Page 11

“Fuck.”

I can’t do this. I can’t. I want to… but I just can’t.

As if the universe sensed I was about to bail on this whole insane plan, my phone lights up with an incoming FaceTime call just as I turn the key in the ignition again, ready to make the long drive back to New York. There’s only one person on earth who ignores my no-FaceTime rule, and that’s Cathie.

I lean back in my seat and press answer, after propping my phone against the center console so she can see most of my face.

“Hi, gorgeous!” she chirps, flashing a bright smile. “You made it there yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Really? Didn’t you leave New York like at the crack of dawn?”

“Seven in the morning isn’t that early.”

“On a Saturday? You bet your ass it is,” she laughs, but then leans closer to the screen, as if it will help her see more of my surroundings. “Wait… where are you right now?”

“I’m in my car.”

“I can see that, Max.” She groans. “I mean, where are you parked? Are you at a gas station or something?”

“Not really.”

“I’m going to need more than that. Where are you?”

I let out an audible exhale, grab my phone, and climb out of the car. “Let me show you.” I stand in front of the hood and turn the camera around, revealing the entrance to Fairhope, welcome sign and all.

“Dear Lord,” she whistles. “Is it always that dark? I can barely see anything.”

“It’s the fog from the mountains and the lake. They do weird things to the weather around here. Sometimes you get all four seasons in a single day. When the weather turns like this, though, the fog can hang around all day. At least it’s not raining. Yet.”

“And here I thought New England was all pretty foliage and postcard views. It’s giving depressing vibes with a side of creepy. No wonder you never wanted to go back.” She wrinkles her nose in distaste. “I really hope this works, but if your little stint there doesn’t pan out, you can always come stay with me in Florida for a while. A few days spent drinking margaritas poolside will get those creative juices flowing again in no time. At least we have sunshine.”

I wish getting my words back was that simple. So far it hasn’t been. And I’ve tried everything.

Even though I hated leaving the house, I went on various week-long vacations and even weekend trips out of the city just to see if a change in scenery would get me out of my funk. It didn’t.

I’ve never liked to drink, but I even tried getting drunk on vodka just to see if it would get me out of my own head. Didn’t work either.

And as a last-ditch effort, Erin sent me a stash of her edibles to see if they’d relax me enough to get some words down. And the result was the same. Nothing. Nada. Niente. Nichts.

Fairhope is not only a long shot—it might as well be my last shot.

“So… are you going in or not?”

“Honestly? I haven’t decided yet.” I shrug, leaning against the hood of my car, while staring toward the town I’ve spent the last decade avoiding like the plague.

“Yeah, you have.” She smiles knowingly. “Otherwise, you would have never gotten into that car this morning.”

“Maybe all I needed was a road trip, and I’m cured.”

A flicker of sympathy crosses her face just as her happy-go-lucky smile fades. “You know it doesn’t work that way, babe.”

I look up at the sky and let out a breath. “Adulting is hard.”

Cathie laughs. “Preaching to the choir, sister.”

I turn my attention back to the screen and offer her a small smile. “So… this call. Was it just to see how I was doing, or were you checking up on me?”