Chapter 15 Nellie Today #2
I was busy getting busy with my high school boyfriend and archnemesis.
“Well, you don’t have to be,” Rita says, “because, by that point, we were super drunk and may have ordered their entire cellar. So, you can have a bottle—or five.”
Sabrina nods in agreement. “That might have happened. Anyway, after that, things deteriorated a bit. At the next spot, Lydia started cozying up to the winemaker—or she thought he was the winemaker. I think he was maybe just an intern at the tasting room. By that time, Cara started to feel a little woozy and Damien was forcing the driver to blast Wu-Tang on the van’s sound system. It was weird.”
Rita nods, stuffing a shrimp in her face. “But not as weird as how many times Damien asked where you were.”
“So true. After like the eighth time, I started to wonder if all those blunts in the nineties did permanent damage.”
What the hell is up? How bored is he?
“So, what did you do?” Rita asks, all innocence.
“Yeah, what did you do?” Sabrina adds.
They exchange a look in a not-so-subtle way and then, as if choreographed, they look simultaneously back at me.
I must blush some kind of insane crimson, because Sabrina stands up and starts pointing at me with her reverse French-tip nail and, though she can’t get the words out because of all the crackers in her mouth, I know where she’s going.
“Shhh!” I say.
“Mmph!” she says.
“What’s happening?” Rita asks.
“Noah!” Sabrina finally blurts out.
“Oh,” says Rita. Then, “OH!” She leans in, eyes wide. “What happened?”
I motion for them to keep their voices down. The balcony Noah and I share is only one floor below.
“They hooked up!” Sabrina stage-whispers.
“How did you know?” I whisper back, mortified, but also a little relieved to have it out in the open. “Are you a witch?”
“I mean, yes, obviously,” Sabrina says, sitting back down. “But we didn’t know anything except that you both stayed behind—on purpose?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Definitely not on purpose. It was a total accident—and a mistake.”
They stare at me expectantly. I stare back at them.
“Well, dish!” Rita yelps. “C’mon. We’re old married folks. We don’t get dirt like this ever!”
“It’s not dirt!” I protest.
“Sorry, smut,” Sabrina says. “We don’t get smut ever. C’mon—what happened?”
So, I swear them to secrecy and then tell them the basics. And though I start out planning to censor certain parts, I wind up revealing it all.
When I describe storming out, Rita whistles. “Sorry, Nellie. But that is definitely dirt.”
“I’m proud of you,” Sabrina says, leaning over to pat my shoulder. “You got some! Also, I’m not going near that hot tub for at least forty-eight hours. That does not sound sanitary.”
“Yeah,” I scowl, grabbing some kind of candied nut for myself and stuffing it in my mouth—it is indeed fantastic. “Too bad he’s such an asshole.”
That’s when both women avert their eyes, look down, look away.
A hummingbird flits by. Rita points to it like it might distract me from what’s happening directly in front of my eyes.
“Nellie. Did we ever tell you about the time we saw like twenty hummingbirds when we were visiting my family in Mexico City?”
“Rita.”
“Yes?”
“You don’t think he’s an asshole?”
She presses her lips together. Shakes her head.
I deflate. “I thought we were Team NSA.”
“We are, we are,” Sabrina says, popping another olive in her mouth. “It’s just that… you didn’t really hear him out.”
“Hear him out?”
“Yeah. I mean, it kind of sounds like he was looking out for your best interests. I get that stopping was a buzzkill. But I’m not sure that makes him an asshole, per se.”
“I mean, we’re just two drunk witches,” Rita nods apologetically. “So, take what we say with a grain of salt.”
“A grain of this smoked paprika sea salt,” Sabrina says. “It’s to die…”
I try to adsorb what they’re saying. Did I overreact? It’s true that I distrusted him from the get-go. Or did I not do the incident justice in the retelling?
“But… he panicked.”
“Well, he pushed pause, which is pretty Herculean for a dude in his position if you think about it. And I know you’re assuming he changed his mind about you, but did he ever actually say that?
I feel like maybe he was trying to make sure you were all good.
That you were really consenting. And, no offense, but I’ll just say this because I’m drunk and can’t be held responsible for what comes out of my mouth—but you’re not always the best at accepting help. ”
Sabrina eyes me sideways like she’s not sure if I’m going to attack. But honestly, it’s not exactly a revelation—that’s something I’ve been working on unsuccessfully for a while now. I don’t like to need people. I don’t like to be a burden.
Sometimes, I know I take an offer of help as an insult.
“Well, that’s partially because when I asked Noah for help all those years ago, he didn’t just say no,” I say. “He disappeared.”
