Текст книги "We'll Always Have Summer"

Автор книги: Jenny Han

Соавторы: Jenny Han
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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

Chapter Forty-nine

Conrad

I was in my car, driving away, my adrenaline pumping hard.

I finally said it. The actual words, out loud, to her face.

It was a relief, not carrying it around anymore, and it was a rush, actually telling her. I was in an elated sort of daze, on a high. She loved me. I didn’t need to hear her say it out loud, I knew it innately in the way she looked at me just then.

But now what? If she loved me and I loved her, what did we do now, when there were so many people in between us? How could I ever get to her? Did I have it in me to just grab her hand and run away? I believed she’d come with me. If I asked her, I believed she really might come. But where would we even go? Would they forgive us? Jere, Laurel, my dad. And if I really did take her away, where would I be leading her?

Beyond that, the questions and the doubts, in the pit of my stomach, there was all this regret. If I had told her a year ago, a month ago, even a week ago, would things be different now? It was the day before her wedding. In twenty-four hours, she would be married to my brother.

Why did I wait so long?

I drove around for a while, into town and then along the water, then I went back to the house. None of the cars were parked in the driveway, so I thought I was home free for a while—but then there was Taylor sitting on the front porch.

“Where is everybody?” I asked her.

“Well hello to you, too.” She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. “They went sailing.”

“Why didn’t you go with them?”

“I get seasick.” Taylor eyed me. “I need to talk to you.”

Warily, I eyed her back. “About what?”

She pointed at the chair next to hers. “Come sit down first.”

I sat.

“What did you say to Belly last night?”

Averting my eyes, I said, “What did she tell you?”

“Nothing. But I can tell something’s wrong. I know she was crying last night. Her eyes were completely swollen this morning. I would be willing to bet money that she was crying because of you. Again. Nice one, Conrad.”

I could feel my chest tighten. “It’s none of your business.”

Taylor glared at me. “Belly is my oldest friend in the world. Of course it’s my business. I’m warning you, Conrad. Leave her alone. You’re confusing her. Again.”

I started to stand up. “Are we done?”

“No. Sit your ass back down.”

I sat down again.

“Do you have any idea how badly you’ve hurt her, over and over again? You treat her like a toy that you just pick up and play with whenever you feel like it. You’re like a little boy. Someone else took what was yours, and you don’t like that one bit, so you swoop in and shit all over everything just because you can.”

I exhaled. “That’s not what I’m trying to do.”

She bit her lip. “Belly told me that a part of her will always love you. Are you still trying to tell me you don’t care?”

She said that? “I never said I didn’t care.”

“You’re probably the only one who could stop her from going though with this wedding. But you’d better be damn sure you still want her, because if you don’t, you’re just effing up their lives for no reason.” She put her sunglasses back on. “Don’t eff up my best friend’s life, Conrad. Don’t be a selfish bastard like usual. Be the good guy she says you are. Let her go.”

Be the good guy she says you are.

I thought I could do it, fight for her till the end, not think about anyone else. Just grab her hand and run. But if I did that, wouldn’t I be proving Belly wrong? I wasn’t a good guy. I would be a selfish bastard just like Taylor said. But I would have Belly next to me.

Chapter Fifty

That night, we all had dinner at a newish restaurant in town—my parents, Mr. Fisher, all of us kids. I wasn’t hungry, but I ordered a lobster roll and I ate every bite of it, and every fry, because my dad was paying. He insisted.

My dad, who wore the same white dress shirt with gray stripes for every “fancy” occasion. He was wearing it that night, sitting next to my mother in her navy shirtdress, and my heart just swelled with love every time I looked at the two of them.

And there was Taylor, pretending to be interested as my dad went on about a lobster’s nervous system. Sitting next to Anika, who actually did look interested. Next to Anika was my brother, who was rolling his eyes.

Conrad sat at the far end of the table, with Jere’s friends. I made a conscious effort not to look in his direction, to just keep focused on my plate, on Jeremiah next to me. I didn’t have to bother, because Conrad wasn’t looking at me either. He was talking to the guys, to Steven, to my mother. To everyone but me. This is what you wanted, I reminded myself. You told him to leave you alone. You asked for this.

You can’t have it both ways.

“Are you okay?” Jeremiah whispered.

I lifted my head and smiled at him. “Yeah! Of course.

I’m just full.”

Jeremiah took one of my fries and said, “Save room for dessert.”

I nodded. Then he leaned over and kissed me, and I kissed him back. After, I saw his eyes flicker over to the end of the table, so quick I could have imagined it.

Chapter Fifty-one

Conrad

I felt like I was going out of my mind that night. Sitting there at the table with everyone, cheersing when my dad made a toast, trying not to watch when Jere kissed her in front of all of us.

