Page 84 of Fourth Wheel
“Can we switch to FaceTime?” I ask, my voice guttural and filled with emotion I can’t hide.
She initiates the call without responding. As soon as I accept, her gorgeous, freckle-faced smile fills the screen, and something settles inside me.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” she giggles.
“You look gorgeous,” I praise as she scrunches her nose at me. “Although a little sunburned,” I observe.
“I was in the pool most of the day. That’s why—that’s why I didn’t see any of your calls. I’m so sorry I didn’t answer, Dem. I just…”
She trails off, then glances away from the phone, frustration written all over her face.
“Hey,” I reprimand. “You’re here now. And honestly, I wouldn’t have had time to talk earlier anyway.”
“I just feel bad. You’ve been through hell today, and I’ve just been sitting at home, worrying about the stupidest things…”
She trails off again, and this time a telling sniffle comes through the line.
“What’s wrong, baby girl? Talk to me,” I softly pry.
She looks like she’s about to burst into tears, and I get the distinct impression it has nothing to do with my mom. She doesn’t answer, instead drawing in a shaky breath and forcing a smile that I know isn’t real.
“I feel bad I wasn’t there for you today,” she admits, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her Brooklyn sweatshirt. It’s hard to believe we were together in New York just one day ago. It seems like a lifetime has passed since then.
“You’re here now. Seeing your face at the end of the day is all I need to be okay.”
She nods and wipes at her eyes again. I’m frustrated by her reservedness, but I know better than to push when emotions are already so high. I’d do anything to hold her right now.
“What can I do for you? How can I make this easier?” she asks.
Now it’s my turn to smile sadly. What I want and what I need are on two opposite ends of the spectrum. I blow out a long breath before steeling the courage to reply.
“I would give anything to hold you right now, princess, but I think it’s best if I lie low and stick around at home with Fielding until the calling hours and funeral.”
“Okay, I understand,” she whispers. “Can I still call you?”
The uncertainty in her voice has me grinding my molars. I don’t want to stay away from her—especially knowing that we’re running up against the clock and she’ll be leaving for California by the end of the month—but I don’t have the luxury of getting what I want right now.
“You can and you will. We’re going to talk every single night, Maddie. I want you to text me all day long, every damn day. I hate that we can’t be together right now… but I need to be here for Fielding until we get through this. Calling hours will be next Tuesday, then the funeral is Wednesday. Just let me get him through the next ten days.”
“Do what you have to do to get through this. But promise me you’ll tell me if there’s anything I can do to help,” she asserts.
“Talking to you every day and knowing you’ll be back in my arms when this is over is all I need. Just hang tight and be patient… I promise I’ll make this up to you.”
We hang up a few minutes later, but my mind is no less settled after our call. Part of me feels like this won’t be enough. That I’ve grown dependent on her presence. That I need to see her and feel her beside me to be okay.
But then I think of him, and the trepidation settles. I have an obligation to my mom’s memory; I have a responsibility to Fielding’s stability.
We can get through this. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure my brother is okay and that we both make it through the next ten days.
Even if I hate the thought of wasting one single minute of the rest of the summer without Maddie by my side.
We made it to the weekend.
The days ticked by dreadfully slow, my daily to do lists and the need to keep Fielding on the straight and narrow the only things keeping me going. I slog through every day, taking care of everything I can think of. Then at night, I let myself unwind when I talk to her.
We exchange texts throughout the day, but it’s the nightly calls that keep me going. Even if they start as regular phone calls, they always end up being FaceTimes. There’s just something about seeing her smile that soothes me.
