“It’s not the same. This is a two-month internship, not a contract that’s going to lock you in for years in another country.”
I sigh, weighing how best to approach this. “I will not let you waste your talent on fear of the unknown. And I refuse to carry that kind of guilt around with me for the rest of my life. We already know what that looks like.”
His panic flares, and despite the fact that I’m sitting on his legs, they still manage a couple of bounces before they still. “What’re you saying?”
“You can’t put your life on hold. You have to sign with a team this year.”
His eyes harden, and his jaw tightens. I sincerely hope we’re not gearing up for a fight. “What if that’s not what I want? What if I want to go to grad school instead?”
I make a face. “You would’ve applied if that’s what you wanted, and you didn’t. Your mom posts the video of you playing hockey in your crib every year on your birthday. You played almost before you could walk. This is what you were meant to do, and you will be amazing no matter what team you play for or where. But you will play for a team this year.”
Fear and anger twine together. “This sounds a lot like an ultimatum, Lavender.”
I stroke his cheek; my anxiety mirrors his. “What do you think will happen to us if you throw away everything you’ve been working for just so you can be close to me? Isn’t that us falling into the same pattern of dependency we’ve worked so hard to overcome? How do you think that will end?”
He puts his hand over mine, and his eyes fall shut. He inhales deeply and releases the breath slowly, seeking calm as he absorbs my words. I allow him to fall back into the past, reliving every instance in which he tried to save me from myself, but couldn’t. He was great at calming the aftermath, but only I could ever save myself. Now it’s my turn to save him from me.
When he opens his eyes, he whispers, “Badly. It would end badly.”
I nod and give him a small, sad smile. “We’ll make it work, wherever you go.” I hope it’s not a little lie, because in my heart I believe it to be the truth.
Otherwise, what was the point of all the suffering in the first place?
____________________
The next few days are tense and anxious. I try not to show my distraction when I’m at the theater, but it’s tough. I’m watching the clock, counting the hours until I can be home with Kodiak.
The moment either of us walks in the door, we’re on each other. We barely make time for dinner or sleep, too consumed with getting in as much togetherness as we can before he has to fly to Chicago for the weekend.
He’ll only be gone a few days, but there’s a sense of urgency that increases as the days dwindle into hours.
On Thursday morning, Kodiak watches me get ready for work. I pull on one of my light summer dresses and fix my hair in a ponytail. I don’t bother with contacts these days, or makeup.
“Do you wonder if it would’ve been easier if I’d stayed in Chicago and let you come here on your own?” He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a polo and black pants, his suitcase packed and waiting by the front door.
“But then we wouldn’t know what it’s like to live together,” I offer.
“You’ve become my definition of home, and if I get picked up by a team out west, I’ll feel displaced.”
Kodiak’s way has always been able to filter the thoughts in his head and express only the ones he feels are most vital. I cross the room and step between his legs. We’ve been up since four and had sex three times between then and now, and still my body warms to his proximity.
I take his hand and place it against the side of my neck as he does the same to me. It will always be our thing. “We will adapt. How do you think our parents survived all those years with our dads on the road so much of the time? It’s an adjustment. And to answer your original question, I don’t know if it would’ve been easier or not. But we’ll always have this time that was just ours to hold on to when being apart hurts.”
“I wish it hadn’t taken me this long to learn how to love you without consuming you.”
I take his face in my hands. “You say it like you hold all the blame. We were equally complicit in our fall. Sometimes we have to break so we can recreate a stronger version of ourselves.” I press my lips to his, but pull back before he can deepen the kiss. “Promise me you’ll sign a contract.”
“I promise.” He makes an X over my heart and rises, sealing it with a searing, desperate kiss.
We walk down to street level together, and Kodiak makes a scene as he kisses me goodbye for far longer than is reasonable or appropriate. Afterward, I stand on the sidewalk, watching his cab disappear into morning traffic and feel the string that connects us pulling tighter the farther away he goes. It’s something I’ll have to get used to.
I manage to keep it together at work, but the moment I walk into the empty condo at the end of the day, I break down in tears. After stewing all day, I’m scared he might be right, and if he gets picked up by a West Coast team, we’re not going to be able to handle the distance.
I’m home for all of two minutes when there’s a knock on my door. The elderly woman down the hall sometimes has trouble with her key, so I wipe the tears away and try to get myself together enough to help her out.
Except when I open the door, it’s not my neighbor.
“Surprise!” My mom does jazz hands and nearly hits Lacey in the face. She ducks out of the way and elbows Lovey in the boob. Behind them are River and Josiah, who, unlike the twins, are standing a safe distance from my mom.
There’s a round of cringing and sorry before they all turn back to me.
“What are you guys doing here?”
“As if we were going to leave you here alone this weekend,” my mom says.
And of course I burst into tears, because that’s the kind of day it’s been. I can’t even speak I’m so choked up. They shuffle inside the condo and fold me into a group hug.
“We got you, Lavender.” My mom squeezes me tightly. “No matter what, you’re not going through this alone.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Go the Distance
Kodiak
Present day
MY DAD PICKS me up from the airport. He surprises me by pulling me into a hug. And not a back-slap man hug—a full-on, rib-crushing hug.
“Is everything okay? Where’s Mom?”
He releases me and smiles wryly. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Your mom had to take Dakota to his track meet, and Aspen is at robotics, designing some kind of fighting robot, but they should all be home by the time we get there.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “It’s good to have you home, son.”
I nod and blow out a breath. “I’m ambivalent about being home, if I’m going to be a 100 percent honest.”
He laughs. “I know, but your mom misses you, and so do your brother and sister. So feign enthusiasm when you see them.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll drop the morose BS by the time we get home.”
We head for the exit. “Things okay with Lavender?”
“Uh, yeah. Mostly.” I rub the back of my neck. It took all of my resolve not to hook into the plane Wi-Fi on the two-hour flight and try to negotiate some sort of new deal with her. Logical? Nope. Desperate? Definitely.