He tells me he loves me and misses me, and he sends flowers every Monday morning, wishing me a great week. I sent him a care package last week filled with his favorite snacks, a Stella Adler acting book, a sketch I drew of the Rydeville Elite book covers, a funny “Yoda Best Actor” mug, a towel with “Future Oscar Winner” written on it, and a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies. Mom taught Reeve and me how to bake cookies when we were eight, using a recipe handed down in her family through the generations, but it’s been years since either of us has baked cookies.
I’m feeling nostalgic and a little fragile, and maybe it is my subconscious wanting to remind Reeve of our history.
The cast has been hanging out on set and in their hotel rooms, and they post pics regularly on social media. I know it’s a way of building buzz for the movie, but my stomach lurches every time a new photo is shared when I see Saffron sitting and laughing beside Reeve. She’s always right by his side, and even though there are no obvious signs of anything between them, it still twists my stomach into knots.
Jealousy is not a new emotion for me. For years, girls at school have chased Reeve, but it never bothered me too much, because I knew he had no interest in them and I was secure in his love. It should be the same now, because he has done nothing to elicit these lingering fears in my mind. But I can’t help how I feel. Saffron is beautiful and talented, and she’s experiencing the start of what I know will be a wild ride with Reeve. I can’t help feeling my boring stories of mundane life in L.A. are highlighting all the ways in which Reeve and I are on different paths.
My fingers curl around the diamond-encrusted silver locket hanging around my neck, and I hold it tight, needing to remind myself he loves me. I have to stop being jealous and trust in my man and our love. I pop the locket open, and tears prick my eyes as I stare at the picture of Reeve and me. It’s another photo taken that weekend at Big Bear. Only this time, we’re in bed, hugging and laughing, with our arms wrapped around one another. This was Reeve’s going away gift, and I laughed when I realized how in sync we were with our parting gifts. I haven’t taken the locket off for even a second, and it helps to have some physical proof of his love.
A knock sounds on my door, and I lift my chin as Mom pokes her head into my room. “Good morning, birthday girl,” she coos, smiling as she steps into the room. Dad follows her, holding a ginormous bouquet of flowers.
“Happy birthday, princess.” Dad hands the bouquet to me as I sit up in the bed.
“Thanks, Dad. These are beautiful.” I bury my face in the gorgeous flowers, smiling when I spot a few lavender roses.
“I would like to take the credit, but I think Reeve might have something to say about that.” He chuckles as I rip the card from the small envelope, reading the message from my boyfriend.
Happy 18th birthday, baby. I wish I could be there to smother you with birthday kisses, but I am there in spirit—can you feel my lips worshiping your mouth? Love you always. Miss you, Reeve.
I swipe at the tears that automatically pool in my eyes.
“No tears.” Mom hands me a tissue. “If anyone gets to cry today, it’s me.” She sniffles, and her eyes well up.
“Don’t cry, Mom.” I reach out and envelop her in a hug. “I’ll never stop the waterworks if you start.”
She eases back, clasping my face in her hands. “I can’t believe you are eighteen. It seems like it has happened in the blink of an eye.”
Dad sits on the other side of Mom, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek. “You have given us so much joy, Vivien. You were the miracle we prayed for, and no parent could ask for a better daughter. You are the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful girl with a big compassionate heart, and we are so very proud of you.”
“You forgot intelligent and talented,” Mom says, laughing softly as she brushes tears from her cheeks.
Emotion weaves around my heart, and it feels fit to burst. I know how much Mom and Dad wanted kids and how difficult it was for them to conceive. Then Mom had a succession of miscarriages before getting pregnant with me. They tried for more kids after I was born, but she never got pregnant again. I think, if it wasn’t for Reeve, and the fact he’s like a surrogate son, they would have adopted. Warmth spreads across my chest as I wrap an arm around each of my parents. “If I’m all that, it’s because I had the best role models. Thank you for being the best parents a girl could have.”
“Lord.” Mom waves her hands in front of her beautiful face. “It’s entirely too early for all this emotion.” She laughs again while tucking strands of her lustrous black hair behind her ears. “We thought we would take you to breakfast.”