Chapter 49
“Hello!” Gwen and Madeline coursed in unison when Vic strode into the shop.
“It’s been too long,” Gwen added.
“Waaaay too long.”
Which was hilarious because she’d been in with Michael just two days earlier—but Vic also knew exactly what they meant. She paused by the payment counter and inhaled audibly through her nose, relishing the familiar, soothing lemon-candy scent of the shop.
“This place is my happy place, for sure,” she said and wasn’t embarrassed saying it aloud.
Madeline laughed. “And remember you used to wonder why Gwen and I were so sure you were one of us?”
“I do remember—” Vic dropped her purse, unwrapped her scarf, and peeled off her puffer coat. “It feels like forever ago, but I’m still so grateful.”
“So, tell all, tell all!” Gwen commanded when Vic returned from stashing her winter things in the staffroom. “It feels like your week off was ten months long. How was your visit with Michael?”
But Vic didn’t get a chance to say. The minute she opened her mouth to reply, the bells over the door jingled, and a rush of customers flowed in—and the deluge didn’t stop. The three of them barely managed to squeak in their lunch breaks.
“Ooof,” Madeline exclaimed when she locked the door after the last person left at the end of the day—fifteen minutes after their usual closing time. “Which one of us foolishly said this is their happy place?”
Gwen and Vic both shook their heads and laughed. Madeline could feign as many complaints as she liked; she wasn’t fooling anyone. She loved the store best when it was a madhouse.
Vic bit her lip, then took the plunge. She’d been wanting to ask all day but hadn’t got the chance. The worst they could say was no.
“I know it’s last minute, but do you guys have dinner plans?”
“I do now.” Madeline grinned.
“Grant won’t mind?”
“Well, he’ll die of loneliness for me, of course, but that’s good for him once in a while.”
“It’s perfect for me too. Daniel’s taking the crew to a movie, and I’d already begged off.”
Vic felt a twinge at Madeline and Gwen’s mention of their men and the tangible affection they obviously felt for them—but it wasn’t jealousy. Not at all. She was happy for them. It was longing, maybe?
“Yippee!” Madeline said. “Thanks for wrangling us into this. Without you, Gwen would’ve just gone home and done more work.”
“Guilty as charged.”
Vic gave Audra a quick call and let her know she’d be late but would bring her home something for dinner.
Audra didn’t even sound particularly cranky, but she just couldn’t help herself. She had to gripe. “I get it. I get it. Girls’ night out is more important.”
“It’s not that—”
Audra interrupted. “Don’t worry about bringing me anything from the restaurant. You made that nice split pea soup the other day. That’ll be just fine.”
Vic blinked. Okay, then.
They all resoundingly agreed: sushi it would be.
Madeline hefted Boots up and gave him a noisy kiss on the nose. He rumbled into purring immediately. “I’ll be back for you later—and I’ll bring you tuna,” she promised.
Soon they were tucked away at a little table, sipping miso and waiting for what, from the amount they’d ordered, seemed like it would be their body weight in sashimi, tempura, and rolls.
Vic sighed happily.
“Okay, now that there won’t be any interruptions, tell us all about Michael,” Madeline encouraged.
So Vic did. She ate delicious tidbits with her friends and shared all the details, good, bad, and ugly. And she didn’t feel ashamed or like she was some big failure. Through it all, Gwen and Madeline listened intently—and shared their own experiences as they related.
“Motherhood, oof. It’s not for the weak,” Madeline said at one point.
“Good thing we’re tough as fudge then, isn’t it?” Gwen’s eyes glinted.
“I don’t know, Gwen,” Vic wisecracked back. “Is ‘fudge’ really that tough?”
“Ha ha,” Gwen said.
Madeline twinkled. “Yes, Gwen’s potty mouth is infamous in these parts.”
The conversation moved from Michael to Audra—wow, she was a fun night out, wasn’t she?
—but Madeline and Gwen didn’t seem to mind.
And they’d asked, so what was she supposed to do?
Not share? She told them about her “We need to talk” conversation with Audra and how it had gone way better than she thought it would.
“Make sure you hold her to her word about the doctor,” Gwen said.
“I will. She’ll book it this week, or I will—and I’m planning to accompany her. I’m hoping they’ll let me come in with her.”
“They should—if your mom’s willing, that is.”
Vic and Gwen exchanged a look, then Vic widened her eyes exaggeratedly. “In a perfect world,” she said darkly.
“I’ve got to meet this woman,” Madeline announced. “She sounds amazing.”
Vic was slightly at a loss. “Um, that’s an interesting take.”
Gwen giggled.
The tealight decorating the table had burned low, and their various platters of shared food were nothing more than bits of rice and garnish when the conversation turned to Cal—as Vic knew it would eventually. She was surprised it had taken this long.
“So, what did Michael think of Cal?” Gwen asked. “You were planning to introduce them, right?”
“Yeah, about that . . .” Vic hesitated, then thought, what the heck? It wasn’t as if Madeline and Gwen didn’t know her struggles. Just for some reason, they didn’t hold them against her.
