CH. 43

Once upon a time, words like "fitting in" and "compromise" had been glued to Willa's vocabulary, so ingrained that her default setting was always geared toward the path of least resistance. Names like Maryam and Cyn had been mantras keeping her steady, keeping her afloat. Their friendship and approval had buoyed her, but had also been the anchor pulling her down.

Now, one year after Jackie's phone call, her life was filled with other words. Book tours, interviews, tweets.

"Willa," her mother said fretfully, "This doesn't look like enough stuff."

"Nonsense, Lila." Her dad appeared in the doorway of Willa's bedroom. He folded his arms across his chest and gave Willa an encouraging smile. "Let her pack what she wants."

"But—" Lila rifled through the top of Willa's suitcase as though she was trying to count pairs of underwear.

"Mom, it's fine!" From her stomach-down position curled around a body pillow, Willa scrambled to her knees, waddling herself to the foot of the bed where her mother was sifting through her carry-on. "Leave it."

"How on earth is it possible," Lila Grainger demanded, "that in a house—in a closet—with this much stuff, you find a way to pack the fewest possible items possible for your book tour?"

Willa made a face, ignoring her mother's mutinous murmur of it'll stay that way. Promotion was important for a debut author and so when her publisher had decided to send her on a book tour, it never occurred to Willa to say no.

When Jackie had first told her, the only thing running through her mind was Wow, they have so much faith in the story. But as her departure date grew closer, the primary thought became Shit, what if no one shows up?

As an introvert-n-proud kind of gal, the idea of public speaking both fascinated and horrified her. Talking about herself and her book? Awesome. Doing so while making charming and witty small talk with a full house of people? Not so awesome. Especially if she had to make eye contact while doing it.

She glanced from her mother's anxious face to the spartan belongings in her suitcase. Navy halter dress, paisley-print shorts, skinny jeans, white crop top, yellow cardigan, Marvel Comics tee, and a black lace tunic top. Five pairs of underwear, three bras, and a pair of ballet flats snuggled next to her toiletries and hair straightener.

"At least take these," her mother said, feverishly pulling things from hangers.

"Mom!" Willa complained, watching her overwrought mother demolish her color-coordinated closet with single-handed determination.

A chiffon blouse and Aztec-print tank top made their way into Willa's bag, followed by a red gingham tunic and a softer-than-butter chambray boyfriend shirt.

"You'll need these," Lila insisted, smoothing down the clothing before zipping the bag. "Ten cities in fifteen days? People will talk if you repeat your outfits!"

"I'm not Beyoncé," said Willa, exchanging a fond but exasperated smile with her father. "I'm pretty sure I won't make any headlines by wearing the same top twice."

"Take another bra, at least," Lila said.

Willa closed her eyes. How embarrassing.

Her dad must have the same way because he excused himself under the pretext of unplugging Willa's phone from its charger so she had all her electronics TSA-ready.

Paying only half-attention to her mother's fussing, Willa flopped back onto her bed. Her thoughts drifted, for once, not to her upcoming hellshow, but to Nate. Since she and Nate had broken up, she'd spent most of her time getting her life in order. She'd deleted the Tinder app from her phone, done a thorough house-cleaning of her life and donated or threw away anything that didn't make her feel good about herself.

She'd revised her novel according to her editor's exacting demands, she'd fought for the book cover she liked best (only to be ignored by her publisher), and she'd started working on a second story.

She wondered where he was, what he was doing. Was he writing a second book, too? Was he dating someone new? It occurred to her that she could just go back to Tinder and see whether he'd reactivated his account, but she'd rather not know anything about him than know something only because she'd stalked him on the Internet.

"Willa, ten minutes!" her mother barked, tapping the face of her watch with a meaningful look. "Don't lollygag."

Willa struggled to an upright position, resisting the urge to just curl up under her comforter and create a make-believe world in the darkness of frayed threads and an overactive imagination. One year was a long time to still be under him instead of over him. But just like her friends, Nate was someone who would always be engraved on her heart. She would never not wonder about him.

That was part of relationships. Sometimes you left first, sometimes they did. But either way, you took something with you of them and you gave up some part of yourself in return.

The doorbell rang, startling her. "I'll get it!" she called out, even though from the dead silence in the rest of her house, she could tell that neither of her parents had any intention of going to the door.

When she swung it open, she was surprised to see the mailman himself. "It didn't all fit in your mailbox," he said with a wry grin, hugging a stack of envelopes and packages against his chest. "Here ya go."

"Uh, thanks." Confused, Willa accepted, hefting the weight in her hands. "Bye, thanks again."

"It's not your birthday today or something, is it?"

She grinned. "I wish." With a final wave, she shut the door.

She headed to her kitchen, where her parents were sitting with cups of coffee. She dumped her small mountain of loot on the table, aware of her parents' baffled looks.

"Willa," Forrest Grainger said, picking up an envelope, "What is all this?"

"Fan mail!" Lila Grainger exclaimed.

"Not." Willa scrunched her nose. "Bills. Oh, and I think those are some books Jackie wants me to read and provide quotes for."

"Quotes?"

"You know, endorsements. Those pithy little witticisms that go on the book cover."

Lila beamed. "You're famous."

Willa flushed, partly from pride, partly from parental embarrassment. "I'm not famous," she corrected, but she grinned while saying it.

"She's our little debut darling, though," her father said, ruffling her hair.

"Dad."

"What's this?" Lila picked up a flat envelope, the kind that always had a layer of protective bubblewrap inside. "It has Nate's return address," she said in a hushed whisper, passing the package to Willa with a reverent stare.

"Nate?" Confused, Willa began to tear it open, but her mother stopped her. "Take it with you. We don't have time."

"I'll grab your bag," her father said, taking both empty cups and putting them in the sink.

"Don't worry about washing up," said Lila. She leaned over to pat Willa's hand. "We'll come back after we drop you off and rinse those up. We'll take care of the bills, too."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Now, go pee before you leave. You can't always count on a clean airport bathroom."

"Mom!" Willa groaned. "I'm way too old for you to remind me to relieve myself."

"I'm your mother. You're never too old."

Author's Note: What do you think Nate sent her? And aw, Willa's parents are back again :) We're in the last few chapters before this story concludes and it's with a motherly love that I post this chapter, sending my baby out into the world. This was my Nanowrimo project and it feels like just yesterday that I sat down to write the first chapter. I almost feel like I've grown up with Willa, even though our paths have been so different. I hope you guys feel like you've grown up a little with her, too. :)