Kylie Cantrall's Arc

Chapter 24 of 78

Her mother set the bread on the counter and reached for the knife. The board still lay between them on the table, the last line drying. Kylie watched her mother's hand move toward the phone by the sink, then stop. One hour until the call. One hour until the label owned the shape of this week. Kylie stood up. "Wait. Before you eat. Before you call." Her mother looked up. Arianna set the guitar against the chair. "I haven't asked her," Kylie said. She turned to Arianna. "I haven't asked you." "Asked me what," Arianna said. "If you want this. If you want them to have it." Kylie pointed at the board. "Once she calls, the song is theirs to schedule. Our week is theirs to spin. I said yes for both of us and I never asked you." Arianna went still. Kylie's mother lowered the knife to the cutting board and stepped back from the counter, giving them the room. "Sit down," Arianna said. Kylie sat. Arianna reached under her chair and pulled up the canvas bag she'd brought Friday. She took out a wrapped bundle first and set it on the table. Red roses, tight and dark, tied with kitchen twine. "I was going to give you these after lunch." She reached in again and put two paper tickets beside the flowers. Boarding passes. Kylie read them upside down. Two names. One departure date next month. A ship route through the islands. "I bought them Wednesday," Arianna said. "Before your mother came. I was going to ask you at dinner tonight. Seven days. Just us. No label, no drone, no porch." Kylie touched the edge of one ticket. "You planned an answer before I asked the question." "I planned a life," Arianna said. "I want the song out. I want them to have it. I also want a week where the song is just a song and I'm just the girl who wrote the second verse." She pushed the tickets closer. "Ask them to announce it after we sail." Kylie looked at her mother. Her mother had her arms crossed, but her face had softened. "I can tell them the song exists," her mother said. "I don't have to tell them when. I can hold the release date until the fifteenth." "Do that," Kylie said. Her mother picked up the phone and walked to the porch to make the call. The screen door tapped shut. Kylie lifted the roses. They smelled like a real garden, not a florist. She set them down and put her hand flat on the two tickets. "Yes," she said. "To the boat. To the week. To asking you first, next time." Arianna took her hand. On the board, the last line waited to leave the house without them.