What the hell is that buzzing?

It’s part of my dream. Or is it part of the real world? And has it been happening for minutes or hours?

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Three little buzzes, then a pause. Then three more little buzzes. Sometimes the pause is a bit longer.

The dream phone I had in my hands—the one that I couldn’t figure out how to shut off because the buttons kept changing places every time I’d look at it—dissolves. I have a fistful of comforter and the bed is empty. 

Josie. Where’s Josie?

I roll over onto my back and stretch. Last night was intense. So fucking intense that I’m not sure how to follow it up in the light of day. And it is day. We’re past the early rays of dawn and into the full swing of regular morning. Did she go to get us food? Or coffee? I strain my ears to listen for the elevator, but I don’t hear the soft ding that announces its presence on the floor. 

I wander over to the balcony, muscles protesting. She’s not there, either.

There’s another soft chime in the suite. I haven’t checked my messages in quite a while. Not since before dinner last night.

I don’t want to check them.

I’ve been doing this for so long that checking in, always checking in, always solving the problems that arise, always smoothing over the rough patches, is just what I do. Why resent the fact that everything rests on my shoulders when it seems like it’s always been that way? It’s good, in a way, that I was there when things went south. That I could take over for my idiot father instead of letting the family name fall into disgrace. Julia and Ellie weren’t even in college yet, and to deprive them of a college experience and a place in the family business would have been a disaster.

This morning, though, with the ache of last night still settled on my shoulders, I don’t want to open my laptop. I don’t want to solve any problems except the problem of Josie’s broken heart. 

That might very well be unsolvable.

I don’t know. I know it’s not possible to leave her sister in the past, no matter how long she’s been gone, but maybe I can give her enough joy to make up for it.

Joy isn’t free, though. I can’t give her everything if I also neglect the business that keeps all of our lives running. I go back in, get my laptop, and carry it back out to the balcony.

First, Adam.

I’m trapped here, bro! That’s the start of his email. Deep, cleansing breaths. I can solve this.

Probably.

The situation is humming along at a steady boil. From his email, I gather that my brother can’t keep his mouth shut and is now essentially trapped in Italy. The other resort owner is throwing a fit about the Cash Industry property. If Adam leaves, the authorities aren’t sure they’ll let us keep the various licenses that we need to run the resort. If he stays, the whole thing might go up in flames. Figuratively, not literally. 

Maybe literally.

I send one message to all the parties involved. At its core, it says knock it off.

I send another message to Julia, because I want an honest assessment of how things are going at Cash Industries without me.

I send one final message to Dex. After all this, he still hasn’t “shut off my email,” or whatever it was he was planning to do.

I’m about to close the laptop when I get a reply from Julia.

Dearest brother,

I say this with all the love in the world: YOU HAVE GOT TO STOP EMAILING US. Everything is fine here. You’re supposed to be on vacation. You’ve been stretched thin and cranky for months, and we are all tired of it. Also, we are worried about your health. Do I really need to say that? I guess I really need to say that, because half the time I look at my screen, there’s a new email from you. 

Enjoy the resort. Dex told me it doesn’t matter what you think—he’ll buy it or not. So just enjoy it. For me?

Your favorite sister,

Julia

Damn it. She can still get a smile out of me, even when she’s being more than a little obnoxious about this relaxation thing.

Without the laptop, there’s nothing to do but look at the ocean and think. I ignore the nagging sensation to go and get my phone.

Last night. That’s what I keep coming back to—last night.

Last night. Josie’s tears. The way we moved together once she let her secret slip. I knew her in that moment. I knew her like I never expected to know her when I saw her on that plane.

Was it too much?

Later, when she slept, I ran my finger down the salt lines of the dried tears on her cheeks, hating myself for asking the wrong question.

I need to make sure that last night didn’t destroy everything between us. My heart pounds against my ribs. What if she’s gone for good, because I chased her away? 

No. That can’t be it. It was an innocent question. It’s not like we were in the same class in high school, and it was a long time ago...

That isn’t an excuse either.

Maybe it was too much. Too raw for both of us.

My phone chimes again. This time, it’s a direct message from Adam. God. Now that he’s taken to texting me, the only way I’m going to be able to avoid this situation is to destroy the phone.

I turn it over in my hand. If I throw it off the balcony, will that be far enough? No. The damn thing would survive.

It wouldn’t be right to leave him hanging, either, all the way in Italy.

Should I answer him or go find Josephine? I glance toward the sliding doors, then back out at the trees.

Something dark moves in the corner of my eye. It’s a woman, jogging along the tree line on the running path, her dark hair pulled back in the prettiest ponytail I’ve ever seen.

It’s Josie.

She disappears from view, popping out a moment later around the next curve. Without breaking her stride she looks up toward the window and gives a little wave. Is that a tiny smile?

It’s ridiculously strong, the relief I feel. 

Everything’s going to be fine.

That’s what I tell myself.