Chapter 9
Shay
Students will be able to be the hostess with the most-est problems.
Exactly four weeks after packing up my life, leaving the safety of Jaime’s couch, and taking up residence in Lollie’s home, I welcomed my first houseguests.
Jaime, Audrey, Emme, and Grace rolled down the gravel lane on Friday afternoon and they tumbled out of Audrey’s hybrid SUV like they’d been trapped in the car for hours.
Emme charged into the house as she yelled, “Bathroom, please,” and Grace followed her, two reusable shopping bags in hand as she said, “Refrigerator, please.”
Audrey pushed her sunglasses up, surveying the house and land in that quiet, all-seeing way of hers. “So this is your dowry.”
“It’s not a dowry,” I said, rushing over to hug her.
Jaime stepped in front of her, arms outstretched. “As I live and breathe, Miss Zucconi, you are a sight for sore eyes.” She crushed me in a fierce embrace, teetering from side to side as she hummed happily. “And you look alive! At least mostly alive. And you have a farm!”
We separated enough for Jaime to wave a hand at my sundress. It was too hot for anything else.
“And you’re wearing clean clothes. It looks like your hair has been washed and—what’s this? Do I spy a bit of bronzer?”
“That’s real,” I said. “Bronzer straight from the sun.”
“You’ve been outdoors,” Jaime crowed. “Who knew country air could be so good for a girl?”
Audrey elbowed her way in for a hug. “You look good, sweetheart. I’m glad you’ve been able to get back to yourself.” She gestured to the fields and gardens beyond the house. “This is adorable.”
“Yeah, we had no idea there were such cute towns around here. Especially after driving through a living history museum of the Industrial Revolution to get here,” Emme said as she came down the front steps. “Sorry about the entrance. You know my bladder is ridiculous.”
“It really is, Em,” Grace said, joining us outside. “She was not going to make it down another bumpy old road.” She tucked her silky black hair behind her ears and glanced around. “Shay, with love, where the fuck are we right now?”
“Semirural coastal Rhode Island.” I waved toward the gardens. “And this is my step-grandmother’s tulip farm.”
“And isn’t it charming.” Emme leaned in close. “Do you want to come home yet? Because we can pack you up today and forget this ever happened.”
I laughed, shook my head. I’d missed my people. “Is this a rescue mission?”
Jaime gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes.
“What ever happened to playing it cool, y’all?
” She draped an arm around my shoulders.
“If you want to be rescued, we’ll rescue you.
If you’re still cosplaying as a small-town girl, we’ll play along with you for the weekend.
” She motioned to her overall shorts. “I came dressed for my part.”
Audrey set a wide-brimmed floppy hat over her white-blonde hair. “Me too.”
Grace, dressed in slim black jeans and a black tank top, crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll be the person who spends the next three days in search of decent coffee. Thank god I brought backup cold brew.”
“And I brought blondies,” Emme added.
“They’ll go perfectly with the margarita slushies and chicken fajitas I made.” There was no need for me to add to this by noting it was the first meal I’d prepared since moving in.
“Is that a tire swing?” Jaime asked, pointing toward one of the giant old beech trees.
“And a hammock?” Audrey asked.
“Two of each,” I said. “Two of everything. Twin sisters built this place and I don’t get the impression they liked to share.”
Jaime stamped a sandalled foot on the walkway. “Yes! That’s the folksy shit I want out of this weekend.”
“Come on,” I said, laughing. “You can drop your stuff inside. I don’t want this to be a shock but the place is mostly empty.
I cleared out Target’s air mattresses this morning so you won’t be roughing it too hard but my step-grandmother went through a Swedish Death Cleaning phase before she moved to Florida.
She left only the bare basics. I haven’t added much. ”
“Okay, so you’re sounding less alive now,” Jaime said.
“It’s all right. I promise. And I’m not rattling around here alone. There are spirits everywhere. The twins, of course. They never leave. I talk to myself all the time so it’s nice to have them listening. Also, I chat with at least three or four ghosts every night.”
They all stared at me and then each other for several seconds.
“Oh, honey.” Audrey pressed her fingers to her lips.
“Great,” Emme drawled.
“She’s fucking with us,” Grace said.
I burst out laughing.
“Too soon,” Audrey said with a sharp slice of her hand. “We are not ready for that kind of humor from you.”
Jaime gave a slow shake of her head. “Don’t test me. I’m stronger than I look and I can wrestle your ass into that car. Just try me.”
