13. Thirteen
Thirteen
H annah Farthering was without a doubt the greatest best friend in the universe. Exhibit A: her kitchen bar, laden with burger fixings and butter buns.
“You didn’t have to feed me,” Leslie said.
“I know how hard you work. And I know when you’re tired, you don’t bother eating even though you enjoy it.”
“You work hard too.”
Hannah shook her head. “Not saying I don’t. But I’m the part-time supplemental income in a two-person childfree household. You, on the other hand, work two jobs.”
Not many people other than Dad and Mom acknowledged Leslie’s art as a second job. Every time Hannah said the words, they meant as much as they ever had. Despite the momentary sensory overwhelm, Leslie hugged her friend. She stepped back quickly, but Hannah’s gray eyes shone. As a hugger, she sometimes lamented the physical distance needed between her and Leslie.
“Thanks,” Leslie said. “You’re right, I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”
She had slaked, of course. Until she’d met Ryker, she’d taken for granted that all vampires slaked with the same regularity that she did. Funny how easily Ryker had found a place in her thoughts—and in her daily life, despite the physical distance between them.
Nope. Not thinking about the distance.
Tonight was for her and Hannah.
“Question, though,” Hannah said. “Could I ask a favor while you’re here? Before we eat?”
“Of course.”
Hannah led her to the lower-level extra bedroom down the hallway and gestured to a large framed painting leaning against one wall.
“So, we bought this at the art fair.”
“Isn’t this Brooke Lewis?”
Hannah nodded. How good to know that a fellow local artist had made it into her home. The painting featured a blossoming cherry tree, petals falling all around and sun shining from one upper corner. A stone wall stretched into the background, ending at the far left of the painting and hinting at an unseen path to unseen places.
“I love it,” Leslie said. “It’s so you, Hannah.”
“I knew it was the thing I’d been waiting for to complete this room,” Hannah said. “Jake wasn’t sure the brightness and the pink petals would work in here, but once he saw it with the dark furniture he let me say ‘I told you so.’”
“It brightens the room just like you wanted.”
“Exactly.”
“And the favor is…?”
“I misplaced the hammer.”
Leslie laughed.
“That, or Jake used it and left it somewhere only he knows. And I’m super excited to get this beautiful thing up on the wall.”
“No problem, unless you also misplaced the nails.”
Hannah scampered out of the room, rummaged loudly in the kitchen junk drawer, and came back with a thin sturdy nail. “Centered over the desk, please.”
Leslie hefted the painting in her hands, gauging the exact weight. Then she hopped from the floor onto the heavy mahogany desk, which was L-shaped and jutted out into the room. She positioned the painting against the wall. “Here?”
“Perfect.”
With her fingernail, she marked an X into the dove-gray paint. Then she positioned the nail, tap-tap-tapped to make a small indentation, and pushed it into the drywall at the precise needed angle for the painting’s hanging wire.
“Have I mentioned how cool it is that you don’t need a hammer?” Hannah said.
“You have,” Leslie said.
“Well, it’s still cool.”
Leslie settled the picture in place and hopped down. “There you go.”
“It’s beautiful. Thanks, Leslie.”
Together they went back to the kitchen. Hannah cooked two burger patties while Leslie sat on the kitchen island, not allowed to help.
“We’ve got to catch up on the last month,” Hannah said. “No, wait, it’s been longer than that.”
“Almost two,” Leslie said.
“I hate how time flies, and I’m not even thirty yet. What’s going to happen to me when I’m actually old?”
Leslie never quite knew how to answer queries like this from her human bestie, but she took human aging more seriously than Hannah did. Yeah, it was easy to joke about now, because Hannah was only twenty-nine. But what would their friendship be like in another thirty years?
“I was kidding,” Hannah said. “Well, not about time flying. But don’t get all philosophical about human life and death, okay?”
“Okay. How’s Jake?”
Hannah grimaced. “Working double shifts at the hospital. He gets home and crashes.”
“Oh, that sounds rough.” She could only imagine needing to spend a third of her life sleeping, but she hated hearing one of her human friends was exhausted.
“I’m not going to lie, he’s got me a little worried. But he says the schedule’s about to get better. In the meantime, I’m taking extra hours at the coffee shop, but…” Hannah shrugged. “I’ve been feeling sort of restless about it. I see you making your art, putting beauty out into the world. And I see Jake going to work every shift to save lives, literally; and I’ve got coworkers taking loans out to go back to school, hopefully to do what they really want to do someday. And I’m just serving coffee.”
