40. Ellie
Chapter forty
Ellie
“ I didn’t think anyone else was a morning person,” Evie says as she pulls the slider shut behind her, joining me on the sundeck. She plops into the chair next to mine and kicks her feet up on the railing in front of us, wiggling her toes in the humid, salty air.
The sun is about to break over the horizon, but the sky is already painted in color, broad sweeping strokes of orange and yellow waking up with the water and waves as they reflect beauty back to one another.
“I’m not,” I say, before sipping my coffee. “But after a year and a half of living with an infant who repels sleep, I think my body is operating on autopilot. Couldn’t sleep any later if I wanted to.”
“Maybe tomorrow. I always have a hard time sleeping in new places. Maybe you just need one more night to get used to it here. That’s what I’m hoping for anyway.”
“Maybe.” I smile at her optimism. “But if not, at least this isn’t such a bad view to wake up to.”
Evie takes a thoughtful sip out of her own mug before nodding in agreement. “Not bad at all. Carissa didn’t move an inch when I wormed my way out of our room. I would say I treaded lightly past Dee and Abby’s room, but apparently Dee snores, so I figured any noise I made wouldn’t have done much more damage than that.”
I bark a laugh. “Oh god, I completely forgot about that. Did anyone give Abby a heads up?”
“Abby volunteered. Said she sleeps with earplugs anyway.”
We sit in comfortable silence. I’ve known Evie for the least amount of time of any of the girls, but she and Bec have gotten close since she’s Aiden’s younger sister and soon to be Bec’s sister-in-law. I’m glad she was able to join us for the weekend.
“Thank you for coming on this trip,” I say. “I know it can be a pain to take time away. Bec mentioned your grad program is competitive.”
She sighs. “Even more of a reason to get away. I’m grateful for the invite. I don’t have many girl friends. It’s nice to be included. When I heard what your husband planned for you, and that everyone was pitching in their own ideas, I was dying to be a part of it.”
“Yeah, it’s really…something,” I say, smiling into my mug, both hands around the warm sides, once again reminded how over-the-top my husband is.
“Does it make you uncomfortable?” she asks without judgment, only curiosity. “The attention?”
“No one’s asked me that. Sometimes,” I respond honestly. “It’s weird that everyone knows I’ve been…struggling. Everyone planned really thoughtful, unique, and meaningful things for us to do together. Since Luca was born, it’s been easier to keep things surface level, you know? But with this stuff…”
“It’s like you can’t hide from it anymore. Can’t run from it either. Not with everyone’s attention on you,” Evie offers gently.
“Exactly,” I say, relieved she seems to get it. “It’s not that I’m not grateful, but sometimes it’s overwhelming.”
“What’s the hardest part?” she asks, her eyes on the sunrise.
It’s easier to talk like this. Like she’s asking the sun questions and I’m answering the ocean. Like I’m writing in a diary, and Evie’s just giving me the prompts, letting me air it all out .
“How selfish I feel. It feels like I should be giving my everything, all the time, to everyone else. The fact that all these little moments are being planned for me. It feels wrong.”
“We don’t know each other well, Ellie, but from an outsider’s perspective, I think you should know you’re anything but selfish. My parents fall on both ends of that spectrum,” she looks at me with a genuinely warm smile, “and you are so much like my mom. Resilient with a gentle, but unmistakable, strength.” Her eyes soften with understanding. “You’re a really good mom, Ellie. Your friends and your family want you to see what they see. It isn’t selfish to be shown how appreciated you are. How loved you are. It’s okay to open your heart and receive it.”
“For not having had many girl friends, you sure are good at it,” I say, emotion stuck in the base of my throat.
“It’s easy with the right group of people, I guess.”
We cheers to that before we’re interrupted by the slider opening again.
Dee pulls the door wide with a loud grunt. “Jesus Christ, why is this so heavy? Morning, dandelions. Carissa is getting some eggs and bacon going. What do you want on your toast? Abby says we’ll need our strength for what she’s got planned, so we’re carb loading.”
These girls make it easy to feel loved.
While we sit around the large dining table, the sun rising just outside the large windows, I take what Evie says and wrap it around the broken voice in my gut telling me to feel guilty for needing this, choosing to receive all the good things instead.
