Chapter 11
ELEVEN
BETH
THANKSGIVING
Beth had been standing at the bottom of the steps leading up to Sarah’s front door for five minutes, a container of smoked salmon dip in hand—her contribution to Thanksgiving dinner. It was about noon. She was right on time, but something in her was stopping her from going inside.
The gentle hum of an engine pulled her attention as Liv’s Bronco rolled down the driveway, parking behind Beth’s Landrover.
“Hey! You made it!” Liv said excitedly, grabbing a case of wine from the trunk of her car. “Sarah said you were still a maybe when I talked to her last week.”
“I made it.” Beth smiled weakly.
In all honesty, she had thought about texting Sarah that morning, making up some excuse, some reason—something to get her out of this.
She wasn’t sure she had the energy today.
Thanksgiving had been her and Jamie’s holiday, when they’d celebrate with Lily by jetting off to warmer climates.
Last Thanksgiving, the first after Jamie died, had felt like a blur.
Beth had still been wading through the thick fog of grief, vaguely recalling Sean and Pat stopping by to bring her some food.
The front door swung open and Nell greeted them with a large, wide grin, her dark hair braided over one shoulder. She wore an apron with a photo of her, Sarah, and Nate next to a burned turkey.
“Hi, come on in.” Nell, elegant even in that apron, stood on the front porch as Beth and Liv climbed the front steps. Her steel blue eyes landed curiously on Liv as she took the dish Beth was holding.
“Nell, Liv; Liv, Nell,” Beth said, making the introduction. “Nell is—”
“Sarah’s ex-girlfriend,” Nell said cleanly.
Liv smiled, not missing a beat. “Oh, Beth, what a complicated family tree you’re building.
” She nudged her with her elbow, causing Beth to roll her eyes.
“Nell, ex-girlfriend of Sarah, any chance we can gain entry to this humble abode? This box of wine is heavy as shit.” Liv shifted the box’s weight to her hip.
Nell stepped aside, making space for Liv to pass, but as Beth followed, Nell stopped her with a gentle hand on her forearm. “She’s an odd one.”
Beth almost laughed at the absurdity because had Nell met herself? “Some might say the same about you.” She raised a challenging eyebrow, smiling.
Nell Stanhope was a hard woman to understand.
At first glance, Beth could see how some people might find her cold, calculating, and a little controlling.
Beth had thought all of those things at one point or another when Sarah first started bringing Nell around.
But the more she got to know Nell—the more their walls came down around each other—the deeper Beth’s appreciation for Nell and the impact she had on Sarah’s happiness grew.
Beth had been unsure when Sarah had told her about their relationship—Nell being aromantic and the two of them just genuinely wanting different things out of life felt like a red flag—but then Beth got to witness them together and how they were around each other.
Complete equals. Clear communication. Always on the same page.
It was enviable. And even now, after Sarah and Nell had broken up, they still had that—a reminder that lasting relationships, romantic or platonic, are all built on the same foundations.
A deep, full laugh bubbled up through Nell at Beth’s retort, making tiny crinkles appear at the corners of her eyes. “Oh, I’m so pleased you came.” She beamed, wrapping Beth in a sincere hug.
“Don’t you have a turkey to tend to?” Sarah’s teasing voice wafted down the hall before she appeared. “Haven’t you been claiming that this is the year you finally successfully cook that damn bird?”
“She’s right.” Nell chuckled, placing a hand on Sarah’s bicep, looking at her with total adoration.
Beth shifted slightly; she had always struggled with her jealousy of watching others adore Sarah.
Something that had gotten her into trouble in the past. She had no right to be jealous.
She knew that. And besides, Sarah was an impressive woman; she deserved adoration in whatever ways made her happy.
“Make yourself comfortable, help yourself to anything in the house you want,” Nell called as she made her way back into the kitchen, leaving Sarah and Beth standing awkwardly in the foyer.
She and Sarah hadn’t seen each other since that night at Sarah’s a few weeks ago.
Not since Beth had left so quickly, overwhelmed by the surge of familiar feelings that came rushing to the surface.
Not after that moment—or whatever it was—between them that had sent up a violent warning sign telling her not to cross the boundary Sarah had so clearly set with her three years ago in that very living room.
“What did you mean by successfully cooking the turkey?” Beth asked, curious, because this was Thanksgiving after all.
