Page 61 of The Romantic Agenda

Page List

Font Size:

“I had a talk with Malcolm and we...” Joy trails off. God, this is so hard. How can she be honest with Summer while still protecting herself and her feelings? “We have—we’ve been friends for a really long time. For a lot of that time, we only had each other. No one understood us the way we did. We had a bubble, like you said, and it just kept getting smaller and smaller and tighter and tighter and now, there really isn’t room for anyone else.

“But Malcolm keeps trying to make room. It’s important for him to do that. And I agree. We have a lot to work on that we’ve been ignoring because it’s easier that way, I guess. I just don’t know if I can do that work with someone else in our bubble.” Joy whispers to herself, out loud, “Wow that was a weird metaphor.”

“No, that was really good.” Summer grabs her forearm. Herface is practically exploding with encouragement. “Have you ever tried? I mean, really, really tried to make it work?”

“No offense, but I really, really don’t want to talk to you about that.”

“Oh.” Her face falls. “Okay.”

Summer sits back in her seat, hands in her lap, wistfully looking at the vineyards. The ride is only a couple of minutes longer anyway.

The first thing Malcolm asks is “What happened? Is everything okay?”

Summer’s face is splotchy, and her eyes are bright red. Joy waits for her to answer because anything she says, as a joke or seriously, probably won’t go over well since Summer has clearly been crying and she has not.

“I think I drank too much.” She looks to Joy for confirmation with a watery smile that says:We’ll keep that between us.

“Where’s the other helicopter?” Fox asks.

Joy searches the small blacktop. He’s right. Why is there only one?

“I ordered a car to take Fox and Joy back to the house,” Malcolm says. “Me and Summer will fly back and get my Jeep.”

“Thank you,” Fox says, surprised. “I appreciate it.”

“Sure.” Malcolm clears his throat. “No problem.”

Joy and Summer exchange a look. There might be hope for them yet.

The car arrives a few minutes after Summer and Malcolm take off in their helicopter. When the driver gets out, Fox waves him away and opens the rear door himself for Joy.

“Why, thank you,” she says, sliding into her seat. Fox follows her shortly after. The ride is supposed to take significantly longer than the twenty-minute flight due to traffic and required slower speeds, thanks to some dangerous cliffs.

“I’ll never understand why trails are cutintomountains. Surely there’s a better way. It’s as if someone decided the best thing to do was just pave over the original gold rush trails people used with wagons.”

Fox snickers. He’s facing her, using the headrest as intended. For the most part, he’d made it through lunch without any issue, but alone together in the car he looks tired and overwhelmed again. Joy guesses he put on a show for Summer to convince her he felt fine and stop her from fussing over him, when in reality he’s still reeling from being in the air.

“How are you holding up?” Joy asks. She brushes a lock of hair back from his forehead. He catches her hand in midair, interlocking their fingers.

“Need more comforting,” he says.

“That’s what I’m here for.” She gives his hand a squeeze and situates herself so she’s facing him too, pulling her legs up on the seat and readjusting her seatbelt.

“I can’t stop thinking about what you said earlier.” His voice is a soft rumble of concern. “When you called yourself a selfish monster.”

“Ah no, don’t do that.”

“You don’t strike me as a liar, but you can’t honestly think that’s true.”

“Shows what you know. I lie all the time.”

“Not about that.”

Self-loathing is sneaky. Even on her best days, when Joy is positive she’s a long-lost goddess, there’s no outrunning how awful she can feel about herself.

She shakes her head, then exhales into a sigh. “I don’t like yelling at people, period. Yelling at Malcolm feels like I’mcommitting some unforgivable crime. It’s hard to explain. I guess, part of me feels like I’m not allowed to get mad at him. Because if I do, then I’ll lose him.”

There’s no expression to read on Fox’s face when he says, “That’s, uh, an interesting way of looking at it.”