***
“Are you still upset? It was not that bad,” Dee says, exasperated.
“We watched a fish murder ,” Bec whines.
“What did you think fishing was?!” Dee retorts.
“I didn’t think we were beating them to death on the boat! ”
“Look, I think we should all be grateful we learned something new,” Dee says with conviction. “Besides, we got a bunch of fresh fish mailed home for us. Plus , we broke a gender stereotype. Six badass bitches, no men, on a fishing adventure? We are hunters. I’m proud of that, Bec Miller. Don’t try to take that away from me.”
Bec gives up on Dee, who is clearly unfazed by her emotional distress, and pleads with Abby. “Please tell me whatever we’re doing today does not involve beating a fish to death.”
“I’m with Bec on this. Sorry, Dee. We’re going indoors for this next one,” Abby says as she turns off the road into a small parking lot.
The building is cute and beachy, otherwise nondescript, except…
“Abby, why are all the windows covered?” Evie asks.
“Time to stretch, ladies. We’re pole dancing today,” she says, sliding the minivan door open with a heave.
“Oh, fuck yes,” Dee cheers, following Abby, the rest of us trailing behind, into the building.
The room is large with mostly open space. Mirrors cover every wall, only interrupted by the occasional window, each covered with bright and bold fabric curtains with sparkly tulle overlays.
“Good morning,” a cheerful voice rings out, before a woman joins us from behind a curtain separating the large space from a room in the back. “Welcome to Christy’s Beaches. I’m Tessa, and one of you must be Abby?”
“That’s me,” Abby says with a wave.
“Nice to meet you. Which one of your friends are we celebrating?” Tessa asks.
“This is Ellie,” Abby says, sidling up next to me with an arm around my shoulder.
“What are we celebrating?” I ask.
“You getting your spark back. What better way than shaking your ass with your girls to 2000s hits. You up for this?” Abby asks, excitement radiating off her.
I nod. “I’m in.” I might not be very coordinated, but I do love to dance. Abby’s a great listener, so I’m not surprised she’s picked up on that in the short time we’ve been friends since she started working with Bec at the dog training center last year.
“Perfect, I’ll be your instructor today. Let’s get started,” Tessa says, clapping her hands together.
Forty-five minutes later, we’re sweaty and laughing having fumbled our way through learning a few moves on the pole, nothing too difficult. We mostly learned how to move around the pole, attempting to look seductive while we did so. We eventually tried a small spin move, staying safely low to the ground.
It’s way fucking harder than it looks.
I’ve been to several strip clubs in my life, and the dancers always made this look easy, even when in platform stilettos. I’m barefoot and can barely keep from tripping over my feet and crashing into the pole. I narrowly avoid twisting my arms up trying to get the moves done with the right hand in the right place.
Tessa taught us a simple routine, starting on the floor and working our way around the poles. We run through the steps for the first time all together with music, and Dee screams.
“Holy shit, I knew we’d be hot. Fucking look at us. Okay, new plan. We all quit our boring ass jobs and open a burlesque club—we’ll be co-owners and headliners.”
“This is not hot,” Carissa calls out over the music as she fumbles the steps. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
“Close your eyes, Bambi, and feel the music. It’s all about confidence. You’ll find your footing,” Dee says, going completely off-script and shaking her ass how she wants, eyes closed and arms in the air.
“I’m with Carissa, my hands are too sweaty for this, I’m going to fall on my face,” Evie says as she clings to the pole with one hand, wiping the other on her leggings, I’m assuming to give her a better grip.
“ Ugh , you guys,” Dee whines. “When we start performing together, I’m not going to accept this kind of negativity backstage. Now there we go. Look at Ellie and do what she’s doing.”
“I’m not doing anything,” I say, cheeks turning red at being called out .
“Uh, wrong, you’re showing us exactly how you made that cute kid of yours. Hot damn, Dom isn’t going to be ready for the new moves you’re bringing home,” Abby says, laughing as she drops to her knees and then body rolls back up.
“Someone warn the hubby,” Bec yells as she does a shimmy.
I roll my eyes but can’t contain my smile because…this is honestly one of the most fun things I’ve ever done. I might need to find a studio that offers these kinds of classes at home. Or, you know, take Dee up on her offer, quit working in marketing, and become a burlesque headliner. Same thing.