Love Me Again, Cowboy

“Oh, poor baby. That tiara feelin’ a little too heavy these days?”

“Ala,” I say in annoyance.

“I’m kidding, kidding. Go on, tell me more.”

“I guess I just feel lost.” I know where I had planned to be, but that was a lifetime ago. An image flashes through my mind of a young me sitting under a towering tree on a summer evening, held in the arms of the boy I loved, making life plans. I shake my head. They were the dreams of a foolish girl. I can’t explain how I feel to my sister when I’m not exactly sure about it myself. “I’m just not happy.”

“I thought you wanted to do movies next.”

“Well, my publicist seems to think that’s the right direction. I told her I wanted to pick roles in movies that make a difference. The ones with messages. But JulieAnn says that in order to get any role I want, I first have to break into movies with a splash, which is why I'm trying so hard to get an audition for the next Henry Wilson film. But I don’t know . . . acting just doesn’t feel right these days.”

“What does feel right?”

“This,” I say, closing my eyes for a moment. “This quiet room, here with you. Talking without worrying about saying or doing the wrong thing. Just being me. I miss this. I miss Mom and Dad and simplicity. When I’m around you guys, I’m not the Emmy-Award-winning actress that has to be perfect all the time. I’m just your kid sister.”

She sits upright and turns to face me. “Then come home with us. You need family.” She rubs her belly. “And Lord knows I could use an extra set of hands with this one coming soon.”

“Go back to Bisbee?” I want to say yes, but the truth is I’ve been avoiding going back for a long time. I’m not sure I want to face what awaits me in that small town.

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When I hesitate, my sister sighs. She can read my emotions as easily as she did when we were kids. “Malia, seriously? It’s been eight years. I thought you’d moved on.”

“I have,” I say defensively.

She laughs. “Really? So, you flying everyone to Hollywood to throw me a shower has nothing to do with not wanting to be in Bisbee?”

I lift a shoulder. “I thought the Hollywood party complete with Hollywood would be fun.”

She smacks her lips. “And it had nothing to do with Ja—”

I put my hand up to stop her. “I thought I made it clear that we don’t say his name.”

Ala glares at me. “Seriously, sis?”

I sigh and drop my gaze. “It’s just that I’ve been avoiding he-who-shall-not-be-named for so long that I’m comfortable with the avoidance.” I give her a smile and flutter my lashes. “Avoidance is my friend.”

“Avoidance is keeping you from your family. And did you ever think that maybe you need closure to fully move on?”

“What are you talking about? I’ve moved on. I left, didn’t I? I didn’t let a heartbreak keep me from my dreams.”

She gives me a pointed look. “I wasn’t talking on a professional level. Think about it. In the past eight years, you’ve barely even dated.”

“That’s not true. I was almost engaged—twice.”

“Exactly. You said no, both times. Haven’t you ever wondered why that is?”

I shrug but avoid eye contact by studying the hem of my dress. I pick at a loose thread. It unravels like those relationships had. I know perfectly well why I said no. Both of the ex-boyfriends who proposed were good guys, but as much fun as I had with them, it was nothing compared to what I had—and lost—with Jax. Maybe Ala is right. I do need closure. I certainly didn’t get it eight years ago. I look up into my sister’s knowing gaze. “Closure, huh?”

“Makes sense to me. And if nothing else, you can show him what he missed out on and rub it in his face. Let him eat his heart out. You’re beautiful, successful, and way too smart to let a breakup from eight years ago dictate your life and keep you from coming to see your family.”

I sit up straighter. “You know what, you’re right. Screw him. If I want to spend time with my family, that’s exactly what I’ll do. And some washed-up cowboy won’t stop me. Closure may be just what I need.” I’ll just have to tell JulieAnn to set up some training in Bisbee instead of Sedona.

Her eyes widen, and I get the feeling that she didn’t think I would actually agree to come. “Darn right, sistah! So, you’ll come? Really?”

“Yes.” A smile spreads across her face. I shrug. “Besides, he’s probably fat and balding now.”

Ala’s smile fades, and she shakes her head. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. Come on. Let’s tell Mom and Dad the good news.”