It’s not as bad as at Mai’s house, where her scientist parents announce it the way they might announce lunch. “Daddy and I are going to have sex now.” When Mai’s brother, Ethan, was back from Harvard, they had a family meeting. Both kids asked if they could please come up with a euphemism. So her mom started saying things like, “Dad and I are going to wrestle in bed,” or “We’re going to have a bouncy nap.”
So that didn’t work.
Mom keeps it low-key, which is cool, but I swear it’s starting to feel like she’s only using him for it. He sneaks in and out when I’m not home, and he doesn’t come over just to watch TV and eat burned grilled cheese sandwiches with us. He wants more. I’ve heard him say so. I’m not sure why she won’t let it move beyond…bouncy naps.
“You know, it would be fine if he hung out here,” I offer. “I like James. I’ve told you that a million times.”
“I know.” She kneels in front of the shelves and starts replacing the tubs.
I get down beside her and do the same. “So then what’s the deal?”
“No deal. He has a life. So do I.”
“You could have a life together. You deserve to be with a guy who puts you first for a change.”
She pauses, holding a tub of turmeric. “I’m not in any hurry. I like that it’s just you and me.”
I smile because I like it, too, even though I know I’m not supposed to. “My friends think it’s weird. They can’t wait to get out of their houses and live in the dorms.”
“You can still do that if you want.”
My stomach clenches at the thought because no, I don’t want. “Why should I share a tiny room with someone who might have terrible taste in music and eat peanut butter out of the jar with a finger?” I add, “Besides, my classes are mostly online, so I’ll be here all day—running the business with you. It doesn’t make sense to waste time and money on a dorm room and a commute.”
“What about the social part?” she asks.
“Mai will be gone, but I can still see Jasmine and Avi on the weekends.”
Our eyes meet, and even though everything I’ve said is 100 percent true, her gaze says she knows none of it is the real reason.
I shrug and speak through a suddenly tight throat. “I want this to be home for a little while longer.”
“It is your home, Josie. For as long as you want.”
She slides the last tub in place with a sigh, and I know we both feel the weight of those years, those moves. I didn’t mind at the time. Didn’t think I minded. It was part of the deal—while my father was chasing the game, we had to move to where the opportunities were. I knew it wouldn’t be like that forever. But I still woke up some mornings not sure where I was. And even though I got good at walking into strange schools, it never got easier.
It wasn’t until he was gone that the nightmares started. I’d wake in the middle of the night in a panic—afraid he was leaving. That he would leave me behind. I’d fly out of bed, heart pounding, before I remembered that we were in Phoenix now. That he’d already left me behind. Shame and disgust would follow me back to bed. Even after everything, I was still trying to follow him. I haven’t woken up like that in a long time, and I never want to again.
“We’re in a good place now,” Mom says.
“The best,” I agree.
“And I have some great news,” she adds as we both stand. “I made an appointment with the business attorney. We’ll sign the partnership forms and make it official on your eighteenth birthday.” She squeezes my shoulder. “Melissa and Josie Walters, Partners.”
“Or maybe Josie and Melissa Walters. That sounds even better.”
She laughs. “Already power hungry. I like it.” Her smile reflects my happiness. “But we do need to be ready.”
I brush a streak of dust off her sleeve. “Why does this feel like a segue into the website?”
“Because it is.” She looks at me with a hint more exasperation than the last time she brought it up. “You still haven’t started it, have you?”
“You’re awfully bossy for a partner.”
“We’re not partners until May fourth. I’m still in charge for another eight weeks.”
“I’m going to start it this week. I promise. It’ll be done by the time we’re official.”
Her eyes soften. “We’ve come a long way from that first summer, haven’t we?”
“You didn’t think we could do it.”
“I couldn’t have without you.”
I nod, my heart full. Dad had left, but Mom didn’t want to uproot me, so we stayed in Florida for my final year of middle school. Money was tight. Dad promised the checks would come, but he promised a lot of things. Mom had started AromaTher a few years before, building it slowly. But now it’s our main source of income. I had to help Mom expand things, tagging along to parties and working farmers markets. It started as a necessity, became a distraction, and then an anchor.
Now here we are in Phoenix where Mom grew up. This room might look like a mess, but the business is established now. Grounded. Like I am. Mai thinks AromaTher is my way of settling for stability. But after the way I grew up, stability isn’t a bad thing.
It’s everything.
Chapter Four
The hallways are packed before first lunch. It feels like we’re being carried along by a stampede of wild animals, all of them braying at the top of their lungs. Mai is shoved by a skinny girl in a shirt that reads, “I hate people.” When Mai turns to her with a “Hey!” she gets a middle finger in response.
“That’s who I’ll be talking to.” Mai raises her voice in frustration—and to be heard over the crowd.
