Chapter Fifteen
Chapter
Fifteen
Clover Moon Café was packed.
It usually was during the summer, even at ten thirty at night, so April wasn’t surprised to find the dining room filled with both locals and summer people, all of them desperate for chocolate malts and the café’s famous honey whiskey pie.
April had driven the three of them into town, focusing on the hilly roads, her hands dutifully clutching the steering wheel at ten and two, trying not to think about Daphne’s exposed thigh right there in the passenger seat, her dress hiked up just above her knee.
April needed pie.
She needed pie and chocolate, and she needed to freak out with her best friend, though how exactly she was going to do all of that with Dylan, Sasha, and the object of her freak-out surrounding them, she wasn’t sure. She’d figure it out. Steal away into the bathroom. Something.
Because Sasha was right—whatever April had expected from their kissing adventure in the woods, it certainly hadn’t been that.
The sounds Daphne had made.
Her soft mouth, the way she’d held April’s face.
April’s hand on Daphne’s delicate throat.
Fuck, she really needed pie.
Once inside, April wove through the crowded tables to reach Dylan and Ramona’s corner booth near the back, Sasha and Daphne trailing behind her.
“You need to do it sooner rather than later, babe,” Dylan was saying as they approached. Her back was to April, and she had her arm slung around Ramona’s shoulders. “Before it leaks. You know how these things go. Best-laid plans.”
Ramona leaned into her. “I know. But it wasn’t the right time earlier, and I—” She froze as her gaze shifted and landed on April. “Hey! You’re here!”
Her voice was too bright, her smile wide and showing off all her teeth.
“I am,” April said, plopping down on the other side of the booth, then scooting all the way toward the wall. “What are these best-laid plans?”
Ramona opened her mouth, but then focused on April’s companions. “Daphne. Sasha. Hi.”
“Hi,” Daphne said, waving as she slid in next to April, followed by Sasha, creating a tight squeeze in the booth.
The aforementioned bare thigh pressed against the thin fabric covering April’s own leg.
She held her breath for a second, picked up the menu she knew by heart just to focus on something else.
Daphne shifted, her woodsy vanilla scent wafting over April. She nearly passed out right there.
Sugar. She needed sugar.
She cleared her throat as Ramona introduced Sasha and Daphne to Dylan, glad when neither of them fawned or preened in front of the star. Daphne was especially cute, her cheeks going predictably pink and her shoulders curling inward a little, a shyness that April somehow wanted to protect.
“I need pie,” April announced, flipping the plastic menu in front of her face again. “And a shake. Preferably with peanut butter and Oreos. Oh, and dark sour cherries.”
“That sounds disgusting,” Sasha said.
“That sounds like magic,” Daphne said, her eyes bright as she scanned the menu herself.
Ramona widened her eyes at April—she also thought April’s favorite combo for a shake was revolting—a small smile on her lips. Most likely, Ramona knew something was up, and April felt a wash of relief in Ramona’s presence.
At her best friend’s ability to just know.
It had felt like so long since anyone just knew anything about April, and while she was trying to get used to a more private and insular life, she’d missed this so much—eyebrows lifted, mouths pursed, feet tapping feet under the table.
This nonverbal language she and Ramona had been speaking for nearly twenty-five years.
“I need the bathroom,” April said abruptly. She couldn’t wait any longer. She needed to tell Ramona now—she might burst if she didn’t, or dissolve right there, Daphne’s warm thigh creating a giddy feeling in the center of her chest, growing every second. “Ramona, come with me?”
“Oh,” Ramona said, glancing at Dylan. “Actually, can we order first?”
April frowned but nodded. Of course, she didn’t want to be rude. Didn’t want to hold up the table if they were hungry. Plus, if she ordered now, her desserts might be ready by the time she got back.
She’d text Ramona.
Probably easier to type it all out anyway, then she and Ramona wouldn’t have to waste time with facts. They could go straight to holy shit.
She got her phone out of her pocket and tapped on her messages while Sasha and Dylan talked about the science of making pie crust. April’s fingers hovered over her text thread with Ramona.
She’d just started to tap out the naked truth about the kiss when a notification for her email popped into view.