“Ugh, Monika,” Madeline and Gwen said simultaneously when Vic had finished the story of her humiliation at Jack’s.
They both pulled the exact same face as they said it too.
Never in a million years would Vic have thought she’d laugh regarding Monika—or especially so soon—but here she was.
Laughing until she was breathless, in fact.
“Gwen has nightmare stories involving her, too,” Madeline said.
Vic gaped at Gwen. “You don’t mean… nightmares from after high school was over?”
Gwen waggled her eyebrows and gave a wry smile.
“Seriously? I know Monika had an axe to grind with you then, but as an adult?”
“Try, last year,” Madeline said. “It defies imagination.”
Gwen nodded. “She must be a deeply unhappy person or something, but, man, does she seem to get a kick out of making people miserable.” Then she shared the high—or low—notes of her own saga with Monika, and Vic’s mind boggled. Compared to Gwen, she’d gotten off lucky.
“But Cal had to see through her and Kelsey,” Gwen continued a bit later. “He was a year ahead of us, sure, but his sister Carrie hung out with Monika occasionally. I even heard he dated Monika a couple of times. He must know what she’s like.”
Vic shrugged. “I don’t think it’s about Monika so much as it’s about him being shocked by who I am.”
“Not who you are,” Madeline said staunchly. “A couple dumb things you did when you were grieving and lost in the woods.”
“You—” Vic pointed a chopstick at Madeline “—are kind and loyal to your friends to an almost pathological degree.”
“Pathological. You love that word—and yep, now you’re really starting to get me.” Madeline grinned at the same time as Gwen said, “It’s one of her very best qualities.”
A server popped by the table and asked if they wanted more tea. They all looked at each other.
“Just one more cup. Thank you!” Vic said, and Madeline and Gwen both nodded.
“I’m going to need a trolley to wheel me out of here,” Gwen said contentedly.
“Me too.”
“Dibs on pushing you two loafers,” Madeline said, then grew serious. “So, that’s it for you and Cal, really?”
“Yeah, I think so . . .” A tiny bit of the joy that had hugged Vic all night loosened.
“I’m not saying you should or shouldn’t, or that this is one of those times or not,” Gwen said, “but sometimes if you really want something or someone, you have to fight for them.”
Vic nodded. “True—and for the first time ever in my life, the someone I want to fight for is me.”
Madeline inhaled sharply, then nodded. So did Gwen.
“I didn’t hurt Cal,” Vic continued, “and I would’ve shared my side, reassured him that the things he’s worried about, though real, are also things I’m working hard to never do again.
He either sees me, the real me that I’m intent on being, or .
. .” She shrugged. “He doesn’t. Either way, I’m done begging for a man’s scraps.
I would rather be alone and lonely sometimes—a hundred, no, a thousand times, over—than to supposedly be with someone and always feel alone.
” Vic felt the truth of her words, her own conviction, right to her very core. She shivered.
Before Gwen or Madeline could respond, applause burst out behind Vic, and a loud, slurred voice cheered, “Hear, hear!”
Startled, Vic turned in her chair—and faced a woman about their age dining alone, seated directly behind her, who had also turned in her chair—apparently because she’d overheard their conversation and gotten pulled into it.
The woman looked so miserable that Vic couldn’t feel self-conscious or intruded upon.
A fading rose. The description dropped into Vic’s head from who knew where, as she took in the curvy woman amply filling her chair.
And it was fitting. Blonde with attractive, slightly darker roots, she had Marilyn Monroe curls and the kind of alabaster skin, even with her cheeks pinkened from alcohol, crying, or both, that Renaissance painters depicted.
Her pale blue—gray?—eyes were huge and luminous, though, like her cheeks, slightly reddened. Vic recognized the flattering, though rumpled, tunic she wore as Italian linen.
The woman stopped clapping abruptly, as if just becoming aware of Vic’s surprised-rather-than-intentional scrutiny and Gwen and Madeline’s equally, momentarily startled silence.
“Oh my . . .” The woman’s voice faltered. She shook her head. Vic was certain, even in the dim light, that she saw a fresh swell of tears fill the woman’s eyes.
“I’m so sorry.” Another headshake. Then an outstretched hand and tentative upcurve of her full mouth.
“My listening in, my interruption . . . I am . . . unforgivable. I’m Leigh.
Leigh Carter. I’m mortified—and drunk. Sooo drunk.
I promise I will turn around and let you have your visit in peace.
” She continued to babble, though. “I’m a mess, just a frunken drunken mess. I’m sorry.”
Vic laughed, and not just because of the funny, softened—intentionally or not—expletive and its rhyme. She took Leigh’s extended hand and shook it. “Vic. And the very last thing you ever have to do is apologize to me for being a mess.”
“Or to any of us,” Gwen added. The trio exchanged a look, and Vic widened her eyes in a silent question.
Madeline and Gwen nodded.
“We’re not staying a lot longer, but would you like to join us for a final final cup of tea?”