Someone could be you, my sister’s voice piped up in my head.
No sooner had she invaded my inner thoughts than the phone buzzed and I looked down and saw that it was her calling.
“Hey Ash,” I answered as I stepped out into the sunroom.
The Edison lights he’d hung gave the room a romantic glow. I’d mentioned that I was thinking about putting them up in passing a few weeks ago, and not two days later they were up. That was the thing about Hank, he was a doer. A fixer. An everything-I-ever-wanted-in-a-man-er.
“I’m leaving school,” she skipped the greetings getting right to the point.
“No. You’re not.” I stated calmly since clearly she was having some sort of early-twenties crisis.
“I mean, I’m leaving this school. I’m going to transfer to SCAD.”
The Savannah College of Art and Design was a school that Ashley had considered after graduation. But once she got into SFAI she decided to stay on the West Coast.
“You are?”
“Yep. I’m finishing out this semester and then I’m transferring. I love Firefly. I know I was only there for the weekend, but I love it there.”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with Harlan, does it?” I only half-teased.
Harlan Mitchell had been chatting Ashley up when she came into Southern Comfort the night I was working. The two of them had danced and played pool. During the game, Skittles kept calling her “pretty girl” which she’d eaten up.
“No. I’m not moving across the country for a man. I’m doing it because I know you’ve found your place. You’re home. And Luna grew at least an inch since the last time I saw her which was only a few months ago. I don’t want to miss her growing up. And I miss you. You’re all the family I have.”
I felt myself tearing up.
“Are you mad?”
“No. I’m not mad.” I wiped my tears. “I’m happy.”
“Good, because I lied. I’m not finishing my semester. I already transferred.”
“What?” I asked as there was a knock at the door.
“Answer your door.”
“Oh my god!” I rushed to the front of the house and flung the door open.
Ashley was standing on the other side. She had a carrier with Mr. Purrfect in one hand and an overnight bag in the other.
“Surprise!”
Just like the first time she’d shown up unannounced, I pulled her into my arms and began to bawl.
“Hey, are you okay?” she hugged me.
“I’m just so happy that you’re here!”
I was still holding her in my arms when my phone rang again. This time when I looked down, I saw that it was Richie’s mother calling.
“It’s Mrs. DiNardo,” I told my sister as she came inside.
“I’ll talk to her,” Ashley grabbed at the phone but I held out my hand.
“No.” Ashley had zero filter and this was a situation that definitely required a filter. I took a breath before pressing the green button. “Hello.”
I hadn’t heard anything from them or Richie since the night he broke in and I wondered if this was it, the call I’d been dreading that he was in jail, the hospital, or worse.
“Skylar,” Mrs. DiNardo sniffed and my hand covered my mouth as I braced myself to hear the words I’d been terrified to hear. “Skylar, thank you!”
Wait. Thank you?
“Wh…what?” I asked lowering my hand. “Thank you for what?”
“Put it on speaker,” Ashley stage-whispered as she let Mr. Purrfect out of his carrier.
I shook my head but she took the phone out of my hand and did it anyway. I was too confused to stop her.
“For everything you did for Richie,” she gushed as her voice came through the speaker. “You saved our boy!”
I looked at Ashley, not having any idea what she was talking about.
“I don’t know who Hank is, but please thank him for us.” Mr. DiNardo said. “Richie says he owes his life to him.”
“We talked to him today,” Mrs. DiNardo explained. “I guess it’s pretty strict where he is, so today was the first day he was allowed a call and, Skylar, he sounded so good.”
“He says it’s the first time he’s been sober in over five years,” Mr. DiNardo added. “Those other places he went for help were jokes, but this place is the real deal.”
“Thank you, Skylar. Thank you for not giving up on him.”
“Um…” I was speechless. “You’re welcome.”
“We know it’s late there, but we just had to call. Speak with you soon and give Luna our love.”
The screen went back to the picture of Luna that was my screensaver and I looked up at Ashley.
“Hank got Richie into a rehab?” she asked the same question I’d had myself.
“It sounds like it.”
“You didn’t know?” Her eyes widened.
“No. I told you, he left with Hank who was taking him to the bus stop.”
“Who’s paying for the rehab?”
I hadn’t even thought of that, but from the ones I’d funded I knew they weren’t cheap. And apparently, those had been a joke.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, call Hank. We need answers.”
“Um…” I hadn’t told my sister that we weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Just like I hadn’t shared with her that he’d told me he loved me and I’d told him goodbye.
Her arms crossed in front of her chest. “What did you do?”
“Why do you think it’s me?”
“Because I know you. He was perfect for you but being with him would make you have to give up the one thing you love the most.”
“Luna?” I had no clue what she was talking about, Hank loved Luna.
“No, not Luna. I’m not talking about people, I’m talking about you.”
“I’d have to give up me?”
“Control, Skylar. Being with Hank would mean you have to give up control and that scares the shit out of you.”
Was she right?
Was that the real reason I’d walked away?
Was I that much of a control freak?
“Yes, yes, and yes.” Ashley answered my unspoken questions as she started pushing me out of the front door.
“What are you doing?”
“Go see Hank. Tell him you love him. Say you’re sorry. Thank the shit out of him for getting Richie’s ass into rehab. And then be back here by seven in the morning because I have an interview for an internship in Savannah at eight.”
“You already have an internship?!”
“Yes. Now go.” Ashley shoved me out the door and shut it in my face.
I hope the saying is true that when one door closes another one opens, I thought as I walked across the field beneath a dark, starry sky.
My butterflies were back and it felt like they were throwing a rave complete with glow sticks and techno music. I had no idea what was going to happen when I showed up on Hank’s doorstep.
A week ago, he’d said that he loved me, that what we had was sustainable, and real. I just hoped there wasn’t an expiration date on those statements. And if there was, that I hadn’t missed it.