Chapter 12 #2
“Hey,” Jack said, tipping my chin up to look at him. “You don’t have to beat yourself up about that. It’s behind you, right?”
I nodded, forcing away all the tangled what-ifs. All the things that could have gone wrong that night. The way I’d been reckless with my safety.
“What can I get you and your troublemakers over there?” he asked, making me smile.
His finger was still under my chin, making it hard to concentrate for a completely different reason. “A round of champagne to celebrate the birthday girl, please.”
“I’ll bring it over. You go have fun.” His thumb swiped my chin softly before he released me to my friends.
Drinks and discussion continued amid lots of laughter. Kayla brought out Chloe’s cake and served it while we sang “Happy Birthday.” The tourists at nearby tables joined in, and a few even sent drinks over for us as the celebration went on.
A while later, Candace checked her watch and did her best to call everyone to order.
She let us know that for our next meeting we would be reading a very popular romance book that had recently been adapted into a movie.
We were planning to have our monthly book club discussion and then go see the movie together in November.
Joan groaned. “I think I’ll sit this one out.”
“What? Why?” Becca asked.
“Yeah, it has that hot guy in it playing the lead,” Mac said diplomatically. “What’s his name?”
“Dorian Masters,” Chloe supplied.
“Yesss,” Candace said. “He is hot. Come on, Joanie. It’ll be fun.”
Her sister rolled her eyes. “I do not have time for some pretty-boy movie star who’s just going to ruin one of the greatest romance heroes of all time.”
Larry and Mac booed while Becca tried her best to cajole Joan into going.
Eventually, Candace drew our attention her way again. “Okay, two more announcements.” Then she seemed to hesitate before a huge grin took over her face. We all quieted and waited expectantly. “Mark proposed! We’re getting married in December at the orchard. We don’t want to wait.”
Our group erupted again with well-wishes and delight.
Larry hooted when Candace showed us the ring, which she was wearing on a chain around her neck until it could be sized.
Becca was teary with happiness. Joan had a soft expression on her face while she watched her sister. And I was so very glad for my friend.
Candace and Mark Mercer were going to be ridiculously happy together.
More champagne arrived, and we toasted the happy couple.
I didn’t really hear Candace’s second announcement because I got distracted.
I watched as Chloe clinked her glass with everyone before placing the flute down on the table without taking a drink.
I frowned as she gave Larry, who was seated beside her, a gentle nudge with her elbow.
The other woman reached out, quick as a flash, and snagged the glass before downing the contents.
She gave Chloe a subtle wink as she put the empty flute back in front of her.
Chloe returned the gesture with a grateful smile.
I forced my gaze away before anyone realized.
It wasn’t my intention to make Chloe feel awkward or obligated to share if she wasn’t ready.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Chloe wasn’t pregnant, but it was the first thing that came to mind after witnessing her behavior.
I couldn’t remember seeing her drink anything besides water tonight, come to think of it.
If my suspicions were true, she and Jordan would be amazing parents. And I was happy for my friend.
So I couldn’t figure out why the knowledge settled like a stone in my chest. Excited chatter continued around the table, but I couldn’t focus.
It seemed that so much was changing. Our little group was evolving.
Larry was dating someone seriously for the first time in her life.
Mac and Brady were nearly inseparable. Now, Candace and Mercer were getting married.
From the looks of things, a baby would be on the way soon for Jordan and Chloe.
And I’d changed too, hadn’t I?
I was divorced and starting over.
For so long, I’d been the only one of my friends in a committed relationship. I’d assumed the role of married woman. Being the responsible one, arranging events, giving advice, and planning celebrations.
Now I was single again, and miles away from where I expected to be at this point in my life. So far away, in fact, that I felt like I was going backward instead of forward.
“I’m going to get some more drinks,” I said, standing abruptly.
I didn’t even wait for anyone to respond. I just walked to the bar, eager for an escape and overwhelmed by my conflicting emotions.
I jolted when a hand reached for my elbow.
“Sorry!” Candace said immediately. “You took off so fast. I wanted to ask if you’d like to be a bridesmaid, but .
