40. Misely
forty
Misely
I t was hard not to be in constant awe of the little world that Birdie and Milo had created for themselves. After the two men had left to go visit Nina’s , Birdie let me in on the fact that Milo was not a mere bar manager. He owned the bar outright, and had just wanted to yank his brother’s chain a little. I was highly impressed and deeply proud of Milo, who had been saving up money for years to start over, and now had everything to show for that labor.
Birdie had taken me on a drive into town, pointing out the booming bar as we drove past and beaming with her own intense pride. Not just for the bar, but for everything around us. “The summer wasn’t too bad honestly, it never really got over eighty-five degrees, and this is about as cold as it gets here,” she said, pulling her little yellow VW Beetle into the parking lot of what appeared to be a florist shop.
I cracked a grin. “So you’re telling me it’s not a replica of your own personal hell?” Birdie had loathed me eternally when I convinced her to move back to my home state of Wisconsin after college and was met with the ungodly heat and humidity of Midwestern summers. She’d been wanting a neutral landing ground after being raised on one coast and then going to school along another, and I had taken her somewhere that was in its own right just as miserable. Then when winter rolled around she learned a new kind of hatred for me.
I guess it was easy to forget to mention that if you don’t like hot summers, you would probably hate frigid, near arctic winters just as much (or maybe more so).
She jabbed me in my ribs with a smile before opening the door of the shop, a tiny bell above rang to announce our arrival. “Come on, I want to introduce you to someone.”
Damn . It was so much more than a floral shop. Sure, there were gorgeous bouquets of flowers and flourishing plants scattered everywhere , but there were also beautifully crafted paintings, jars of herbs, crystals, books, and what looked to be handcrafted pottery. Just as a thin woman stepped out from behind a curtained doorway, I caught the label on one of the jars of herbs.
‘Hand Foraged by Birdie’s Botanical’
I looked at her and she winked, but before she could say anything, the woman behind the counter greeted her with a loud welcome.
“Alisha! I didn’t think you’d be stopping by today!” The woman came around the counter and wrapped Birdie in a warm hug, the smile lines around her soft blue eyes wrinkling further as she squeezed her.
Birdie laughed, returning the embrace. “I hadn’t planned to, but I have a visitor that I wanted to introduce you to.”
The woman’s gaze found me, and her smile brightened impossibly. “Well go on,” she said to Birdie. “Do your introductions. Even though I’m sure I can guess.”
Birdie chuckled, gesturing to me. “Kat, I’d like to introduce you to my very best friend, Misely. She’s driven all the way from Chicago to come visit with Miles’ brother, Talon.”
The older woman’s mouth stretched into a wide beam. “Two visitors in one weekend, you must be just thrilled,” she said to Birdie before turning to me. “Misely, dear, I have heard so much about you.”
My cheeks flushed. “Only good things I hope.”
Her head fell back on her shoulders and she let out a hardy laugh. “Oh, of course! My name is Katherine, but please call me Kat.” She held out her hand for me and I took it, her other coming over to squeeze mine between hers kindly. “Our sweet Allie here has been just lost without you.”
Looking to Birdie, she was smiling at us warmly. “I have been. I’m so glad to have you here, Mize.”
"The feeling is completely mutual." I felt my eyes go watery, but I blinked away the sudden moisture gathered there. “So!” I said, needing to shake off some of the excess emotion and change the subject. “Tell me what you do here.” It was said to both of them, because it was obvious that Birdie had some involvement in this store.
“Well mostly, I sell plants,” Kat said, waving a hand around the room. “But Allie has really helped me broaden my horizons this year.”
Birdie shook her head. “Not by much. I just bring her some herbs from my garden at home. All different kinds for cooking, teas, herbal remedies, you name it.” She picked up one of the cork topped jars, passing it to me. Dried chamomile. “And in the summer, Kat lets me set up a little stand out on her sidewalk to sell some of the excess veggies I grow. It’s nice to share with the community.”
My lips pulled up and my chest warmed. “That sounds like the perfect way to spend your time.”
Birdie’s smile grew, her joy evident. “I love it.”
“I’m so happy for you.” And I was. She had gotten everything she’d ever wanted. The peace, the quiet, the plants—the man too. And there wasn’t anybody more deserving.
“This is some of the best fucking ice cream I’ve ever had. To think, if I hadn’t insisted you go get your guts rearranged last year, I might not be sitting here right now, having the best ice cream ever.” I swallowed another bite, my eyes squeezing shut as yet another wave of brain freeze iced over my skull. Birdie laughed, sitting across from me with a root beer float. She’d taken me to an old style ice cream joint about a block away from Kat’s Flora, but not after I spent half a month’s rent on various teas and books.
Did I know a damn thing about herbs or have any use for books on designing bouquets? Absolutely not. But it was something so special to Birdie, and I felt the dire urge to support her in her element.
“I knew the second you said you were coming that I had to bring you here,” she said, taking a long pull from her favorite treat. "You've always been a fiend for a sugar high."
I couldn’t spare her a thankful smile because I was already digging into another spoonful of frozen deliciousness. It felt like it had been before—when Birdie and I would get ice cream after work or visit our favorite coffee shop. The innate instinct to blab like we used to took over, and without thinking I let the words fall out of my mouth.
“So, my sister is pregnant.” I licked my spoon clean enough to see my reflection in its surface before scooping up another bite.
Birdie’s straw made a slurping sound as she broke through a chunk of vanilla ice cream. Her eyebrows barely twitched. “Oh? Which one?”
“Megan.”
“Hmm, wow. She must be excited.” Birdie’s lack of interest was expected, she knew I was not close with any of my siblings.
I shrugged, “I don’t know, I found out on Insta . Oh!” I braced myself. “And James is engaged.”
This made my friend choke. Literally. Root beer sputtered out of her mouth, and she grabbed frantically for some napkins to clean herself up. “ What ?”
Again, I shrugged, doing my best to reserve my feelings on the matter. Birdie had been the one to pick me up out of the ashes of mine and James’ failed relationship, had been the one to see me at my very worst. If it hadn't been for her, I'd probably still be rotting into our old couch. “Found that out on the internet as well.”
Pity I didn’t want shone brightly in my friend’s eyes, followed closely behind by what seemed to be barely restrained frustration. “That lying little—”
I cut her off, despite my appreciation for her protectiveness. “It’s okay, Bird. I’ve moved on.”
Giving me a questioning look, she asked softly, “Then why do you look so sad?”
Sighing, I lifted my shoulder again. “It’s not about James necessarily. It’s just…I thought that it would be us. And even though he was adamant he wasn’t ready to give that to me…well, it hadn’t taken him very long to give it to someone else. It just had me questioning a lot of things.”
“Mize—”
“No,” I interrupted again, giving her a watery smile. I thought of her and Milo and the beautiful life they’d created together. I thought about the insane journey I’d just taken to reach them with Milo’s own brother, of all people. I thought about my contradicting feelings about the man. About all the ways I felt for him that I had never felt for James. “It’s okay, really. If anything, I’ve definitely come to the realization that James and I would never have worked in the long run. It was a pipe dream.”
“You loved him,” she said, a sympathetic note in her tone. “It’s okay if this hurts you.”
“It's more like a phantom pain. A scar that’s healed over. Still hurts when you press on it. And you’re right, I did. I did love him but…”
When I trailed off, a small but knowing smile curved Birdie’s lips. “But he’s not the sun anymore.”
I didn’t know what she meant, but in my soul the words sounded right.