14
T he breakfast cake was from a box, just the way MC liked it, with those edible candy letters on top. They said: YOU ARE OLD!
After Gabby and Conrad had sung her a full-throated rendition of the happy birthday song, which ended with Conrad riffing Mariah Carey–style on the final “you,” Gabby said she had a gift for MC.
“We’re going to Fall Fest!” she said, clapping her hands. “I will be showering you with candy apples while your brother locks himself in the basement for his usual Saturday you-know-what sesh.”
MC nearly choked on her cake. When she got her breath again, she said, “I’m going to have a million cavities after this weekend.”
“Mom always said you should’ve gotten braces.” Conrad patted her shoulder. “Now you can have veneers.”
“Speaking of Mom,” MC said, “do you think she’s okay? I got a long voicemail from her this morning. Usually it’s just”—MC put on a monotone—“ Wishing you a year of happiness and success .”
Conrad smirked. “Did she wish you happiness, success, and a new girlfriend or something?”
“No. But she said she misses us?”
“When I told her you were visiting, she was like, ‘What? Why? Is she in trouble?’ And when I said you were fine, she went dead silent.”
“You guys are assholes,” Gabby said, somehow managing to sound warmhearted about the declaration. “She’s just awkward. And neither of you give her any opening to be emotional.”
Conrad picked up a slice of cake in his bare hand and took a bite. “Isn’t it her job,” he said, still chewing, “to give the opening?”
“In an ideal world. But this isn’t an ideal world.”
“The therapist has spoken.” Conrad put on his thickest Long Island accent. “I need to treat my motha betta.”
MC started laughing, until she realized Gabby wasn’t.
The first day of November was, as Joe would’ve put it, iconic.
Red, orange, and gold leaves shining in the sun.
The faintest hint of smoke on the wind. A nice base layer of crisp decay crackling underfoot as Gabby and MC got in the Destroyer of Worlds that afternoon.
MC hadn’t been to Fall Fest since she was a kid, but she had strong memories of hot apple cider in paper cups, denim jackets and itchy wool scarves, and toilet paper being cleaned from the branches outside the brick hall where the festival took place.
It was a sprawling building at the top of a grassy hill near one of the town’s churches, with a high-ceilinged entrance where people voted in elections, shopped for used books during the library’s annual fundraiser, and surveyed local jewelry, cutting boards, and ornaments at the craft fair.
MC frowned as Gabby parked in the gravel lot next to the field. “Am I going to see everyone from our childhood right now?”
“Probably.”
Gabby—seemingly over the awkward exchange with Conrad that morning—got out and linked elbows with MC, who’d had to borrow her brother’s olive-green bomber jacket on account of coming unprepared for the chilly weather.
It was too big, but MC had rolled up the sleeves and tried to fill it out with an oversize black hoodie.
Otherwise she was in her usual jeans and a ratty pair of white sneakers, Gabby outclassing her in every way with a gray peacoat, flowy skirt, and leather boots.
As expected, they ran into a whole cast of characters from MC’s youth: Mrs. Singh, MC’s friend Puja’s mom, who told MC that Puja was putting her wisecracking to good use as a stand-up comic out in LA; Dan Sommers, who ran the deli where MC and Joe had always gone for onion rings and gummy worms; Clog Man, an elderly gentleman and former professor known for walking very slowly through town in a pair of hand-carved wooden clogs, no socks, even in winter; Claire and Chrissy DeVecchio, twin sisters a year older than MC and Gabby, who’d played, in annual alternation, the damsel in distress and the villain to Conrad’s leading man in their school plays; and Jim McDade, a friend of Conrad’s and one of Joe’s high school crushes, who was already going gray, possibly due to having two kids under three.
“Ugh,” Gabby said, “how cute are they?”
One child was carrying and dropping a pumpkin in silent rage. The other was picking his nose.
“I like the matching outfits,” MC said.
“Me too. God, I’m so ready to have kids.”
MC couldn’t even imagine such a feeling, though she’d always pictured a future with a family that included children, who would come about, somehow, fully formed, no pregnancy or babyhood required. “What about Con?” she said.
Gabby smiled, but it looked forced. “He’s a little more nervous.”
“Guys are like that. Right?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
MC tried not to think about the way Conrad and Jae had been shoulder to shoulder in the doorway last night, looking out into the darkness. “He’s always been very independent,” she said carefully. “I’m sure he’s just wondering how kids will affect his lifestyle.”
“Wondering?” Gabby laughed. “Sometimes he talks about it like it’s going to be the apocalypse.”
“The end of one kind of life, the beginning of another...”
“See, you could do my job.”
“If you and Joe were my only clients.”
“Speaking of, are you seeing him tonight? Conrad said you were on the fence.”
“Still there. I don’t know why I’m not feeling the original plan. Brooklyn dance party. Some drugs. The dream.”
“Uh, I know why you’re not feeling it.”
“You do?”
