Always around Four

"I'm not going, and that's final!" I slammed my laptop shut, the email from FaunaSphere Dynamics still glowing on the screen before disappearing into darkness. The prestigious wildlife conservation position—everything I'd worked toward—was being offered on a silver platter. But the catch was too great: it would take me back to California. Back to him.

"Lina!" My mother's voice carried up the stairs, sharp with frustration. Her footsteps followed, quick and determined despite her weakening state. "We've been through this a dozen times already!"

I turned away as she appeared in my doorway, unable to look at the shadows beneath her eyes, the pallor that had crept into her once-vibrant complexion. Even now, fighting her illness, she was beautiful—a Southern belle with strength that belied her increasingly fragile appearance.

"They need an answer," she continued, crossing my bedroom to stand before me. "You can't keep them waiting any longer."

"Watch me," I muttered, my jaw set stubbornly. "Alabama is home. California hasn't been home since I was ten."

Mom sat beside me on the bed, reaching for my hands. Her fingers were cold despite the warm spring air that drifted through my open window.

"This opportunity is everything you've worked for," she insisted, her voice softening. "FaunaSphere is the gold standard in conservation research."

"And what about you?" I challenged, finally meeting her gaze. "I found the bills, Mom. Stage two cervical cancer. Did you think you could hide that from me forever?"

Her face paled. "How did you—"

"It doesn't matter how I found out," I cut her off, my voice breaking. "What matters is that I'm not leaving you to face this alone." The decision was already made in my heart, regardless of what FaunaSphere was offering.

"That's exactly why you need to go," she countered, squeezing my hands with surprising strength.

"No!" I pulled away, standing up to pace the room. "I can defer the position. FaunaSphere will understand—"

"And what about your father?" she interrupted. "Ten years of birthday checks and occasional phone calls doesn't change the fact that he's still your dad. He's offering you a place to stay, free lodging in California of all places!"

"I'm not sure staying with Dad is the best idea," I said with a sigh, my feelings complicated after all these years.

The truth about my parents' marriage had revealed itself in fragments over time. A college romance, a surprise pregnancy, a reluctant proposal. Dad had done "the honorable thing" by marrying my mother, but his heart had never been in it. Five years later, Mom finally took me across the country to Alabama, away from a man who shared my blood but had always been distant.

"Your father has grown," Mom said unconvincingly. "Besides, you can't throw away your career because of me."

"I'm not throwing anything away," I argued. "I'm prioritizing what matters most."

She stood suddenly, her eyes flashing with anger. "I've already arranged everything. My sister is coming to stay. I have a support group. The treatments are scheduled." Her expression softened but remained resolute. "What I don't have is the strength to watch you sacrifice your future because of me."

"But—"

She placed a finger against my lips. "If you stay, I'll spend every day worried about what you're giving up. Is that what you want for me? More stress when I'm trying to heal?"

I felt the trap closing around me, her maternal logic impossible to counter. "That's not fair."

"Life rarely is," she said with a sad smile. "Now start packing. Your flight leaves tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow?" I gasped. "You already booked the flight?"

She nodded, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "I knew you'd hesitate. Sometimes a mother has to make the hard choices."

That night, I packed with angry, jerky movements, stuffing clothes into my suitcase as tears streamed down my face. The thought of leaving her behind while she battled cancer made me physically ill. But the thought of causing her more worry was equally unbearable.

The next morning we drove to the airport in heavy silence. Each mile increased the knot in my stomach, the sense that I was making a terrible mistake.

"Your father promised he'd be there when you land," Mom said as we approached the terminal.

I nodded without enthusiasm. Dad's promises were something I'd learned not to count on too much.

She pulled into the departure lane, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

"And you'll tell me if things get worse, right?" I asked, my voice catching. "No more secrets. Promise me."

"I promise." She hugged me tightly. "This is your time, Lina. Don't waste it worrying about me."

Walking away from her felt like tearing myself in half. At security, I turned for one last look. She stood where I'd left her, small and fragile, waving with a brave smile that broke my heart.

The flight stretched endlessly, each minute taking me further from my mother and closer to a future I wasn't sure I wanted.

"Mind if I take the middle seat? The guy on the aisle has been manspreading since Phoenix."

I turned to find a young woman gesturing to the empty seat beside me. Her bright smile and impeccable appearance made me self-conscious of my travel-worn jeans.

"Sure," I said, moving my backpack.

"I'm Jessica," she offered, settling in with practiced grace.

"Lina," I responded, turning back to the window.

"First time in California?" she persisted.

"No, unfortunately. Though it's been a decade. I'll be staying at my father's estate while I start a new job—free lodging beats California rent prices."

"Sounds impressive," Jessica replied with surprising eyes. "What kind of work?"

"Wildlife conservation research mainly," I explained, surprised to find myself engaging with her. "I'll be focusing on wolf pack social dynamics."

Over the next two hours, we discussed conservation ethics and the challenges of being women in male-dominated fields. Her intelligence defied my initial stereotyping.

"So what's the deal with staying at your dad's place?" she asked as we began our descent.

"It's complicated. My parents separated when I was young. My father remarried and started a new life here while my mother raised me in Alabama. We're not exactly close."

"That sounds rough," Jessica said with genuine sympathy.

By the time we landed, I felt an unexpected connection to this woman who had appeared so different from me.

"Who's picking you up?" Jessica asked as we waited for our bags.

I scanned the terminal, not particularly surprised by my father's absence. "Supposedly my dad, but he must be 'detained by business.'"

"Holy fitness models," Jessica whispered, eyes widening. "Don't look now, but two absolutely gorgeous men at two o'clock are holding a sign with your name. And when I say gorgeous, I mean Greek-god-level physiques. Are those arms even legal?"

I followed her gaze, recognizing them immediately. I felt a twinge of disappointment. "Looks like Dad sent someone else instead."

The taller one, Carl, looked as though he'd rather be anywhere else, his muscular frame straining against his fitted henley as he argued with his companion. Ara, the slightly shorter but equally chiseled brother, maintained a more composed demeanor. Both had evolved dramatically from the lanky teenage boys in Kennedy's occasional photos—they had transformed into men whose intimidating physical presence only amplified the complicated history between our families.

"Those two are part of the infamous quartet of brothers," I explained. "Apparently, my dad thought sending his wife's godsons made for an appropriate welcome."

"They may be hot," Jessica said, squeezing my arm, "but if they're jerks, just text me. We career women need to stick together."

Her unexpected solidarity brought a genuine smile to my face. "I might take you up on that sooner than you think."

"Shit, I forgot my bag, gotta go back to pick it," Jessica screamed as she sped her way back to the terminal.

I sighed and then approached the brothers, squaring my shoulders, trying not to dwell on my father's absence.

"Welcome back, little princess," Ara said, extending his hand while his eyes gleaming gold. "Glad to see you again after such a long time."