Hold the Forevers

“Yeah,” I whispered. “I thought he was forever.”

“Cole?”

I stared up at her blankly.

She patted my arm reassuringly. “Both of them.”

“It was never going to happen though, was it?”

My mom sighed. “I don’t know, honey, but you don’t need a man to be happy.”

“Like you? Do you miss Dad?” I asked the question that I’d always held back.

My mom didn’t talk about my dad. It was bad enough that he’d abandoned her with four daughters right after my birth. It was worse that she still obviously loved him.

“Some days,” she said. “But just because he was my one doesn’t mean I’m not better without him. I got to raise four beautiful girls. I’ve had the best life for me, and you’ll find the best life for you.”

I sure hoped she was right.

34

Santa Monica

June 23, 2017

“Keep the mimosas coming,” Josie said.

She waved her fresh manicure at the waiter and rolled over on the cushioned chair to look at me and Marley. We were in the swank Santa Monica Hotel Casa del Mar for Josie’s wedding. She’d booked us suites for the weekend, and we were currently lounging poolside in skimpy bikinis, drinking Dom Pérignon, and soaking up the California sun.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married tomorrow,” Marley said from the pool.

“Again,” I said.

Josie stuck her tongue out at me. “It’s going to be amazing. Like, just imagine the Santa Monica beach decked out for our wedding. I’m thinking we all run to the pier afterward and jump on the Ferris wheel.”

I laughed. Marley turned green.

“You know how I feel about heights.”

“Just one turn!” Josie insisted.

“I’ll keep you safe,” I told Mars.

“I’m going to need to be drunk. A drunk bridesmaid.”

“Whatever. It’s LA. It’s fine.”

“When does Craig get back from Vegas?” Marley asked.

“Tomorrow morning.”

Josie’s groom, Craig, had been gone the last three days on some Vegas bachelor party extravaganza. His best man had planned and decided to tell Josie that it was going to be à la The Hangover. They’d even gotten the penthouse at Caesars. Josie had opted for something more low-key. We’d spent all morning at the spa, and after our mimosa pool day, we were doing a decadent dinner out in Malibu and going to some swank nightclub.

Josie had planned her own bachelorette party. To no one’s surprise.

I flopped back on the cushion. “I can’t believe this is your life.”

“I know,” she gushed. “I mean … I still can’t believe that Academy is going into its seventh season.”

“Hottest show on television.” I waggled my eyes up and down. “Literally.”

“When they dropped the PG rating, it increased viewership,” she agreed. “I mean, look at HBO shows. We can compete with that.”

Marley wrinkled her nose. “You were supposed to be family fun.”

“And it was for four straight high school seasons. We know college isn’t that way.”

“Even in supernatural college,” I said, barely suppressing a laugh.

“Precisely,” Josie said.

“So, do you think season eight will be your last season?” Marley asked. Academy had already been green lighted for another season, but none of us knew if it would go beyond that. “Since you’ll finish the college years?”

Josie shrugged. “A girl can get a PhD.”

Marley snorted. “PhDs aren’t glamorous.”

“I love this for you. All your dreams coming true.”

“And what about you?” Josie asked, turning the tables. “Are all your dreams coming true?”

“Lila has the best dating stories,” Marley said.

“Ugh!” I covered my eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Tell me!” Josie insisted. “It’s my wedding. I want to hear the wonderful life of Lila dating.”

“Just imagine every bad thing that could happen in dating, and that’s been my life.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Josie said.

“Oh, it can,” Marley said. “Probably worse.”

Josie’s eyes widened. “Do tell. It can’t be worse than your boyfriends duking it out on the church steps on Christmas Day.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “I wasn’t dating both of them.”

“Semantics.”

“You’re a bitch.”

“I love you too.” Josie blew me air kisses. “You were devastated after that. Dating can’t possibly make you think that it wasn’t that bad.”

“I mean, it was terrible, but in a different way,” I said. “Dating is like slowly having the air sucked out of your lungs and some guy mansplaining to you about how to breathe.”

“Now, I must know!” Josie said. “Actually, I’m offended that you haven’t already told me.”

“You’ve been filming and wedding planning. When would I have told you?”

“Oh shush, give me the deets.”

“Fine. I joined Tinder and then Bumble because everyone said Bumble was better. They both didn’t work for me. The first guy I talked to catfished me. He’d claimed to be this guy, and then we met up two weeks later, and he was, like, a fifty-year-old man. Super fun. There was a promising guy. We talked for almost a month before I felt comfortable with meeting him. I’d been catfished before, and he swore he was into me. We went on three dates and then hooked up, and then I never heard from him again.”