Page 24

Twenty-Four

I found myself alone -alone again the next weekend.

Despite their running joke that they wanted to spend their thirtieth anniversary in Paris, my parents had decided to fly to wine country in California for a long weekend in October.

“No parties,” they warned me before leaving for the airport Thursday morning, to which I responded, “But Connor already ordered the kegs!”

Austin usually stayed with me while Dad and Da were out of town, but he too had plans.

Samira had invited him to Baltimore so they could talk in person.

“I told Katie,” he said when he called from the road.

“I told Katie everything.”

I’d winced.

“How many mugs did she throw at you?”

After all, there were plenty to spare from their cabinet.

“None,” Austin said.

“She was actually calm about the whole thing, like she’d been expecting it.” He sighed.

“She was honest and said that she doesn’t fully trust Samira, but she trusts me implicitly and understands why I want to try to work out our relationship.”

Hmm , I thought.

Either he’s downplaying things or that was very anticlimactic…

I wondered if Samira would be able to fall out of love with my brother, and instead just love him the way he loved her.

Connor and his family were also out of town, celebrating his grandfather’s birthday, so I ordered Chinese takeout for dinner.

It was date night for Natalie and Davis, and I wasn’t in the mood to go to the huge party one of my teammates was throwing.

We were headed to the state playoffs, and apparently the perfect way to prepare was a ton of alcohol paired with her heated pool.

Someone is going to hurt themselves , I worried.

Someone is going to show up to practice on Monday with crutches.

Which was all to say that my only human interaction that evening was a Zoom with the bridesmaids.

Katie had not been included, since the main item on the agenda was rehearsal dinner speeches, but my recent breakup ended up taking top priority.

“You were only together three weeks,” Yasmin said.

“Are you sure that was enough time?”

“Yaz, she couldn’t even kiss him,” Meredith said.

“I’m pretty sure it was enough time.”

“Says the person who fell in love with her husband in one week ,” Amanda deadpanned.

“I still think you should’ve kissed him,” Paige told me.

“Just to make one hundred percent sure you weren’t attracted to him.”

Meredith shook her head.

“You should never feel pressure to kiss anyone.”

“Listen, a kiss wasn’t going to change anything,” I said.

“I’m not attracted to Connor, he’s not attracted to me, and we never will be. I know what it feels like to be attracted to someone!”

Onscreen, the bridesmaids all gave me inquisitive looks.

“Who have you been attracted to, Mads?” Reese asked sweetly.

Marco … my heart singsonged.

Marco, Marco, and…oh, did I mention Marco?

We now texted every couple days, keeping things light and casual.

And by light and casual , I meant that I composed an unprompted, lengthy text about why Connor and I didn’t fit into a romance novel, yet I still didn’t know why Marco had broken up with Shelly.

Maybe he hoped I would forget about it.

Neither of us ever mentioned hanging out together.

The lack of communication between us was more than eye-roll-inducing, but I didn’t want to risk losing him by trying to communicate better.

“It doesn’t matter,” I grumbled, then focused on Amanda.

“Now I vaguely remember you mentioning something about rehearsal dinner speeches?”

The Zoom ended around 10:30—a lot had been brainstormed from scratch—so I yawned as I shucked on a coat and whistled for Arthur and Francine.

They needed to go out one last time before I locked the doors and closed up shop for the night.

I followed the Newfoundlands out into the chilly air.

It wasn’t cold enough to see my breath, but we were getting there.

The sky was overcast, no moon or stars in sight, so it grew dark as I wandered away from the house and into the back field.

The dogs were almost invisible; I could only see their silhouettes darting between pine trees and hear their barking or heavy breathing.

Creepy , I thought, but before I could switch on my phone flashlight, the iPhone started chiming with a call.

Bridesmaid Meredith , the screen read.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hey,” Meredith said.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

“Nope,” I told her.

“My dogs and I are just conducting a late-night perimeter check of the property. We’re heading toward the barn.”

Meredith laughed.

“The Cheval Collective’s headquarters?”

