Chapter 3 #3
“I love you, too,” I whispered, because I didn’t know what else to say. Thank you for ripping away my dreams and stomping on them for good measure?
My mom pulled back and smiled at me before touching the end of my ponytail. “Make an appointment at Blush,” she said, tugging it lightly. “This is looking a little street-urchin scraggly.”
I forced a laugh. “Really? Street-urchin scraggly?”
She was only suggesting a haircut, but I felt something in my chest start to churn.
“See you in three weeks, kiddo.” My dad hugged me one last time, and I barely managed to say bon voyage before he let me go.
DO SOMETHING YOU’VE NEVER DONE BEFORE. Griff’s words came to mind only minutes after my parents’ chartered car disappeared down the driveway. Say what the hell and shoot for the moon!
Okay, it was cheesy, but Griff had a point. The closest I’d ever come to stepping out of line was applying to Blue Ridge. I’d never, for lack of a better word, rebelled.
Was it sad that the only thing I could think of was destroying my mom’s perfect kitchen by making breakfast-for-dinner later? A mess of scrambled eggs, pancakes, and crispy bacon that would smell up the room for days?
Yes, Audrey, the little voice in my head said. That’s pretty pathetic.
Especially because, like my mother, I preferred my life neat. The disaster zone would never last; I’d clean up the mess within a few hours of making it.
Hmm…
Before I knew what I was doing, I charged down to the basement and veered right, toward the wine cellar.
It was a point of pride for my parents, bottles upon bottles arranged in mahogany built-ins behind a sleek glass wall.
The humming wine fridge was stocked too.
My mother always offered a glass of chilled sauvignon blanc to her friends.
I shifted from one foot to the other on the flagstone floor as I studied the shelves. The wine was organized by origin: Australia, France, Italy, North America, Spain…
My eyes backtracked to France and locked on the Loire Valley.
How appropriate, since it was Jeff and Monica’s destination.
Smirking to myself, I selected a bottle nestled below my knees, one that wouldn’t appear missing upon first glance.
It was a 2021 Bourgueil Franc de Pied, whatever that was.
All it looked like to me was a bottle of cabernet.
My parents would be upset, but not too upset—especially since I suspected they’d return home with plenty of souvenirs.
They always did. I marched back upstairs feeling triumphant, and it was only when I’d pulled my dad’s fancy electric bottle opener out of a cabinet that I asked myself what the hell I was doing.
Drink an entire bottle of red wine? At three p.m.? By myself?
Heart rate hitching a little, I unlocked my phone and texted Henry. Busy?
Why? he responded a few minutes later. Are you lonely already, Gabrielle?
I rolled my eyes; another Audrey Hepburn reference. And as an only child, I didn’t get lonely. I’d always been excellent at playing by myself as a little kid. The backstories I created for the family living in my dollhouse were masterful.
Gritting my teeth as I walk into the dentist, Henry added, actually answering my question. See you at 7.
SHARP, I replied, then took a breath. Henry had offered to be the ultimate “book boyfriend” tonight, by taking me to the bookstore and watching me browse before dinner. “But you read more than me,” I’d pointed out, to which he replied, “Who cares? Instagram will love it.”
I wondered how many people would realize it was something resembling soft launch. Henry and I didn’t post photos of each other often, and when we did, it was a goofy shot in the hot shop.
I locked my phone and went back to the wine, even though I had no intention of uncorking it. What to do, what to do, I thought, until I realized I was absentmindedly twirling my ponytail—or scraggly ponytail, per my mom.
And just like that, I found a way to fill the day until my “date.”
My hair had its pros and cons. It was long and thick, and, thanks to Pantene’s lavender volumizer shampoo and conditioner, had some bounce.
But its natural color… on a good day, it could be described as ashy blond; on a bad day, dishwater brown; and on a regular day, mousy.
I also wasn’t really into styling it beyond a biannual trim.
My mom always encouraged me to get some highlights and layers to spice things up a little.
I didn’t really see the point; I was a huge fan of ponytails, braids, and messy buns.
Instead of calling Blush, my mom’s expensive salon, I reluctantly texted Ellie, who had connections elsewhere. But when she didn’t respond right away, I grabbed Brigitta’s keys off the mudroom hook and left without setting the alarm.
