“That’s really nice of you. What’d you think?” I ask Rhett.

“I don’t really like theater, but Reagan’s part was cool.”

“Maybe you could leave out the first part when you see her,” I tell him as I spot her. “She’s over there. Come on.”

40

HEATH

After having a beer with some of the guys on the team at The Hideout, I head back to the apartment. My latest care package from Nathan and Chloe is waiting for me and I open it (definitely Chloe put this one together—it’s covered in gold tissue paper) and call my brother.

“Thank Chloe for the package.” I lie down on my bed and stare up at the ceiling.

“You can thank her yourself in three weeks. We’re flying up to watch you play the weekend before Christmas.”

“For real?” I ask and sit up.

“Yeah, Mom too. She didn’t tell you?”

“Uh…”

“You haven’t talked to her, have you?”

“She’s my next call.” I pull the phone away from my ear and look at the time. “Or tomorrow, maybe, it’s kind of late there.”

“She’ll be up. You know what a night owl she is. Call her.”

“I will, I will,” I say begrudgingly.

“I get it,” he says. “Trust me, I do. I did the same thing. I got to Valley and tried to live like the past hadn’t happened. I barely talked to you or Mom my first two years of college.”

“I know, I remember.” I’d been sad at first and then pissed. Dad died, then Nathan left, Mom got worse, and before I knew it, everything had changed except me.

“She’s trying. I know it doesn’t magically make up for everything, but you can’t be pissed at her forever if you really want to move on.”

“I’m not pissed,” I say and then backtrack. “Okay, maybe a little pissed.”

“If it helps, the more I talk to her now, the easier it gets and the less I find myself thinking about the past.”

“Yeah, all right.”

“Well, I’ve gotta get to bed. We’re flying to New York early tomorrow, but I’m really excited to see you in a few weeks. Also, Chloe started Christmas shopping two months ago, so be prepared—her level of excitement is intense.”

“Can’t wait,” I say honestly. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a holiday together or really any time together.

After we hang up, I call Mom, but she doesn’t answer, so I shoot her a text and then change into sweats.

She returns my call as I fall back on my bed. “Hey, sorry I missed your call, my hands were covered in cookie dough. I’m doing some late-night baking.”

“No problem. I’m about to head to bed.”