Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
“You bitch,” Connor said while he hugged Raffo tightly. “I’m so happy to see you, even though you lied to me all this time.”
“I couldn’t tell you, Con. I’m sorry.”
“I know, my mom made you do it. Good grief.” He let go of Raffo and gave her a once-over. “You look about a gazillion times better than when you left, so that’s something.”
“I feel better,” Raffo said, although she wasn’t sure how painting would go when she went back to her studio. “Your mom took great care of me.” The words tumbled out before she could stop them.
“You’re besties now after bonding over keeping a secret from me?” Connor joked.
If only he knew. But being here, in Connor’s house, around his energy, made everything, instantly, feel different. The hankering for Dylan that Raffo had suffered from since she’d left had disappeared at the sight of her best friend. Being with him in person, having a conversation, made Raffo able to see reason again. She hadn’t expected it to be so easy, but there you go.
“You’re very lucky to have a mother like that, despite… well, you know.”
“Despite her being a two-hour’s drive away from LA all summer? Tsk.” Connor shook his head. “Despite her lies and deceit.” He brought his hands to his chest. “But I love my mom. And we can’t all be flawless, like moi .” It was good to see Connor was already in a joking mood about it.
“I need you to know that I felt awful every time we talked on the phone and I couldn’t tell you she was there. I hated lying to you.”
“Ah. I’ll forgive you soon enough.” He shrugged. “I get it. You were staying at my mom’s house.” He cocked his head. “You must really like her then, if you were willing to lie to your best friend for her, and stayed with her all those weeks.”
“She’s, um, very easy to be around.” Raffo’s cheeks burned but, luckily, she had the kind of complexion that could easily absorb a blush. “Are you angry at her?”
“Not so much angry, more like utterly shocked. I’ve always thought of my mom as this really smart woman and then she goes and loses all this money. It doesn’t make any sense to me.” He tapped this chin. “I’ve had a day to think about it and, I mean, she looks fine, and she’s not even sixty yet, but you hear about these cases more and more. People with early-onset dementia.”
Raffo wasn’t sure if Connor was still joking or not. “I think she just got carried away.”
“She’s never displayed any signs before, as far as I know. But what do I really know? And then she goes and hides out in Big Bear for months? I mean, come on. Why didn’t she just tell me? We’re family. We’re meant to share the hard stuff.”
“She felt extremely stupid and ashamed and she didn’t want to worry you.” Raffo couldn’t help but defend Dylan.
“She said you made her feel better.” Connor looked Raffo straight in the eye—as though he knew something, which was impossible—and her stomach coiled itself in a knot.
“We talked a lot. And she made me feel better, too.” Argh. “I was painting again after two days there.”
Connor clapped his hands together. “Hallelujah.” His face split into the widest smile. “When can I see?”
“It’s not commercial work. I gave it to your mom for letting me stay at her house.” This part wasn’t so easy, because it involved omitting more truth—but Connor could never see the first painting Raffo made after she got her mojo back. “It was a picture of the lake house, so.”
“You gave my mom a painting?” Connor emitted something between a chuckle and a snort. “That should help with her money issues.”
“How have things been here?” Raffo had come straight to Connor’s house, where she would be staying. Her first order of business, now that she was back, would be to find a place of her own. “Have you seen you-know-who?”
“Only once or twice and just in passing. You know I’m firmly in your camp, Raff.”
“She’s still with my impossibly long-legged, blond replacement?”
“No one can replace you, but yes, I think so. I mean, I don’t really know. We’re not in touch.” Connor gave her a look. “Instead of talking about the evil ex, let’s talk about Chicago and Over The Rainbow.”
“Fuck yeah.” Raffo pointed at Connor. “You’re the man, Con.”
“Your one and only—man, I mean.” He walked into the kitchen. “I have a bottle on ice to celebrate.”
Raffo fetched the glasses and then clinked rims with her best friend who had made all this happen for her. She sipped from her champagne and let the happiness course through her. It was a straightforward kind of happiness that didn’t involve any ambivalence—or lying to people she loved—and that she could enjoy for a full one hundred percent. So she did and, while she was at it, pushed any lingering thoughts of Dylan all the way to the outskirts of her brain.
“By the way,” Connor said. “We’re not done celebrating. We’re having a party on Saturday. You’re the guest of honor, bitch .”
Raffo could only hope that Connor hadn’t planned on inviting his mother—but why would he?
Raffo’s champagne glass had been refilled too often, her pleasant buzz sliding dangerously toward drunk. She could easily tell because, as the evening progressed, and more people arrived at the party, she wished one of them was Dylan. But this was not the kind of party you invited your mother to, no matter how close you were.
Murray was in town, and she watched him and Connor dance together. Murray was seven years older than Connor, nothing compared to the age gap between her and Dylan. Not that it mattered. Fuck. Raffo had been back for five days now and she’d been happily caught up in the whirlwind of settling back in and picking up her life again. She’d already inspected a potential new home but when it turned out to be on the border of WeHo, Raffo had decided she didn’t want to tempt fate. What if she ran into Dylan at the local coffee shop? No thank you, please.
She refocused on Murray and Connor and on how seeing them together made her happy. Connor’s house was packed with all their friends—minus Mia, who was no longer considered a friend.
Raffo joined Connor and Murray on the makeshift dance floor and let herself be swallowed up by the love of her friends. She could enjoy this again now. Connor, who liked to throw a party for every possible occasion, had tried to wrangle Raffo into having one for her birthday a few weeks before sending her to Big Bear, but Raffo didn’t want a party then. There was nothing to celebrate because Mia had left her, and she could no longer paint, and she couldn’t even bring herself to go back to the house where they’d lived together for six years. The house they’d bought, renovated, and decorated together. The house that was such a symbol of their love, of their beautiful relationship, that Mia, nonetheless, had thrown away like a piece of stale, old bread.
Returning to her and Mia’s house would have to be the next step. But for now, Raffo was staying at Connor’s place in Silver Lake. It didn’t come with a lake attached and a gorgeous woman who cooked all her meals—and made her come like crazy every night—but it had her best friend in it and, oh, it had been so good to be reunited with Connor.
Tonight, Raffo wanted to celebrate. She was back and ready for whatever life had in store for her next—most probably a vicious hangover in the morning.