After dinner was over, Jere and Belly and all their friends went to the boardwalk for ice cream. My dad and Belly’s dad went to their hotel. It was just Laur and me back at the house. I was on my way up to my room, but Laurel stopped me and said, “Hey, let’s have a beer, Connie. I think we deserve it, don’t you?”

We sat at the kitchen table with our beers. She clinked my bottle and said, “To … what should we toast to?”

“What else? To the happy couple.”

Without looking at me, Laurel said, “How are you doing?”

“Good,” I said. “Great.”

“Come on. This is your Laura you’re talking to. Tell me. How are you feeling?”

“Honestly?” I swigged my beer. “It’s pretty much killing me.”

Laurel looked back at me, her face tender. “I’m sorry.

I know you love her a lot, kid. This must be really hard on you.”

I could feel my throat starting to close up. I tried to clear it, unsuccessfully. I could feel it coming up in my chest, behind my eyes. I was going to cry in front of her.

It was the way she said it, it was like my mom was right there, knowing without me having to tell her.

Laurel took my hand and clasped it in hers. I tried to pull it away, but she held on tighter. “We’ll get through it tomorrow, I promise. It’ll be you and me, kid.” Squeezing my hand, she said, “God, I miss your mom.”

“Me too.”

“We really need her right now, don’t we?”

I bowed my head and started to cry.

Chapter Fifty-two

I wanted to sleep in Jeremiah’s room that night, but when I started to follow him upstairs, Taylor wagged her finger at me. “Uh-uh. It’s bad luck.”

So I’d gone to my room, and he’d gone to his.

It was too hot. I couldn’t sleep. I’d kick the covers off and flip my pillow over to cool off, but it didn’t help. I kept looking at the alarm clock. One o’clock, two o’clock.

When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I threw off my sheets and put on my bathing suit. I didn’t turn on any lights, I just found my way downstairs in the darkness.

The moonlight was enough to guide me. Everyone else was asleep.

I made my way outside, down to the pool. I dove in, held my breath for as long as I could. I could already feel my bones start to relax. When I came back up for air, I floated on my back and looked up at the sky. The stars were out. I loved how quiet it was, how still. The only thing I could hear was the ocean lapping against the sand.

Tomorrow I would become Isabel Fisher. It was what I always wanted, my girlhood dream come true a thousand times over. And I’d wrecked it. Or rather, I was about to wreck it. I had to tell the truth. I couldn’t marry Jeremiah tomorrow like this, not with a secret that big between us.

I climbed out of the pool, put the towel around me, and went inside the house, up to Jeremiah’s room. He was asleep, but I shook him awake. “I need to talk to you,” I said.

Water from my hair dripped onto his pillow, onto his face.

Groggily, he said, “Isn’t it bad luck?”

“I don’t care.”

Jeremiah sat up, wiping his cheeks. “What’s up?”

“Let’s talk outside,” I said.

We went down to the porch and sat on a lounge chair.

Without preamble, I said, quietly, “Last night Conrad told me he still has feelings for me.”

I could feel Jeremiah’s body go rigid beside me. I waited for him to speak, and when he didn’t, I went on.

“Of course I told him I didn’t feel the same way. I wanted to tell you sooner, but then I thought it would be a mistake, that I should keep it to myself—”

“I’m going to kill him,” he said, and hearing those words coming out of his mouth shocked me. He stood up.

I tried to pull him back down next to me, but he resisted. I pleaded, “Jere, no. Don’t. Please just sit here and talk to me.”

“Why are you protecting him?”

“I’m—I’m not. I’m not.”

He looked down at me. “Are you marrying me to erase him?”

“No,” I said, and it came out more like a gasp. “No.”

“The thing is, Bells, I don’t believe you,” Jeremiah said, and his voice was strangely flat. “I see the way you look at him. I don’t think you’ve ever looked at me like that.

Not even once.”

I jumped up and grabbed at his hands desperately, but he pulled away. I was breathing hard when I said, “That’s not true, Jere. It’s not true at all. What I feel for him is all memories. That’s it. It has nothing to do with us. All that’s in the past. Can’t we just forget the past and make our own future? Just the two of us?”

Levelly, he said, “Is it the past? I know you saw him over Christmas. I know you guys were together here.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

“Say something. Go ahead, try to deny it.”

“Nothing happened between us, Jere. I promise you. I didn’t even know he was gonna be here. The only reason I didn’t tell you was—” What was it? Why didn’t I tell 256 · jenny han

him? Why couldn’t I think of a reason? “I didn’t want you to be upset over nothing.”

“If it was nothing, you would have told me about it.

Instead you kept it a secret. After all that stuff you said to me about trust, you kept that to yourself. I felt like shit for what I did with Lacie, and you and I weren’t even together when it happened.”

