Handful by C.R. Grissom
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Everest
Kirsty isn’t pregnant. I’m still processing what happened between us two months later. The scare, the reveal, and the aftermath.
The scare: thinking Kirsty was losing the baby. The reveal: understanding the anti-anxiety meds caused the false-positive test. The aftermath: the absolute knowledge she loves me and I love her, and not because she might have carried our child.
We’re extra careful about contraception. The thought of just how careful makes me grimace, but also grin. We’ll probably relax our vigilance one day or maybe not. Nothing like a pregnancy scare to make absolutely sure you’re covered, so to speak.
Kirsty had been conditioned to believe love meant subverting her plans and goals. To be fair, her attitude toward solid and meaningful relationships had been skewed by a granny warped by bitterness and a need to control her granddaughter.
I met her parents via FaceTime. Her dad gave me a hard-eyed stare until Kirsty told him to knock it off and that it was his fault we fell in love. Durnin forever love, she called it.
I get a kick out of her family fairy tale, and at the same time, I hope like hell it’s true.
I got a text from Shane yesterday. It was a picture taken on the beach in Lincoln City, Oregon. He wrote: I might stay here.
I answered: Keep in touch.
I meant it. I hope he does. We’re brothers. Shane has five half sisters if he decides he wants a family.
His ball, his choice.
Today I’m making my pitch to Mr. Lacerna about Golden, the program I wrote for my project. I got full marks for my idea and the simplified app I’d coded for my professor. I’ve been working on refining the more complicated aspects of the app in my free time.
I’m ready for the show-and-tell at Mr. Lacerna’s office. He made it more official by inviting me to present my app at his company rather than at his home. All morning long my heart has hit my ribs like an offensive lineman ramming the sleds during a particularly grueling practice.
I straighten the knot in my tie and check myself in the bathroom mirror. Presentable, if not fully polished.
Kirsty makes an ‘mmm’ sound deep in her throat when I step into my bedroom. “Damn, you look good enough to bite.”
“Ha.” I lean down to press a kiss to her smiling mouth. “Not the look I’m going for—I’d hoped for professional.”
“That too,” she agrees. “I’m proud of you. Your app will make a difference. The depth of your vision astounds me. You’re going to knock him off his feet.”
Her absolute faith in me helps calm my erratic pulse. “That’s the general idea,” I manage, forcing my lips into a grin.
“Call me the second you leave the building.”
“I will.” I reach for the charcoal-gray messenger bag Kirsty bought me for this presentation. For luck, she’d said. I slide my laptop inside and buckle the center strap. I let out a breath.
“Break a leg,” she advises abandoning her laptop and jumping from the bed to wrap her arms around my torso.
“That’s only for theatrical performances.”
She smirks at me and her dimple winks. “What’s a pitch if not a theatrical performance?”
My heart hammers for a different reason—her damn dimple—and she may have a point about pitches and performances. I slide my wallet into my back pocket and grab my keys. “I’ve gotta go. I don’t want to be late.”
“You won’t be. You’re going to nail your presentation. I plan on finishing at least two assignments while you’re gone, then we’ll celebrate, and I’ll get back to work.”
My guts wrench. There’s so much riding on this. My future. Maybe our future. Kirsty has been working hard to make up assignments after her trip home. She might fail a few classes, but she’s doggedly moving forward regardless, determined to redeem what can be saved this semester. “Tacos and guacamole on me if we celebrate. On you, if I mess up.”
“You won’t. You’re going to rule the world someday. Go.” She makes a shooing motion toward me. “Take your first step toward world domination.” She laughs.
This is one step of many toward my career. I shoot her a grin I don’t have to force and head toward my destiny.
*
A weird sortof calm envelops me while I present Golden to Mr. Lacerna. He reserved a conference room for our meeting. The room accommodates up to twenty people, but it’s just the two of us. The view of the high-rises that surround this building in downtown San Jose shine bright in the midday sun from the floor-to-ceiling windows. Mr. Lacerna sits at the far end of the long table while I run the demo and explain the different components of the app.
His face had been polite with interest while I previewed the puzzles and historic trivia portions. I’m not sure if he’s pretending interest for Faith’s sake or not. I reach the part in my presentation where I talk about my vision for discounts through participation and the health component based on smart device tracking movement, and he sits straighter in his chair. Still poker-faced, but alert.