“Nah, the back barn,” I said.

“It’s where we keep everything for tree season.”

It also needed to be renovated within the next couple of years.

My parents wanted to pour a concrete floor so that groundhogs would stop burrowing through the dirt one.

“Right,” Meredith said.

“Pearl’s Christmas Trees.”

“My grandmother started it,” I explained.

“And unapologetically christened it after herself.” I sighed.

“She died when I was ten, but lived with us ever since Austin was little. Christmastime was her favorite season.”

I could hear the smile in Meredith’s voice.

“That’s exactly how Austin tells it. I think she and my grandmother would have been fast friends…” She trailed off.

“Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Okay, I meant what I said,” I told her.

“I don’t need a date for the wedding. My family’s going to be there, Connor’s going to be there, other Gallant-approved friends are going to be there; it’s not like I’m going to feel left out or embarrassed.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Meredith said.

Our earlier Zoom had shockingly circled back to my lack of a wedding date.

“Really glad, Mads. I was once in your shoes, and while my mental health wasn’t in a great place, you’d think it was the end of the world that I didn’t have a plus-one to my cousin’s wedding.”

“But that’s when you met Wit, right? Katie said you guys met at a wedding.”

“Yes, and that’s who I want to talk to you about,” she said.

“Wit?”

“No, Katie.”

Okay , I thought, kicking the ground with my boot.

If we must.

“I know there was a spectrum of stories told while discussing speeches tonight,” Meredith said.

“Some teasing was more innocent than others, so I need you to know that Katie is one of the most special people you will ever meet. I feel so lucky to call her my best friend, and you are even luckier that she’s about to be your sister-in-law.”

Unable to think of a response, I used Francine’s barking as an excuse to keep my mouth shut.

“What do you love about her so much?” I asked once she quieted.

“Well, I don’t want to spoil my speech,” she answered coyly.

“But one thing I really love and admire is how fiercely protective she is of the people she cares about.”

Fiercely protective?

My eyebrows knitted together as I randomly twirled around the left side of the barn.

That sounded like Austin, not Katie.

“Yes,” Meredith said.

“You probably know that my older sister died in a drunk driving accident? Maybe Austin told you?”

I winced.

“I’m so sorry—so, so sorry.”

“Thank you,” Meredith said, and it went quiet for a moment.

“I told Katie about Claire our first week in college, and she has been overwhelmingly caring and considerate of it ever since. She suggested we have a ‘sober soldier’ whenever our friends went out, and orchestrated games like rock paper scissors to randomly draft one. We also had the buddy system at bigger parties—and she always, always wrote her phone number on our arms in case of an emergency.” She paused.

“My parents were local, so my mom and I attended MADD weekly meetings—Mothers Against Drunk Driving—and when I studied abroad my junior year, Katie went to them with my mom. She wasn’t trying to be me or my sister; she was just being herself and thought my mom could use the company. She is so supportive of her friends and everything important in their lives. She keeps us safe and makes us better.”

“Oh, wow…” I took a step backward, sort of stunned.

“Meredith, wow, I— shit !”

Pain sliced through my ankle, and I swear I heard a snap .

“What?!” Meredith sounded alarmed.

“What is it? What happened?”

“No, nothing,” I said, pinpricks at my eyes.

“I accidentally stepped in a groundhog hole. They’re burrowing around the barn.”

“Yikes.” She sucked in a breath.

“You’re okay, though?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I crouched down and looked longingly toward my warm house.

“I’ll ice it before bed. I probably rolled it.” I let out a long breath.

“I never knew any of that about Katie.”

“You wouldn’t,” Meredith said.

“She’s stealthy.”

I laughed, but god—it somehow made my ankle scream.

“I should go,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Arthur and Francine have gotten into something…”

“Ahhh, I’ve been there so many times with our Jack Russell,” she said.

“Have a good night, Mads.”

“Good night, Meredith,” I said, and after hanging up, I whistled for the dogs and hopped home.

