“I can’t. She was on an earlier flight and I wasn’t able to reach her before her plane took off.”
Now I’m the one scraping a palm down my face.
At the baseball game, Gretchen told me how excited she was about this trip. When she lands in Arizona and finally talks to Drew, she’ll be crushed…and alone. I can’t stomach the thought of it.
“What can I do to help?”
“How much vacation time do you have?” Drew asks.
My brows furrow. “What?”
“Vacation days? I know you and Lauren took that trip out to Colorado in February but that was only three or four days, right?”
“Yeeaaahh.”
“But you get at least two weeks paid vacation every year? Orpaid time off or whatever? Maybe you have some personal days accrued? I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever known you to?—”
“Fisher!” I pipe in. “Take a breath, man.”
He takes one heavy breath and then another. Frankly, I do the same because I’ve already figured out what’s coming, but I need to hear him say it.
“I have plenty of vacation days, sick days, personal days, you name it,” I say calmly. “Tell me what you need me to do.”
One beat of silence. Two. Three.
“I need you to be on a plane to Arizona in four hours. Gretchen needs you.”
Chapter Eight
I DON’T WANT YOU TO BE ALONE
Gretchen
“I promisedI’d come through for you, didn’t I?”
As my plane descends into Phoenix, I replay the phone call I received right before I boarded in Chicago.
“Ahhh! I can’t wait to have you back here,” Monica had squealed in delight. She’s ten years older than me, but we clicked from the first day I started my internship back in January—boss on paper, but kindred spirits in every other way. “I’ll send over the job description for you to review and you send me your resume. I’ll pass it along to the hiring committee. Interviews will be the week after the July fourth holiday.”
I thanked her profusely for the referral and promised to get my resume emailed over by tonight. The job isn’t a guarantee, but the interviewplusMonica’s letter of recommendation increases my chances. It’s the bit of distracting good news I needed to start this trip.
Out the window across the aisle, orange hued mesas and buttes line the horizon. The sky the brightest shade of blue I’ve ever seen,the desert palm trees and cacti gleam green and bright under the blazing sun, resting against a backdrop of city buildings and residential areas.
As the landing gear touches down on the runway, a new wave of butterflies swoops low in my gut. If all goes according to plan, I’ll tell Drew everything over dinner tonight and, in three days, I’ll meet my birth mother.
The hustle of the other passengers has me on my feet in the aisle when the seat belt sign goes off, reaching for my carry-on in the overhead compartment. As I emerge off the jet bridge a few minutes later, I pull my phone from my pocket and switch off airplane mode. I make my way over to the large monitor display that lists upcoming arrivals. Before I can spot his flight number on the screen, my phone begins a symphony of buzzes and pings in my hand.
Dozens of notifications. Missed calls, voicemails, texts…all of them from my brother.
I fight an eye roll. His plane should be in line for takeoff by now, but I suspect I’m about to find out his flight is delayed. I open the texts first and my irritation turns to panic as I read the messages. The first one was sent a few minutes after I switched to airplane mode back in Chicago.
Drew
Gretch! You’re not answering your phone. Please call me.
Two minutes later.
Drew