“No ghosts. No spirits. None that have found me interesting enough to haunt, at least,” I said, still laughing. “And I told you, I see my neighbors. I’m tutoring the little girl at the farm next door.”
“And this girl is alive? You’re certain you aren’t tutoring a ghost?” Grace asked.
“How weird is it to say the farm next door ,” Emme mused.
“Probably less weird when you haven’t spent your entire life in a city,” Audrey replied.
“Great, great,” Emme said. “Can I have a margarita yet? I’d like that to occur soon, and if possible, I’d like it to occur while I’m on the hammock and before Shay pops off with some more concerning comments.”
* * *
“And that’s why I won’t cut pineapple anymore,” Jaime said. “That little spike from the woody part was in my finger for an entire week and I could barely wash my hair without making it worse so I didn’t go out with him.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” I pushed my sunglasses up and craned my neck to stare at Jaime in the tire swing. “How many people are you dating now?”
“I wouldn’t call it dating. It’s not dating, not the way we usually think of dating.” She held up one finger. “There’s Andre and Honora and Sire—”
“That name,” Emme said. “The volumes it speaks.”
“—and sometimes Hardy.”
“That’s just made up,” Audrey said.
“Nope, I had a Hardy at my last school,” Grace said. “Hardy Woodruff. That kid had no idea what he was in for.”
“—and Clara and Meena, sometimes, but I’m definitely not dating them. More like getting time with them.”
“Wood-ruff,” Audrey said with a snort. That was how you could tell she was tipsy. All her pristine mannerisms and polite, polished facade crumbled, and she snorted at dick jokes.
“And by ‘getting time’ you mean you’re the little spoon in a party-sized cutlery basket,” I said.
“That happened once,” Jaime cried. “It’s usually me and just two or three other people.”
“Just two or three other people,” Grace repeated. “That’s all.”
“I have come to accept that sex with one person is not interesting or fulfilling to me,” Jaime replied. “Two is my minimum right now. I can do two if one is watching, maybe doing stuff nearby, but I prefer the two to be hands-on.”
Audrey laugh-hiccupped. “Like, knitting a scarf? What do you mean, doing stuff nearby? Folding laundry? What? I know I’m outing myself as a plain vanilla Jane but you have me curious. A little confused too.”
Audrey had the wonderful gift of being able to ask questions that would sound insulting or possibly aggressive coming from someone else, but she spoke with the right amount of vulnerability and authentic desire to understand others.
Rare was it that anyone received one of her questions with offense, even if her phrasing was blunt.
I loved that about her. Every time I tried to emulate it, I failed spectacularly.
Audrey and I were the closest in age of our group.
She was another thirtysomething while the others were closer to late twenties, all of us within five years or so of each other.
Jaime was the baby at twenty-eight. I’d met her six years ago when I started teaching at my school back in Boston.
We clicked immediately. If I’d met her in a nail salon or at a party or any random place, I would’ve claimed her as a friend.
That we worked together came as an added bonus.
Emme and Grace met in teachers’ college. They lived together in a messy sublet situation where their rent was due in cash and had to be delivered to a little grocery store in Charlestown. But their place was really cheap and located in the heart of the North End, not far from Jaime.
If I hadn’t worked across the hall from those two, I doubt we’d have found each other.
They were different from me and Jaime. Their humor bit harder, their smiles were darker, their vibes were more intense.
And somehow it worked for me. Grace’s black-on-black style and Emme’s cynicism were necessary nutrients in my daily diet.
I never would’ve met Audrey because she was as silent as a shadow.
If it hadn’t been for Emme dragging her to our group lunches around the half-moon table in Grace’s classroom every day, I’d have filed her away as someone who kept to herself and preferred some distance from her colleagues.
But there was a deep blue ocean underneath that quiet surface of hers.
She was the strongest of us five, in every possible way, and there was more connection in ten minutes of her sitting beside you in silence than a day with anyone else.
“It’s okay, honey,” Jaime said. “I am the most confused. I just named six people. There’s no way I can keep them all straight.” She belted out a laugh. “Maybe that’s the point. Nothing about us is straight.”
“As long as you’re happy,” Audrey said, “and safe.”
“All of the above,” Jaime said.
“I don’t think we’ve covered how this started,” Emme said from the tire swing. “Or if we have, I forgot. When did it end with that last person?”