Chapter 24 Piper
PIPER
“So let me get this straight.” Avah points a corner of her turkey club in my direction. “One of your high school besties invited your douche canoe ex-fiancé and his new wife to her wedding because the bitches do yoga together?”
The afternoon sun beats down on us despite the shade from a nearby Douglas fir, and I’m grateful we picked this spot in Town Hall Park.
A light breeze carries the scent of pine and wildflowers, offering some relief from the late summer heat.
Ellie toddles between us and the tree, her little fists full of treasures.
I glance over my shoulder to where she’s happily collecting pinecones from beneath the branches, then back to Avah.
“Can we keep the language G-rated?”
“Can you answer the question?” she fires back.
“Yeah. I texted Christy, and she said she meant to let me know, but there’s been so much going on with the wedding planning. She said Marie is really nice.” The words taste bitter in my mouth, even though I’m trying not to care.
“You have…” Avah flicks her eyes toward Ellie. “…poopy friends.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I say and pick up a chip, only to put it down again. My heart is still doing that annoying pinch thing whenever I think about Bradley and his really nice new wife at Christy’s wedding.
“It’s kind of a big deal.” Sloane places a hand on my arm, the gentle pressure grounding me.
Avah and I had lunch plans today, and I was glad when Sloane said she could join too, and even more grateful that the two of them were up for a picnic in the park across from Town Hall.
The grass is soft beneath our blanket, and Colorado’s endless blue sky stretches above us.
It’s the kind of summer day that makes you forget that in a few months the whole landscape will be covered in a layer of snow.
Tucked under the shade of a tree, we’re also away from the potentially curious stares of Skylark locals that we’d get at the diner in town.
One of the perks of living in a small town is that people look out for each other.
The downside to that is people being all up in your business.
It’s not like I’m trying to hide Ellie. I smile as I watch her squat to examine a particularly large pinecone.
Now that Ian knows about her, Felix has gotten a lot more comfortable taking her out in public.
And as if he wasn’t popular enough, his vague explanation that he’s helping out a friend has melted hearts all over town.
It actually seems to have made him even more of a fan favorite, at least with the residents of Skylark.
On the other hand, I get a not-at-all-melty reaction when I explain that I’m working as his temporary nanny while he helps out said friend.
I’ve gotten a few veiled oh, so you’re the nanny comments, along with some straight-up attitude.
Trying to follow in your sister’s footsteps, huh?
Worked out pretty well for her. Sometimes it’s a fight not to roll my eyes sometimes.
I hate the innuendos and judgment. For one, they aren’t true. But also because it’s only going to get worse once my pregnancy is public knowledge. My hand drifts to my stomach, which is starting to show just enough that I’ve switched to loose-fitting tops.
“I swear I don’t care.”
“What’s up with your pruny face then?” Sloane asks.
“This is just my face,” I say with an eye roll. “Ellie, do you want another bite of sandwich?”
The girl toddles over to me with a pinecone in each fist. “Pi cone.” She holds out her hand like she’s gifting me with a gold crown.
“Oh, this is a perfect pinecone,” I tell her sincerely. “I’ll treasure it always.”
“Always,” she mimics, and that one word does something funny to my chest. It makes my breath catch, and my heart squeeze with an emotion I’m not ready to name.
“Pruny,” Sloane repeats, her voice knowing.
“You better work on fixing your face, Pip,” Avah adds with a laugh. “The Hart sisters are for sure not poker players.”
I take a breath. “I didn’t get pregnant purposely to trap Felix.” The words come out softer than I intend.
“Sweetie, no one thinks you did,” Avah assures me quickly.
I shake my head. “Because hardly anyone knows. But once they do…”
“None of us think you did,” Sloane says. “And who gives a rat’s ass what other people think?”
Avah nods, a strand of shiny blonde hair falling across her cheek. “Your friends are the only ones who matter.”
“My high school friends will for sure think it was on purpose.” My tone edges toward bitter. “When Christy found out I’m nannying for Felix, she just about demanded I bring him as my date to the wedding so she can post it on social media.”
“Hey, it worked for Sadie,” Avah says, and Sloane nudges her. “What? I’m not saying it’s the same thing, but bringing him to your wedding as her fake boyfriend is how it all started. Why not take advantage of—”
“No.” I shake my head emphatically. “I won’t fake a relationship with Felix. That’s going to be a little awkward given that I’m carrying his child.” My hand goes to my stomach again, a protective gesture that’s becoming a habit.
