37 Gemma
I n the end, I decide not to apply for the position, a choice that’s cemented in my mind when, in the beginning of March, my friends rent out a whole karaoke cable car for my thirtieth birthday.
Although cable cars are relatively common in the city, I almost never ride them. I last took one when I first slept over at Celeste’s place in Nob Hill. And before that, the only other time was when James and I rode in the back of the Powell Street trolley to Fisherman’s Wharf, hugging each other as the bright red cable car sped down the hills.
Tonight, my friends and I get on what is more of a motorized trolley on wheels. So it’s technically not an actual cable car, but it more than makes up for the discrepancy with its built-in open bar and karaoke system.
“We thought it’d be a shame if we let this milestone birthday pass without doing something super fun,” Kiara says as we settle into our seats. “Plus, your birthday is on a Friday this year, so obviously, we had to go all out!”
“Happy birthday, Gemma!” Val exclaims as the car starts moving.
Kiara joins in, and we all tightly hug each other.
“Thanks, guys,” I say. “This is amazing. Literally the best birthday present ever.”
We say cheers and down our first round of drinks.
As the car rolls through the streets, we raise our drinks and belt out Chappell Roan songs, as well as hits that were popular while we were in college, like Taylor Swift’s “Blank Space” and Adele’s “Hello.” My friends thankfully don’t judge me when I cry through most of the songs, although they do exchange concerned glances when I sing “Casual” a bit too passionately.
When the last notes fade away, Val pauses the music before it can start our next round of songs.
“So,” she says. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She doesn’t need to clarify what “it” is.
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” I say with a laugh that sounds sad and pathetic even to my own ears. “I caught feelings. But in my defense, I’m pretty sure Celeste did, too. I doubt things were casual for her, either. She told me she loves me.”
Val winces, and Kiara frowns.
“But then why isn’t she here with you?” Val asks. “If she loves you, too, I mean.”
I sigh and down my flute of champagne. “She was too afraid to try again, given our history. And honestly, I don’t blame her. She went through a lot in the past eight years. A lot more than I did. Also, when she asked me when was the last time I was single single for an extended amount of time, I couldn’t give her an answer. Even I was spooked by that.”
Val crosses her arms over her chest in a contemplative gesture. “Oh, yeah. I can’t remember a time when you were completely single, either. Very briefly after you split up from James, maybe. But even that didn’t last long. And James wasn’t your first boyfriend, right? Even though Celeste was your first girlfriend.”
I nod. “I dated a few more guys before I met her, when I still thought I was straight.”
Kiara pats me on the back. “Then maybe it’s good you’re taking a break from dating!” With a guilty look, she adds, “Sorry for pushing you to start dating again so soon after your breakup with James. I thought it would help.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry, too,” Val adds. “For whatever part I played in this.”
I shake my head. “It’s not either of your faults. This is a personal issue of mine that’s been going on way before I even met you guys. I just never realized it until now. I signed up for therapy this week. In the spirit of turning thirty.”
Val lifts her glass up. “Hey, good for you! Take charge of that mental health.”
Kiara and I giggle at Val’s dad energy.
“In all seriousness,” Kiara says. “I’m so proud of you, Gemma. We both are. Yay for working on ourselves in this new decade!”
We throw back our drinks, and I clear my throat. “Anyway, thanks, but enough about me. Sorry, I feel like it’s been nothing but me-me-me since my breakup with James. How is everything going for you guys?”
Kiara shakes her head. “You were going through a lot, Gem. Seven years is a long time. And then all that stuff with Celeste?” She lets out a baffled laugh. “We’re glad we could be there for you. I know you’d do the same if anything happened to us.”
Val’s eyebrows shoot up in panic. “ Dios mío , please, let’s not even think about that remote possibility. Especially not after—”
She cuts herself off. Her eyes widen as she shoots a glance at Kiara, who also suddenly looks frantic. Kiara mouths something to her girlfriend that suspiciously looks a lot like Not the right time!
I then realize that neither Val nor Kiara gave me a real answer when I asked them what they’ve been up to. I look from one friend to the other. With a nervous laugh, I say, “You can tell me, whatever it is. What’s up?”
