THIRTY Quincy
“I’m so mad at myself.” Mia jumps into her pool, her cannonball splashing me. “I’m a terrible person,” she continues when she pops her head out from under the water.
“I’m sorry.” I hold a portable fan up to my face, trying to cool off.
The electricity has been out for four days, and I’ve practically been living in Mia’s pool so I don’t have to sit inside without air-conditioning.
“You’re going to have to be more specific, sweetie, because last I checked, you made sandwiches and delivered them to everyone in your neighborhood in a literal picnic basket because the town still doesn’t have power.
You have a heart of gold, and I could never consider you a terrible person. ”
“I was about to complain about that lawn cleanup we did earlier. I sweat so much, I feel absolutely disgusting, but then I remembered people died in this storm. Hundreds of families lost their homes. They’re displaced without anywhere to go, and I’m over here complaining about sweat? I need to get a grip.”
“Two things can be true. You can complain about your own problems while also recognizing other people have it worse than you. That doesn’t make you a horrible person.”
“Who’s a horrible person?” Harlow closes the glass door leading out of Mia’s home and walks toward us with a plate of watermelon. “Is it that woman who tried to steal ice from me at the gas station yesterday? She was mean.”
“Mia thinks she’s a bad person because she’s complaining about being uncomfortable.” I swim over to Harlow and wade into the shallow end, reaching for the fruit. “I told her that’s not how the hierarchy of shitty people works.”
“Of course it’s not how it works.” Harlow sits on the pool deck and dangles her feet in the water.
“Someone a couple blocks over from me had their power restored this morning. Am I resentful they are sitting in a cool house and able to wash their hair? Absolutely, but I’m also hopeful mine will be back in the next couple of days. ”
“Next year, I’m buying the biggest generator out there. I’m not sticking with the small one that only powers my fridge.” Mia floats on her back and sighs. “Sebastian told me what brand to get. I just stalled for too long, and now I’m shit out of luck.”
I almost choke at the mention of Sebastian’s name. I hit my chest and swallow down the bite before reaching for my water. “Even I don’t have the biggest generator. They’re expensive to run.”
“Money comes and goes, but think of the air-conditioning, Quincy. And being able to sleep through the night because you’re not having a hot flash.” Mia fixes her sunglasses on her face. “What are we doing this afternoon?”
“I know we’ve spent the last couple of days knocking out manual labor, but I had an idea,” I say.
“We need to get rid of the parts of your fence that didn’t survive the storm so your yard is ready when the new fencing gets here.
I also want to do another lap around the neighborhood.
There are some elderly folks who asked for some help with cleaning out their freezers. ”
“We should paint the old fence,” Harlow suggests. “You could keep a few pieces of it so you can remember Georgianna. I know you didn’t lose your house, but it would be a nice reminder of how lucky we are.”
“Wow.” I take another piece of watermelon. “Look at you being optimistic. Did you turn over a new leaf, Ms. Chronically Pessimistic?”
“No. I’m still bleak as hell. Just feels important.”
Harlow, Mia, and I had dinner with the boys yesterday.
We ate more peanut butter sandwiches in Cooper’s living room and split a sleeve of Oreos for dessert.
After the sun set, Cooper brought in a lantern.
We piled blankets and pillows on the floor, the six of us telling ghost stories late into the night.
Sebastian and I were the last two to stay awake, and I fell asleep with his hand touching mine.
“I love that idea.” Mia turns onto her stomach, swimming over to the stairs. She climbs out of the water and dries off her hair. “A part might be broken, but it can be rebuilt. I still have acrylic paint from my short-lived artist era that we can use.”
“You painted ‘Starry Night’ a dozen times, then never picked up a brush again.” I laugh and join my friends on the pool deck. “That has to be some sort of record.”
We wrap ourselves in fluffy towels and head for Mia’s garage. It takes twenty minutes for her to find paint, and when she does, we spread out on the grass in the front yard.
“When does Richard get home?” Harlow asks, holding up a chipped piece of wood. “I heard that the airport finally opened this morning.”
“He’ll be back on Friday. He’s been stuck in Fargo, North Dakota, but he said the town is nice, the people are friendly, and cheese curds are delicious.
I’ve missed him so much.” Mia squeezes out a drop of pink paint on her sliver of fence.
“Going through Georgianna made me want to get married tomorrow. I don’t need the fancy wedding or a harpist to serenade guests during the cocktail hour. I just want him.”