She heard a few dings around the dining room at the same time, but didn’t register why until she tapped on the notification—more to clear it than anything—and found herself looking at a Google alert for Ramona.
She hadn’t received one of these in several weeks, had mostly forgotten that she’d even set one to begin with.
The alert included a single link to a PopSugar article.
April tapped on the link, and her browser bloomed to life, along with an innocuous headline about Dylan heading east for the summer.
But as April scanned the short article, posted just minutes ago according to the byline, everything in her froze.
After wrapping work on the Marlene Dietrich biopic that’s already garnering Oscar buzz in postproduction, Dylan Monroe and her partner, Ramona Riley, set their sights east, back to where it all began.
They’ll be summering in Clover Lake, New Hampshire, where the couple originally met as adorable preteens, then again seventeen years later while Dylan filmed the romantic comedy As If You Didn’t Know two years ago, but sources close to the couple say this isn’t just a vacation.
We might soon be hearing the distant chime of wedding bells in a small, intimate ceremony, purportedly at Dylan and Ramona’s private Clover Lake home.
Oh, to be a mosquito tangled in Ramona’s tulle skirt on that blessed day. #DylonaForever
April blinked. Then refreshed the page, hoping it would change, disappear, literally melt the phone in her hands. Anything but what she was seeing.
“Apes, what is it?” Ramona asked.
April just swallowed, tears already blooming.
This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen.
This news. This moment in Ramona’s life.
April wasn’t supposed to learn about it through a Google alert.
Through a fucking celebrity gossip site, no less.
And it certainly wasn’t supposed to be accompanied by a sudden swell of hurt tangled up with secrets and distance.
Of course April knew the engagement was coming.
Even welcomed it, because Ramona was happy, and April loved Dylan.
The announcement was supposed to be joyous and thunderous and followed by April and Olive dragging Ramona out for florescent-colored shots at Four Leaf, the only bar in Clover Lake, while they ogled the ring and let Ramona wax on about the wedding dress she was going to design.
But this…this felt like a punch in the gut.
April swallowed hard, trying to get herself under control before she said anything. The dining room, however, had gone oddly quiet, whispers floating on the air. Patrons looked down at their phones, then shifted their eyes to Ramona and Dylan.
Looked like April wasn’t the only one with a Google alert for Clover Lake’s favorite daughter.
“What the hell is happening right now?” Dylan asked, looking around while everyone glanced at her. But she had to know. She’d been at this too long not to. She released an annoyed breath. “Ah, shit. Babe.”
“What?” Ramona asked, pushing herself up in the booth to look around.
April glanced at Ramona’s left hand pressed against the table for leverage, but her ring finger was bare.
“So where is it?” April asked, her voice shaking. She knew she should shut up. Shut up, and get up, because this wasn’t how this was supposed to happen.
“Where’s what?” Ramona asked, settling back into the booth.
“Ramona,” Dylan said, staring down at her own phone now.
Finally, Merrit Connolly, a woman in her sixties who had taught both April and Ramona social studies in middle school, broke the spell. She lifted her milkshake into the air, calling out to Ramona and Dylan from her table with her husband, Dale, by the window. “Congratulations, you two!”
A chorus of well-wishes echoed through the room, glasses lifted in cheers. Dylan waved demurely, but Ramona was staring at April, a stricken expression on her face. “Apes.”
“Didn’t Dylan get you a ring?” April asked.
For some reason, that was all she could think about, all she could focus on.
This secret ring Ramona had had for who knew how many days already, the ring she wasn’t wearing specifically so April wouldn’t see it, most likely vintage and beautiful and unique, just like Ramona.
Daphne and Sasha were awkwardly silent, but Daphne set a hand on April’s leg, and that single, gentle touch forced air into April’s tight lungs. She grabbed Daphne’s hand, tangling their fingers together, and Daphne let her hold on as tight as she needed.
Because Ramona was getting married.
Married.
To the love of her life.
After all Ramona had done, sacrificed, worked for.
And April couldn’t ruin that now.
So she took a deep breath, kept hold of Daphne’s hand. “Let me see it,” she said to her best friend. Her words came out wobbly, a little watery, but she said them. She said them with a smile, with her eyes shining and her heart beating regularly—if a bit quickly—in her chest.
