Chapter 39
39
“Okay, tell me everything.” Heather stares at me as she takes a sip of her martini. “And I’ll smell it if you hold out on me.”
I knew this was coming. That’s why I suggested we sit out on the screened porch, even though Nan and Bennett have already gone to bed. It’s also why I’m drinking a strong cocktail from an old-fashioned juice tumbler—the cottage has fifteen mismatched mugs but not a martini glass in sight.
I take a sip and cough. “This tastes like hellfire.”
“Stop delaying.” Heather pulls her legs up, facing me with them crossed beneath her. I do the same. We’re wearing similar pajamas, except mine are blue and hers are pink. It feels like we’re kids again, sharing a bedroom, though back then, it was Heather describing her latest crush.
“Umm…” I don’t know where to begin.
“Fine,” she says. “I’ll tell you what I like about him.” She holds up a finger. “One, he threw himself into the middle of three generations of Everly women like a champion. He got Bennett to talk to him at lunch, and he carried Nan like the precious cargo she is.” A second finger rises. “Two, it takes balls to hang up on Dad and me the way he did last month. I respect that. And three, he kept his shirt on.”
I sigh, remembering how on the boat ride back, Charlie cut the motor in the middle of the lake so we could jump off. Heather went first, and I followed. Bennett was hesitant, so Charlie offered to jump with her. They stood on the end of the boat, both in their T-shirts, and cannonballed into the water. Charlie rarely wears a shirt on dry land, let alone in the water.
Heather clears her throat. “And four, well, look at him. The way that shirt stuck to his abs. Give me another martini, and I might fight you for him.”
I laugh.
“And five…”
“Wow, this is a long list.”
She gives me a meaningful look. “He adores you.”
I study my drink, feeling the blush creep across my cheeks.
“And he makes you laugh. Like really laugh—that scary witchy cackle of yours.”
“Yeah,” I murmur.
“Have you had sex?”
“What?” I squeak. “No.”
“Lie,” Heather says, voice flat. “Your face is bright red.”
“We’re friends .”
“Lie.”
“We are, Heather. That’s the truth.”
“Please. You ogled him like you’ve seen him naked.”
“Well…”
“I knew it!” she cries, slapping me on the arm so that my drink almost spills. “Describe everything to me. Length. Girth. Curvature. Leave nothing unaccounted for.”
“Absolutely not, you psycho.”
She sighs. “You’re no fun. But is it good? I bet it’s good. He looks like a man who can f—”
“We haven’t had sex,” I say before she can go on. “We’ve done…other stuff.”
“I love how uncomfortable you look right now. What other stuff, Ali?”
“Like, third base?”
Heather laughs so loud, I’m sure it can be heard around the bay.
“Shhh.” I kick her. “And we are friends. We just also happen to be physically attracted to each other, so we’re going with it. We’re having a summer fling. Nothing complicated. Neither of us is looking for a relationship.”
“You’re going with it?”
“Right.”
“Turtle, you haven’t gone with a relationship your entire life.”
“I’m trying something new,” I say. “We genuinely like each other. We respect each other. We have fun together. It’s refreshing.”
She presses her lips together as she studies me, the way she does when she’s going into lawyer mode. “What do you like about him?”
What don’t I like about him?
“He’s…” I look out at the lake, thinking about when I first realized there was so much more to Charlie than provocation and pectorals. “He’s different from me—more outgoing, more confident, not shy at all. But we’re similar, too. He’s really attuned to people and takes care of them in his own way. We can spend hours and hours together, talking or not talking, and we don’t get sick of each other. He’s funny, but he’s also incredibly thoughtful. I can be myself when I’m with him. And I’ve never had so much fun. With anyone. Ever.”
I look back to my sister. Her mouth is hanging open.
“Oh my god. You’re in love with him.”
“I’m not,” I say quickly.
“You are, Ali. I haven’t heard you talk like this about anyone since Oz.”
My stomach drops. Nothing good came from the way I felt about Oz, but the setup is strikingly familiar. Gorgeous man. Strong friendship. Oz and I finished each other’s sentences. We encouraged each other. I told him almost everything I was thinking. We used to lie on opposite ends of his futon, my feet by his head, and talk all night. A few weeks before we slept together, he’d said to me, “No one understands me the way you do.” The night he took me home, I let myself believe he’d been waiting just like I had. I shake my head slowly. I can’t make the same mistake I did with Oz.
Heather sets her drink down and puts both hands on my knees. “I think it’s different this time. Oz treated you like a groupie. Charlie looks at you like he’d follow you anywhere.”
“What Charlie and I have now works for us,” I tell Heather firmly. And it is different than it was with Oz. This is not a yearslong unrequited crush. Charlie and I have been open about where we stand.
“And what is that exactly?”
“Friendship. I don’t want it to go further than that.”
She looks at me with abundant skepticism.
“I can’t, Heather. I think what Charlie and I have might be rare. I don’t want to ruin it. Relationships are too risky. Look at Mom and Dad. They wasted all those years on each other, and then Mom fled to the other side of the country.” I avoid bringing up my sister’s gut-wrenching divorce.
“Mom did not flee ,” Heather says. “She’s always wanted to live in British Columbia, and now she’s making it happen. She’s happy.”
“I know.” I picture Mom on the first day I visited, rosy cheeked and sipping on a cup of rooibos tea. We’d gone to a hot yoga class and then her favorite café. She looked blissed out in a way that I’d never seen. Even her movements were less frantic. I thought it was the yoga, but she was like that the entire time I was there. At peace.
“I think relationships can change,” Heather says now. “And they’re not always easy. After everything, I still believe in love. I just don’t have the time or energy to offer another person right now.” She stares out at the lights of the far shore for a moment. “I don’t think Mom and Dad consider the years they were together a waste, either. Nothing lasts forever, Ali.”
“Right,” I say. Case closed.
“Right,” she repeats. “That’s why you should grab onto whatever makes you happy now and hold on for as long as you can. Life’s short.”
I shut my eyes for a moment. It sounds like something Charlie might say.