Page 63 of Sustain

Ever attuned to my rhythms, Chelsie pauses after our ritual well-wishing. "Everything okay, hon? You sound off."

I smile despite myself. Is there anything that gets past her? I take a larger gulp of merlot before answering carefully. "Just thinking through some heavy realizations about relationships. And what I actually want mine to look like in this new year and beyond."

"Realizations about a certain British manager we know and maybe love?" she coaxes gently.

My breath leaves in a rush. So much for careful vagaries. "He has kids, Chels. Two adorable little daughters he conveniently forgot to mention until I accidentally met them this afternoon."

Her soft gasp echoes my own swirling shock and betrayal. As colorful explosions continue to paint the skyline with light, I unravel it all to her.

When I finish, Chelsie lets silence land comfortably between us for a time. Finally, softly, she says, "The Mackenzie Roberts I know doesn't run when shit gets real."

She’s not wrong there. I don’t. But I also don’t stand for bullshit either. I’m still wading through what this actually is, and how I feel about it.

When we hang up, my phone lights up again instantly with an incoming video call from Logan and Skyler. I paste on a smile before answering.

"Happy New Year, Mr. and Mrs. Edwards!" I cheer, as their glowing faces fill my screen, party hats tilted jauntily. I'm able to mostly listen, interjecting occasional "Wows" over their epic New Year's party story, before getting passed off to Remy and his fiancée Monroe.

More enthusiastic New Year's tidings and tales ensue with each band member's trade-off. Ioohandaahin the right places, tamping down my envy at their thrilled drunken faces. My mind can't help but wander to Ian celebrating with his sweet girls.

Does he feel as lonely as I do right now?

"Earth to Mackenzie..." Jake's smooth voice jars me from my internal grumblings. "You get to flyin' solo tonight or what?"

I smooth my features quickly, reverting to my earlier white lie. "Oh, no. I’ve just been fighting some nasty flu bug all day. Finally on the mend though. No worries."

We exchange more well wishes before I'm able to beg off for more rest. As I set down my dark phone, the bright fireworks still blooming in the distance seem to mock my descent into depression.

Happy New Year to me.

forty-six

. . .

Yesterday

Ian

"Ten...nine...eight..."

The TV's New Year's countdown echoes faintly as Hayley and June fight against heavy eyelids. We're camped on the reassembled couch buried under blankets. My little nuggets are determined to fist-bump the new year despite the knockout punches of our combined jet lag.

I sweep Hayley's messy curls off her face as she yawns big enough to catch flies. My throat clutches and a familiar face invades my thoughts, crowding out the sparkly ball poised to drop onscreen. Is Mackenzie also nursing a drink somewhere, with only my bullshit betrayal to toast to come midnight?

"...seven...six..."

June's small hand slips into mine, tugging me back. Despite all of my wheel-spinning regrets, last year isn’t changing. Its hangovers are nearly passed out here beside me.

Maybe someday I'll be forgiven. But midnight doesn’t bring a magic time machine with it. It’s just us three musketeers welcoming the mystery of whatever the new year wants to throw down.

Forward we go, ready or not.

The girls mumble sleepy, "...three...two...one...Happy New Year!" We share soft pecks on the cheek in our pint-sized wolfpack.

It’ll do.

A mid-morning rapon the doorframe makes me glance up from my laptop balancing precariously on the arm of the sofa. My neighbor Marisha smiles kindly, her own girls already squeezing past her to clamber inside.

"I come bearing reinforcements as requested."

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