Page 49

Vivienne

"How do you feel about omelets?" Xavier asks from the fridge.

"That depends, are you going to fold the veggies in or plop them on top?"

"Is this a trick question?"

I shrug, taking a seat at the island with Holland.

"Putting them on top isn't the right answer, is it?"

I sigh dramatically, looking down at the baby in my arms. "I think we found his flaw. And things were going so well."

He cracks the eggs, glancing over his shoulder. He looks so good like this--so comfortable and at home. It makes my heart skip a beat.

He clears his throat before he asks, "Are they going well?"

Nerves send my heart plummeting into my stomach. "What do you mean?"

"With us? Last night it felt like you weren't all there with me. Is it just going home that's bothering you. Or have I pushed for more than you can give me?"

"No, you haven't pushed. I want this. I meant that when I said it last night."

"That's good because this is so much more than our list. That this is as real as it gets for me."

How can words I'm so desperate to hear be so scary? I shift Holland in my arms so she's resting against my chest, somehow having her closer eases some of those fears just a touch.

"This trip home has me in my head. Last night I wanted to forget about what was coming at me once I get to California. That wasn't fair to you and I'm sorry if that made you doubt this, because I'm right there with you."

He lets out a deep exhale and turns back to the stove and adds the cut veggies to the hot oil.

"Is there anything I can do to make your trip home easier?"

"Let me keep holding Holland until it's time to leave. She reminds me a lot of Tenley as a baby, she was always happy too."

"Do you always get stressed like this when you go home?"

He whips the eggs, his muscles putting on a show with each turn of the whisk.

"Vi." He tilts his head grinning. "I asked you a question."

"You did?" I laugh nervously, dragging my eyes back up to his face.

"Do you always get stressed like this when you go home?"

"It's never my favorite, but this year is different. I've been holding on to things that I need to air and I'm nervous about how it's going to go over. My family suffered when Erica died and I don't want to dredge that up, but I'm realizing how much losing her and the fallout from it hurt me. It's held me back in ways I couldn't see until now."

He sets the bowl of eggs on the counter, moving to stand beside me. He bends, kissing the corner of my mouth and pulling back so that there's nothing but a sea of blue looking back at me. "You deserve closure, you deserve to be heard, you deserve all of it."

I almost break into a million pieces right there on his kitchen floor. If it weren't for his arms wrapping around me at that exact moment I might have.

"How are you doing with the hearing coming up?" I ask when he goes back to the stove. Guilt has plagued me that I'm leaving when he's facing this draining ordeal with Kristy.

He shrugs. "We deserve closure too and this brings us one step closer. I hate that it has to be this way."

"Yeah, me too." And I'm not only talking about his custody trial. I hate knowing that what I have to tell my family has the power to hurt them. "You'll call me and let me know how it goes?"

"I will. And when you get home we can talk about those rules. Because I meant what I said about this being real."

I scan the baggage claim, searching for something outrageous-- a giant inflatable dinosaur costume maybe, or some other off-the-wall embarrassment. With Harlowe, it's never a regular airport pickup.

Then, I spot her.

Even being a brat, with her sunglasses sliding down her nose revealing those bright blue eyes, she manages to look like a goddess. Her long blonde hair is woven into a braid draped over her shoulder, disappearing behind a sign that reads: Ginger Daddy Detox Program .

People make all kinds of assumptions when they see my best friend. She looks like a model--perfectly put together, sweet, and approachable. Until she opens her mouth. That's when her dark sense of humor knocks you on your ass.

Today, she's rocking a baseball cap, a short unitard, a sweater tied around her waist, and a pair of pristine white sneakers. She looks like she stepped out of an ad for an athleisure brand. Only she can out-climb, out-run, and out-lift anyone in the room.

When she spots me walking towards her, the sign drops to her side and her other arm opens, beckoning me in for a hug.

"You're still short," she says, throwing her arm around my shoulder and hugging me.

"You're still tall." I hug her right back, a little tighter than I know she'd like because if we have one thing in common, it's our aversion to intimacy.

"It's a damn good thing opposites attract." She laughs, turning us towards the exit and leading us outside.

"The sign's less dramatic than I expected." I take it from her, holding it up to examine it.

"Yeah, well, you seemed like you had plenty brewing without me shoving you over the edge," she quips, her tone light but laced with knowing.

"Shopping first and then we can delve into all my issues."

Harlowe leads us through the parking ramp to her rebuilt International Scout.

"I can't believe you drove your baby into the city for me. Does your dad know?"

She snorts, her smile bright. "Of course he does. I was going to rent a car for the trip and he told me if I didn't have faith in all the work we put into the old girl to take him out to pasture now." The sparkle dulls a little at the last few words.

I hook her pinky in mine and squeeze. The last few years have not been kind to Harlowe and I'm not talking about the superficial wound of heartbreak--that was the least of the damage her ex, Canyon, left in his wake. He destroyed Harlowe's entire world in the blink of an eye and walked away unscathed.

