4. June
JUNE
“Here’s to the future!” Beth raises her glass and clinks it against mine. I laugh when a little wine spills over onto the table. I mop it up with a napkin before taking a big drink.
“The future,” I repeat, grinning madly.
Beth’s cheeks are flushed and happy. She looks good these days: hair dyed darker, cut to suit her better. More confident, brighter, outgoing. It amazes me, what she’s become since college.
“You ever thought we’d make it this far?” she asks, stabbing at her big slab of steak. She waves her fork at me. “Remember what you said when I first said we should give event planning a try?”
“I was very supportive,” I say primly.
“You told me that you’re too busy being a mom and there’s no way we’d ever make it work. Remember?”
“Sorry, I have temporary amnesia.”
“Convenient.” She takes a bite and groans. “God, that’s so good.”
We’re out at one of the best steakhouses in Philadelphia.
It’s the kind of place I never in a million years imagined I’d ever step foot in.
My existence has been diapers, strollers, and playdates, and it only feels like I’m finally coming up for air now that Hattie’s over five and going to preschool.
Everyone says being a single mother is hard.
But it’s even worse than anyone imagines.
There’s no time. Every waking moment is dedicated to Hattie, the love of my life, the best mistake I ever made.
I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. That night, that hotel room.
That man. I feel myself drifting toward him again, but brush the memories away.
I don’t let myself think of Hattie’s father, though it’s hard not to remember him, not whenever I look into her eyes.
But even though she’s a miracle and perfect, she’s a freaking huge pain in my ass.
That’s kids.
At least Marnie offered to babysit tonight so Beth and I could celebrate three years of business together. Every Little Thing started out doing birthdays and now we’re on top of multiple weddings every weekend. It’s hard, a ton of work, but it’s extremely rewarding.
We reminisce about the old days getting started, the way Hattie was our mascot early on since I had to bring her everywhere, and how that seemed to win clients over. A real working mom with a cute baby? Amazing, we must be incredible!
Little did they know I rarely had clean underwear since I never had time to do wash and my apartment was a total wreck.
Things are better these days. Mostly, anyway. I bought a house six months back, a row home in a decent South Philly neighborhood, nothing special, but heaven as far as I’m concerned.
And all because of Beth and her crazy idea.
“By the way, you mentioned you had a job come through.” The waiter removes our plates and Beth asks for more wine and chocolate cake for dessert.
She tilts her head side to side. “It’s a weird one, honestly. I’m not sure you’ll like it.”
“What’s the deal?”
“Well, it’s a wedding, but everyone’s anonymous. Some lawyer reached out? A real fancy lady with a weird name. She said her client is extremely private, but she gave me lots of details, and the budget—“ Beth’s face lights up. “God, June, the budget. It’ll double our yearly income.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m not kidding. I think it’s for some kind of movie star. Maybe a Saudi princess or whatever? Do they have princesses?”
“I don’t think they care about the girls over there.” I drum my fingers on the table. “Totally anonymous? Like we can’t meet with the bride and groom? That’s weird.”
“I know, and I pushed back, but the lawyer was firm. We plan the wedding, run everything through her, and don’t ask too many questions.”
“Shady.”
“But the budget. Aren’t you trying to buy a new car? And Hattie’s still in daycare.”
“Preschool.” I scrape my nails through my hair. “They call it preschool at her age. And it’s obscenely expensive.”
“I’ll forward you what I have and you can make the call, okay? Personally, if it were up to me, we’d go for it. What’s there to lose? We piss off some fancy people? That’s on them for not getting involved.”
“Alright, I’ll take a look, but no promises. We’re already stretched thin.”
She looks at me seriously, reaching out to take my hands, gripping them hard. “June, I love you. I couldn’t have done this without you. You’re the logistics and I’m the artistic flair.”
I squirm in my seat. “I like to think I have a good eye too.”
“You don’t. Seriously. Listen to me. I need you, and love you, and you have to consider the budget, okay?”
“I said I’d look at it. And I love you too.”
We finish up, leave a generous tip, and part ways outside. I opt to walk fifteen minutes home which is enough time to skim what Beth sent on my phone.
She’s right: the budget is obscene and our percentage would be enormous.
It’ll be a fair bit of work, but the end of summer isn’t too busy yet and I could fit it in.
By the time I reach my front stoop, I’ve already started spending the extra money: a bike for Hattie, school supplies, a better water heater, new shoes for everyone.
I’m distracted and almost don’t notice them. At my stoop, I pause and spot a car parked a few doors down. I wouldn’t look twice normally, but it’s a fancy black BMW, not the sort of vehicle for this neighborhood.
Two men are sitting inside.
Strange, but it’s the city. People do things.
Ignoring the creeping feeling, I push inside and find Marnie sitting in my living room, tears streaming down her face.
“Marn! What’s going on?!”
“Oh, shit.” She laughs, wiping at herself with her sleeve. She’s in sweats, her hair in a messy bun. “No, it’s fine, don’t freak out. It’s just this movie.”
“What the heck are you watching?”
“Hallmark. Don’t judge me. Hattie’s asleep, by the way, she was a gem as always.”
“Oh, honey.” I sit down next to Marnie and throw my arms around her, hugging her tight. “Thanks for coming over. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I am completely, totally, absolutely fine.” That’s not remotely true and we both know it. She hugs me back briefly but gets to her feet. “Sorry, I should get going. I have to talk to my lawyer early.”
“That’s not done with yet?”
“Dennis is being a fucking asshole. There are these stupid retirement accounts—but whatever, I don’t want to bore you. Don’t look at me like that.”
“You can stay here tonight if you want?”
“Stop it, June. I love you. Hattie’s a dream.”
“Fuck Dennis. You have a place here whenever you want it.”
Marnie kisses my cheek. “Love you. Talk tomorrow.”
“Thanks again. Beth sends her regards, by the way.”
“Bitch better.” Marnie gathers her stuff and exits. I watch my friend hurry down the block, that bad feeling still heavy in my guts. The BMW hasn’t moved, idling now, brake lights bright red.
She’s in a bad place. Terrible, actually. I lock up and go check on Hattie, thinking about how fast Marnie’s marriage fell apart. The fights, the tears, the cheating. And now this, six years later. Lawyers, assets, the works.
Divorce. Poor Marnie.
I brush Hattie’s mess of brown curls back. Her room’s rainbow and pony themed. Lots of pink, purple, and green. Dozens of stuffies are piled all around her as she drools onto a cupcake pillowcase. I kiss her forehead and she stirs.
“I love you, Harriet.”
Back in the hall, I pause outside my daughter’s door, still thinking about Marnie. Guilt hits me, but I can’t help feeling like it’s better Marnie’s going through this now, before she has kids.
No way she would survive life as a single mother. Not even as a divorced mother with custody agreements. Bless her heart and soul.
Before I go to sleep, I peer out the front windows, not sure why I do it.
The car’s gone. The two men with it.
Just me being stupid and paranoid.
I climb into bed and stare at that budget Beth sent again, dreaming of how it might change my life.