Ramona watched her for a second, wary.
Dylan curled her arms around Ramona’s shoulders and nudged her. “Show her,” she said softly, then pressed a kiss to Ramona’s temple.
Goddess, they were sweet.
Dylan was sweet. She’d been a bit of a mess when she and Ramona had gotten together, but as far as April could tell, she was rock solid now. She was good for Ramona. Made Ramona smile.
And that was all that mattered.
Ramona swallowed, then pulled her bag into her lap.
It was the same gray canvas bag with red mushrooms printed all over it that Olive had given her years ago.
Inexplicably, April latched on to that pattern, familiar and tried-and-true, eyes locked on the illustrated fungus while Ramona sifted through the bag.
She pulled out a small rainbow-colored pouch, Read Banned Books written across the front.
After she unzipped it, she plucked a ring from inside, smiling down at it as she slipped it on her finger.
She held out her hand.
April gripped Daphne’s palm with one hand, her other trembling only slightly as she held Ramona’s fingers.
The ring was lovely, just as April knew it would be. Understated, even. A round jewel sat on a simple gold band surrounded by a half-moon of tiny diamonds. The jewel itself was the color of mint, with darker green swirling inside.
“Is that moss agate?” Daphne asked.
Ramona nodded. “I love how natural and unique it looks.”
“It’s gorgeous,” Sasha said.
“How did it happen?” April finally asked, and Ramona and Dylan proceeded to tell a story about the Griffith Observatory in LA—which was where Dylan had professed her love for Ramona two years ago—and a star-packed sky, not another soul in sight because Dylan had arranged to bring Ramona at midnight, after the observatory had closed to the public.
“It was amazing,” Ramona said, leaning into Dylan. “I had no idea what was happening. Even when this one started crying and pulled a ring out of her pocket.”
Dylan grinned, her cheeks a little pink. “Best night of my life.”
April listened and smiled, her heart in her throat. “When?” she asked, even though it didn’t matter. Shouldn’t matter, at least.
Ramona grew serious, cleared her throat. “Three nights ago.”
Daphne’s thumb rubbed across April’s. She managed a nod, a smile, could feel the corner of the Hanged One card pricking against her stomach.
She wasn’t the Hanged One right now though.
No, this moment wasn’t suspended in limbo, wasn’t waiting for anything.
This felt more like the Wheel of Fortune, destiny spinning onward, with or without April’s say or knowledge.
“I wanted to tell you in person,” Ramona said quickly.
“We don’t want a big wedding. Just family and a few friends at the end of the summer.
Dylan and I had the time off, and Olive is due home this weekend, so we decided to come home too.
I wanted to tell you earlier today at Cloverwild, but… it just…You were…”
She trailed off, and April felt herself nodding again, still a bit numb.
“We told my dad earlier tonight,” Ramona went on. “I’m sorry, Apes, I don’t know how PopSugar got the information.”
“How they always get it,” Dylan said, but no one asked what that meant. April assumed it was about money and Hollywood insiders or some shit she didn’t care about right now.
“It’s okay,” April said. The right thing to say.
“Honey,” Ramona said softly, as though she wasn’t buying it, but April needed her to. She needed the way she was holding herself together right now to count, to be worth the effort.
“We should celebrate,” she said, an idea occurring to her. “An engagement dinner. Family, friends.”
“I can help cook, if you want,” Sasha said.
“Yes, perfect,” April said, sending a grateful smile toward Sasha.
Under normal circumstances, Sasha and Daphne probably wouldn’t come to an intimate engagement dinner, but April knew she wanted them both there, including Sasha’s amateur chef skills.
“We can have it at our house,” Dylan said. “Right, babe?”
“Of course,” Ramona said, but she was still watching April.
“Great,” April said brightly, then lifted her glass of water. She still had no milkshake, no pie, no center of gravity. “To the happy couple.”
“To Ramona and Dylan,” Daphne and Sasha echoed—along with a few nearby patrons—and lifted their water glasses as well.
“It’s bad luck to toast with water,” Sasha mumbled under her breath, but April ignored her. She ignored the clench in her stomach and the sting behind her eyes, and she lifted her fucking water glass to the happy couple.