Good fucking riddance.

The tailgate swings out to the side, the dusty blue paint gleaming like it's brand new instead of a restored, off-road truck.

"Sounds like James." I slide my bag into the open back and step aside as Harlowe shuts the door, leaning against it. I take the spot next to her. "How's your dad doing?" I ask.

She shrugs. "Some days are better than others. Mostly for me. He's adapting better than I would have, but there's still a lot of pain after PT. Every time I catch those grimaces that he tries to hide, I want to track down Canyon and--"

I take her hand in mine, squeezing it gently to ground her.

Her dark laughter echoes off the concrete pillars. "I don't even know what I'd do--what I'd say if I saw him again. I'd like to think I have something truly devious and scathing to throw at him, but I'd probably punch him and end up with an assault charge. Wouldn't be so bad if I knew it wouldn't disappoint my dad."

"Let's hope he stays the hell away from Timberline Peak for good, and you never have to find out," I say, voice firm.

"His parents are still in Wyoming. I'm bound to run into him at some point. Hazards of a small town."

And I hate that for my friend almost as much as I hate him.

"Enough about him; he's not worth it. You're going to let me style you and I can't wait any longer. Get your sweet ass into Phantom. Let me know if you need a boost."

I roll my eyes dramatically. "It was one time, and I was wine drunk."

She laughs, sounding less burdened. I push off the tailgate and round the passenger side. As smoothly as I'm able to, I make the giant step up into her car.

"Look at you." she says, her voice teasing. "I could hardly see the panic on your face."

"I hate you."

"Nah, it's all love, babe."

We make the drive out of the city, heading inland, and stop in one of our favorite towns about thirty minutes from home. It's not as boujee as Napa, but still has an eclectic mix of boutiques and restaurants.

The inland heat is about ten degrees warmer, a noticeable shift from the cool coastal breeze of the Bay Area. I shrug off my jean jacket and let the heat from the sun warm me as we grab an open table in a quiet corner of Gott's.

Harlowe tilts her head, scanning my face with a mix of curiosity and warmth. "You look happy. It's in your eyes--they're softer. Your shoulders too. Like you finally put down some of the weight you've been carrying."

I tip my wine to my lips, stalling, hoping she won't press. But her gaze stays steady, patient, and far too knowing.

"It's him, isn't it?" A sly smile creeps across her face. "And it's not the sex. You really like him."

I hang my head, hiding my silly grin. I guess we're just diving right in.

"He's . . . everything ." It sounds cliché, but I can't think of another way to explain it. Xavier makes everything in my past fade away, like he's the missing piece I didn't know I was searching for. "Being around him is disorienting. All the things I thought I wanted suddenly don't matter. He makes me forget, and all I see is him."

"What exactly does he make you forget?" my friend presses, and I stumble for an answer, fear clouding my mind.

"Uh . . . I guess, what I thought I needed and wanted to be happy. I thought I had enough with my job and focusing on myself. But he makes me want more and it's scary."

She raises an eyebrow. "Are you afraid it's going to be like before--that you're going to lose yourself?"

"No. It's the opposite. He takes care of me like no one else ever has. But the idea that I've already fallen hard when we agreed not to catch feelings is a bit nerve racking. I've been on my own for so long. What if I'm not good at really being with someone."

She tilts her head, lips quirked. "Seems like a real problem you've got there, Vi."

"Not helping."

"Are you sure this is about him? Or is it about"--she gestures around us--"being back here? All the stuff with your family you've been carrying for years?"

Good god. The questions throw me off. It's all jumbled up together which is why I wanted to come home and fix this first--sort through the two separately.

"Look. I've never met the man, but I know two things: he's brilliant at giving you orgasms, and he makes you happy. That seems like something you should grab onto with both hands."

I let another sip of wine ease some of my nerves over being home. It's the first time I've been here without Tenley. It's the first time I've been here with this much certainty over who I am and what I want.

"I think I needed this trip home. As much as it's got me rattled, it's a full circle moment. Like maybe it's time to put the past with my family behind me. Start fresh with them. Take back the power this place and my past holds over me."

"Forgive them," she suggests, her voice soft but firm.

I can't help the way my lips pull into a frown. "I don't think they even know they need to be forgiven."

She leans back, arms crossed, like she's about to launch into one of her no-nonsense speeches. "Talk to them first and when you get home, talk to Xavier. You don't let a man like him go."

I stare at my best friend, dumbfounded. "You don't even know him."

"But I know you." Her gaze sharpens. "And you're happy, Vi, that's a good thing."

"It's a start," I say, downing my beer. If Xavier's taught me anything it's that good isn't good enough. I want it all. "Now, let's go shopping"

And that's exactly what we do: shop all afternoon, slipping into laughter and leaving behind the heaviness of dealing with talking to my family for the day.