2. Abby #2
I think if he were to give his opinion, he’d say he always liked Clay overall.
My dad always says my happiness is his priority.
No matter what, he wanted to lift the pain.
Unfortunately, the pain I was feeling and still feel is simply not that easy to fix.
But he’s been by my side to give his big dad hugs and endless smiles when I’ve needed them since returning home.
I reach the restaurant in one piece, not that I doubted it. My mom acted like I was going to war with the rain forecast. She forgets I was living in Boston. The way there’s a storm forecast in California, you’d think the world was coming to an end over here.
What’s going to be over is my hair once I get out of the car. My long, wavy brown hair will double in size once I step foot out of my car. I can guarantee it because the waviness will only turn into a voluminous mess with the rain. I was blessed with big blue eyes, olive skin, and brown wavy hair.
If styled right, it’s cute, but with humid or wet weather, it has a mind of its own, and today it seems my hair will set the rules.
My hair normally cascades down my back, but on days like today, it will grow out much like the character Monica on Friends from the episode where she travels to Barbados and the humidity takes over.
I give my key to the valet, taking in what would be a beautiful view had the weather complied. Marissa chose a swanky new spot that is apparently one of the toughest places to get a reservation on a weekend, but dropping her name alone got us in.
Did I mention she’s an influencer on top of being an attorney in Los Angeles? Yeah, apparently, being a lawyer isn’t enough anymore. It all started with posts regarding local restaurant reviews as a side hustle in college, and she’s “kept it up for fun,” as she likes to say.
Walking into the front of the restaurant, I check my phone to find a text from Marissa telling me she’s already seated in the back.
I let the woman at the front know my name for the reservation, and I’m quickly escorted back.
The colors remind me of everything an up-and-coming LA spot has to offer.
It has trendy photo op spots, with props on the walls and wall art for influencers to take photos to upload on their socials.
Throughout the restaurant, they have QR codes for people to easily find their information to upload and tag the restaurant.
It’s hard to contain my eye roll because everything is about social media these days.
As I follow the hostess through, I feel the buzz of the lunch crowd while taking in the decor, noting the florals on the wallpaper with the splashes of gold and black on the furniture.
Even with this much life around me in Los Angeles, it’s hard not to long for the special spots I found in Boston that always seemed to tell a story when you walked in, compared to ones I visit in Los Angeles.
The moment I see Marissa waving me down when she notices me walking toward her, I push it aside and give her my biggest smile. The minute I’m at arm’s length, she pulls me in for the tightest hug.
“Oh, you bitch. It’s been too long!” Marissa says into my ear.
“You’re one to talk. It’s like scheduling lunch with the Pope when it comes to seeing you!”
“Oh, stop. It’s not that hard to see me.” She continues to squeeze, with no hope of pulling air back into my lungs.
Finally, she lets go, and I take a much-needed breath in. I regain life back into my body, sit down in the booth, and drink a sip of water, taking in my friend from years ago.
“You look amazing, Marissa. Don’t get me wrong. You always look good, but today, you look stunning. What’s going on?”
“So, I, uh, I’m seeing someone.” Despite the news being good, she seems hesitant to tell me.
“What? That’s amazing!” I love this for her. Her last girlfriend was the absolute worst.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this? I mean, I know you’re going through everything with Clay and all, so I was a bit hesitant to say anything.” She’s still being guarded with this news, while I’m over the moon for her.
“Stop, Marissa. My sadness should not cloud your happiness. I’m beyond thrilled for you. Really.” I reach my hand out and grasp hers to squeeze it. “Tell me more. When did you start dating? What’s her name? When do I get to meet her?”
“Um, let’s see. About a month. Her name is Josie.
I hope soon.” She’s ticking each answer off on her fingers to keep track.
I can’t stop the smile on my face from spreading.
“She’s a wedding photographer.” She smiles so big, it’s pretty amazing to see.
“We met at a banquet for work. She was actually filling in for a friend who couldn’t be there.
It was pure coincidence, and we just hit it off. ”
She is my closest friend, despite the years of living so far apart. We’ve remained close, and with all the times I’ve needed someone to lean on, she has never hesitated to be there for me, especially when Clay and I were going through our toughest times.
