Chapter 12 – Rosie #2
“Go, Mama. Love you.” Charlie giggles when Jack starts galloping in a circle and she womps up and down on his back.
“Okay.” I laugh too, my anxieties lifting. If I can’t trust one of my oldest friends, then who else is there? “Have fun. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Jack gives Stella a little peck on the cheek before spinning around and galloping back down the hall.
Stella watches them, but I observe her. There’s something going on there.
Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe they had an argument before I got here.
West and I have had our fair share before brushing them off and stepping into a business-hosted cocktail party.
Shuffling my feet, I interrupt her gazing. “Everything okay?”
She turns and snatches her purse from where it’s sitting the entryway table. “C’mon.” She grabs my arm. “Daisy is out front waiting for us.”
I allow her to lead me out the door and back down her front steps until we’ve crossed the yard. We stand in front of a 1977 blue Volkswagen Slug Bug with a recent paint job and a surfboard rack on top. My eyes widen. “Wait. Daisy still has her Slug Bug?”
“Yep,” Stella says. “Crazy right?”
Daisy hops out and lunges for me, wrapping me up in a tight hug as soon as she reaches me. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you’re actually coming out with us,” she says, following it up with a little squeal.
“And I can’t believe you still have your old car.” I breathe out a little laugh, gazing at its near perfect condition.
Daisy runs a palm over the shiny paint on the hood. “This girl hasn’t let me down yet. At this point she’s more reliable than the men in my life. And now she’s a classic.”
“Save the male drama for the taco bar.” Stella shoves the passenger seat forward and climbs into the back of the tiny car.
I glance over my shoulder at Dottie’s Mini Cooper. Daisy’s Slug Bug isn’t much bigger, but it’s got to have more leg room. “You sure you don’t want me to drive?”
“I drew the short straw, meaning I only get one margarita tonight because I’m driving.” Daisy slides behind the wheel. “Get in,” she calls to me.
I chew on my lip. Cruising around Golden Harbor in Daisy’s little death-trap in high school was one thing, but I’ve got Charlie to think about now.
“Hey?” Stella hollers. “The margaritas aren’t going to drink themselves.”
Exhaling a sigh, I give one last reluctant glance at the red Mini Cooper and get into the passenger seat. After I click the seat belt in place, I glance in the rearview mirror and Stella is smiling back in it, her hazel eyes sparkling. She’s right. Tonight will be good for me. Good for us.
“So margaritas, huh?” I ask.
“There’s this really cute margarita and taco bar right on the beach. It’s literally called Tacos by the Beach. You’re gonna love it.” Stella coats her full lips with another layer of pink gloss.
“Clever,” I mutter. Except I don’t drink margaritas. At least, not normally. But I don’t say this out loud. Because tonight, I will. The last thing I want is to be accused of being the designated Debbie Downer.
A few minutes later, Daisy pulls into an angled parking spot, turning some heads from the sidewalk at the rumble.
At this point, her car is considered a classic.
But the stares don’t affect her one way or another.
She slides her sunglasses up to the top of her head, pushing back her long, blonde hair.
After Stella unfolds herself from the cramped back seat and adjusts her short leather skirt and top, being sure the girls are tucked in, the three of us strut down the sidewalk.
A shiny black Jeep with the top off takes its time driving past us, and a few shirtless men send out catcalls and raucous whistles.
I retract my assumption upon closer look—these are boys not men.
The three of us let out a bark of laughter in unison.
“Damn, we must look good,” Stella says as she opens the door to the restaurant. “Those guys were at least ten years younger than us.”
We usher inside and it’s bright and colorful.
Decorated in shades of oranges, teals, and pinks.
Banners and canvases cover the walls, blown glass dishes adorn tables, and paper lanterns hang from the ceiling.
There’s ’90s music streaming from the speakers overhead and the servers are young and vibrant.
Stella was right—I love it.
“Let’s check for a table on the deck.” Stella brings up the rear as we weave through the bar.
“Already on it,” Daisy says in singsong.
She finds us a table in the corner of the patio with exactly three stools. Perfect. No uninvited guests can join us. No shirtless twenty-year-olds.
I drop onto a teal metal stool and glance to the side of me.
The ocean stretches farther than I can see.
The sun sits low in the golden sky just above the waves.
The sunsets in Golden Harbor are known across California for how gorgeous they are.
A warm tingle shoots across my bare arms and I shiver.
I guess I hadn’t realized how much I’ve missed them until now.
