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“Yeah?” I chew on my thumbnail as Josh tucks the shell in his pocket. “I guess it caught me a little off guard that, um...she doesn’t know I’m a Synth.” I know she disapproves of the show. But even if she avoided the teaser trailers and the buzz, I’d assumed Josh would talk to her about it up front.
“Yeah, I should have warned you, I guess.” Josh seems sheepish. We keep walking, skirting dark piles of seaweed. “She’s a good person, Julia, truly. But...this is all new to her, you know? She already thinks the show is morally questionable. If she knew you were a Synth? She might not have agreed to meet you at all. I thought it would be best if she got to know you as a person first. And then, once she really likes you, we can break it to her. She’s a super loyal person, so once she decides to love someone, she’s all in. It’s just a timing thing. Does that make sense?”
“She might find out anyway, online, or on TV, or—” I chew on my upper lip. “Won’t she feel...betrayed? If we don’t tell her ourselves?”
“We will tell her ourselves, Julia. I’m telling you, the timing isn’t right. This is my mom. Trust me.”
“Of course. Yes. Totally,” I say. I still wish we’d talked about this first. But now is not the time for recriminations. I lick my lips and taste salt.
We walk in silence for another minute, then naturally come to a stop, facing the waves and the shreds of sunset, orange and pink tatters floating on the horizon like a ripped-up ball gown. Reminding me the day is almost done; it’s time to say my last words.
“Obviously your life is going to look different depending on who you choose,” I say as the wind blows my hair back. “I guess I’m wondering what you imagine when you picture marrying me. If it’s really different when you think about Camila. And...if you have any last concerns.”
I’m kind of glad we’re facing the ocean right now and not each other, because if I had to look into his eyes, I might cry.
Josh rubs the back of his neck. “I mean, my life with Cam would be...fun. She’s feisty, she keeps me on my toes. I think she’d be a great mom, obviously—if not, she wouldn’t be here. I imagine a lot of laughter. She has a big family, lots of aunts and uncles and cousins. I can see big, crazy Christmases.”
I nod, trying to stay dispassionate, even though hearing the good things about Cam feels like being cut to ribbons. Of course he would want all these things. It kills me that it’s not in my power to offer them, too.
“But with you,” Josh continues, his tone warming, “I see myself relishing the simple everyday stuff. I also see you being a great mom. You’re really nurturing. Really positive and calm and...kind. You make me want to be a better person, and that’s really cool. With you, I see...safety. You’d love me for who I am, which weirdly is what makes me want to be better, and that’s hard to say no to.”
I nod, throat tight. The big, crazy Christmases do sound fun, damn it. Ugh. I have no idea who he’s going to pick—or who I’d pick, in his shoes. Maybe it does come down to what Cam said, before Paris. Is he more interested in the actual or the aspirational? Who he is now, or who he wants to be?
Or maybe it’ll come down to hair color, hah.
The waves tease our toes as we look out at the ocean. I hold on tight to his hand because this may be the last chance I have.
I think about my journey to this moment, from waking up with that glow of anticipation to my dramatic speech during the first rose ceremony, through dates and eliminations and travel and laughter, all the way to now, standing in this silence and stillness on the precipice of Josh’s decision, the waves reminding me that, whatever he decides, life will continue on the other side.
I have to face a scary reality: that I was made for Josh, but Josh was not made for me. Josh exists for himself, and he’s going to do what he wants, and there’s nothing I can do about it save what I’ve already done.
The waves roll and roll. Is this what water was made to do? Is it satisfied, lapping and retreating, kissing the shore before pulling back? I suppose it doesn’t matter if it’s satisfied. It is what it is, and the waves will still be here long after Josh and I are gone.
NOW
I’ve blown through Tenderloin before I realize my tank is almost empty. My next chance for gas is the TripMax in Eauverte; I pull in just as a flurry of rain releases. The gas station is right outside town, with cornfields behind. A little farther and this road becomes Main Street, with its bar and its church, the old comic book store and the bicycle repair shop, two tired beacons in a stretch of otherwise empty storefronts.
No one else is at the TripMax at four o’clock on a Friday evening, and I’m grateful. I’m not ready to see people, not ready to be seen—like my encounter with Deborah left some kind of grime on me that people will be able to see, to smell.
It was still worth it, though, no matter how shaken I am, because I learned one thing: she didn’t kill Josh.
I lock the gas pump in place and lean against the car as it fills.
It wasn’t just Deborah’s limitations that convinced me—no car, no cell phone—or even her watch history on Netflix. It was her adoration of Josh. Warped, but steely strong. It’s an adoration that some deep part of me recognizes, because I feel it toward Annaleigh. Call it a mother’s intuition, but Deborah Reeves would not kill the angel she built a shrine for. She may still be a personal threat to me, but what else is new? She’s been here all along, just fifteen minutes away. And if she hasn’t killed me yet...
You killed him for the bad things he did. My eyes zone out on the mounting dollars on the pump’s digital display. What did that mean? Could she have been on our property, skulking in the woods...could she have seen...
No. She’s insane. Don’t overthink it.
A knot of pain in my left breast reminds me I haven’t been pumping enough. Is it a plugged duct? If I’m not careful, I could give myself mastitis, which is the last thing I need.
The gas keeps chugging. The gallons and dollars keep counting. The wind blows a thin mist of rain against my face. I lose my gaze in the cornfields, green and peaceful.
What might have been different if, instead of moving down here, Josh and I moved to Indianapolis like we planned? I remember my excitement when Josh took us around Indy during The Proposal filming. The city felt like just the right size for us. Big, but not too big. Midwestern-friendly with just enough of a cosmopolitan edge. I allowed myself to imagine, during that trip, that I could find a place for myself there. A favorite bookstore to haunt. A local bakery. I imagined meeting mom-friends at the park near Josh’s condo, once we had kids.
Whereas the first time I set eyes on Eauverte, I had to turn on my brave face.
It’ll just be until Mom gets better, Josh said.
