Chapter Seventeen
Julia
Two years later
“Is it just me, or are the crabs getting smaller?”
A single claw dangles from between my fingers, and I inspect it, wondering how there’s any meat inside. I toss it back on the pile and frown. They have to be at least a quarter less in size than they have been in the previous years.
Chloe snags one and places it in front of her, clearly unbothered, and cracks into it. “Well, yeah, I mean, it makes sense, what with the increase in habitat loss and predation and all. And don’t even get me started on climate change.”
Brian takes a swig from his bottle of Corona and eyes the pile suspiciously. “You think climate change is affecting the size of crabs?”
Chloe nods and swirls a small chunk of claw meat into a bowl of melted butter.
“Yeah, I know it is. Environmental Studies grad and all. Go Hokies,” she adds and pops the saturated piece of crab meat into her mouth.
She looks over my shoulder, her eyes wide with excitement.
“Oh, the Pestanos are here. Mason, you stud, come sit by me.”
Brian and I turn in time to see Mason leading the way through the back gate ahead of his mom and Richard. Lina isn’t a Pestano anymore, deciding to take Richard’s last name, but that doesn’t stop us from referring to them all as such.
Once they close the gate behind them, my stomach drops a little. I knew Alex wasn’t coming—she hasn’t for the past two years—but still, the single thread of hope I held on to that she would surprise us all by showing instantly evaporates.
Mason meets me for a hug and squeezes. We both hold on a little longer than usual, and I wonder if perhaps he’s missing his sister just a little extra today as well.
Chloe swoops in next, stepping in front of Brian’s offered hand, and Mason does his best to accommodate both the hug and the handshake.
He flashes a grin in my direction, a smile identical to Alex’s, and my chest hurts just a little more.
She’s still somehow everywhere, even when she’s oceans away.
Once the piles of crabs are gone and we’ve helped clean up, Mason and I race toward the swing set with Chloe hot on our heels.
Brian stays behind, questions about investments from my dad and Richard too strong a pull to resist. We’re both numbers people—it’s how we met and all—but things like the stock value and dividend yields and market capitalization just don’t hold much of an interest for me.
“Does anyone else hear the word “invest” and just automatically tune out?” Chloe asks.
Mason and I both raise our hands while continuing to swing.
Chloe lies back so she’s stretched out across the slide, her usual spot, and rubs at her stomach. “I’m so full. I don’t think I left room for dessert.”
Mason and I share a knowing look. “Rookie mistake,” he teases.
As we swing, my gaze lands on my mom’s peonies. They’re in full bloom, thriving in the early June sun. I have to remember to smell them, maybe cut a few to fill my vase back at my apartment. Another reminder of Alex.
“It feels weird,” I say quietly, more so to myself than anyone else, “Alex not being here.”
“She’s still coming home for Christmas, right?” Chloe asks.
“She’ll be here for Christmas,” Mason confirms. “Even if I have to go to London and bring her back myself.”
But he shouldn’t have to. She should want to come home. She should want to be here.
And Christmas is so far away. Like, another six months.
I try not to think about all the other traditions she continues to miss.
Like our summer beach trips and long days spent by the pool.
Summer baseball games and the Fourth of July.
I know flying back and forth is expensive, and I know I haven’t been out to see her nearly as much as I would’ve liked with school and graduation and jobs, but it all just sucks.
I miss my best friend.
Laugher rings out from across the yard, and I watch as Brian uses the bottle opener on his keychain to open another beer for Richard before diving back into an animated conversation. His outward excitement and passion makes me smile.
“Brian asked me to move in with him.”
Mason’s legs stop moving, and his swinging instantly slows.
I was going to wait and tell them later, once we’ve cut into the cake and pulled out the wine.
Once the sun has set and we are full and happy and tired.
But the words tumble past my lips, and I hold my breath, wondering if I should’ve tried harder to stop them from spilling out.
For a split second, everything pauses. There are no birds chirping. There is no breeze. Just the squeaking of my swing and the nervous beating of my heart. I shouldn’t be anxious about their reaction, but I am.
Chloe shifts on the slide so she’s facing me. “Isn’t his place, like, a lot farther from campus?”
I grip the chains of the swing and twist from side to side. “Yeah, but I don’t go there every day, so it’s fine.”
