Chapter 2 #2
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Lara said.
“Likewise,” Carolina replied. “Which means we’re either already friends or about to have a very efficient mutual assessment.”
Lara laughed. “I respect that.”
Noah appeared behind Lara with a bowl of chips. “Please don’t assess anyone until I’ve finished dinner.”
“You’re always under assessment, Greenwood,” Carolina said, taking the bowl from him. “You just don’t always notice.”
“Comforting.”
“It shouldn’t be.”
The evening should have been easy. In many ways, it was.
They ordered pizza and opened the prosecco.
Noah and Carolina bickered about whether the wedding should have a seating chart or “natural social consequences.” Lara was funny, charming, and careful not to dominate.
She asked Carolina questions about work, remembered details Ella must have mentioned, and complimented her earrings in a way specific enough to be sincere.
Still, Ella began to notice Carolina watching.
When Lara refilled Noah’s glass without asking, Carolina saw it.
When Lara reminded Ella that the florist needed final approval by Friday, Carolina saw that too.
When Noah said, “Where did we put the tasting contract?” and Lara answered, “Second tab in the binder, left pocket,” before Ella could, Carolina’s eyebrows lifted by a millimeter.
Ella waited until Noah went upstairs to take a work call and Lara stepped into the kitchen to rinse plates before she nudged Carolina’s ankle beneath the table.
“Stop,” Ella whispered.
Carolina widened her eyes in exaggerated innocence. “Stop what?”
“Doing your face.”
“This is my face. My mother paid a lot for orthodontia to support this face.”
“You know what I mean.”
Carolina sipped prosecco. “How long is she staying?”
“A few days.”
“It’s been a week.”
“That is several days. She’s looking for places.”
“Actively?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know that because she’s told you, or because you’ve seen her do it?”
Ella frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means I asked a question.”
“It sounded like a cross-examination.”
“Take it how you will.”
Ella glanced toward the kitchen. Lara was rinsing plates, her back to them, humming softly under her breath. She looked comfortable, yes, but not presumptuous. Just useful. Just trying not to be a burden.
“She’s had a horrible breakup,” Ella said quietly. “She’s trying to be helpful because she feels bad for being here.”
“Maybe.”
“Carolina.”
“What? I said maybe.”
“You’re implying something.”
“I’m observing.” Carolina leaned back, lowering her voice. “She knows a lot about your house.”
“She’s been staying here.”
“For a week.”
“Yes. People can learn where plates are in a week.”
“Can they learn the second tab, left pocket location of the tasting contract?”
Ella looked toward the sideboard, where the wedding binder sat with its pastel dividers. Lara had organized it two nights earlier after Ella had made an offhand comment about wanting to sort vendor paperwork. Lara had been restless. Ella had been tired. It had seemed practical.
“She helped with organizing the binder.”
“Mmm.”
“Do not mmm at me.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You said mmm with judgement.”
Carolina’s expression softened. “I’m not saying she’s done anything wrong.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying she’s very good at finding the center of a room.”
Ella laughed a little despite herself. “That sounds like something you’d say about a politician.”
“Or a theater kid.”
“Lara’s not a theater kid.”
“Everybody is a theater kid under sufficient pressure.”
Ella rolled her eyes. “She is Noah’s oldest friend. She’s heartbroken. And she is trying to repay us in the only way she can.”
Carolina held up one hand. “Okay.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“I believe you believe you.”
“That’s worse.”
“It’s not. It means you’re kind. I like that about you.” Carolina’s gaze moved briefly toward the kitchen again.
From the kitchen, Lara laughed at something Noah said as he came downstairs, his phone call apparently over. It was a warm laugh. Easy. Noah said something too low to hear, and Lara laughed again.
Ella looked toward the sound and saw nothing strange.
Noah stood at the sink with his sleeves pushed up, taking plates from Lara to load into the dishwasher. Lara bumped him lightly with her hip to make him move aside because he was doing it wrong. He bumped her back, harmlessly, automatically, and took the plate anyway.
A brother-sister thing, Ella thought.
Old friends.
Family.
Carolina’s gaze slid to Ella.
“Don’t,” Ella said.
“I didn’t.”
“You’re thinking loudly.”
Ella stood and collected empty glasses from the table with a little more force than necessary. “Help me pick shower shoes.”
Carolina stood too, but as she passed Ella, she murmured, “I’m on your side even when you don’t need me to be.”
Ella’s irritation softened despite herself.
“I know.”
Upstairs, they spread shoe options across Ella and Noah’s bed. Carolina had brought four pairs, which she described as acceptable, interesting, illegal, and “for when you finally admit beige is not your color.”
Ella tried on the beige pair and stood in front of the mirror.
“They’re cute,” she said.
“They are. Unfortunately, they also say, ‘I have a potluck in the church basement.’”
“I’m getting married. That’s the vibe.”
“You’re marrying Noah. That’s at least one questionable decision.”
“Noah is wonderful.”
“Noah is wonderful because you’re marrying him. Men are heavily improved by female context.”
Ella laughed and kicked off the shoes.
From downstairs came the muffled sounds of Noah and Lara in the kitchen. Water running. A cabinet closing. Lara’s voice, then Noah’s laugh.
Carolina looked at the bedroom door.
“Stop,” Ella said again, though more weakly this time.
Carolina turned back to her. “You really like her.”
“I do.”
“Okay.”
Ella folded her arms. “She’s nice.”
Carolina sat on the edge of the bed, surrounded by shoes. “People always think the only dangerous ones are the ones you hate on sight. But the ones you like can get closer.”
“Lara is not dangerous.”
“I didn’t say she was.”
“You implied it.”
“I implied she’s comfortable here.”
“She needs comfort.”
“Those are different things.”
Ella stared at her best friend, torn between annoyance and the reluctant knowledge that Carolina was not often wrong about people.
She was too blunt, occasionally unfair, and once spent three months insisting Ella’s ex-boyfriend had “the energy of a man who would correct a waiter’s pronunciation of gnocchi,” which had turned out to be both cruel and prophetic.
But this felt different.
Maybe because Ella did like Lara.
Maybe because Noah loved Lara, and Ella loved Noah, and therefore there had to be room for both.
She wanted there to be room. She wanted to be generous without becoming suspicious.
She wanted to trust the home she and Noah had made enough that another person’s sadness could pass through it without altering its foundations.
“She’s not trying to take anything from me,” Ella said.
Carolina’s expression gentled. “Ok.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is. I hope you’re right.”
Downstairs, something shattered.
Both women startled.
Ella was out the bedroom door first, Carolina behind her. They hurried down the stairs to find Lara standing frozen in the kitchen, one hand pressed to her mouth, glass glittering across the floor.
Noah was beside her, barefoot.
“Don’t move,” Ella said sharply.
Noah looked down at his feet, then took a careful step back onto the rug.
“I’m so sorry,” Lara said. Her face had gone white. “It slipped. I don’t know why I?—”
“It’s fine.” Ella grabbed the broom from the pantry. “No one move.”
“It was your blue glass,” Lara said.
Ella paused.
The blue glass was not expensive. It had come from a set of four, and one had already cracked in the dishwasher six months ago. Still, it was one of the glasses she liked. Thick blown glass with tiny bubbles trapped inside, bought from a market on the trip where Noah had proposed.
Lara looked stricken. “Ella, I’m so sorry. I reached for it because I thought it was pretty, and then my hand just?—”
“It’s okay,” Ella said.
Noah touched Lara’s shoulder. “It’s just a glass.”