“It wouldn’t be like that. I care about her.”
“But that’s not what you said to her, is it?”
“She knows I care,” I insisted.
“She doesn’t know you love her.”
I shook my head. “I can’t tell her that.”
“Because . . .”
“Because then I’m just like her mother, okay?” I yelled. “I’d have to say it and walk away, and I can’t do that to her.”
My sister rose to her feet. “You’re missing the point—I’m suggesting that maybe you don’t walk away, Hutton. You tell her you love her and you find a way to stay.” She held up a hand to prevent me from arguing. “You accept that you’re not perfect, you accept that you’ll probably always have that shitty voice in your head, but you accept that you’re still deserving and fucking capable of love. Or you let her go. That’s your choice.”
Infuriated, I stood there glaring at her for a full ten seconds, my jaw clenched, my chest tight, my head pounding. “I said no therapist shit.”
“That wasn’t therapy shit. That was big sister shit.” She pointed to the yard. “Now you go out there and think about what you did.”
While Allie ran errands, I hung out with the kids, took them to the park, made them lunch, and bought them ice cream from the truck Zosia and Jonas chased up the street. All afternoon, my sister’s words ran through my head, but I refused to admit she was right.
I knew myself better than she did. What she was telling me to do was impossible.
“Why are you in such a bad mood?” asked Zosia as we walked home. Her ice cream was dripping all down her hand.
“I’m not.” I glanced behind me to make sure Keely was okay in the wagon I was pulling.
“Yes, you are. You’ve been grumpy all day.”
“I just bought you an ice cream cone, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” she allowed. Then she held it up toward me. “Want a lick?”
“No, thanks.”
“When you get married, will Felicity be my aunt?”
It felt like she’d kicked me in the gut. “I guess so.”
“And when you have kids, will they be my cousins?”
I swallowed hard. “They would.”
“Cool. I want some cousins.” Then out of nowhere, she said, “You’ll be a good dad.”
I stared down at her. “What makes you say that?”
“You like the park, you never care about getting sandy or messy or wet, and you buy us ice cream.”
“That’s all it takes to be a good dad?”
She shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah.”
After Allie got back, she walked out to my car with me. “Good luck in D.C. Call me if you need a pep talk, okay?”
“Okay.”
“What time is your flight?”
“Early. Six.”
She stuck her hands in the back pockets of her shorts. “What will you do about Felicity?”
“I don’t know.” I exhaled. “First I have to get through that fucking hearing. And maybe after a few days apart, I’ll be able to think more clearly.”
She shrugged. “Sometimes distance does add perspective.”
“I wish I could see the future,” I blurted. “To know how it would play out.”
“Me too.” Allie spoke quietly. “But unfortunately, no matter what Mom thinks, there’s no way to know what the future holds. No dream, no crystal ball, no palm reading, or tea leaves or tarot card is going to give you the answer.”
“Yeah.”
She gave me a hug, patting me on the back. “Even though we want the path to be clear and easy, the truth is, sometimes there’s a lot of shit in the way. And the only way out is through.”
NINETEEN
FELICITY
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. “Excuse me?”
“Your engagement. It’s all a lie.” She snapped her fingers twice. “Keep up.”
I forced myself to laugh. “What are you talking about?”
“I will admit you two put on a pretty good show at the reunion, but it never sat right with me—maybe you’d have made a cute couple back in high school, but a guy like Hutton is out of your league now.”
“Well, I’m wearing a ring that says otherwise.” I held my hand out, hoping she wouldn’t see how my fingers trembled.
“Yes, I know all about the ring and the dress and the . . .” She brought her hand up like a blade and spoke on one side of her fingers, like a stage whisper. “Kink.”