Chapter 3 #2
“I have faith in Johnathan,” Leah countered.
“I’m glad you do,” Grace joked.
“Are you ready for a week at Lake Michigan with your favourite step-mommy?” Leah teased.
“Don’t! I might be thirty-four years of age, but I will never learn to like that woman.”
“Big Daddy Harrison is no closer to divorcing her then?”
“I wish. For some reason, he refuses to see her for what she is—an idle, condescending, evil, money-grabbing whore.”
“You missed out ‘cheating whore,’” Leah added.
“Urgh. I plan on organising enough activities that I don’t have to be in a room with her for longer than an hour at any one time.”
“That sounds like a good plan.”
Grace and Ariana’s mother left their father when they were eight and ten. He quickly found his rebound and proceeded to hurtle full-speed into a long-term relationship with the most unlikeable woman in the western hemisphere.
Now, she was entitled to half of everything—for contributing absolutely nothing.
She was clever; Grace admired the audacity.
She’d made her feelings clear to her father, which resulted in a falling out, followed by a promise that they would get together once a year—and only once—to ‘bond’ as a family.
“Ariana doesn’t want to come, but I’ve told her if she leaves me alone with the Wicked Witch of the West, I will never speak to her again.”
“Speaking of Ariana,” Leah said. The phone line went deadly silent.
“Leah . . .”
“I saw her,” she whispered.
“You saw her? When? How?”
“Last night. I went to a charity event in place of my father, and Ariana was there.”
“Hold up! I spoke to her this morning and she didn’t say anything!”
“Well, I mean, it isn’t that deep, is it?” Leah replied.
“You don’t believe that,” Grace disputed. “This is the first time you’ve seen her since my wedding, right?”
“Yep.”
“I need a drink.” Grace placed the phone on loudspeaker and proceeded to pour herself a glass of wine. “What the hell happened? Did you talk?”
“She invited me to her hotel.”
“She did what?” Grace interrupted.
“It wasn’t like that. She asked me to meet her at the bar to talk.”
“Talk about what?” Grace yelled.
“Grace, we bumped into each other—she was getting in a taxi. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I met her at The Whitby . . .”
“The Whitby!!” Grace interjected again.
“Will you let me finish!” Leah snapped.
“The Whitby is your hotel. I know all about your antics at The Whitby.”
“There were no antics at The Whitby.”
“You think I don’t remember you disgustingly telling me all about the best sex you’ve ever had in your life with my sister?” Grace made a gagging noise.
Grace was like an encyclopaedia of information. She had a textbook on gossip hardwired into her brain—and a giant chapter on Leah and Ariana: the most compatible couple that never was, as she often referred to them.
“Okay, fair enough. But still—she invited me, I was lonely, and also a little intrigued as to what she might say. So I went to the bar,” Leah sighed.
“And what happened?” Grace questioned.
“Nothing.” She threw the last of her wine to the back of her throat as though she were dehydrated.
“You expect me to believe that nothing happened?” Leah scoffed.
“Grace, she’s with Hannah now. It’s been five years. It wasn’t that deep,” Leah clarified.
“Five months ago, you stopped dating the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen in the state of Michigan because you saw a picture of Ariana and Hannah on my feed and it made you want to pull your eyeballs from their sockets with a pair of tongs.”
“That wasn’t anything to do with Ariana. I had hay fever—it was a reasonable reaction.”
“Please. I know you better than you know yourself.”
“If you know me so well, name three things that I bought from the store on my way home,” Leah challenged. She sat back, smug. There was no way—
“Pretzels, wine . . .and . . .tampons.”
“Okay, that’s weird!”
“We’ve been in sync since like 2010, so that was easy,” Grace said.
It was true—their pheromones became one in the mid-2010s.
“So, if nothing happened, how did you leave things? Are you going to be BFFs now you both live in the same city? I’m not sure how Han would feel about that.”
Leah was instantly enraged whenever Grace called Hannah by her shortened, overly familiar nickname.
She wouldn’t admit it to Grace, but she was jealous.