Val sighs. Then without saying another word, she raises her left hand, and so does Kiara. Kiara has rings on almost all her fingers, so it’s not immediately obvious with her, but it definitely is with Val, who never wears any jewelry whatsoever. Except today. And I guess, now, for the rest of her life.
Around each of their left ring fingers is a thin black band. Kiara’s has a small, yellow-green stone in the center that I’m pretty sure is peridot, Val’s birthstone, while Val’s has a ruby—Kiara’s birthstone—in the same place. Their engagement rings are both so uniquely them that tears immediately spring to my eyes.
“Oh my gosh,” I say. “Finally! Congratulations! Also, wow, I can’t believe I’m only noticing them now. They’re gorgeous!”
Val gives me a sneaky grin. “Luckily I’m right-handed, so I’ve been keeping my left hand in my pocket around you for the last couple of days.”
I laugh as my brain plays back the last few times I’ve seen Val this week at lunch. She’s right. I only remember her using her right hand.
“Wait, that’s so funny!” I exclaim. “But also, you guys didn’t have to hide this from me. I’m so, so happy for you two!”
Val shrugs. “We didn’t want to be insensitive. Especially after everything you went through last year.”
“And it’s your birthday, Gemma,” Kiara adds. “Really, this could have waited at least another day.”
I shake my head rapidly. “No, I don’t mind at all. If anything, this has made my thirtieth all the more special. My two favorite people in the whole world, getting married! Tell me everything. How did you guys propose? Who proposed? Are there pictures?”
Val launches into the story of how she proposed a couple of nights ago—“during the full moon, the culmination of our relationship,” Kiara adds with a content sigh—on the rooftop patio of their apartment building.
“I had to hound our landlord until he let me light candles and spread rose petals up there,” Val says. “But thankfully he eventually allowed it after I promised I wouldn’t tell the other tenants. I also cleaned up everything right away, so no issues there.”
She shows me absolutely gorgeous pictures of the dreamy, flowery rooftop proposal, along with stunning snapshots of her and Val kissing under the full moon. There’s even an adorable photo of Burrito wearing a little cat tux.
I’m full-on bawling now, my heart bursting with so much joy. Val and Kiara get sniffly, too, and soon, we’re all crying and laughing as we hug each other.
“I love you guys so much, but also…” I say, pulling away to give Val a side-eye. “Did you not need help with the proposal? I was free that day.”
Val shakes her head. “Nah, I was super nervous, so I didn’t tell anyone except the photographer I hired. And the landlord, of course. But only because I had to. We could use your help with something else, though!”
She exchanges glances with Kiara, who nods and takes my hand.
“Gemma, will you be my maid of honor? Our maid of honor?”
Both she and Val give me a wide, hopeful smile.
“Of course I will!” I shriek, before pulling my friends into another big hug.
After we wipe away our tears, the three of us launch into Beyoncé’s “Cuff It,” one of Kiara’s favorite songs. We also do “Single Ladies,” of course, with my friends hyping me up whenever Beyoncé sings “single ladies” and waving their left hands in the air at “put a ring on it.”
At the end of the song, Val pulls Kiara into a sweeping, deep kiss, and I pop open another bottle of champagne.
When I was in college, I thought that by the time I turned thirty, I’d be living in the suburbs with my partner and kids. Drunkenly singing along to Chappell Roan and Beyoncé with my friends in a neon-light-decked trolley car speeding down the hills in San Francisco is like the exact opposite of that. But I’m so fucking happy, I don’t care.
My life isn’t what I thought it would be. But I’m loving it, regardless.
By the time we get off the car, the three of us are laughing and swaying on the sidewalk, with Val still humming the last couple of songs. It’s the most fun I’ve had in years.
Later that night, I get into my bed at Ms. Chang’s and check my phone, like I always do before going to sleep. A single unread notification waits for me on the screen, and I swipe it to reveal a text from Celeste.
Happy birthday, Gem.
A warm rush of emotions fills my chest, along with a sharp pang of bittersweet. After trying and failing to decide how to reply to her, I heart the message and hug my pillow tightly to my chest before drifting off to sleep.