“Oh, that.” Sarah laughed, the sound filling Beth’s chest, taking the edge off her unease.
“Nell sucks at cooking turkey. The woman can make business deals so cut-throat it would make even the most seasoned venture capitalist cry, but she can’t cook a damn turkey.
But she really enjoys trying.” Sarah smiled before adding, “Don’t worry, I tasked Sean and Pat with turkey duty.
They’ll be here in about an hour with an edible bird. ”
Beth nodded, acknowledging Sarah’s explanation. She slid her coat from her shoulders, holding it in front of her as Sarah tucked her hands in the front pocket of her jeans, rocking forward on the balls of her feet.
“So, I—” Sarah started at the same time Beth began speaking.
“I’m sorry—I—”
The awkwardness would have been painful if it were anyone else, but this was Sarah, and she was Beth. Communication had never been their strength; they had fumbled their way through nearly every type of conversation two people could have at some point or another in their lives together.
“You go,” Sarah said, a cautious smile on her lips.
Beth drew in a slow breath, buying herself a moment to try and arrange her swirling thoughts in some sort of linear pattern.
“I wanted to apologize for leaving so quickly the other week. You set a very, very clear boundary with me, you know, back when you and Nell were dating and I’m afraid I may have inadvertently crossed it that night, you know, when you slipped and…
” Beth trailed off, gulping as she recalled the heat that passed between them when she had come crashing down on top of Sarah.
The way Sarah had looked at her—how that look made her feel something so familiar.
For a moment, Sarah didn’t say anything, and Beth couldn’t help the way her mind started to spin on all the ways she had already overstepped with Sarah over the last few months.
None of which had been a part of her plan as she and Sarah had worked to repair their friendship.
She knew what was making this so hard. It was what she had identified that day in Sarah’s rental car as they sat in the parking lot of the gymnastics competition in Philadelphia three years ago.
All that love she had for Sarah had never gone away following their divorce, it had just changed shape—and now that shape was starting to shift again.
“Oh, that? Don’t worry about that,” Sarah said, unbothered, her shoulders relaxing. “You didn’t cross any boundary, Beth. I invited you over. If anything, I should be apologizing to you. I overstepped. You asked me to listen, not for solutions, and I couldn’t help myself—”
“It worked,” Beth interrupted.
She wanted Sarah to know exactly what had happened after she left so suddenly. How she went home, straight to her studio, and painted until the early hours of the morning, until her eyes were so heavy with sleep she could barely keep them open.
“That night—god, this feels so silly to say out loud, but whatever you did that night, it unlocked something in me that’s been stuck for a really, really long time and I truly can’t thank you enough.”
Sarah grinned a wide, toothy smile. “So, are you saying my solution delivered results?”
Beth rolled her eyes. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.
And also—thank you.” She hoped Sarah could hear the sincerity behind her words.
Hoped Sarah really understood what a big moment this was for her because without her creativity, she had felt like a piece of driftwood, slowly bobbing along in the water of life.
“So, can I come in? Or am I the only guest who has to stay in the foyer?”
“You’re never a guest in my house, Beth. You’re family and you know that,” Sarah said softly, turning on her heel, inviting Beth to follow her.
“Lily, Wren, and Dylan all got up an hour ago and are watching the recording of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in the living room. I think Nate’s with them, too.” They entered the kitchen where Nell was hurriedly scribbling something on a notepad while Liv sipped from the glass in her hand.
“There is no way in hell that turkey comes out done,” Liv muttered, offering Beth the open wine bottle, which she declined.
“Don’t worry, I hear there’s a backup on the way,” Beth whispered, winking as she caught Sarah’s eye.
The four of them settled into a comfortable rhythm of conversation.
Beth took a purposeful backseat. If she were honest with herself, she’d acknowledge the way her old insecurity of not being enough was creeping in as she listened to the quick-paced conversation playing out before her.
There was Nell, a highly accomplished businesswoman—a literal billionaire.
Liv, who, well, Beth didn’t quite know what Liv did for work because every time she had tried to ask, Liv changed the subject, but Beth could tell that whatever it was, she was good at it based solely on how Liv spoke and carried herself.
Sarah, accomplished in her own right as a lawyer, now the head of Nell’s giving foundation.
And then there was Beth, a part-time barista with lingering painter’s block.