Promise Me

“You want to stay in California.”

“Yes.”

“Not because of the boy.”

I almost scoff. He’s definitely not a boy. “No, not because of Vaughn. I want to do this for me, Dad. I need to do this. I fell into a job that makes everything I’ve been through feel useful, and the thought of giving it up hurts.”

Mom takes my hand, squeezes.

Dad seems to be absorbing my announcement with a measure of reluctance, his jaw firm, his eyes narrowed. I guessed he wouldn’t be overjoyed by my decision, but I’d like his support, if not his approval. It’s time to appeal to the non-lawyer part of his brain.

r /> “I also want to continue building the bond Amber, Dixie, and I have forged. I think we’re on our way to being real sisters, and I don’t want to lose that by living halfway across the country.”

He scrubs a hand over his cheek. “You know I won’t object to that. But I can’t help you the same way if—”

“I don’t need your help, Dad,” I interrupt. “I mean, I did today, but moving forward, you just said so yourself that I’ve got this. I may want your help sometimes, but the decision should come from me.”

“I worry—”

“You’ll worry no matter where I am or what I’m doing. I need to do this. I think this is the path I’m supposed to take.”

The room is silent for several beats.

“How about we defer for a year and revisit the possibility in the spring? It never hurts to have a backup plan in case you change your mind.”

“Okay.” I won’t change my mind, but if the compromise means I have his acceptance, I’ll take it.

Mom sighs with relief and digs into her pie. Before Dad takes a bite he says, “I’m proud of who you are, Kenny.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“And no matter what, I love you.”

“Love you, too.” I take a bite of my food, relief flooding me. I’m so relieved I won’t be starting law school in the fall. “What was the interesting call you got today?” I ask, remembering I cut him off with my announcement.

“It was from Vaughn’s publicist.”

I choke. “What did she—or he—want?”

“She wanted to let me know they were handling things on their end and were very sorry for the attention Vaughn’s presence at the funeral created. She said she and her team were available should we need anything.”

“Wow,” I mutter.

“That’s so considerate,” Mom says.

“Before hanging up she told me Vaughn was doing an interview with Access Live today.”

“I love that program,” Mom says.

What kind of interview? Did he get the hosting job? On autopilot, I reach beside me for my phone then remember I left it upstairs—turned off. I’ve missed Vaughn more than I thought possible, and I’m incredibly antsy for any glimpse of him. Nothing would make me happier than to see he’s the new host of America Rocks and that this whole funeral fiasco hasn’t hurt him.

“I’m going to run upstairs and see if I can catch it.” I hurry out of the room before my parents say anything—or Mom wants to watch it with me.

Once I get to my bedroom, I climb onto my bed, lean against my headboard, and turn on the television. Luck is with me. The show is about to start. The program opens news-style with discussion on different celebrities. I tap my fingers on my leg. Chew on my bottom lip. Finally they preview the interview with Vaughn, coming up after the commercial break.

Which is taking forever. I bring my hand to my mouth, bite my nail. I’ve never bitten my nails in my life, but apparently it’s time to start.

Finally, Vaughn appears on screen with Kit. I like her. She’s always bubbly and sincere and I relax slightly, thinking Vaughn is in sensitive hands. They begin talking.