Chapter 15
THE FURNACE TOOK A COUPLE OF HOURS TO heat up, and I had to stop myself from dancing around the hot shop as I worked, almost able to hear the adrenaline humming inside me.
I first tried to make a vase, and after blowing my first bubble, I rolled it in a bowl of blue-green frit—sugar-sized granules of glass—to change the color to a shade called seafoam.
In the end, I failed miserably. The vase soon grew too heavy for my blowpipe, and without an assistant to help me, it broke off and smashed on the concrete floor. I swore under my breath, then couldn’t help but laugh.
It felt so damn good to be back.
After that, I switched to my mermaid teardrop pendants and moved quickly. I’d just placed my tenth in the annealer when I heard someone shout my name.
Trying not to visibly jump in surprise, I took out my AirPods and turned to see Ellie standing in the doorway. “Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”
“I was running an errand in town,” she said. “You and Henry weren’t in school today, so I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Uh, yeah,” I said, a little confused. A check-in text would’ve been easier. “I wasn’t feeling well this morning, so…” I shrugged.
“All of your work is so incredible,” Ellie said before things could become awkward. She pointed across the hot shop, at the inventory shelves.
“Thanks,” I said. “Half of it is good, half of it was a learning experience.”
Ellie laughed. “Henry always said you were humble.”
Except I’m not, I thought. I knew I was a good glassblower, and with the right instructor, I could become a great glassblower. I feel it in my bones, I’d once said to Henry. I can be amazing at this someday.
“So…” Ellie took a deep breath. “I heard.”
My stomach swished.
She’d heard? About the brownies? Had Henry told her?
“Griff found me at lunch,” she continued. “His dad met the Fishers at Bedtime Stories?”
Oh, okay, I thought, relaxing a little. She gave me a wary look when I half lied that I wasn’t too worried. “Griff’s mom likes to talk,” she said. “If his dad mentioned it to her…”
“I’m not worried,” I repeated.
Ellie folded her arms over her chest. “I’m just trying to help.”
“I know.” I smiled gently. “And I really appreciate it.”
“Has anyone booked for this weekend?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “A woman from Brazil. She arrives tomorrow.”
“Wow.” Ellie looked impressed. “Where in Brazil?”
“Rio. She’s originally from here, though.” Valerie was in her forties, and had a third-round job interview in Manhattan on Friday.
“When should we clean the apartment?” Ellie offered, almost sounding hopeful.
“Oh, thank you.” I felt caught a little off guard—a little nervous. Ellie and I hadn’t hung out alone in… well, I was glad I could say, “Once Griff gets here.”
He’d texted me while I was sweeping up my shattered vase.
“Fine with me.” Ellie started browsing my shelves. “How did you get the flowers on this?” she asked, picking up a cup, and after I told her, she moved on to my pendants. “Is Golightly Glass going to have an ‘everything must go’ sale soon?”
“Uh, no.” My brows knitted together. “What makes you think that?”
“No reason.” She shrugged. “I’ve been thinking a lot about change lately. If you’re blowing glass at Blue Ridge and Henry’s busy at NYU… won’t things be different? Hard?”
I shifted from one foot to the other; Henry and I hadn’t talked about that yet.
It wasn’t like Golightly Glass was firmly rooted here—I could rent studio time to blow my pendants in any big city (and with better equipment!) and Henry could potentially work out of his dorm room—but was Ellie right? Would we both be too busy?
And even if I could blow pieces in my spare time, would Golightly Glass still feel like Golightly Glass without Henry?
My heart quavered at the thought of not being able to look over at the worktable to see Henry sipping iced coffee while printing out USPS labels or packaging glassware and humming along to our new playlist. Golightly Glass was more than just tumblers and Christmas ornaments.
I tried to subtly clear my throat. “How’s Chase been?”
“Fine.” Ellie was nonchalant. “He left this morning for his internship.”
“Really? I thought that started next week.”
Did I remember Ellie mentioning the first week of June? Vaguely?
“It does, but he’s at Lake George with friends right now,” Ellie said. “My parents might let me go up this weekend.”
I nodded, wondering if she really wanted to go to the Adirondacks.
It sounded more like a chore than something she was excited about, and I found myself wanting to cheer her up.
Ellie had come to clean, so we were going to clean.
“You know what,” I said. “Forget about Griff. Let’s head upstairs and whip Fair Winds into shape! ”
Ellie smiled and we climbed Fair Winds’ steps together.
I felt my phone buzz in my back pocket as I entered the four-digit code to the lockbox anchored on the door handle.
Sure enough, the Fishers had left the gold key inside—along with a teensy-tiny folded piece of paper.