“He’d go with you, though,” Sloane says gently, “if you need the moral support.”
Avah snorts. “Which you shouldn’t fu—fudging need when you’re going to be at this wedding with people who are supposed to be your lifelong friends.”
“You guys are my friends now.” I mean it. These women have shown up for me more in the past few months than my high school crowd has in years.
Avah pops a grape into her mouth. “We’re a big improvement, too.”
“Speaking of Felix.” Sloane arches a delicate brow in my direction. “Obviously we’ve established that you don’t hate him like we thought you did.”
“Like I thought I did.”
“There’s a thin line between love and hate.” Avah looks at me while she’s saying the words, but I don’t think she’s just talking about Felix and me. Something dark flickers across her face before she masks it with a smile.
“Are you going to give us another lecture on how great hate sex is?” Sloane asks with a laugh.
Avah’s smile tightens. “I’ve already told you, I’m not giving that lecture anymore.”
Sloane’s expression shifts to concern. “Everything okay with the elopement plans? There’s still time for a ceremony surrounded by your book club besties instead of some secret self-solemnizing spot.”
“We don’t want any fuss,” Avah insists.
When I first heard about Avah’s plan to elope in Colorado with just her and Jonathan, it had sounded like a dream.
After all the stress of wedding planning—seating charts, dealing with vendors, nonstop opinions from anyone with a pulse—running off to say vows on a mountainside seemed like the only sane option.
But now something about it feels off. Avah’s not someone who shies away from attention, and Jonathan’s so focused on his career and reputation, it seems like he’d love an excuse to throw a lavish party. So why the cloak and dagger routine?
“Besides, you know I’m all about the honeymoon, and without wedding expenses, we’re going all out in Bora Bora.” She does a shimmy. “Really, you guys. I couldn’t be happier.”
Except she sounds about as happy as someone about to face a firing squad. The forced cheerfulness in her voice makes my chest constrict. There’s a beat of silence, and I know Sloane must also be registering how odd our friend is acting.
Avah picks up the container of oatmeal cookies she brought along. You wouldn’t guess it to look at her, but Avah’s sweet baking game is wicked good. “What’s new at the bookstore?” she asks as she offers Sloane a cookie. “And how does it feel to have kicked cancer to the curb?”
“Book sales are solid,” Sloane says, studying the cookie she’s holding. “But I haven’t quite kicked it to the curb yet. I’ve got another round of meds coming, but—”
“Wait.” Avah shakes her head, and I watch the same confusion cross her features that I’m sure is mirrored in mine. “I thought after the stem cell transplant, you were good. Your hair is nearly to your ears now. I mean, I know that’s not a measure of health,” she clarifies quickly, “but—”
“I’ve qualified for a new drug trial.” Sloane runs a finger through her dark hair, shining in the afternoon sun. “The best part is it’s not like chemo. I’m not supposed to lose my hair with this one.”
Her tone is thoughtful, but strangely at odds with the bright summer sunshine. Where’s a rain cloud when you need it?
“So you’re not…” I swallow hard. “Cancer-free?”
She tries to hide her wince, but isn’t quite successful. “Not yet. One more round of treatment to go, and then I’m onto my survivorship care plan.”
“What do you need?” Avah asks.
“How can we help?” I echo.
Sloane rolls her eyes. “You know Jeremy has everything dialed in.” Her brother, a billionaire tech bro, has been at her side for every step in this cancer journey.
He doesn’t seem to want much interaction with the rest of us, which pisses Avah off to no end.
She doesn’t like not being in control, and with his seemingly endless contacts in the medical community, plus his deep pockets, Jeremy has been the person Sloane leans on the most.
“I hate your brother,” Avah mutters.
“You barely know him,” Sloane counters with a smile, as usual entertained by the animosity between her brother and her best friend.
Avah wrinkles her nose. “I know enough to hate him.”
Ellie comes back over and offers Sloane a pinecone, as if she can sense the shift in the conversation, the emotion thick around us.
“This is lovely, sweetie. I’m going to put it on my desk where I can look at it every day.
” Sloane’s smile is almost wistful. She’s the only one of us, if you count my situation-ship with Felix, who’s not with a guy.
As far as I can tell, she didn’t date much before her cancer diagnosis, and not at all since.
Although I’d never ask her directly, I wonder if her treatment has affected her ability to conceive, and whether she might want to eventually.