KATHERINE

"Are you sure this posting looks credible, Betsy?" I asked, giving her a wry look.

Betsy inspected her handiwork, then decidedly lowered the whole thing a half-inch.

I frowned.

She lowered the poster a bit more.

"To the right now," I added.

She obliged, a frown creasing her porcelain face.

"And a little bit higher . . ."

She speared the tack through the paper and dropped her arms. "Are you done stalling or can we get going to drop you off at the airport?"

"I guess so, but—"

Betsy didn't let me finish.

She pushed me out the door, into the blinding sunlight, and to the car, where Rick waved from the driver's seat.

"Ready, Kat?" he asked, flashing me a smile as I hopped in the backseat.

I chewed my lip as the car shifted into gear. "Are you sure everything is going to be okay? My mother—"

"Will be well taken care of."

"And the apartment, the landlord—"

"Already knows we're subletting it and can't evict," Betsy finished yet again. "Now, your mother's house is going to be fine, too. Rick did the math, remember? You'll have enough this way."

"Barring any extraordinary medical complications . . ."

Betsy frowned. "You won't have to worry about that, Kat. I promise your mother will be fine."

She reached over the back of her seat to grasp my hand.

"Six months and you're free," she said, giving me a weak smile, "don't forget that.

"Six months," I repeated.

It had become our mantra in the past few days of packing. Mom's house was full to the brim with not only her crap but mine as well. Hopefully, by some miracle she would wake up fine, but the doctor had said that would be less and less likely.

"I'll call you if anything comes up, okay?" Betsy squeezed my hand.

"And I know we haven't discussed this," added Rick, "but if she wakes up before the six months are out, there's no question she'll be staying with me and Betsy."

Hot tears pricked my eyes, and a lump welled up in my throat. Truth be told, to hear that, it made me feel an overwhelming crash of relief.

Turning onto the highway saved me the pressure of having to find the words to express my gratitude, so I tried to relax into the backseat.

Cars flew by in flashes of silver, red, and black, racing on the open road to nowhere, the trees closing in around the asphalt winding over hills and bends. Betsy hummed an off-key tune to herself, seemingly made up with Rick as their hands chased each other across the dashboard.

The world disappeared around this metal shell of serenity and for the thirty minute ride to the airport, I was saved the crushing reality of recognizing what my life will become.

At last, when I stepped out into the terminal, I couldn't help but glance back at a supportive Betsy and her outwardly faithful husband. To anyone else, and even to me at that moment, they seemed the perfect couple, but under those beautiful smiles were the band-aids plastered over abysmal cracks in their foundation.

I turned away with a wave, hiding the image from my mind, trying to hold onto how they once were on the surface: happy, loving, carefree. Then, shouldering my bag with a smile I knew would convince no one, I walked into the airport.

* * * 

This plane ride was far less unbearable than the one I'd suffered through just the week before. The mac and cheese stuck to the roof of my mouth but slid down after a draught of Diet Coke, and at least the single mother next to me had the wherewithal to force-feed her child a Benadryl before he woke the whole plane in a tantrum.

We weren't, however, spared a tantrum on the way off the plane. The demon-child screamed bloody murder all the way to the baggage carousel, and after that, all the way to the arrivals gate, where his anger reached a fever pitch when he caught sight of the donuts glistening on the shelves of a convenience store.

I caught sight of Erland by a pillar next to Dunkin Donuts. Beside him stood no one other than Nick. My heart began to drum in my ears and I knew that if he looked at me just then I would be beet red. It was hard not to remember the last thing I said to him, and it was hard to believe he was here despite it. We hadn't spoken all week since Erland arrived, except through perfectly cordial text messages.

Grateful for the cool AC, I prayed it would dim the rose raging across my cheeks as I neared my brother and my ex-fiancé.

When my little brother caught sight of me, he cracked a mischievous grin.

"You look less than happy, Kat," he said. "Rough flight?"

I stuck my tongue out at him, then pulled him into a hug. "How's it going, kid?" I asked, glancing at Nick even as I asked Erland. I couldn't help but frown.

"Don't mind him," Erland said, pulling me a little ways away, "he's on the phone. Has been since early afternoon. I don't know who he's talking to, but they're giving him one hell of a time."

I cracked a wry smile. "Does it seem well-deserved?"

Erland gave Nick a sideways glance. "He's more than earned it," he said.

Nick, as if picking up on what we were talking about, pulled the phone from his ear. "Sorry, Katherine," he said, "it's work. I'll be done in a few minutes." Then he seemed to meet Erland's gaze for a second before pressing the phone once more to his ear. "Listen, Leya, don't argue with me on this because you won't win. . ." His voice trailed out of earshot as Nick walked a few paces away.

I nodded towards him. "Any idea what that's all about, Erland?"

Erland glanced at Nick, then at the ground, then at me, meeting my gaze only briefly before saying, "Something to do with a department chair in his job."

I crossed my arms, wary still. "Any idea where he works?"

Erland shook his head.

"You didn't pick up on anything all week?" I raised an eyebrow. "I always pegged you as my nosey little brother, what has Alabama done to you?"

Erland shrugged, looking uncomfortable once again. "Nothing, Katherine. He just doesn't talk to me about work, is all."

I stared at my brother before deciding to let the subject drop. I could look it up if I wanted to but I doubted Nick's job was the worst thing he would be hiding. Erland, however, seemed to know something that was going on. Regardless, I would make sure to find out what it was eventually. After, of course, a good aromatic bath.

"Any idea where the nearest hotel is from here?"

Erland gave me a look. "Hotel?"

"And where's your bag?"

"At Nick's place?" he said slowly, not seeming to comprehend what I was getting at.

I groaned. "Erland, I told you we would be staying at a hotel once I arrived. Then we'd move in with Matthew next week—the friend of mine I told you about—to save on rent while we find a place. Why didn't you pack?"

"I heard about your planned stay at a motel, Katherine, but if you have to get mad at anyone, get mad at me," said Nick, approaching us as he slipped his phone away. "I told Erland the both of you could stay with me for the week."

I glared at him. "I already have reservations, Nicolas."

"And you can cancel them and get back some of your money," Nick replied curtly. "Don't spend any more than you have to. And," he added, anticipating my protests, "if you're worried it'll be awkward, I won't be in the house much anyway."

I felt my guard fall somewhat, but I was still wary. "What about Victoria? Where's she?"

"Up north," Erland replied. "She's doing some design work all of next week."

Hearing that calmed me somewhat. At least I wouldn't have to see Victoria around, and I would only have to tolerate Nick half the time.

I glared at him before, at last, softening. It really wasn't the most terrible solution. And I could save whatever money I could get from a refund of the reservation. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense. Thinking only logically, of course.

I looked to Nick and held out my hand.

"One week," I said.

"One week," he repeated, clasping my hand in his.

Erland's face lit up in a grin.

"It's a deal."