***

I woke up in the middle of the night feeling like I’d spent the last week baking in the sun with no water.

My mouth as dry as tortilla chips without salsa, I pushed back my covers and got out of bed…

only to collapse when I tried to stand.

Burning pain seared all the way up my leg, and I yelped the second I hit the wood floor.

The old pine groaned under the sudden drop of weight.

My phone was plugged in on my nightstand, so I stretched to grab it.

Please , I thought, fumbling to turn on its flashlight.

Please let it be okay…

It was not okay. The ice pack I’d strapped to my ankle before bed had slipped off while I’d been sleeping, and now the flashlight’s beam showed me the most grotesque thing I’d ever seen.

My ankle was so majorly swollen, at least twice its normal size, and bruised red and purple.

The snap I’d heard earlier hadn’t been my imagination; I’d broken something.

Whatever bone or bones that made sure my foot faced forward.

Now, it was crooked, my foot awkwardly pointing to the right.

I vomited. Kung pao chicken, brown rice, and the various sweet treats I’d snacked on after dinner spewed across my bedroom floor.

Then, at the sight of the vomit, I puked up whatever was left in my stomach.

Slowly but surely, I hefted myself back into bed.

My lock screen said it was 4:37, and I broke out in tears.

I was completely and utterly alone in my house with no one to help me.

All of my emergency contacts were unavailable.

My parents were in California, and the McCallisters also were out of town.

Austin was in Maryland, and I knew Nana silenced her phone at night.

She wouldn’t hear her ringtone if I called.

One other option came to mind, an option I never would’ve considered this time last year.

I tried to pull myself together as the phone rang.

But I caved as soon as I heard her voice.

“Mmm, hello?” Katie said groggily.

“Mads?”

“Katie, I’m sorry it’s so late,” I said, sobbing.

“But I need your help.”

Her voice changed, like a switch had been flipped.

“Where are you? What happened?”

“I’m home alone,” I told her.

“I think I broke my ankle. I was outside with the dogs tonight, and I tripped on a groundhog hole…” I squeezed my eyes shut, more tears threatening to spill.

“I iced it, but now it’s so swollen and it really hurts… I can’t walk, Katie.”

“Okay,” Katie said calmly, and I heard some rustling in the background.

“Okay, breathe—just breathe.”

I did—or tried to, at least. My exhalations came out as wails.

“I’m in Princeton,” Katie said.

“I need to wake my dad, because I won’t be able to carry you down the stairs, but we’re coming, alright?”

I nodded even though she couldn’t see.

“Elevate your ankle with a pillow and put your ice pack back on,” she said.

“I know it’s no longer cold, but do it anyway. We’ll be there soon.”

Everything was a blur once Katie and Mr. Gallant got to my house.

Katie charged into my room, blond hair in a messy topknot and wearing ancient Ugg boots.

Her dad and the dogs were at her heels.

A huge lump formed in my throat.

“Hey, hey, hey,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

Mr. Gallant carefully lifted me into his arms, and then suddenly I was in the back seat of their car with a sneaker on my left foot and nothing on my right.

Katie sat next to me and let me squeeze her hand.

Every pothole in the road to the hospital nearly made me faint until finally Mr. Gallant was carrying me into the emergency room.

A nurse helped me into a wheelchair, but we were basically told to take a number and wait.

“Can we at least get a bag of ice?” I heard Katie snap, my eyes drifting shut.

I woke up in a hospital bed, my ankle wrapped and raised.

Katie had pulled her chair right up to my bedside and was slumped over, face down against the starchy white sheets.

Instead of saying anything, I playfully batted her bun a few times like a cat.

“Hi,” she said, sitting up and yawning.

“How do you feel?”

“Did you call Austin?” I croaked.

She nodded. “He’s on his way, and I called your parents. They’re trying to get on the earliest flight back home, but Lee is on the phone with the doctor now.”

Classic , I thought.

As a retired surgeon, Da had always been a little bit of a helicopter parent whenever his children needed medical attention.