I felt sick inside. “How long have you known?”

“Does it matter?” he snapped.

“Yes, to me it does.”

Jeremiah started to back away from me. “I’ve known since it happened. Conrad mentioned he saw you, he thought I already knew. So of course I had to play it off like I did. Do you know how stupid I felt?”

“I can imagine,” I whisper.

“Why didn’t you say something?” I asked him. We were standing only five or six feet away from each other, but it felt like miles. It was his eyes. They were so distant.

“I was waiting for you to tell me. And you never did.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have told you. I was wrong.” It was stupid. My heart was beating so fast. “I love you. We’re getting married tomorrow. Me and you, right?”

When he didn’t answer me, I asked again. “Aren’t we?”

“I’ve got to get out of here,” he said at last. “I need to think.”

“Can I come with you?”

This time the answer came swiftly, and it was devastat-ing. “No,” he said.

He left, and I didn’t try to follow him. I just sank onto the steps. I couldn’t feel my legs. I couldn’t feel my body.

Was this happening? Was this real? It didn’t feel real.

Chapter Fifty-three

Somewhere outside, a goldfinch was singing. Or maybe it was a song sparrow. My dad had tried to teach me the different kinds of bird songs, but I couldn’t quite remember.

The sky was gray. It wasn’t raining yet. But any minute now, it was going to pour. It was like any other morning in Cousins Beach. Except it wasn’t, because I was getting married.

I was reasonably sure I was getting married. The only thing was, I had no idea where Jeremiah had gone or if he was even coming back.

I was sitting at the vanity mirror in my pink bathrobe, trying to curl my hair. Taylor was at the beauty salon, and she’d tried to persuade me to get mine done there too, but I’d said no. The only time I ever got my hair done, I hated the way it looked. Like a beauty pageant contestant, stiff and high. I didn’t look like me. I thought that today of all days, I should look like me.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” I said, trying to fix a curl that had already gone limp.

The door opened. It was my mother. She was already dressed. She was wearing a suit jacket and linen pants and was carrying a lemon yellow envelope. I recognized it right away: Susannah’s personal stationery. It was so like her. I wished I was worthy of it. It hurt to think that I had let her down like this. What would she say if she knew?

My mother closed the door behind her. “Do you want me to help?” she asked.

I handed her the curling iron. She set down the letter on my dresser. She stood behind me, sectioning my hair off into thirds. “Did Taylor do your makeup? It looks nice.”

“Yeah, she did. Thanks. You look really nice too.”

“I’m not ready for this,” she said.

I looked at her in the mirror, winding my hair around the barrel, her head down. My mother was beautiful to me in that moment.

She put her hands on my shoulders and looked at me in the mirror. “This isn’t what I wanted for you. But I’m here. This is your wedding day. My only daughter.”

I reached over my shoulder and took her hand. She squeezed my hand tight, so tight it hurt. I wanted to confide in her, to confess that things were a mess, that I didn’t even know where Jeremiah was or if I would be getting married after all. But it had taken her so long to get here, and if I raised one single doubt now, that would be more than enough for her to put an end to it. She would throw me over her shoulder and carry me away from this whole wedding.

So all that came out was, “Thank you, Mommy.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. She looked over toward my window. “Do you think the weather will hold?”

“I don’t know. I hope so.”

“Well, if worst comes to worst, we’ll move the wedding inside. No big shakes.” Then she handed me the letter. “Susannah wanted you to have this on your wedding day.”

My mother kissed me on the top of my head and walked out of the room.

I picked up the letter, ran my fingers along my name, written in Susannah’s smooth cursive. Then I put it back down on the dresser. Not yet.

There was a knock at the door. “Who is it?” I asked.

“Steven.”

“Come in.”

The door opened, and Steven came in, closing it behind him. He was wearing the white linen shirt and khaki shorts all the groomsmen were wearing. “Hey,” he said, sitting down on my bed. “Your hair looks nice.”

“Is he back?”

Steven hesitated.

“Just tell me, Steven.”

“No. He’s not back. Conrad went off to find him. He thinks he knows where Jere went.”

I let out a breath. I was relieved, but at the same time—what would Jeremiah do when he saw Conrad?

What if it only made things worse?

“He’s going to call as soon as he finds him.”

I nodded, then picked up the curling iron again.

My fingers trembled, and I had to steady my hand so I wouldn’t burn my cheek.

“Did you tell Mom anything?” Steven asked.

“No. I haven’t told anybody. So far there’s nothing to tell.” I wound a piece of hair around the barrel. “He’ll be here. I know he will.” And I mostly believed it.

“Yeah,” Steven said. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. Do you want me to stay with you?”