. .” She wavered, and I hated myself a little more for making my friend feel the need to hesitate, to ration her happiness because I was such a damn mess.
“I was worried. I didn’t want you to feel weird or obligated. ”
“Of course I’ll be a bridesmaid,” I gushed, so touched and honored that she wanted me by her side on her big day.
“It’s not weird, and I would never feel obligated.
You and Mercer deserve to be happy, and I want to be there to celebrate with you,” I told her honestly as I reached out and pulled her into a fierce hug.
“You’re going to be the most beautiful bride. I can already see it.”
Candace leaned back, eyes shining with happiness. “Thanks, Bonnie. And thanks for saying yes.”
Emotion threatened. I smiled, grateful that my friend had found someone so worthy of her love. Mercer was a good man. She was safe with him. Safe to build a life together, a marriage and a family. Something that would last.
She squeezed my arm gently before heading back the way she’d come.
I took a deep breath and faced the bar, telling myself to put one foot in front of the other.
I hated feeling like this. It was weak and pathetic to be . . . I didn’t even want to think the word.
Jealous.
I was jealous of my friends—people I loved.
How could I be both happy for them and envious at the same time? It was proof that I was a terrible person. That I couldn’t just celebrate with everyone else. That I’d felt compelled to get away.
Jack caught sight of me right away, and whatever he read on my face had him frowning.
“Hey,” he said, rounding the bar and coming toward me. “What happened?”
I had no idea what to say. Shame kept my tongue glued to the roof of my mouth.
Jack’s hazel eyes watched me worriedly. But I wasn’t in danger of having an anxiety attack. This was a different sort of breakdown.
I felt weary, in my heart, down to my bones. And so damn disappointed in myself.
“Bonnie,” he tried again, voice soft and coaxing. “What do you need?”
There it was again. That question. Need versus want. Jack’s choice of words might not have made a difference to him, but it meant something to me.
“I just need a minute,” I eventually got out.
He glanced briefly toward our table before focusing on me. Then he held out a hand.
I laced our fingers together and let him lead me toward the back of the bar, past high-top tables and a row of booths. We entered a hallway. A door on the left marked the men’s room, while a doorway was open on the right.
Inside, there was a small foyer with dark wallpaper in black-and-gold geometric patterns. A door on the far side was for the women’s restroom, while the door closest to us was labeled “Powder Room.”
Jack tugged me toward the powder room and, once he’d noted it was empty, guided me inside and closed the door behind us. He removed a ring of keys from his pocket, locking the door from the inside.
It was quiet, the change in location enough to have my shoulders relaxing. There was a long counter beneath a mirror. Baskets of products occupied the space as well as a vase of flowers, boxes of tissues, and bottles of lotion. Two couches lined adjacent walls with a low footstool in between.
“What is this place?” I asked as I ran a hand across the soft upholstery of the couch.
Jack shifted uncomfortably, drawing my attention. “Initially, it was for Sasha. After she had the baby, she needed a place to pump while she was on shift.”
“That was really thoughtful of management.”
He pressed a hand along his jaw awkwardly, like the thought of talking about a woman breastfeeding made him itchy. I fought a smile.
“Yeah,” he agreed, “afterward it became a powder room. The tourists seem to like it.”
Now that I’d gotten a good look at the place, I thought Larry had mentioned it. She spent more time at Magnolia than the rest of us on account of Kayla being her best friend since childhood. She often visited her friend while she was bartending.
I eyed the couch thoughtfully. “It is really nice. I think Larry passed out in here once.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Never mind,” I chirped.
The change of scenery had definitely distracted me from the wild emotions surging through me. My conflicting feelings were still there, but they weren’t in danger of spilling out all over the people I loved—people who would be hurt, if they saw the truth.
“Thanks for bringing me here,” I said.
Jack sat on the ottoman and patted the couch before him in invitation. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I took a seat, and he wrapped a warm hand around my calf. The touch beneath the hem of my flowy skirt was grounding and welcome. But I didn’t think I could admit my failings and discuss why I’d been so rattled moments ago.
“I think it was just too much,” I admitted instead. “I felt overwhelmed. I don’t know.”
He nodded, accepting my vague explanation.