“Your nana is in the bathroom,” Katie continued.

“My dad went home, but he’ll be back with breakfast. My mom is cooking as we speak.”

“Do you know how bad it is?” I whispered.

Katie shook her head.

“They wouldn’t tell me particulars since I’m not family.” She raised her hand to show off her bling.

“This didn’t do the trick.”

“That’s bullshit,” was the only comeback I could think of.

Katie’s lips lifted in a small smile, and about forty-five minutes later, I was wheeled out of my room for X-rays.

I tried to meditate during them so I wouldn’t start crying.

“Yikes,” I’d heard a nurse mutter while unwrapping my bandage.

My heart beat to the rhythm of: This is not good, not good, so not good…

Hurt ankles and field hockey did not play well together.

In fact, they didn’t play at all .

My eyes welled up. What if this was more serious than missing a few practices?

Mr. and Mrs. Gallant had arrived with cranberry-orange scones for everyone by the time I was brought back to my room.

Austin was there, too.

I didn’t ask how fast he’d driven, worried his answer would involve the phrase outraced a state trooper .

“Hi there, sis,” he said after everyone had cleared out of the room.

“I’m sorry I’m late, but I had three state troopers on my tail, and it took a detour to lose them.”

I couldn’t laugh; it would hurt to laugh.

My brother squeezed my shoulder.

“Don’t worry. Everything is going to be okay.”

“What if I can’t play?” I whispered.

“Austin, what if this is the end?”

“Mads, I’m an almost dentist. Not an orthopedist.” He waited for me to smile, but I didn’t.

“But even so, I’m fairly confident you won’t be scoring the game-winning goal in the state championship. This…” He sighed.

“I don’t think this is a twisted ankle.”

Tears slipped down my face.

No , I thought. What if this is the end end?

What if Penn field hockey is now a pipe dream?

An actual orthopedic surgeon walked into the room.

X-ray films were tucked under his arm, and he held an iPad with my dads on FaceTime.

Whatever strings Da had here, he’d pulled them.

“Good morning, Madeline,” the surgeon said.

“I’m Dr. Lambert.” He turned to Austin.

“Good morning, Dr. Fisher-Michaels.”

Dad’s voice was tinny from the iPad, but I heard him loud and clear.

“That’s my kid!”

Austin’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment while I smiled.

Even though he technically had seven more months until graduation, he did treat patients at school.

Our family was beyond proud of him.

“What’s it looking like, Noel?” Da asked.

“Well…” Dr. Lambert put my X-rays up on the board and flicked on its light.

“Not great.”

I knew I was supposed to pay attention to what he was pointing out on the screen, but my stomach was churning so badly that I needed to close my eyes.

Austin would look; I would listen.

Not only had I seriously sprained my ankle, but I’d also fractured a bone.

When Dr. Lambert got around to mentioning torn ligaments and a severed tendon, I retched.

“Here!” Katie exclaimed, and I opened my eyes right as she handed off a bedpan to Austin, who caught my puke just in time.

“But can I play field hockey?” I asked after wiping my face.

“Will I still be able to play?”

“Madeline, you really mashed up your ankle,” was Dr. Lambert’s delicate response.

Fuck, why doesn’t anyone get it?

I thought. Why doesn’t anyone understand what I’m asking?

!

“She doesn’t mean now ,” Katie said as she squeezed my shoulder.

“She means by next year. She committed to the University of Pennsylvania back in the spring.”

“That depends on her recovery,” Dr. Lambert said.

“Now let’s discuss surgery. I’d like it to happen as soon as possible, but we need to wait a few hours for an OR to open up…”

***

Da and Dad were at my bedside postsurgery.

“It went well,” Da assured me as Dad leaned down to kiss my forehead.

“Dr. Lambert said no complications whatsoever.”

“You have some impressive hardware,” Dad said, trying to sound upbeat.

“A titanium plate, a handful of screws, and an anchor for the tendon.”

“Yes, it’s a shame no one will ever see,” I deadpanned.

“Fear not,” Da said.

