Page 33 of Five Things I See in You

A photo from a hospital room. Mireya is in bed, exhausted but beaming. Her newborn daughter rests in her arms, one tiny fist curled against the hospital gown, with Hades sitting beside them. They’ve draped an Aura Valley scarf over the baby for the photo, not an Emeralds one. I wonder what Drummond will think of that.

“She’s so cute,” Jordan sighs, leaning in to kiss me.

Chapter 21

Jordan

Since her conversation with her father, Noa has been doing so much better in every way. She sleeps well and plays better. Strangest of all, she even talks to him more now that she’s made her boundaries clear. I watch her from the stands, with Mireya beside me, cheering louder than anyone because she’s left the baby with Grandma.

What I haven’t told Noa yet is that my appointment book in Capitol Hill still has too many empty slots. Or that I’m running out of savings. Or that I miss being part of this team and everything that came with it. Traveling with the girls. Thursday sessions with Iris that weren’t therapy but did her a lot of good. Giving Jade advice. Even Drummond’s lectures about how every player had to perform at her best.

I can’t say I regret resigning. I still believe I did the right thing. But it hurts. Just as much as if I did regret it.

That afternoon, before Noa gets home, I open the bottom kitchen drawer. The folder has grown a little thicker. Two certified letters now instead of one. And a date underlined in red: the day I’m due to give my statement.

That night, while I’m setting the table, I can’t keep it to myself any longer.

“The practice in Capitol Hill isn’t working out,” I admit. “I’m running out of savings, and…”

“I make more than enough for both of us,” she interrupts.

“No!”

“We’ll open a joint account. Problem solved, Jordan.”

“I’ve been supporting myself since I was sixteen. I’m not going to let you start paying my way now.”

I know she means well. Her bank balance wouldn’t even notice my expenses. But that’s exactly what I don’t want.

A knock interrupts us.

I open the door without checking the peephole. Only one person in my life knocks like that: two short knocks, then a long one.

Beth stands in the doorway with a travel bag over her shoulder and her hair shorter than the last time I saw her.

She drops her bag by the door, walks past me, and hugs Noa as if they’ve known each other forever.

“So you scored today,” she says, holding Noa by the arms for a moment to look at her before hugging her again. “My cab driver told me all about it. He even talked me through the goal.”

She sits down with us, and I have to get another plate. That’s my sister. She comes and goes without warning. I suppose we’ve turned out fairly normal, considering the mother we had. She tells us she’s finally found a good foster home for the little boy she’s grown so fond of, then complains about her partner never taking out the trash and leaving towels on the bathroom floor.

“My hotel’s ten minutes away,” she says when we offer her the couch. “I’d rather not interrupt whatever you two get up to at night.” She raises her eyebrows. “Breakfast tomorrow. All three of us. My treat, since I’m the one visiting.”

Later, in the nearly dark kitchen, I finish the conversation my sister interrupted.

“I want to be financially independent,” I say, taking off my glasses to clean them with a cloth. “It’s not that I don’t think we’re going to last. I just want to pay my own bills. That’s all.”

“I know.”

“Noa, paying my bills would mean nothing to you. Being able to pay them myself means everything to me,” I admit, wiping away a tear. “And I miss the Emeralds.”

Noa doesn’t try to cheer me up or give me advice. She sits on the counter facing me, her feet dangling, and lets me finish.

“Do you regret it?” she asks at last.

“No. I don’t regret it. It meant I could be with you.”

“But you gave up so much. Please don’t think I don’t appreciate that.”