Her and Hannah got along famously. Leah had spent years after her break-up with Ariana comparing herself to Hannah—wondering what made her so special.
The jealousy still gnawed at her confidence, sometimes causing her to question her own worth as Grace’s best friend.
“She got a phone call and left. We didn’t arrange to meet up again. We had a brief chat, that’s all,” Leah clarified.
“If that’s the case, do you think you guys would be okay if you had to be in the same room? I’m just thinking like Ezra’s birthday parties, my birthday—it would be nice for there to be no tension,” Grace said.
“Yes, of course. I’ve never said I can’t be in the same room as her,” Leah stressed.
“I know, but I also didn’t want to put you in that position.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“I always worry about you. You’re my best friend, and future custodian of my child—it’s my responsibility to worry about you.”
“I’m the future custodian of your child?” Leah laughed.
“Yes. Did I not tell you?”
“Nope.”
“Are you sure?” Grace questioned.
“I think I would remember a conversation where I became the appointed guardian for Ezra.” Leah poured herself a second, larger glass of wine.
“Oh, I blame baby brain! Do you mind taking Ezra should me and Johnathan die in a horrific accident?”
“You would seriously want me?” Leah’s eyes widened, surprise in her voice.
“Yes!”
“What about Ariana?” she asked.
“Ariana doesn’t like kids,” Grace said.
“I think she’d make an exception for her nephew,” Leah laughed.
“Maybe.”
“What about one of your parents?”
“My mother the hypochondriac, and my dad the over-obsessive sports freak who will probably force Ezra to run track at 6 a.m. every day until he pukes?”
“You make a valid point. Although I do love Violet.”
Violet Harrison was a beloved figure in her community—sweet-natured, with a warm smile and a kind heart. She had dedicated her whole life to raising her children to be upstanding members of society, and Leah admired her for that.
“Plus, they’re too old. They can’t run around after a toddler.”
“What about Johnathan’s brother?”
“Are you trying to get out of this?”
“No, not at all. I’m actually honoured. I’m just surprised, that’s all,” Leah admitted.
“Why would me choosing you as Ezra’s appointed guardian surprise you? You’re one of the most wonderful humans I know. I actually think he would be better off with you regardless of whether I die,” Grace chuckled.
“If you want him to live off a diet of pretzels and leftover Friday doughnuts, then yes,” Leah joked.
“You didn’t seriously take home the leftover doughnuts, did you?”
“They would’ve gone to waste! I have breakfast for the whole weekend now.”
There was a health expert somewhere nearby cursing Leah for her yo-yo eating habits. She was healthy—for the most part. The sheer amount of biodegradable salad bowls in her office trash can would support her argument.
“What are you doing this weekend?” Grace asked.
“The same thing I do every weekend—watch TV, eat takeout, and wait patiently for my dad to request a million things I already sent him.”
Douglas Green was a highly ambitious man with great leadership skills and a presence that commanded respect, but there was a reason he had two assistants and an advisor—organisation wasn’t his strongest skill.
“Luckily, he’s on holiday next week, so after tomorrow he’ll be in vacation mode, and I’ll be working from home most of the week.”
“Shouldn’t you go in and enforce your role as Advisor to the CEO on the good people of DGAG?” Grace jested.
“They already hate me, Grace. Let’s not give them any more reason to.”
“I’m sure they don’t hate you. They just hate that you have a successful father who’s willing to take a chance on his brilliant, beautiful daughter over the other more qualified women in his workplace,” Grace teased.
“Thanks!”
Leah hated having to argue her position. She feared she wasn’t qualified enough—but in reality, she was. More so than half the women who seemed to so begrudgingly interact with her. She hoped for her chance to prove it soon enough.
Grace very abruptly ended the phone call when Ezra’s cry echoed through the house—parental duties.
The black metal box on the bottom shelf of her bookcase was her memory box.
In her old apartment back in Michigan, the box was neatly tucked away in her wardrobe, out of sight, gathering dust. It only made an appearance after one too many drinks or a feel-good film that made her want to reminisce.
