We'll Always Have Summer (Summer 3)

“Thank you,” Jeremiah said.

198 · jenny han

I said nothing. Inside, I was thinking how sick I was of everybody thinking I was pregnant just because we were getting married.

“We’ll need to do a credit check, and then I can process your application,” Carolyn said. “If everything checks out, the apartment is yours.”

“If you’ve been late on a few credit-card bills, will that, um, negatively impact a person’s credit?” Jeremiah asked, leaning forward.

I could feel my eyes widen. “What are you talking about?” I whispered. “Your dad pays your credit card.”

“Yeah, I know, but I started one freshman year too.

To build my credit,” he added, giving Carolyn a winning smile.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she said, but her smile had faded. “Isabel, how’s your credit?”

“Um, good, I think. My dad put me down on his credit card, but I never use it,” I said.

“Hmm. Okay, how about any department-store cards?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“We definitely have first and last month’s rent,”

Jeremiah put in. “And we have the security deposit, too.

So it’s all good.”

“Great,” Carolyn said, and she stood up from her chair.

“I’m going to process this today, and I’ll let you guys know within the next couple of days.”

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed,” I said, trying to sound cheerful.

Jeremiah and I walked out of the building and to the parking lot. When we were standing outside the car, I said, “I really hope we get that apartment.”

“If we don’t, I’m sure we can get one of the other ones. I doubt Gary would even do a credit check on us.”

“Who’s Gary?”

Jeremiah went around to the driver’s side and unlocked the door. “That guy from the last apartment we saw.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure Gary would still do a credit check.”

“Doubt it,” Jere said. “Gary was cool.”

“Gary probably has a meth lab in the basement,” I said, and this time Jeremiah rolled his eyes.

I continued. “If we lived in that apartment, we would probably wake up in the middle of the night in an ice bath without our kidneys.”

“Belly, he rents apartments to lots of students. A guy from my soccer team lived there all last year, and he’s fine.

Still has both kidneys and everything.”

We looked at each other from across the car, on opposite sides. Jere said, “Why are we still talking about this?

You got your way, remember?”

He didn’t finish the sentence the way I knew he wanted to—You got your way, like you always do.

“We don’t know if I got my way or not.”

I didn’t finish the sentence the way I wanted to—We don’t know if I got my way or not, because of your bad credit.

I jerked the passenger door open and got in.

I got the call later that week. We didn’t get the apartment.

I didn’t know if it was because of Jere’s bad credit or my lack of credit, but who really cared. The point was, we didn’t get it.

Chapter Forty

It was the day of Taylor’s bridal shower. I kept thinking of it as her shower because she and her mom were the ones who were throwing it. The invitations they sent out were nicer than my actual wedding invitations.

There were already a bunch of cars parked in front of the house. I recognized Marcy Yoo’s silver Audi and Taylor’s aunt Mindy’s blue Honda. Taylor’s mailbox had white balloons strung on it. It reminded me of every birthday party Taylor had ever had. She always had hot pink balloons. Always.

I was wearing a white sundress and sandals. I’d put on mascara and blush and pink lip gloss. When I’d left the Cousins house, Conrad said I looked nice. It was the first time we’d spoken since the day we stopped for peaches.

He said, You look nice, and I said thanks. Totally normal.

I rang the doorbell, something I never did at Taylor’s house. But since it was a party, I figured I should.

Taylor answered the door. She was wearing a pink dress with light green fish swimming along the hem, and she’d done her hair halfway up. She looked like she should be the bride, not me. “You look pretty,” she said, hugging me.

“So do you,” I said, stepping inside.

“Almost everybody’s here,” she said, leading me to the living room.

“I’m just gonna go pee first,” I said.

“Hurry, you’re the guest of honor.”

I used the bathroom quickly, and after I washed my hands, I tried to brush my hair with my fingers. I put a little more lip gloss on. For some reason, I felt nervous.

Taylor had hung crepe-paper wedding bells from the ceiling, and “Going to the Chapel” was playing on the stereo.

There were our friends Marcy and Blair and Katie, Taylor’s Aunt Mindy, my next door-neighbor Mrs. Evans, Taylor’s mom Lucinda. And sitting next to her, on the loveseat, wearing a light blue suit, was my mother.

My eyes filled when I saw her.

We didn’t run across the room to embrace, we didn’t weep. I made my way around the room, hugging women and girls, and when I finally reached my mother, we hugged tightly and for a long time. We didn’t have to say anything, because we both knew.

At the buffet table, Taylor squeezed my hand. “Happy?”

she whispered.

“So happy,” I whispered back, picking up a plate. I felt such immense relief. Everything was really working out.

I had my mom back. This was really happening.

“Good,” Taylor said.

“How did this even happen? Did your mom talk to my mom?”

“Mm-hmm,” she said, and she blew me a little kiss. “My mom said it wasn’t even hard to convince her to come.”

Lucinda had set up the table with her famous white coconut cake as the centerpiece. There was sparkling lemonade, pigs in a blanket, baby carrots, and onion dip—

all my favorite foods. My mom had brought her lemon squares.

I filled my plate with food and sat next to the girls.

Popping a pig in a blanket in my mouth, I said, “Thank you guys so much for coming!”

“I can’t believe you’re getting married,” Marcy said.

“Me either,” Blair said.

“Me either,” I said.

Opening presents was the best part. It felt like my birthday. Cupcake tins from Marcy, drinking glasses from Blair, hand towels from Aunt Mindy, cookbooks from Lucinda, a glass pitcher from Taylor, a down comforter from my mother.