It Had to Be You by Georgia Clark (e reader for manga .txt) 📗

being home to lots of different animals.” Zia made her voice spooky. “Like snakes. And spiders. And big, man-eating tigers!”

The kids screamed as she leaped forward and tickled them, an explosion of shrieking giggles.

“Hey, hey, hey: inside voices, please,” Layla called from the cramped kitchen. “Or I’ll set those tigers on you.”

Zia and Layla shared a family resemblance, inheriting their father’s olive skin and their mother’s loose curls. But Layla looked much older than her thirty-five years, closer to forty. She was a single mom of two, and it showed in the indigo circles under her eyes. Zia looked a pinch younger than twenty-seven, with a full, carefree smile and startling green eyes that inspired painters and bad pickup lines.

“What happened?” Lucy asked her aunt.

“I stayed up all night and found my way out the next morning,” Zia replied, kissing Lucy’s forehead. “Got eaten alive by mosquitoes. But the jungle at dawn… man, it was unforgettable. A symphony of life.”

“Just another day in the globe-trotting life of Zia Ruiz.” Layla dried her hands with a dish towel. Her smile was wry.

Zia wrapped her arms around her big sister, feeling the same way she always did when talking about her work overseas: unbearably guilty. “One of these days, you have to come with me. You’d love it.”

“Okay.” Layla shrugged, addressing her kids. “You guys are old enough to stay home by yourself for a few months, right?”

The kids chorused, “Yes, totally!”

The sisters exchanged a smile.

“Yeah, I bet. Okay, if we’re out the door for day care in five, you can watch Paw Patrol tonight,” Layla bribed. “Again.”

That sent Lucy scampering and Mateo after her, his cast banging against the floor.

Layla slipped on her CVS vest. She’d been working for the pharmacy ever since she kicked the kids’ deadbeat dad out of their one-bedroom years ago. “I missed you so much, sis. You were gone forever.”

“Four months,” Zia corrected. Four amazing months helping build a school in rural Cambodia. Zia worked as a paid volunteer coordinator for Global Care, an international NGO devoted to humanitarian and environmental causes. She’d joined a team in its local field office and would stay as long as they needed her. Sometimes a disaster would mean an influx of interest that needed managing; sometimes she was just covering someone’s maternity leave or overseeing a construction project. Between jobs she wanted to take, Zia picked up cater-waiter work in New York and spent time with her sister.

Working for Global Care didn’t feel like work. It was a promise she’d made to herself, the ability to pack up and leave on a day’s notice. It was a freedom she was still getting used to having again. For reasons she didn’t like to think about.

Layla pulled her hair into a ponytail. “Just promise you’re not ditching out on us again anytime soon.”

Zia’s throat tightened. She was already looking for another overseas assignment. “I didn’t ditch you. I’m just, y’know, living my life.”

“I know.” Layla sighed. “I’m just jealous. I wish we could trade places for, like, forever.” She massaged the joints in her hands, wincing. Zia’s older sister had rheumatoid arthritis, and even with medication, it still gave her pain. “Are you sure you can’t babysit? Day care’s so expensive.”

“Sorry. I’m working a wedding upstate for Liv Goldenhorn.”

“Didn’t her husband bite it?”

“Layla! He didn’t ‘bite it.’ He died.” Zia had worked on and off for Liv since she was seventeen. Eliot’s death made her more determined to live life on her own terms. “I gotta go. Darlene’s driving, and she hates when I’m late.”

“Before you run off again…” Layla handed her a medium-size box.

Zia read the front. “It’s an air mattress.”

“Yup. Unless you wanna keep sleeping in the bed with me.” Layla tossed her a grin. “Just like when you were a kid.”

Zia put down the box, a sense of claustrophobia closing in. “Thanks, but I might crash at Darlene’s tonight.”

Layla paused. “It’s a really good mattress.”

“Babe, I’ve been here every day since I got back,” Zia said lightly. “And Darlene has a sofa bed.”

“The doc wants a million follow-ups for Mateo’s leg.” Layla piled dishes into the already full sink. “No idea where I’m getting the money for that. And I really need a dishwasher. Swear to God, I spend my nonexistent free time up to my neck in dirty dishwater. It’d be great if I had an unburdened little sister who could finish up here before she disappears. Again.”

“I can’t. I’ll be late.” Zia stuffed her sleep shirt and toothbrush into her backpack, trying to mute the impulse to flee.

“Okay.” Layla blasted water over the dishes. “Have fun.”

“It’s not fun, it’s work.”

Layla opened her mouth. Reconsidered. Shut it. She pulled her sister in for a hug. “Love you.” It sounded like a reminder.

“Love you too.” Zia backed toward the front door. “And you can have all my tips from tonight. But I really gotta go.” Then to the kids, “Bye, monkeys! Have fun at day care!”

On the street outside, she inhaled a breath of fresh air, letting the tension of the morning melt away. It was a beautiful day in Astoria. Things with her sister would work out. Even if she was envious, Layla wanted the best for her. She’d never really stand in her way.

Zia breathed in once, twice, and set off on her bike, coasting down the wide, sunny street. You’re free, she told herself, still trying to believe it.

10

It was a gorgeous, sunny morning in SoHo—the kind that makes the city look like a backdrop for a movie where everyone gets what they want in the end. Sunshine splashed over the yellow cabs and glinting skyscrapers. Why would you live anywhere else?

The bagel shop guy rang up Darlene Mitchell’s breakfast order. “Eighteen dollars.”

Ouch: that was why. Darlene was frugal, but being frugal in New York was like trying to be sober at a wedding. Still, it was satisfying the order came out even. Darlene’s car volume, thermostat, and her alarm were