“I’ve insisted on a copy of the X-ray.”

Dad winked.

“We can bring it out at parties.”

I smiled weakly.

“When can we go home?”

“Soon,” Da told me.

“They want you to rest a little longer, and then you’ll be discharged.”

I nodded, exhausted.

“We’re so sorry we weren’t home,” Da said, running a hand through my hair.

“And we shouldn’t have left you alone, especially with Austin and the McCallisters also gone.”

“Probably not,” I said.

“I’m clearly ill-equipped.” My eyes welled up.

“But Katie came.”

“Yes,” they said.

“Katie came.”

***

I wasn’t the most delightful patient.

For the first two weeks after surgery, I wore a splint that was so tightly wrapped it felt like there was no blood circulating below my knee.

After many a complaint, Da unwrapped and rewrapped the bandage to make me more comfortable, and I started sleeping on the family room couch so I wouldn’t need to be carried upstairs every night.

Arthur, who loved the couch, looked absolutely affronted when he realized there was no space for him.

He settled for his monogrammed dog bed in the corner.

School did not happen the first week.

I stayed home and binged One Day on Netflix, which depressed me.

The original Sex and the City series boosted my spirits, but calling my field hockey coaches made me miserable.

“Here’s my dad,” I said like a little kid, handing the phone to Da when their questions got super specific.

I received so many texts and FaceTimed with teammates.

Connor brought my homework every day.

He unpacked his backpack, and we worked together until dinnertime.

Natalie and Davis visited.

She painted my nails while Davis played some hidden gems he’d discovered on Spotify.

Meredith and Wit sent me a box of sympathy fudge a couple days after the bridesmaid chat blew up from the news.

OMFG , Amanda wrote one day, like she’d just had an epiphany.

Will you be in a boot for the wedding?

! Or still on crutches?

!

I skimmed it in silence, but then openly performed my best imitation of Amanda.

No one would hear me; today was unseasonably warm and sunny, so Da had moved my camp into the Garden.

“Respond that you’ll be in boot, but you’ll need a scooter to go down the aisle,” someone said, his smooth voice a stranger for so long.

“You won’t be able to put any weight on it yet.”

A ripple rolled up my spine, I looked up from my phone to see Marco at the garden gate.

Tousled brown hair, burgundy sweater, navy pants, and Chelsea boots.

His eyes gleamed behind his glasses.

Here he was, finally, in the flesh.

“What are you doing here?” I choked out.

“My afternoon classes were canceled today,” he replied, settling on the edge of the koi fishpond.

“Or, in other words, I had a scheduling conflict and could not attend them.”

He skipped , I thought, pulse quickening.

He skipped class to see me.

“My mother has requested I be home for dinner,” Marco said as I resisted the urge to touch him.

He was so close, close enough for me to reach out and rest my hand on his knee.

“But I’m yours until then. We can do whatever you’d like.”

“Twenty questions?” I asked.

“Can we play twenty questions?”

He smiled.

“Sure.”

“Great,” I said, fire flaring in my heart.

“My version, though.”

“What’s your version?”

I went in for the kill.

“There are only three questions, not twenty, and I will be the one asking them.”

“Ah.” Marco rubbed the back of his neck.

“I walked into that, didn’t I?”

I tried to keep my composure.

“Sometimes I feel like we’re so close,” I said.

“Last-thought-at-night, first-thought-in-the-morning close .” I thought about everything he’d shared, from how happy he was to shed his high school hoodies and prom king persona when he got to Princeton, to his dream of writing a book, to inviting me to Stone Harbor.

“But then suddenly you’re drifting away, like you’ve changed your mind—you’d rather be nothing more than a guy I used to know.” I swallowed.

“You can’t have it both ways, Marco. It’s not fair.”

Marco was silent for a moment, then caught my eyes and held them.

I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, right about to fall.

“What’s the first question?”

I cleared my throat.

“Why did you break up with Shelly again?”

“Because she’s toxic,” he said.