“Because you’re feeling Nora Pike.” She looped elbows with MC again. “Also, can we trade places? Minus the drugs.”
“Do you want to? I’ve been trying to think of an excuse to duck out of it all morning.”
“I was kind of kidding. It’s your freaking birthday!”
“Well, happy birthday,” said a familiar voice. “I’m not big on presents, but how about a renewal on your overdue history books?”
Lois had appeared next to them at the pumpkin-painting table, Nora at her side. MC’s heart automatically started beating faster at the sight of Nora in her high-collared leather jacket and low-cut black top.
Lois grabbed a speckled ear of corn from the decorative display and pointed it at MC. “They loved sex, those Byzantines.”
MC cleared her throat. “So they did.”
“The problem with history is, only the most boring stuff makes it to the surface,” Lois went on, straightening her fuzzy orange cardigan. “Who cares about the fall of Rome? I’ll take the X-rated sequel any day.”
“Lois,” MC said, “this is Gabby, my sister-in-law. Nora, you guys already know each other. Obviously.”
Nora stared coolly at Gabby as Gabby took Lois’s hand.
“I think you helped me with a research project a few years ago,” Gabby said, beaming. “I was writing my thesis.”
“Someone’s actually gotta work in that place,” Lois said, eyeing Nora.
“Are you guys closed today?” MC asked.
“No. But I got us the day off. Helen knows we love to see the knitwear.”
MC looked at Nora and said, “Understandable.”
“Actually,” said Gabby, an even bigger grin spreading across her face, “this is kind of perfect.”
“What’s perfect?” Nora said darkly.
“Running into each other.” Gabby hugged MC’s shoulders.
“As you heard, it’s my very dear sister-in-law’s birthday today, but Conrad and I both have so much work to catch up on.
We were feeling terrible about leaving MC on her own, especially when it’s going to be a perfect fall night to celebrate. ..”
“I don’t need to celebrate,” MC said. “I mean, we already celebrated. This is the celebration.” She didn’t know what Gabby was doing—Nora had already made it clear she didn’t want to spend any time with MC that day.
But Gabby was undeterred. “Are you around tonight, Nora? I seem to remember you both being pizza fiends, and I happen to know all MC wants for her big day is a slice from Delfino’s.”
“I have plans,” Nora said.
“What plans?” said Lois.
Nora shot her a look. “Plans.”
“I’m sure she can reschedule them,” Lois said. “Not good to be alone on your birthday. Nora was alone on hers just a few weeks ago.”
Nora pressed her lips together. “Thank you, Lois.”
“Oh my god,” said Gabby, “a double celebration is in order.”
MC remembered a few choice pieces of Girl Next Door fan art, including a Titanic -esque sketch of grown-up Michaela sprawled out on her side, licking the tip of a pizza slice.
She was about to reassure Nora that a night to herself was totally fine—and if Gabby was angling for a ticket to the dance party, she could have it regardless—but then Nora sighed.
“Fine,” she said. “We can meet there at seven.”
“Perfect,” Gabby said. “Except Conrad might be working at the school. Is there any chance you guys could take Nora’s car?”
MC looked sheepishly at Nora, who rolled her eyes.
After they’d parted ways, MC threw her hands in the air and said, “What was that?”
“Teamwork!” Gabby sang.
“I don’t recall participating.”
“You laid the foundation. I took things to their natural conclusion.”
“Meaning I go to dinner with Nora, and you go out dancing with Joe?”
“Exactly.”
MC had to call him. She left Gabby at a tent where a folksy-looking duo were tuning their guitars.
Joe answered on the second ring.
“Holy shit, you’re at Fall Fest.”
“I thought we agreed to use location-tracking for emergency purposes only.”
“Are you drinking a hot cider in your mittens? Are you picking out a stained glass ornament for me? Are you bobbing for apples while Nora waits for the right moment to grab your ass and grind all over it?”
“Oh my god, Joe. None of the above. But let me know if you actually want an ornament.”
“Also, happy birthday.”
“Thanks. Listen, I told Gabby about the party tonight, and she’s very interested. Any chance she could have my ticket and go with you instead?”
“Are you ditching me?”
She sighed. “You’ll be happy to hear I’ve made other plans.”
“Such as?”
“Going to Delfino’s with Nora.”
A pause. “That’s. My. Girl.”
“Try not to get too excited. This is a very forced arrangement.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“You realize how creepy you sound.”
“I guess. Anyway, your job is to get her drunk .”
“Joe.”
“Come on, you know what I mean.”
“I’m not going to get her drunk.” She raked a hand through her hair. “Talking to you right now is actually reminding me how messed up this is.”
“Except we are going to make it not messed up by threading the fine needles of our minds through this excellent scoop without destroying anyone’s life. Remember?”
“Yeah, once we figure out how to actually do that.”
“I have faith.”
“In what, exactly?”
“You. And the pagan gods of the autumnal equinox.”
She sighed. “I’ll keep you posted, okay?”
“Babe, I’ll be hanging on your every word.”