“Help with what?” Sabrina asks, leaning in. “Why did he disappear?”
I shake my head. I can’t go there. I’ve kept the truth about what broke me and Noah to myself for so many years. It’s going to take more than great olives to open me up.
“Maybe—maybe he was trying to make sure I didn’t get too attached,” I concede. “Before things went too far.”
“And acting like a grown-up?” Sabrina suggests.
“Don’t push it.”
She shrugs, sheepish. There’s a beat while we all stuff more appetizers in our faces.
“But anyway,” I say, “don’t you think this is just another nothing conquest for him? Like he’s just got a girl in every port, up and down the coast?”
“Is he in the navy in this scenario?”
Rita is shaking her head, her curls bobbing.
“No. No. Because he’s literally had one serious girlfriend since I’ve known him and, when that didn’t work out, he wouldn’t even go on a date or let anyone set him up for eons.
In fact, he even shot down that one woman from accounting—the intelligence-challenged one with the big boobs.
” She turns to Sabrina, gesturing at her chest. “Remember her?”
Sabrina is nodding. “Totally, totally. I think. The one with the shiny hair or the one with the vintage Corvette?”
And I am staring at them both, absorbed in this run-of-the-mill memory jog when what they’re saying starts to crystalize for me.
Rita and Noah being so buddy-buddy. Their warm greeting, despite never having had any reason to overlap before.
The way Sabrina’s unwillingness to talk to Noah seemed to hurt his feelings.
“Oh my God!” I yelp. And now it’s my turn to point a finger. “You guys have been hanging out with Noah. In LA! And you do it a lot!”
Sabrina’s eyes go wide. She freezes like a bunny in a floodlight. Only she is no innocent cottontail.
Rita eyes us both anxiously, bites her lip, starts binge-eating a dish of Marcona almonds.
“It just happened!” Sabrina bursts out, finally, covering her eyes with her palm.
“I can’t believe you! With all your bullshit Team NSA crap! Lies!”
“I know, I know,” she groans. “I’m the worst. But I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Um, how about just calling me? And telling me? Like maybe, ‘Hey, Nellie. You know that boy who shattered your heart into a billion pieces? He’s my new bestie.’ ”
“And Rita’s colleague,” Rita adds. She raises her shoulders to her ears, her hands meeting in front of her chest as if in prayer. “Sorry. I figure we might as well say all the things now.”
“You work together? Is that how you reconnected?”
How could I have been so dumb? I knew Rita worked in events for a sports team. I just didn’t know which one. They’re all the same to me.
Sabrina toggles her head, grits her teeth. “Rita may have recommended Noah for the job.”
“Oh my God! You’re that close?!”
“I posted about one of my gallery shows a few years ago, around the time he moved to town,” she says. “I guess he saw it and he came. Now, I know that’s just what he’s like—he always shows up. For events, for occasions, for birthdays…”
“Birthdays? You spend your birthdays with him?”
“He’s not just some jock, by the way,” she says, ignoring me. “He really loves art. He’s very knowledgeable. Did you know that about him?”
I did. Of course I did.
My mind is blown though, as I contemplate how many ridiculous conversations I’ve had with Sabrina since they became friends again—about how much we hated Noah and how he was the worst.
She never even liked him much back in the day, even when I did. Never took him seriously.
I cover my face with my hands. Too much humiliation for one day. “I can’t believe you let me go on and on about Team NSA,” I whine. “It’s so cringey. Ugh!”
Sabrina pops out of her seat and comes to kneel in front of me like I’m a knight and she’s a squire.
Like she’s Noah examining my arm. She grabs my hand—and it would be funny because it’s so absurd if I wasn’t feeling so betrayed.
“I am so sorry. Truly. But I love you. And I didn’t think it mattered much because you’re so rarely in LA and you never see him or anything.
Well, today you’ve seen a lot of him. Like a lot.
But you know what I mean. It seemed like it would just cause you unnecessary pain. ”
I sigh. “I guess I can see that.”
“Also, just as a reminder, I still don’t even know the details about what happened back in the day. And Noah won’t dish either, out of respect for you. One day, you were happily ever after—at least mostly—and the next you were putting a hex on his house.”
“I thought you were the witch.”
“Can’t there be two?”
“Three!” Rita volunteers, her hand up.
“Anyway, I am so sorry.”
“We are so sorry,” says Rita, leaning in.
I grumble and cross my arms.
“Do you still love us?” Sabrina asks, tipping her head sideways and shooting me her best doe eyes.
I groan. Roll my eyes. Give in too easily, my shoulders dropping. I don’t have it in me to hold a grudge. “Well, obviously. But please. In the future, do not lie to me again!”