Not many know the full details of why things ended between Clay and me, except for my family and closest friends, which includes Marissa.
She was always the first person I would call when Clay was working his long shifts and I was home alone crying into my pillow, wishing my news was anything but sad.
“We have to celebrate. Where is the server? I need a mimosa or something!” I try to locate someone to grab me a proper drink.
“Yes, we definitely do. Plus, I need to celebrate that trial being over too. That was the absolute worst.” She rubs the space between her eyes and groans.
“Add that to the celebratory list.” I clink my water glass to her martini glass.
Marissa was valedictorian of her graduating class in high school. She was two years ahead of me. We were on the swim team together, and we were fast friends when I was an incoming freshman.
She went to UCLA and continued on at Harvard Law School. She is incredibly gifted at what she does, and hearing about all her accomplishments makes me immensely proud to not only know her but to be her friend. She even finished a year ahead in undergrad.
Once I get a proper drink ordered, we move on to our meal, and the lunch continues with so much laughter that my stomach hurts.
“I forgot Carl tossed that frog down Danika’s sweater during that fire drill. Then the Bunsen burner truly caught that paper on fire, and we had to evacuate!” We start laughing again, reminding me how good it feels to laugh and reminisce with Marissa.
We are the only ones left in the restaurant, and the staff are eyeing us with annoyance.
“Okay, let’s be real for a second. Why are you back in California, Abby?”
I feel like reality has slapped me across the face. The entire lunch has been completely lighthearted, and much like Marissa usually does to her opposing counsel, she comes out of nowhere with her dose of life and hits you upside the head.
“What do you mean?” I feign innocence and stupidity, apparently. “You and I both know I’ve been back a year. Why are you asking me this now?”
“I’m not stupid. You know what I mean. I gave you the year, but we’re done now.
Why are you still here? I honestly thought you would have pulled your head out of your ass already.
” Right then, I start laughing, thinking this is some kind of joke, but when she doesn’t join me, I realize she’s not kidding.
“Oh, you’re serious right now?” It comes out as a question, even though I know it’s not.
“As a heart attack. Abby, I know what happened between you and Clay. I get it, sweetie, it sucks.” She grabs my hand and squeezes. The sympathy in her eyes seizes my heart.
“ I get it. You were hurting. You are still hurting. Honestly, I assumed you just needed space. I thought you’d get here and then spend a few nights in your childhood home and book the next flight back to Clay.
I didn’t think you’d last a week back with Collette.
I mean, let’s be real, that woman is a pain in my ass, and she’s not even related to me.
” She laughs because she and my mom mix like oil and water. They have never gotten along.
Marissa continues, “But then you never left.” I look over at her in shock.
“No, no, no, that came out wrong. I don’t mean that like I want you gone.
I mean, I just thought you wouldn’t want to stay here because of your overbearing mother.
” She pauses and considers how that sounded.
“I guess nothing I’m saying sounds right, but honestly, no matter how I phrase it, your mom has a stick up her ass on the best days, Abby. ” She pats my hand, and I laugh.
“Please, just let me get this out. I love you, Abby. I love you like I love the law. Even so, I think you need to leave. California isn’t for you.
” I gasp, and she rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on, don’t give me that.
It’s no shock to you. You hate it here. Everywhere you go, you compare it to Boston.
So don’t give me that fake gasping charade because we both know I’m not lying.
I’m stating facts here. You want to tell me you walked through this restaurant, and a part of you didn’t think of Boston? ”
She eyes me for a second, and I roll my eyes. As if proving her point, she sits up taller and says, “Exactly. Plus, I rehearsed this already, so I’m not wrong.” I roll my eyes again because I know she probably has a typed-up sheet in her purse with actual bullet points listed.
“You gave this a shot. You put in your best effort. You made this mistake. Now it’s time to go back home. Not here, but back to Boston. This didn’t work out. California Abby isn’t your look, sweetie. I love you, but this is a no-go for you, babe.” She pats my hand.
“I really have no clue how to respond to this conversation.” Seriously, is this the right way to speak to your best friend? I mean, don’t long-distance besties ache for their friends to move back?