Long Way Down (Calloway Sisters, #4)

by Krista Ritchie

He can mourn. He can grieve. He can be upset for the rest of his life. And still. I will never give up on Ryke Meadows. Like he never once gave up on me.

He has his arm protectively around my belly, my back to his chest, while he scrawls on the cake with yellow gel icing. I read the words, sorry we fucked on your couch. Our apology cake looks pretty good.

Yesterday, we meant to just watch a movie in the living room, but we were kind of spooning. The easy-access position, my flirting, and our combined arousal led to sex. Lo and Lily caught us after we fell asleep, naked under covers. On their couch.

There are tears in his eyes. He feels our baby kick one more time, and his shocked laugh breaks into a smile. I share it with him.

“Tu as deux choix, mon cœur,” Connor tells his daughter. You have two choices, my heart. He squats down so he’s the same height as her. I’m not sure if she can fucking understand him, but she rubs her eyes with her fist, her hiccups lessening. “We can either send Sadie to live with Frederick and she’ll return to us in a year or we can send you away and you’ll never see us again.” Her lips part in horror.

He says, “Do you remember when Penn and Princeton faced Harvard at the Quiz Bowl Quarter-Finals, and we were both certain that George Lansidle was cheating?” She nods. “It was my first year in college, and I despised you.” “And you spent two hours in the convention’s banquet hall with me.” “To figure out how to expose George’s treachery.” Fire flames her yellow-green eyes. His grin starts rising. “We were used to competing against one another, but this time we willingly worked together. Do you remember?” She nods again, her gaze softening, and his hand slides into hers. “I’ve loved you, always,” he says. “I was just too blind to see how much and for how long. There’s a nineteen-year-old boy, handing you his blazer in a bathroom, and if he could, he’d tell you this. All over again.” A tear rolls down Rose’s cheek. He kisses her forehead and then says, “Ensemble.” Together. “Ensemble,” she whispers.

“You’re a sister now, Jane. At some point, your brothers will need you, and you’ll need them. They’re the best thing you have in this world.”

“Will it always be like this?” she asks so fucking softly. The public is against us. Her old friends aren’t listening to her protests or the law. The best she can do is ignore all of it and focus on staying healthy. “No, Calloway,” I tell her fucking strongly. Her eyes meet mine. “It’s going to be better than this, but you’re tough enough to walk through shit and cheer on the other side. I know you are.” Her smile briefly toys with her lips. “Will you walk through shit with me?” “Every fucking day of my life.”

“I never understood. Not when Daisy explained it, not when you did. I didn’t get it, but now I do.” My frown darkens. “What do you mean?” “Climbing is a part of you. That’s what you told me. And I look at you now without it…you’re different. You’re fucking lifeless compared to the person you were. The person I know, we all know.” His chin quakes. “I miss my brother, and if you won’t fight for the thing that makes you happy, then I’m going to fight for you.”

“You’re my favorite fucking wild thing.”

To the brother who’s not the bastard.’—Fucking hilarious, Lo,” I mutter and shake my head. “‘I thought about making you Luke Skywalker since you have such daddy issues…’” I roll my eyes. “‘…but I can’t imagine you in a white robe. Anyway, you have a scar on your eyebrow, which makes you look more like Anakin. Just know, I could’ve made you a bottle of mustard or a banana, so be happy about it.’”

P.S. I don’t think you’re the villain, even if Anakin is.

“I think it’s important to tell all of you something before we begin this journey.” She has glitter all over her face and her wing keeps jabbing me in the fucking ribs. “The hot-tempered triad cannot come out to play.” We all groan.

“This is serious.” She spits a strand of hair off her lips. “Don’t freak out if someone hits on Daisy.” “She’s fucking pregnant,” I growl, narrowing my eyes at the idea. No. Fuck no. “See, you’re already freaking out! Don’t do that, Ryke.” I glower, but she turns on Rose. “Don’t freak out if someone says mean and rude things to me. I’m going to be okay.” Rose purses her lips, trying to bite her tongue, but she blurts out, “I’ll slit their throats.” Me fucking too. Immediately agreeing with the metaphorical threat. Lily spins on Lo. “And you.” “Yes, love?” Lo begins to smile which almost cracks Lily’s stern demeanor. She stands confidently though. Her Tinker Bell to his Peter Pan. “You better have the best twenty-seventh birthday ever. AndLorenHalealwaysfucksbetter,” she slurs together before kissing his cheek quickly and disappearing back into the limo.