It fell out and Ellie swept it up before I could.
“‘Again, we’re so sorry,’” she read aloud. “‘We truly didn’t know!’” She gave me a quizzical look. “What does that mean?”
“They smoked some pot the other night,” I said casually. I was so not going to tell her the whole truth. “I listed Fair Winds as a nonsmoking property, but they missed that part.”
“Gross.” Ellie wrinkled her nose. “Gummies would’ve been much more considerate.”
I laughed a little, tapping my phone to see a text from Griff.
He was going to be late.
My heart dipped a little, but at least he’d offered to bring milkshakes.
“Looks like it’s just you and me,” I said, showing Ellie the text.
“Mmm,” was all she said.
The Fishers hadn’t been as neat as Sandy and Ron, but the aroma of their chai tea was less pungent than Ron’s Old Bay.
They did use more towels than I’d known were even in the linen closet, and there were some stains I preferred not to identify on the bedsheets, but all in all, nothing to vomit over.
“No need to brag that you have a stronger stomach than me!” Ellie exclaimed after I teased her for gagging, to which I replied, “Tampons in the trash would’ve been a different story… ”
Ellie wiped down the kitchen while I vacuumed and straightened up the bedroom. There were a couple of books on the nightstand, one of them an old copy of Joanne Fluke’s Cherry Cheesecake Murder and the other a guide to mushrooms.
Okay, then, I thought, but decided to add them to the eclectic assortment on the bookshelf.
The only other weird thing was the dresser.
Despite the decorative silver tray that sat on top, it looked a little bare.
It took me a moment to realize that the ship’s bell clock was missing.
My mom had found it in London, and it was gorgeous and timeless with its shiny hardwood base and brass case. Perfect for “tastefully nautical.”
My guess was Leslie or Brian had tucked it away somewhere to muffle the noise.
Per tradition, the clock chimed eight times—at four, eight, and twelve—to mark the end of a mariner’s four-hour watch.
The setting was easy enough to disable, but my mom didn’t want to compromise the clock’s authenticity.
Maybe in the bunk room? I guessed, but on my way to check, Ellie called my name and I made a detour to the kitchen. She held up one of Rise & Grind’s signature bakery boxes.
For Audrey & Boyfriend, I read the accompanying note as Ellie said, “This is addressed to you.”
“What’s inside?” I asked, even though I had an inkling.
“Brownies.”
My stomach swished with revulsion. I never wanted to eat brownies again.
“Have as many as you want,” I told her. “I know you’ve given up desserts, but…”
She cocked her head. “I told you I’m off sweets?”
Shit, I thought, pulse pounding. You aren’t supposed to know that! She told her mom in confidence at TJ’s!
I had to play this cool, so I shrugged. “You might’ve? I think?”
“Oh, maybe,” she replied. “But Rise & Grind’s brownies have always been my weakness…”
I waved my hand. Go for it!
“Henry has met guests?” Ellie asked three brownies later.
“Nope,” I said. “I’ve just mentioned him a couple of times.”
As your “boyfriend,” the voice in my head whispered. And it makes you feel taller, it makes you smile more…
My heart twisted. I know I didn’t need a boyfriend to be happy, but…
Having one, even a fake one, made me feel more like a glass-half-full person.
Ellie nodded. “How’re things with him?”
“Good,” I answered.
“That’s it? Good?”
What does she want me to say? I wondered. Am I supposed to gush about how much I love her ex-boyfriend?
I mean, of course I was supposed to—this was a golden opportunity in our evil plan to make Ellie jealous, to make her realize what she had given up and then see the light and run back into Henry’s arms. Henry this, Henry that, let’s talk everything Henry and only Henry!
But I found that I didn’t want to talk about Henry. Ellie hadn’t sounded like she was totally over their breakup, and I didn’t want to rub it in even more. Guilt felt like slime coating my skin.
I also wanted to keep Henry to myself. I didn’t want to share what we talked about together or our inside jokes or how determined he was to find my nonexistent ticklish spot. That stuff was all ours.
Henry, in a way, now felt like mine.
Would he still feel that way when we went back to being just best friends?
“He asked me to prom last night” was the one tidbit I finally gave Ellie.
“Oh, really?” She blinked. “How?”
Fortunately, I’d remembered more from last night, despite having been high as a kite. “We were talking about The Theory of Everything—you know, the Stephen Hawking movie—and he asked me if he should wear tails to prom. Go really old-school.” I rolled my eyes affectionately.
Ellie smiled weakly. “If anyone can pull off tails, it’s Henry Chen.”
“No way,” I said. “I love him, but he’s not tall enough.”