“She’s arrogant, narcissistic, and manipulative.” He paused.

“She also stole my laptop to email herself my manuscript.” He made a face as my eyes widened.

“Apparently, she wanted to see if it was any good.”

I wished I could sew my mouth shut.

Marco smirked. “If you ask what it’s about, it counts as a question.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Maybe someday.” He winked, then prompted, “Next question?”

“Why did you get back together with Shelly when…?” I trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid.

Why did you get back together with Shelly when you were thinking about me?

“Because I’m only twenty, Mads.” He sighed.

“I’m a dickhead who doesn’t know anything.”

“No,” I said.

“That’s not a good enough answer.”

“What would make it better?”

“The truth. Tell me the truth.”

Silence.

Silence for one, two, three, four, five minutes.

His voice actually made my heart leap a little in surprise when he spoke.

“I suspected something was going to happen between you and Connor, and I was jealous— really jealous—because I could tell how badly you wanted it to happen. Shelly begged to get back together in Stone Harbor, so I said yes.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “You couldn’t have turned her down?”

Marco shook his head, at a loss for words.

He raised his hands in surrender.

“I was…” He trailed off in thought.

“I was scared of how hard I was falling for you, Mads. I have always been drawn to you—ever since high school—but it felt like treading water in the ocean this year.” He took a deep breath.

“And just when I found out you felt something too, you and Connor decided to give things a shot—which I feel like you guys needed to do. Shelly was there, and I knew where I stood with her.” He grimaced.

“What I did was terrible. Playing cat and mouse with you was wrong, and I’m sorry. You overwhelm me. You overwhelm me in the most amazing way, but I wasn’t ready to embrace that—it would’ve been dangerous to embrace that, because I was keeping an eye on you for Katie.”

“Why?” I said over my pounding pulse.

“Why did you agree to spy?”

Marco mimed zipping his lips.

“It’s my third question,” I said.

“Answer, please.”

“Because she knew you weren’t comfortable with Ready-Set-Date. She knew you were game, and that it would be good for you in a sense, but she knew you weren’t fully comfortable.”

She is so supportive of her friends and everything important in their lives , I remembered Meredith saying.

She keeps us safe and makes us better.

“She called me that night you were at Princeton,” Marco said gently.

“It wasn’t a coincidence that we ran into each other at Wawa. After you told Austin you were all alone, she called me and told me to get my ass over there to make sure you were okay. She didn’t want anything or anyone to hurt you.”

My heart ached.

Oh, Katie— freaking Katie.

“Holy crap,” I murmured.

“She cares. She did it because she cares about me.”

“Yeah.” Marco nodded.

“She cares a hell of a lot, Mads.”

We slipped into silence again.

I noticed that during this intimate interrogation, Marco had migrated across the brick patio, and was now kneeling by the couch.

“May I ask one more question?”

“No,” Marco replied.

“You said only three questions, and you’ve asked three questions.”

“Marco…”

Marco moved to rest his elbows on the edge of the couch cushion.

“Sorry, but you made the rules.”

“Which means I can amend them!” I said.

“One bonus question, okay?”

He agreed.

“Do you miss me?” I asked.

“Every second,” he answered, then asked his own question.

“Do you forgive me?”

I put a finger to my mouth, to dramatically contemplate.

Did I forgive him?

Marco leaned in close, nose brushing mine.

Golden cords tightened around my heart.

“I love you, Mads,” he whispered.

“For whatever it’s worth.”

“It’s worth quite a lot,” I whispered back.

“Because I love you too, Marco.”

Then, heart hammering, I pressed my lips to his.

Marco’s response was instant, both hands coming up to cup my face before he teasingly tugged my braid.

Some type of spellbinding magic shot through my veins when he gently tilted my head to deepen our kiss.

My body hummed, and he laughed after I moved to tangle my fingers in his soft sweater and pulled him closer.

The sound reverberated against my chest.

This is it , I thought, heart about to burst. This is a kiss .

One that left me wonderstruck.

Marco left me wonderstruck.