Garrison motions to Lily. “And your passcodes took me thirty seconds to hack.” Lo gives her a look. “Whaaa…” She crinkles her nose. “It’s not anything familiar to anyone, I promise.” “It is though,” Garrison says. “Your favorite movie is X-Men: First Class. You said it in an interview, which is public knowledge. You can’t use 2011xmen as your password—” “Shhh!” she hushes him with large eyes and waves like she’s swatting bees. “Someone’s going to overhear and get into my work email.”

“Normally I wouldn’t even waste words on someone who I find parochial and meaningless, but maybe I pity you just enough to say this: in the next two centuries, my wife and I will still exist. We will live beyond you through minds and words and hearts. If that makes you feel weak and insignificant, then maybe you should reevaluate your own stance in the world—and not attempt to beat at mine with two flailing hands.”

Yesterday I think she was mentally ready to have the baby. She’s been upbeat about the whole experience, taking pictures of her growing belly every week. She even put headphones on her stomach a few times. Playing Modest Mouse, one of my favorite bands, through the speakers. She looked insanely fucking happy when using her stomach as a tray table. Eating popcorn and double fudge ice cream that way. I can list off a million other moments where she smiled. Where she laughed and paused to intake the second, the minute—our lives.

Connor and Rose join us, Rose’s heels tapping along the marble floors. She eyes her little sister. “Does it feel like he’s putting a fist through your vagina?” “God, yes,” Daisy says in a heavy sigh. “It gets worse.”

That morning, Lo, Willow, and I sat on the patio around a fire. Drinking homemade, non-alcoholic Butterbeer that she made with Lily. We’re all smiling. I flip the photo over. She wrote on the back. Ryke Meadows (Gryffindor), Loren Hale (Slytherin), Willow Hale (Gryffindor, like Neville Longbottom). Thanks for caring about me, even before we were family. My brother and sister.

But if Garrison takes Connor’s offer, they won’t be together for the next four years. “Take it,” she repeats, her opinion unchanging. Her neck elongates, like she’s holding her fucking breath. “I just want the best for you.” “The best for me is to be with you.” His nose flares, restraining emotion. “I’m a better fucking person when I’m with you.” He rubs his face a couple times, and any doubt I’ve ever had about him just fucking disappears. I can see how much they emotionally care about one another. How much they probably have this whole fucking time. “Don’t be afraid,” she whispers to him. “You can do anything on your own. I know you can.” Her glasses fog up and she takes them off. His reddened eyes meet hers, and his brown hair brushes his lashes. He clasps her hand, threading their fingers. And he says, “I love you.” Tears squeeze out of her eyes. “No matter where we are, you’re always going to be my girl.”

Friends might not be forever, but maybe friends that you view as family have long-lasting powers, destined to stick around.

He cups my cheeks, his hands rough and strong. “A hundred-and-fifty miles per hour.” Tears slip down my cheeks and I murmur, “No brakes.” “Never any fucking brakes.” He raises my hand in his and kisses my knuckles.

I look up at Ryke, tears streaming down his face as he glances between our daughter and me. I whisper, “We made this.”

“I’ve never loved anything fucking more than you and her.”

He tells her, “It’s taken a lot of fucking love to have you.”

I stroke my little girl’s cheek. “She named you Sullivan…” Adam Sully would’ve loved it, which is why it fucking gets to me. I put my hand to my mouth. I wonder if the name was a spur of the moment idea or if she’s thought about it for a while.

“Unle Ry”—he pushes his words together in haste—“Daddy said big rock!” He stretches his arms out. I translate this as: Uncle Ryke, Daddy says you’re going to climb a big rock!

“You realize that you have my eyes, little gremlin,” she says in her normal, icy voice, but the affection for her child is written all over her face. “They’re the best eyes in the world. They can defeat your adversaries and claim victories better than your father’s.” Connor hears this and begins to grin. “Have you looked into Jane’s eyes recently, darling?” He has Beckett asleep on his lap. Janie, who gazes at the clouds, rolls onto her stomach and stares at her mother with big round blue eyes. “You’re beautiful like water,” Rose tells her daughter and then she raises Charlie. “Fire.” She pats Janie’s head who is full-on grinning like her fucking father. This fucking family is still weird. “Water.”