Ellie’s house was an easy ten-minute drive, and Griff’s just happened to be on the way there.
My heart flipped when I saw him in his front yard, tossing the football around with his younger brothers.
It was a gorgeous day, so he had gone full sun’s out, guns out in a gray muscle tee and Oakley sunglasses.
I thought about rolling down my window and calling his name, but my voice died in my throat when I noticed two girls on his front stoop.
They were in bikini tops, sipping lemonade.
My cheeks warmed. Keep driving.
There were four cars in the Hoppers’ driveway, including one with an unfamiliar Massachusetts license plate, and I spotted Ellie’s Prius among them. I parked on the street, near the mailbox, and took a breath before unbuckling my seat belt. She still hadn’t replied to my text.
Whatever, I told myself. Showing up out of nowhere would be fine. Maybe Ellie hadn’t ever invited me to sleep over, but I knew the Hopper family from Constellation Catering and occasional cookouts at Henry’s house and I could tell they liked me.
Their house was a historic saltbox, painted pale blue with big windows and a navy front door. I heard voices as I walked up the brick pathway and debated whether or not to wink at their Ring camera.
I went with not, since Caroline, my boss, also lived here.
Ding-dong went the doorbell.
“Nah, don’t worry, I’ll get it!” someone shouted from inside, and five seconds later, the door swung open and I was hit with a wave of what could only be called devastating handsomeness.
The guy standing before me looked like a Disney prince, tall with red-gold hair and twinkling blue eyes.
His worn Sperrys and faded green shorts made him look no less royal, and even with his sleeves pushed up to the elbows, his white linen button-down looked familiar—I was pretty sure Henry owned the same one.
He aspired to own the silver Rolex on this guy’s wrist.
Please, I prayed. Please do not let this be Chase!
“May I help you?” he asked when my brain couldn’t formulate a hello.
“Are you Chase?” I squeaked.
“Dear god, no.” He snorted just as I noticed his gold wedding band. “I’m Charlie, Ellie’s second-favorite cousin.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Second-favorite?”
“She prefers my twin,” Charlie explained. He sighed. “But it’s fine—I’m her sister’s first favorite.”
“Good for you,” I joked.
Charlie chuckled and waved me into the house. “You just missed Ellie. Chase picked her up a half hour ago.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, even though it wasn’t Ellie I needed to see (and bleh, she was on a date with Chase). All credit for her pink hair had gone to her sister, after all. “Is Tate around?”
“Tater Tot!” Charlie called. “You have a visitor!”
“Is it Tommy?” a little voice called back. “Because I have zero interest in talking to him!”
“Nope, not Tommy,” her cousin confirmed, and soon Ellie’s thirteen-year-old sister found us in the foyer. Her cinnamon-colored topknot bounced with each step, and I noticed her black and yellow fairfield middle school T-shirt had been cut into a crop top.
My mom would be horrified if she knew I was about to ask a seventh grader to do my hair.
“Hi, Audrey,” Tate said. “What’s up?”
“Do you have any availability today?” I made a big show of tugging my hair free from my ponytail.
Tate’s eyes widened, and soon we were studying her Pinterest together.
It was an archive of actresses, singers, and influencers.
A YouTuber named Steph was her current muse.
“What are you looking for?” she asked. “Classic?” She clicked on a photo of Margot Robbie as Barbie, all cascading butter-blond waves.
“Or drastic?” She switched to Billie Eilish circa neon green roots.
“Mmm,” I considered. Drastic was tempting, but not dyeing-my-hair-two-colors tempting. “Keep scrolling…”
“Oh yes!” Tate squealed when I finally made my choice. “Audrey, this is gonna be iconic.”
“Do you have all the stuff?” I glanced around her bedroom. Ellie had mentioned that Tate worked out of her en suite bathroom. Sure enough, there was a sign on the door that read the hair doctor & associates.
I both rolled my eyes and felt a pang in my chest. Henry, wannabe esquire, had definitely dreamed that up. He’d been close with Ellie’s sister.
“Most of it.” Tate nodded. “I can totally get the rest, though.” She paused. “Would you mind driving me to CVS?”