“Any job can matter, if you’re kind about it,” Leslie said. She’d seen her best friend brighten the eyes of countless customers with her warm and genuine welcome.
“I know. But…you know that new nonprofit that opened across from the diner?”
Thanks to vampire hearing, Leslie knew more about it than most in town. She wasn’t an intentional eavesdropper; in fact she was the opposite, tuning out most public conversation out of courtesy. But occasionally strangers spoke at normal volume within twenty feet of her, and last week at the grocery store, April Fuller—elementary school teacher and alpha wolf’s mate—had done exactly that while on the phone with Vivian Jones, founder of the new non-profit.
“The concept’s still new,” Leslie said, “but Vivian wants to offer quality clothes at thrift prices. She’s going to upcycle where she can too, and depending on how much business she gets, she might go online and spread the word to nearby towns. But that’s only if she ends up with more product than people. Harmony Ridge is her focus.”
Hannah’s mouth fell open. “Eagle Ears strikes again.”
Leslie chuckled.
“Anyway, they still have a Help Wanted sign in the window.”
Oh, of course. Leslie’s hands came together in a single clap as the possibilities danced like happy icicles across her shoulders. “Hannah, you’d be amazing. You could upcycle the whole store all by yourself.”
“Maybe not quite. My sewing machine runs only so fast.”
“Do it. Apply now, before Vivian Jones hires someone inferior to you.”
Hannah laughed, and Leslie did too, loving the inspiration in her friend’s brown eyes. Serving coffee and kindness was nothing to minimize, but if Hannah wanted to try something new, something tailored to her talent with fabrics and patterns, then she should go for it as hard as she could.
Wow. Leslie almost sounded like Ryker.
“Okay,” Hannah said, “I’ll do it. And now you’re going to give me a full boyfriend update. I can’t believe the last time we talked, you’d known him for a few days. You could be married by now for all I know.”
“You know me better than that. But…well…”
Hannah pointed the spatula at her. “You’re into him.”
“Yeah.”
“How seriously? And is he on the same page, do you know?”
“Oh, Ryker probably would be married by now if I suggested it.”
Hannah squealed and gave a single hop in place. “Yessss!”
Her enthusiasm remained at record levels as she and Leslie added toppings to their burgers and sat side-by-side on barstools.
“All the feelings are there,” Leslie said. “For both of us, I think. I know I’ve never felt so drawn to someone before. Ryker is… It’s not only that he’s great. He’s great for me . Does that make sense?”
Hannah nodded vigorously. “If I had to sum up me and Jake in a sentence, that’s it. We’re great. Not only in general but for each other. He’s my best choice, and I’m his.”
“That stupid college test was right,” Leslie said. “Ryker is my best choice.”
“Okay, but…” Hannah tilted her head to study Leslie. So far neither of them had tasted their burger yet. “Why do you sound different all of a sudden?”
She hadn’t meant to. She hid behind a bite of her burger, which became an actual distraction as the delightful sear and juices hit her tongue, complimented by the crunch of lettuce, the acid of the tomato, the sweetness of the mayonnaise. She groaned.
“I’m glad you like it,” Hannah said with a grin.
For a minute they ate in silence. Hannah let Leslie compose her thoughts, but she didn’t want to put this one nagging thought into words. If she never said it—not to Hannah, not to Mom, not to Ryker, not even to herself—then she could ignore it forever. She could continue life without hitting the obstacle.
“Come on, Leslie,” Hannah said at last.
“He’s so far away,” Leslie blurted.
Slowly her friend nodded. “Yeah, that’s true.”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen. If one day he’ll call me and say… This long-distance thing is too annoying.”
“Hmm.”
Now it was Leslie’s turn to wait while Hannah organized her response. Both of them tended to process before they spoke. For years their friendship had been composed of honesty, mutual regard, deep talk, and deep silences. While she waited she tried not to replay Ryker’s words to her parents. “Doing what we have to for now.”
“Okay,” Hannah said at last, when they had finished their dinner and Leslie had taken their plates to the dishwasher. “First things first. Go take a peek in the fridge.”
Leslie shot her a look. “You already fed me plenty.”
“Uh-huh. Go look.”
Leslie opened the refrigerator door, and a human-sounding gasp filled her throat. Her very favorite chocolate cake, the local grocery market’s signature, occupied the middle shelf.
