Until I’d realized Marley’s sister was Mo.
I’d started to wonder at the reunion when James had introduced me to Marley. It wasn’t a rare name, but not super common either. And I’d never forgotten the name of Mo’s sister. I’d never forgotten any of the things she’d told me.
So many times over the past four years, I’d thought of that night. I’d held on fiercely to the memory of those stolen moments. Dreamed of them, woke with them, vividly imagined her voice, the way she smiled and tossed her hair over her shoulder. The way she laughed at my jokes and asked about my art. I’d imagined going further than I had when I’d touched her hand or pressed our foreheads together. Played thewhat-ifgame in my mind until I thought I’d go crazy.
I’d used my text conversations with James to line up all the information Mo had given me four years ago. The name of the small town where he’d moved to become a teacher, Coleman Creek. I found out Marley had cared for her mother until her death just over a year ago. James and Marley had had lunch recently with Marley’s older sister, who lived in Seattle and worked in fashion.
That last one seemed definitive, other than Marley’s sister was named Maureen. I realized she must have given me a different name at the club, I assumed for safety reasons, since James andMarley never hinted she had a nickname. More proof that night had been surreal. Just like I wasn’t Billy. Or William. I’d circled back to Will. Except Will with less darkness riding him than he’d had in high school. I hoped.
Finally, it was James’s turn. The slideshow ran. He performed a horribly off-key rendering of Kelly Clarkson’s “Underneath the Tree.” And in the end, hundreds of pairs of eyes teared up as he and Marley embraced.
It was a happy ending for my oldest friend. I didn’t expect my own, obviously. The Christmas miracle had already happened—the insane coincidence of James’s Marley being Mo’s Marley. I just wanted to talk to her. Even if she hated me afterward.
As the auditorium cleared, I followed Leo and James’s parents over toward the happy couple. Marley’s sisters stood on the other side of her, with their backs to us, talking to a woman with a baby in each arm. I kept my gaze low, wanting to give Mo a chance to notice me before I attempted to speak to her. We drew closer, my pulse kicking into high gear.
The presence of both his family and me stunned James. He’d been grateful we’d sent the pictures but hadn’t expected us to make the trip. I told him the partial truth, that I’d come because I admired what he was doing and didn’t have other plans.
“What if Marley had turned me down?”
His ridiculous question helped calm my nerves. “Dude, I saw you two at our reunion. The way she showed up for you. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”
He smiled. I gave Marley a quick, congratulatory hug as James’s parents and brother started asking them about some of the student performers. Taking a few steps into the aisle, I drifted away from their conversation as my racing heart reminded me of my purpose. As much as I’d enjoyed reconnecting with my friend this past week, I hadn’t driven three hundred miles to hide behind him and make small talk.
My heartbeat moved from my throat to become a pounding orchestra in my head. Mo stood only feet away.
Keeping my eyes downcast, I took a fortifying breath and ran my palms over my thighs a few times before stuffing them in my pockets. Yet even as nerves threatened to consume me, it was almost a relief to feel this flustered. It had been a while since I’d felt much of anything.
I lifted my gaze as Mo turned in my direction.
A brief flinch was the only immediate evidence of her surprise. Cool green eyes met mine, the pupils dilated to black pools. She gripped a large purse in front of herself, knuckles whitening. Her jaw twitched beneath slightly flared nostrils as she attempted to maintain a neutral face. For the most part, she succeeded—except as the seconds passed, she couldn’t stop those stormy, searching eyes from narrowing.
Good. I’d been thinking she might pretend not to recognize me. I squared my shoulders and schooled my breathing, about to initiate conversation, when a sandy-haired ball of energy popped up in front of me, arm outstretched. “You’re Will, right? James’s friend from high school? I’m Miranda, Marley’s sister.” Her infectious smile broke through the tension in the air, and I found myself unwittingly charmed. But Mo looked concerned, glancing down as I removed my right hand from my pocket. Well, that answered that question. I’d always wondered if she’d noticed that night.
She needn’t have worried. Over the years, I’d improved at managing both daily tasks and the rude stares or questions that occasionally came my way. I shook Miranda’s hand and waited. There was a momentary pinch in her expression when I knew she registered my missing fingers. But it disappeared as quickly as it came.
“Yes, I’m Will. Great to meet you.”
“Cool, cool.” She bounced up on her heels and took her hand back, clapping it together with her other one. “Well, I really liked your slide. We heard a bit about you on the way here because Marley was telling us about going to James’s reunion—”
“That’s true,” Mo piped in. “She was telling us all about James’s friend,Will.” Her eyes narrowed at me again, and I imagined it was only because Miranda was made of cupcakes and sunshine that she didn’t pick up on the animosity in her sister’s voice.
“Oh, sorry,” Miranda said. “This is my other sister, Maureen.”
Mo—I really needed to think of her as Maureen—stuck her arm out. “Nice to meet you.” Ah, so she wasn’t pretending not to know me, but we would play that game for other people.
I stared down and realized I was about to touch her for the first time in four years. I reached out with my injured hand. In my dreams, my hand was always whole. And her palm wasn’t icy cold. In my dreams, when she pumped her arm up and down a few times, her eyes didn’t bore into me like I disgusted her.
“Nice to meet you as well.”
There was a reception happening in the room across from the auditorium. Most of the audience had made their way over there already, and James, Marley, and his family headed in that direction.
“We should catch up with them,” Maureen said to her sister, grabbing Miranda’s hand and moving to follow the crowd to the doorway. Away from me.
Miranda looked over her shoulder at me. “You’re coming, right?”
The two of them turned toward the exit.Damn, was that it?Four years later and all I’d gotten was a glare, a handshake, and a dismissal. I wasn’t entirely sure what I’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been that. I’d thought there’d at least be some questions, loud words maybe—not one minute of introductions and bye.
Should I follow? Try to confront her? That’s what I’d come here for. But dammit. If she didn’t want that, did I really have the right to push? If she wanted to ignore me or pretend I didn’t exist, didn’t I owe it to her to let her? Shit. I really wanted the chance to explain.
