Page 30 of 32 Days in May

Then, when we were both pubescent, Nicky was born and weirdly, everything finally felt complete. Liv and I made more sense with this little whiny baby boy around. He needed us both, for different reasons.

It was never either of our dreams to take over the butcher shop, but Liv had a hard time making herself unavailable. Then, she dropped out of hair school and met a nice neighborhood guy with forearms like oil tankards and all bets were off. She was the heir apparent.

“Whatever,” I say, instead of telling her to fuck off. The curse of being a younger sister. I physically cannot bring myself to be as mean to Liv as she is to me. Liv has had an existence, however brief, before me; I have never been without her. She was my first friend and probably will be my last.

“You need a jay-oh-bee, baby. A real one. If you don’t get moving, Dad’s gonna stick you back in the shop and that’s the last thing either of us needs.”

Liv isn’t wrong, but she’s being such a dick about it.

“I can’t come back to Philly,” I half whisper. “That might actually kill me.” Unlike lupus, which will just make my life infinitely more irritating over a fairly normal amount of time.

“I’ve known you your whole life, and you’re not a do-nothing person. You’re hiding, Nadia. I’m just worried, believe it or not, and I’m not going to coddle you.”

Now she’s recycling talking points, but my phone vibrates and I see Marco’s name and suddenly, I’m sitting up.

Marco: The only place I could get a hair appointment is in Cape May. Five star place tho.

My fingers explode over the keyboard immediately and I know he sees the three hovering dots. I backspace the nonsense I’ve written and flop back on the bed. My heart is pounding erratically in my chest.

“Are you even listening?”

“Uh huh.” I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to keep my voice even. “I hear you, Liv. I gotta go, okay? Tell Mike I say hi.”

“Ugh. Fine. Goodbye. I’ll see you Tuesday. No flaking.”

Right. Shit. Tuesday she’s coming into town to go bridesmaid dress shopping. That was why she called. The beginning of our conversation was so long ago, I can’t even remember the woman I was when it began.

“See you Tuesday,” I repeat, trying my best to make sure it doesn’t sound like a question.

* * *

Nadia: Cape May is an HOUR away

Marco: So?

Nadia: I have a life outside of Sweet Novembering

Marco: Prove it

Damn. Well, he got me there.

Nadia: Fine, but we have to go whale watching

I pause before hitting send on this text. Whale watching off the coast has been on my bucket list for years, even before moving to Evergreen. Back when I didn’t have a car. I’d talked about my dream of seeing a jumping whale endlessly to friends and guys I’d dated—especially when we found a day or two to sneak away to the Shore between the usual, unending thrum of life.

Then, suddenly, I was in Evergreen full-time, and I had a car—but nothing else. No friends (until I fully annexed Soph and Allie). No boyfriends. And frankly? No desire. What was I going to do, drive an hour to sit, exhausted and achy, on a boat alone?

What he’s proposed is, essentially, a very long errand. What I’m proposing is a dream come true. He doesn’t need to know that, I remind myself. There a lot of things Marco doesn’t need to know.

I hit send.

Oh fuck yeah, he replies and we agree to meet at 1 p.m. in the Billiard’s parking lot.

“Those kids were crazy-talented last night,” Marco says, dragging a hand down over his stubbled chin.

We’re taking all the back roads to Cape May, whipping past farmland and fields of reed, windows cracked, and sunshine-filled neo-jazz playing softly. It’s a little unseasonably warm, but I try not to think about it. Climate anxiety used to keep me up at night, but my world has shrunk. I take the sun at face value.

My throat hurts, but I’m trying to act like I don’t feel it. I’m trying instead to focus all my attention on the gentle, one-handed hold Marco has on the steering wheel. A sore throat is a bad sign. An omen for worsening symptoms, potentially even a flare-up. A shadow that’s suddenly hanging over me, and I’ll have to put as much effort as I can into not showing it. Especially considering how frequently Marco’s eyes drift from the road over to watch me.