I shook my head. “I need to get ready.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Just let me know as soon as you hear something.”

Steven stood up. “I will.” Then he came over and patted my shoulder awkwardly. “Everything’s going to work out, Belly.”

“Yup, I know it will. Don’t worry about me. Just find Jere.”

262 · jenny han

As soon as he was gone, I set the curling iron down again. My hand was shaking. I would probably burn myself if I didn’t give it a rest. My hair was curled enough anyway.

He was coming back. He was coming back. I knew he was.

And then, because there was nothing left to do, I put on my wedding dress.

I was sitting at the window, watching my dad string Christmas lights on the back porch, when Taylor burst into the room.

Her hair was in an updo, and it looked tight around her forehead. She was carrying a brown paper bag and an ice coffee. “Okay, so, I brought lunch, Anika’s helping your mom set the tables up, and this weather isn’t doing my hair any favors,” Taylor announced, all in one breath. “And I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m pretty sure I felt a raindrop on the way inside.” Then she said, “Why are you already in your dress? There’s still loads of time before the wedding. Take it off. It’s going to get all wrinkly.”

When I didn’t answer her, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Jeremiah isn’t here,” I said.

“Well, of course he isn’t here, dummy. It’s bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony.”

“He’s not at home. He left last night, and he hasn’t come back.” My voice was surprisingly calm. “I told him everything.”

Her eyes bulged. “What do you mean, everything?”

“The other day, Conrad told me he still has feelings for me. And last night, I told Jeremiah.” I let out a breath that was more like a gasp. These past couple of days had felt like weeks. I didn’t even know when or how it all happened. How things got so confused. It was jumbling up in my mind, my heart.

“Oh my God,” Taylor said, covering her mouth with her hands. She sank down onto the bed. “What are we going to do?”

“Conrad went looking for him.” I was looking out the window again. My dad was finished with the porch, and he’d moved on to the bushes. I came away from the window and started unzipping my dress.

Startled, she said, “What are you doing?”

“You said it’s going to wrinkle, remember?” I stepped out of the dress, and it slipped to the floor, a silky white puddle. And then I picked it up and put it on a hanger.

Taylor put my robe over my shoulders, and then she turned me around and tied the sash for me like I was a little girl. “It’s going to be okay, Belly.”

Someone knocked on the door, and both our eyes flew over to it. “It’s Steven,” my brother said, opening it.

He came in and shut the door behind him. “Conrad got him back.”

I sank onto the floor and let out a big gust of air. “He’s back,” I repeated.

Steven said, “He’s showering, and then he’ll be dressed and ready to go. Go get married, I mean. Not leave again.”

Taylor knelt down next to me. Perched on her knees, she grabbed my hand and entwined my fingers with hers.

“Your hand is cold,” she said, warming it with her other hand. Then she said, “Do you still want to do this? You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. I had been so scared he wasn’t going to go come back. Now that he was here, all the fear and panic were rising up to the surface.

Steven sat next to me and Taylor on the floor. He put his arm around me, and he said, “Belly. Take this however you want to take it, okay? I have five words for you. Are you ready?”

I opened my eyes and nodded.

Very solemnly he said, “Go big or go home.”

“What the hell does that even mean, Steven?” Taylor snapped.

A laugh escaped from deep down in my chest. “Go big or go home? Go big or go home.” I was laughing so hard, tears were running down my cheeks.

Taylor jumped up. “Your makeup!”

She grabbed the box of tissues on the dresser and wiped my face delicately. I was still laughing. “Snap out of it, Conklin,” Taylor said, shooting a worried look at my brother. The flower in her hair was askew. She was right: the humidity wasn’t doing her hair any favors.

Steven said, “Aw, she’s fine. She’s just having a laugh.

Right, Belly?”

“Go big or go home,” I repeated, giggling.

“I think she’s hysterical or something. Should I slap her?” Taylor asked my brother.

“No, I’ll do it,” he said, advancing toward me.

I stopped laughing. I wasn’t hysterical. Or maybe I was, a little bit. “I’m fine, you guys! Nobody gets to slap me.

Geez.” I stood up. “What time is it?”

Steven pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “It’s two o’clock. We still have a couple of hours before people get here.”

Taking a deep breath, I said, “Okay. Steven, will you go tell Mom I think we should move the wedding inside?

If we push the couches to the side, we can probably fit a couple of the tables in the living room.”

“I’ll get the other guys on it,” he said.

“Thanks, Stevie. And Taylor, will you—”

Hopefully, she asked, “Stay and fix your makeup?”

“No. I was going to ask if you could get out too. I need to think.”

Exchanging looks, the two of them shuffled out of my room, and I shut the door behind them.

As soon as I saw him, everything would make sense again. It had to.