“Hannah! Cake!”
Hannah laughed. “Let’s have some while we untangle your problem.”
Did that mean Hannah thought it could be untangled? Maybe Leslie could hope in this. She got out plates and forks, cut two slices, and soon sat beside her friend again. She savored the fudgy cake and cream cheese frosting for several bites, and Hannah did the same.
“Okay,” Hannah said with the same tone of decision. “I think the only answer for this is…well, one you might not like at first.”
“Tell me anyway. It’s better than subconsciously spiraling about it.”
“For a minute, let’s forget what Ryker thinks of long-distance relationships. What do you think of them? Does it bother you, seeing him only on weekends?”
“For how long? Months? Years? I don’t want to do this for years.”
Hannah nodded. “Then all that’s left to decide is which one of you has to move.”
For the first time in her life, Leslie knew what humans meant when they said they’d lost their balance. The room seemed to tilt, though it quickly righted itself. She was staring at Hannah, open-mouthed like a cartoon.
“What?” Hannah shrugged. “Plenty of people live in more than one place during their lives, Leslie. Different towns, different states, different countries even. And wait until you visit Ryker next weekend. You might fall in love with his home.”
She hoped she would fall in love with it. But… She shook her head. “I love Harmony Ridge.”
“It’s a normal life experience to love more than one place. To hold past homes in your heart.”
No. She wanted to scream it. Her heart gave a hard, painful beat. When she opened her mouth, she didn’t shout all the denials she felt. Instead her voice was quiet. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
Hannah reached out and set one warm hand on her shoulder, then withdrew it. “You might surprise yourself. I know a lot of people who moved someplace new and found an awesome adventure waiting for them.”
Her nod felt wooden. Her chest felt numb. Slowly she nodded.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Leslie said. “I… For some reason I hadn’t even considered one of us moving, but now it’s obvious.” She couldn’t talk about it anymore, not tonight anyway. She tried to smile and hoped she didn’t grimace instead. “I know I’m being weird right now. It feels really big. I have to think about it.”
“Sure. And we don’t have to keep talking about it. Just let me know if you want to process out loud or troubleshoot or whatever.”
“I will. Thanks.”
They enjoyed second slices of cake, a few episodes of their favorite reality show, and lots of good conversation that never returned to the subject of moving. By the time Leslie drove home, her earlier shock seemed like an overreaction. Until she walked in her door, saw her fridge, and remembered its contents—including an ornate box of chocolate-dipped strawberries Ryker had surprised her with this week. When they arrived on her doorstep, she had flooded his phone with chocolate and strawberry emojis before typing coherent words.
Oh my gosh thank you, but what’s the occasion?
Ryker: You are the occasion.
And you are the best boyfriend. I already tasted one btw. The white chocolate is something special.
Ryker: It looked like the shop is about half an hour from you? Have you been there before?
YES. Divinely Sweet. Never tried these though. Ahhhh thank you.
Ryker: It was an impulse gift, honestly. I miss you today.
How’s your new and extremely complicated case coming along?
Ryker: Occupying all my brain space.
Chocolate-dipped strawberries being the exception?
Ryker: YOU being the exception.
She was falling in love at a terrifying speed. And he lived in another state.
She could move, couldn’t she? For Ryker she could do anything. Couldn’t she?
Leslie wandered to her art room and stood before her recently finished beach scene. Among the few carefully placed people were a tiny couple climbing the dune hand in hand. They didn’t look like her and Ryker. She never inserted her own physical image into her works. But they represented a couple who climbed dunes and maybe foothills together, and Leslie’s private head-canon for the little figures was that they had connected years after a matchmaking test claimed they were perfect for one another.
She wandered the room until she stood in front of her waterfall and the mountain from which it sprang. She ran her thumb over the peaks. She closed her eyes and knew where she needed to be.
In minutes, she was there, having run from her neighborhood to the outskirts of town at full speed. She avoided Lunar Lane, headed straight up into the foothills. She traveled in broad leaps and bounds, up and up and up until she reached a flat ledge that looked back down on her town. Her home. Shadowed with only a few streetlights. Residential neighborhoods lit dimly from the other side of windows.
“I love you,” she whispered to her hometown.
Out here under the night sky, everything was clear in a moment. She knew herself. She knew Ryker. And she had to talk to him. Now. Right now. She had to tell him why their relationship had to end.