“What can I get ya ladies?” a woman’s voice chimes, pulling me from my thoughts.
“We will take a pitcher of your finest mango margaritas. By finest, I of course mean your cheapest,” Stella says under her breath with a smirk.
“And frozen most definitely. And we’d like three of your taco flights, each one a different taco, please.
” Stella hands back the menus before I’ve even had a chance to look at it.
“Oh, um…I don’t think…” I attempt to clutch at a menu before the server can whisk away with them but Stella shoos her away.
“That’s right, don’t think. I got you.” She winks.
Has she always been this assertive?
“Just trust her.” Daisy lifts her phone out of her purse. “Every taco here is delicious. And if one of them has something on it you can’t eat, we’ll trade.”
“Okay.” I give a slight nod, still off-kilter. But it’s comforting that Daisy remembers this detail about me.
“Picture time, ladies,” Stella announces as she hops off her stool. She taps the guy’s shoulder next to us and after a few words are exchanged, she gives him her phone. “What do we think? Taco bar in the background or the beach?”
“Beach,” Daisy and I say at the same time.
We crowd together, me squished in the middle, and my heart gives a sigh in my chest. I still fit between them, like I used to.
For this brief moment it’s as if no time has passed.
We smile and luckily the guy takes several pictures so we can sort through them in hopes of finding at least one we can all agree will be Instagram-worthy.
The pitcher of margaritas arrives with three blue, blown glasses. My first sip is heavenly. It’s tart and sweet, the citrus hitting my tastebuds just right. Maybe I’ll be forgoing the wine and ordering these next time West takes me out.
Shit. West.
I pick up my phone from where it’s been lying face-down on the table. The unanswered text from him doesn’t sit there lonely. It’s now been joined by two more. I purse my lips as I open them.
West
Please don’t give me the silent treatment. FaceTime will be better anyway. We haven’t got to have phone sex yet. Thought that might be kind of fun. What do you think? Nine? Charlie should be in bed by then.
If I FaceTime you at nine and I’m naked and you’re not, that will be awfully embarrassing.
That would be embarrassing. But I suppose your apology is good enough and I won’t put you through the humiliation
I’m out with my friends. I’ll call you when I’m back at Dottie’s
West
Friends?
I tilt my head and my brows pinch together. Is he…jealous?
Yeah you’ve heard me mention Stella? And her cousin Daisy
West
So no guys then?
He is jealous. I’m not sure if I find it adorable or unbecoming.
West
Because that would be pretty fucked up
My eyes bulge and a streak of shock ripples through me.
No men. Never any man but you
West
Good. That’s my girl.
“Earth to Rosie,” Daisy is saying, shaking my shoulder.
I lift my gaze from my phone to find her crouching to meet my eye. “Hmm…mm?”
“I was saying, tell us about this Richard Gere guy you’ve snatched up and are engaged to.”
I shake my head, still attempting to clear it from the whiplash of West’s words. “Did I…did I tell you I was engaged?”
Daisy’s gaze drops to her margarita, and she pinches the straw and fidgets with it. “No, Stella told me.” She looks up again, hurt shining in her blue eyes. “But you should have. How could you not tell me you’re engaged?”
I hurry to tap out a quick I love you text before flipping my phone over again. “I know, I’m sorry. I was going to. I meant to. Everything just happened so fast. And then…Dottie.”
Daisy’s expression crumples, but now it’s for a different reason—Dottie.
She might have been my grandma by blood, but she was like a grandma to all my friends as well.
We’re all grieving her. “It’s fine. You’re here now.
And this is even better, because now you can tell us all the details in person. ”
“And show us.” Stella waggles her brows while she’s got the straw in between her teeth shoved in her margarita, like she’s some kind of handless creature slurping up her drink.
“Yes, c’mon, mama, show us a picture of this silver fox,” Daisy says.
I snort a laugh, the alcohol warming my nerves and easing the tension out of my limbs. “Whoever said he’s a silver fox?”
“You didn’t have to. You said he was a little older, rich, and owned his own finance business. I’m sorry, but you put all that together and my mind goes straight to Richard Gere in Pretty Woman.”
“Well, he is a silver fox,” I pause for Stella to release a squeal, swirling my straw around my frozen drink. “He’s got a nice condo in Seattle that has the best school for Charlie close by. And he’s responsible and so good with her.”
Daisy and Stella pick up their margarita glasses and give each other a look as they both take a drink. I glance back and forth at them, my gut pinching. “What? C’mon, what is it?”