Mason drags his feet to come to a stop, and I notice the silent exchange between him and Chloe. “What’s with the look? Why are you both being weird?”
Chloe’s hands fly up in a defensive posture. “I’m not being weird. I think it’s awesome that you and Brian are ready to take that next step.” I narrow my eyes because I’m not sure I believe her. She squints back.
Mason gently touches my arm to get my attention. “I just can’t believe you’re moving out before I do.”
And that’s just like him to defuse a tense situation before it gets too hot. To make himself Switzerland and guide us into safer, nicer territory. It’s not the first time he’s used kindness to redirect, and even though I know what he’s doing, it works.
“To be fair, you have a pretty nice setup at home, and I was in a shoebox with paper-thin walls and a neighbor who loves polka music.”
“And now you get to live a life of luxury,” Chloe says with a cheeky smile.
We stare at each other again. Another silent game of “what are you trying to prove here,” with Mason sighing heavily in the middle. It must be exhausting brokering for peace all the time.
Brian chooses that moment to walk over, his beer in one hand and the other shoved deep inside his light pink chino shorts. Chloe nods in his direction as if to say, “See, he comes from money.”
I roll my eyes. I’m not moving in with him because his family has money. I’m moving in with him because that’s what two people in love do. They live together. They build a life together. He makes me happy, and I want this.
“What are you all talking about?”
Chloe directs her overly sweet smile to him. “How Jules is about to invade your space and clog your drains with her hair.”
Brian’s smile slips, and he glances at me, confused.
“I told them we’re moving in together.”
His smile returns, and he walks over to me, standing close and giving me a push on the swing. “It’s going to be great. No more overnight bags or constant takeout.”
“So you learned how to cook?” Chloe asks. I glare at her again.
Brian clears his throat. “Ah, no. Still lacking in that particular skill.”
I close my eyes. This is not going how I thought it would. Although now that I think about it, I wasn’t exactly sure how it would go. Certainly not “Let’s give Jules crap for dating someone who has money and who can’t cook.”
“I think they offer classes at the community college,” Mason offers after a beat.
Brian takes a swig of his beer. “I’ll look into that.”
I pump my legs and swing as high as I can. Telling Chloe and Mason was supposed to be easy. I was hoping for congratulations and excitement and decorating ideas, I suppose. Not whatever this is.
“It’s great, you two. Honestly,” Mason says at the same time Chloe asks, “Have you told Alex yet?”
“I think Julia was going to call her later this weekend,” Brian says.
“Well, Julia,” Chloe says, “please let us know how that goes.”
I sigh and ignore the pointed comment. Mainly because I already know how Alex will react. She’ll pretend to be happy, maybe make a joke, tell me her congrats, and find an excuse to end the call.
Mason and Chloe exchange another look.
I grip the swings chains even tighter and close my eyes, imagining I’m anywhere else but the playground in my parents’ backyard.
Instead, I close my eyes like I did when I was seven years old and pretend that I’m flying.
I’ve spent the last couple of hours hunched over my laptop, furiously trying to polish up this paper.
I’m not one to procrastinate, but my part-time job mixed with grad school and trying to keep up some sort of social life has finally caught up to me.
My assignment is due in two weeks, and I’ve barely put a dent in it.
It’s not how I envisioned spending my twenty-third birthday, but here I am.
Tugging my cardigan a little tighter over my shoulders, I glance out the window to stare at the flurries that decided to make an unexpected appearance.
February snow is not uncommon, but by now I’m usually over it, ready for the warmer weather and the flowers to reemerge and brighten the bleak and barren city landscape.
It doesn’t help that Brian’s apartment is frigid, matching the cold on the other side of the window.
It’s been almost eight months of living here, and I still can’t seem to shake the constant chill.
I think about making something warm to drink, but there really isn’t a point.
Especially since I have to stop in a few minutes to get ready for a birthday dinner outing that I did not ask for, nor do I want to attend.
I’d much rather be curled up on the couch under a cozy blanket with a hot cup of tea and a good book.
Instead, I’ll be squeezing myself into a new dress and freezing my ass off while I make small talk with Brian’s parents over an expensive meal that probably costs as much as my portion of the monthly rent.