The box contained everything from a certificate she received in fourth grade to a poker chip from the one and only time she went to Vegas.
It held items of significance only, each bringing back a fond memory she hoped to look back on one day with heightened appreciation.
When she unpacked, there was a hesitation in hiding the box away. Now, she stared at it as though it somehow had all the answers. The contents had evolved over the years—a small capsule for every chapter of her life. Including the chapter that Ariana had been a part of.
Leah didn’t like to think of that chapter as the most significant—beautiful, life-altering, yet soul-destroying—but it was.
It changed her perspective on love, and it made her realise that her unrealistic idealisms about life in general were exactly that—unrealistic.
Like any book in its infancy, there was always another chapter, and she still wasn’t sure when that would start, if it already had, or if she was bang in the middle of it.
The move out of Michigan had to be the start of something, right? A change in state, a new job, a new city to navigate, new people to meet—that had to be more than just a break in chapter.
Then along came Ariana, on an unsuspecting Thursday evening in the heart of the most wonderful city in the United States of America. There she was, looking phenomenal as she so often did, causing a pang of yearning to climb its way up from the depths of Leah’s heart.
Maybe, the chapter wasn’t closed.
There was a picture in the metal box, a picture she didn’t need to remove to see because it was etched on a giant white, freshly painted wall in her mind.
It was a picture of Ariana, Grace, and Leah.
A picture taken before they crossed the boundary of friendship.
Leah had known Ariana for as long as she’d known Grace.
The attraction didn’t form until Ariana became single—and the possibility of something more became very apparent, very quickly.
Prior to that, Ariana had simply been Grace’s older sister.
They could be friends.
Ariana had told Leah in the days after their break-up that it could be a possibility, should they both choose to pursue it. At the time, the thought made Leah want to vomit uncontrollably. Now, the nausea was considerably less severe.
Could they be friends? For the first time in five years, Leah asked herself that very question.
The caller ID on her phone flashed, pulling her from her Ariana-fuelled daze.
“Ezra back in bed?” Leah asked.
“For now!” Grace paused. “So, I have a proposition for you,” she said, suspiciously.
“Are you making me the guardian of a second child I didn’t know about?” Leah joked.
“No! But it does involve helping me with Ezra . . .”
“Go on . . .”
“Well, you know I said Jonathan was useless? Turns out my low expectations weren’t low enough. He’s just informed me he needs to work next week, and he’s tried every which way to get out of it—but he can’t.”
“Okay . . .”
“How would you feel about accompanying me to Lake Michigan for a Harrison family vacation?” Grace’s high-pitched voice didn’t drown out the uncertainty in her question.
“You’re kidding, right?” Leah sat upright, her glass of wine almost taking a tumble onto the carpet below.
“Look, Ezra misses his Auntie Le-Le. I miss his Auntie Le-Le too. You said yourself your dad is on vacation, so you can work from home—or from a cabin in Lake Michigan. It’s perfect!”
“And what about Ariana and Hannah?” Leah asked.
“It could be the perfect opportunity to put all that to bed, right? You said yourself you need to find a way to move on and be friends with her for the betterment of the universe.”
“I don’t think I said that,” Leah disagreed.
“Maybe not those exact words, but trust me, this will be such a fun trip, and there’s nobody else I’d rather ask to accompany me! Please?” Grace pleaded.
“I will consider it, on one condition,” Leah said.
“Anything.”
“I don’t want to be seated next to your step-monster . . .at any point.”
“Deal!”
“Okay, I’ll come,” Leah sighed, reluctantly.
“I love you. I love you. I love you,” Grace squealed.
What the hell was she thinking?
After the phone call came to an end, Leah sat in disbelief. Grace had a way of persuading her to do almost anything. It must’ve been Leah’s unfaltering trust in her—“no” very rarely appeared in her vocabulary where Grace was concerned.
Damn. Leah pressed her head in her hands.
If she wasn’t truly over Ariana, she had forty-eight hours to figure out how to pretend.