“If we partner with companies like AARP, we can offer better discounts to users by combining resources to expand memberships. Also, companies focused on health-based, smart devices could also partner with development by providing hardware for testing and reliability.”
Advancing to the next slide I continue, “From my experience, senior citizens are competitive and love a good discount. They can form pods with their friends and issue challenges either through the exercise component or any of the other memory programs.”
I take a breath. “Any exercise challenges issued between friends will adjust to properly handicap individuals based on medical needs. For example, it wouldn’t be fair for someone who can walk a few miles each day to challenge someone who might not be able to walk a few blocks.”
He points a finger at me. “This is a great premise, but how much have you coded?”
“About forty percent. I want to take what I have into the retirement community to get feedback from my target audience.” I think about Grams and Agnes being test subjects and I have to control my smile. “I’d like to get real-time opinions on my ideas and whether they’re solid.”
He nods. “What you have is significant. I’d like to bring you back in to do another presentation to a larger audience here.”
“Yes, sir. I’d be thrilled to come back.”
“Excellent.” He stands signaling the end of our meeting.
I close my laptop and disconnect the adapter connecting my laptop to the large flat screen used for presentations. I slide my laptop into the messenger bag and make my way down to Mr. Lacerna. I stick out my right hand to shake his. “Thank you for the opportunity, sir.”
He smiles. “I was about to say the same to you.”
*
Kirsty
SEVEN MONTHS LATER…
Spending Fourth ofJuly on Capitola Beach might just be the best kind of perfect. We’ve mostly thwarted the seagulls’ brazen efforts to steal food sometimes right out of our hands. Sneaky bastards.
Faith and Phoebe sit on either side of me.
A regiment of Gladiators playing volleyball provide a visual feast for the eyes. Crikey runs up to our spot wearing a wetsuit and carrying his surfboard. He drops to the sand beside us.
“G-day, ’ow ya goin’?”
His Aussie accent is sexy enough to make anyone drool. He pulls off his wetsuit, preparing to join the game in progress before us.
“Couldn’t be better.” My gaze lands on the mountain I call my own. His hair has lightened to a coppery gold in the summer sun. His muscles flex as he spikes the ball over the net. I can watch Everest all day and all night long.
Faith leans against me. “Back in high school we would never have dreamed this would be our reality.”
I laugh. “It’s almost absurd how much our lives have changed.”
“If this is a dream,” Phoebe says. “Don’t you dare wake me up.”
We clink our red SOLO cups in solidarity.
The month of July has special meaning for me this year. I would have delivered my fictional baby this month. The day I found out I’d never been pregnant became etched in my memory.
Everest didn’t tease me. He took me back to his place and let me fall apart. He held me, repeatedly told me he loved me, and waited while I put myself back together.
False alarm.Funny how much those two freaking lines changed me. Not permanently, because no baby, but it left an indelible mark on me anyway. In a little more than a week, I’d nearly lost my baby brother, and had been forced to decide between having a child and the alternative.
Falling apart was necessary, so was fitting the pieces back together again.
Given Mom’s history, I might not get a chance to have my own child anyway. And that’s okay, because I’ve come to realize there’s an alternative for that, too.
Life is not black and white; it’s filled with grays, blues, all manner of color, and alternatives.
I’d acted based on that false positive. I’d confronted Mom about being her college mistake. I’ve embraced Durnin forever love and I know without a doubt the mountain loves me back.
I’ve come to terms with failing two classes my first semester—managed to get excellent grades the following semester—and ultimately found balance in my life. All due to those two little lines. I’d never have thought they’d hold such power on both sides: positive and negative.
Collin healed from his accident. He missed most of his kindergarten year, but tutors helped him catch up via virtual learning. He has no lasting brain damage. He’s doing well with his PT, and he’s going to be fine.
Everest plucks me from my blanket and runs with me toward the ice-cold water of the Pacific Ocean. “Don’t you dare throw me in.” I try to sound stern, but laugh instead.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says right before sitting down in the waves with me.
I squeal at the cold.
“It’s better once you’re numb,” he says, laughter in his voice.
I suppose that’s true for most things.
In our case, I’m damn lucky I get all the feels.
The End.
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