“Don’t quit the fucking things you love, sweetie,” I tell my daughter. It’ll kill you inside.

I want Sullivan Minnie Meadows to race one-hundred-and-fifty miles per hour. No brakes in sight. Don’t be afraid of the unknown in tomorrow. Don’t be afraid of death. There is no worse life than a hollow one.

I hold Sulli around the waist and lift her to the sky, high above my head. She stretches out her arms and legs and laughs, a beautiful sound. She loves when I do this, and I toss her, not too fucking high, and catch her again. Camera flashes go off, and the journalists start buzzing with chatter. I don’t care about the audience. I just watch Sulli grin from ear-to-ear. She stretches her arms again like she’s flying. For as long as I fucking live, I’m never letting anyone put out your light. They’ll have to crawl over my dead fucking body.

Before I leave, Daisy says, “He’d be proud of you.” “Yeah.” My eyes immediately well. “I think so too.” Sully never would’ve wanted me to quit, but looking back, there’s no way I could’ve climbed right after his death. Not even if my leg was fine. I needed time.

“You’re going to climb one last time with me, Sully.” Then I grip the rock. With the corners of my mouth lifting, I rise off the dirt.

I am the biographer of my own life. And no one can take that away from me.

We’ve had a rocky start together. We’ve struggled with the balance of our fucking relationship, but after hitting the lowest points in my own life, I looked to Lo. He was there. I don’t think I ever imagined, at the beginning of it all, he’d be stable enough to help me. I leaned on my brother. I was never scared to, and that’s how I know we’re both doing okay.

Battery-powered lights emit an orange glow through the tree house windows, and I see the outline of Daisy and our daughter. I don’t fucking move. I just watch for a second. The strands of her hair tangle around her face, Sullivan’s head rested on her shoulder. Daisy waves this homemade wand. She said that she made it herself when she was a little girl. I’ve seen it: blue and green streamers and purple string hanging off a wooden stick. Lo doesn’t have to be here to tell me. I have love on my face.

We keep pulling closer to each other, only a few inches between our chests. Like nature intended us to be entangled, crazy things. I’ve never been happier. Never felt brighter. Never loved my life more.

You know what I’m happy about—my brother, my little fucking brother—he’s thirteen years sober. Thirteen years.

A long nine years after Jane was born, Rose finally gave birth to another girl. Connor and Rose made good on their promise and stopped having children when girl number two came into the world.

Yesterday, Lo said that I’m a pushover. I let his eight-year-old daughter draw an alien on my arm and stars on my cheek with Sharpie. If Luna Hale asked to pen a spaceship on my forehead, I probably would’ve said just not in my eye.

Now this child—she’s a spitting image of her mom. Winona Briar Meadows.

All my girls. This is my family. And I swear to you—there’s no shortage of love in this room. Greater and stronger than anything I experienced growing up, and I just think, this is my life. This is my fucking life—and I’m not alone. I’ve loved every moment. Especially all the ones with them.

He’s the third-born of the Hale children. Maximoff, Luna, Xander, and Kinney.

Connor and Rose had seven children in total. An empire.

By the fridge, Lily holds a sleepy toddler in a panda onesie, and she whispers quietly with Lo. He has this look like he’s half-listening but really he’s thinking about how adorable his wife fucking is, especially with his daughter right there. I know how this’ll go so I don’t wait around to watch. He’ll tease her by leaning in for a kiss, only to stick his tongue in Lily’s ear. She’ll whisper-hiss his name and then slug his shoulder. He’ll mock wince. They’ll look infatuated with each other, remembering how many years they’ve spent. How far their lives have come. How much love they’ve shared. Their romance has never changed. We all thank the fucking world for that because there is no Lily without Lo. There is no Lo without Lily.

All six of us fix our eyes on the rising sun. There are moments you remember and people you will never fucking forget. While orange light bathes us, while tension flits far, far away, how much we’ve felt—all that we’ve bled—surrenders to our collective love. Lifetimes, days, minutes spent together. As we watch outward. As we watch upward. As our faces warm. We live and breathe in quiet, blissful peace.