“When did you know you loved him?” I glance at my best friend. “Was there a moment when you realized he was the one? Do you think we only get one shot at being happy, and if we miss it, are we destined to be alone forever?”
“That’s hard to say. I think you can have multiple great loves throughout your lifetime.
I’ve met people at book signings who were divorced at twenty-five, but ten years later, they’re on their second marriage and happier than they’ve ever been.
As for the moment I realized Richard was the one, it’s silly.
” She blushes. “I have a career telling these love stories, and I never imagined I would be living one myself. We were eating breakfast one morning, and I looked at him across the kitchen table, and I felt it. There was a moment when my soul tethered to his, and I knew I wanted to share a bowl of cereal with him every day for the rest of my life.”
“It doesn’t have to be after a grand gesture?” I ask. “Some big declaration?”
“No. I mean, it can be, but I think realizing your feelings in the soft, mundane moments is even more special. Richard said it first. I had dried toothpaste on my cheek and my shirt was on inside out. He looked at me and said, gosh I love you. And that was it.” Mia eyes me.
“Why so many questions?” She gasps. “Wait a second. Are you seeing someone?”
“I don’t know if I would consider it seeing someone. It’s more … casual. Like, sleeping together? But there might be feelings involved? On my end, at least. Maybe not on his.” I dip my chin, diverting my attention to the paintbrush I’m holding. “It’s not a big deal.”
“You’re having sex and you didn’t think to mention it to us?” Harlow swats at my arm. “How dare you, Quincy Phillips Monroe.”
“Okay, ow. We don’t need to resort to violence. I haven’t mentioned it because speaking it into existence feels like I’m getting ahead of myself, and I’m not sure it can even go anywhere logistically.”
“Why not? Please don’t tell me he’s married,” Mia says.
“I would never. It’s more of a distance thing.”
“Does he live in Orlando? I get it. I was hooking up with a guy who lived fifteen miles away, but with traffic, it was almost an hour each way to his house.” Harlow shakes her head. “A shame. He was fantastic in bed.”
“It’s not the same state, actually.” I set down the piece of fence I’m working on and look at my best friends. I’ve liked keeping what Sebastian and I have secret, but these girls know everything about me. It doesn’t feel right to hide it from them. “I need you all to promise not to freak out.”
“I don’t know where this is going, but, yes, yes, we promise.” Mia claps. “Who is it? Oh. Is it that cute guy we saw at that dive bar? Or the blond guy who always hangs out in Harlow’s bar?”
“None of the above. It’s, um, Sebastian?” His name comes out like a squeak, and Mia’s jaw drops open. “I’m, ah, sleeping with your brother.”
“Oh my god. Are you kidding? How long has this been going on? And how did it happen? I write books about these things, and I didn’t notice it happening right under my nose?” Mia pauses. “Okay. No. I don’t need details about my brother’s sex life, but are you two a couple?”
“No. No. Definitely not a couple. It started as something physical, but lately …” I trail off, trying to hide my blush. “I don’t know. I like him. I like him in a way I never thought I could like him, but he’s not that arrogant, irritating guy anymore. Maybe he was never that guy.”
“I knew it. I could tell something was different when I watched your most recent shows.” Harlow smirks. “You used to make this face whenever he talked, but now all you do is smile.”
“I do?” I touch my cheek, wondering if it’s become something so common for me these days, I don’t even know I’m doing it. “It’s nice to smile.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Mia squeals. “If this works out between you two, we could be sisters.”
“We haven’t even gone on a date. Walking down the aisle is a bit premature.” I set down my paintbrush and pluck a blade of grass. “I said it was supposed to be casual, and I went and caught feelings for him instead. That’s not good, is it? It’s probably going to ruin everything.”
“Oh, Quin.” Mia takes my hand in hers. “You haven’t noticed, have you?”
“Noticed what?”
“All Sebastian does is look at you. He’s been doing it for years thinking I wouldn’t notice, but it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You should tell him how you feel.”
“Maybe I will.” I look at the girls. “What if I mess up the friend group?”
“Please. The six of us are so busy, we rarely all get together.” Harlow hums. “Besides. I think you deserve to be a little selfish, Quin. Forget about the rest of us. You have to put yourself first, and the only thing that matters is if you’re happy.”
“Yeah.” My smile is pure joy. I’m so happy, I feel like I could fucking burst. “I am.”