Chapter Twenty-Three #2
Noah arrived half an hour later, armed with two tote bags of groceries and we got to work on dinner.
I’d offhandedly mentioned wanting to start cooking again, and he jumped at the chance to help, despite his bloated schedule—rather than our regular take-out nights, he’d suggested we make something from scratch.
More often than not, it wasn’t a disaster. Phoebe even joined in on occasion.
Tonight, we tried our hand at personal pizzas. And not to toot my own horn or anything, but Antonio had nothing on my cheese-to-sauce ratio.
“Oh, hey,” Noah said once we were seated around the living room with plates balanced on our laps. A dining table was next on the list. “You guys are officially invited to our engagement party.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Is it official if it’s a verbal invitation?”
“Sure.”
“You guys are having an engagement party?” Phoebe asked.
Arden nodded into a bite of pepperoni. “My mom’s idea. She’s planning the whole thing.”
“How many prewedding parties are there? Do we have to get you a gift?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Seems cash-grabby to me.”
“You don’t have to get us anything!”
Noah placed a hand on her thigh. “It’s a small get-together to celebrate our engagement,” he said. “Nothing fancy.”
“Except it’s at Stanus Tea Room,” Arden added, widening her eyes meaningfully. It was easily the most upscale restaurant this side of Massachusetts.
“Ah, St. Anus,” Phoebe said. “My fave.”
“Don’t call it that.”
“Well, maybe they should’ve considered what it looked like before naming it that.”
“Oh my god,” Noah said, a laugh creeping into his tone. “It literally is St. Anus.”
“Noah!” Arden threw up her hands. “Great. Now our engagement party will forever be at St. Anus. We didn’t even pick it.”
“Obviously,” I said, going for another bite of pizza. “You guys would pick someplace cool. A beer garden or something. Not the number one destination for straight white couples whose parents bought them vacation homes on the Cape.”
Noah feigned a gag. “Beer garden sounds fun. Wish we’d thought of that.”
“You should have a separate engagement party,” Phoebe suggested. “One for friends, one for family.”
“Not a bad idea. Although it wouldn’t help with the cash-grabbiness,” Noah said, shooting her a wry smile. “We’ll suck it up because it means a lot to our mothers. If they start dictating where we have the wedding, that’s where I’ll draw the line.”
“You should draw the line at them doing one annoying thing,” Phoebe said without a note of irony. “It’s your wedding. You shouldn’t have to suck anything.” She paused. “Well. Unless you want to.”
A piece of pepperoni flew at her face and she shrieked, batting it away. Arden pointed at her. “Do not. You are a baby. You don’t know what any of those words mean.”
“I’m gonna be fifteen in two weeks.” Her words sounded glum.
I knew Phoebe dreaded her first birthday without Dad, but instead of plotting to overcompensate with gifts I couldn’t afford, I took a breath and let her feel sad.
It was sad. I wouldn’t let her stew in sadness all day, but we would carve out a part to remember.
“That’s right,” Noah said. His eyes flashed to me and I tried to convey the Be Cool message with my eyes. “Asking for anything good?”
“I want an Xbox, but we can’t really afford it.”
“I was thinking about upgrading. You could have my old one.”
Phoebe perked up. “Yeah?”
“Sure.”
“I wonder if Dex will be back by then,” she said, casting me a quick glance. “He said definitely before school starts.”
A tiny thrill zipped up my chest. “When did he say that?”
“A few days ago.” She plucked a piece of basil off her pizza, inspecting it thoroughly. “We text. He has good music recommendations.”
My throat tightened. “Yeah, he does,” I said.
“He could come over, right? For my birthday?” She looked so hopeful, it split open my chest.
“Of course he can.” I shook my head, gathering my thoughts. “I miss him too.”
Phoebe’s eyes lit up, but she trained her face into an impressively neutral expression. Dex would be proud. “So, you guys are good?”
“We definitely need to talk, but it won’t be the sort of conversation that would make me ban him from your birthday.”
She bit her lip to tone down the beaming. “Do you think he’ll come?”
Arden leaned in, obviously interested in the answer to this. Oblivious, Noah stuffed the rest of his pizza in his mouth.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I’m not sure how he feels about this apartment. It’s probably similar to what we felt at our house. I don’t want to push him into doing something that might hurt. Because he would come if you asked him to. You know he would.”
Phoebe nodded, offering a small smile. “Yeah. I guess we’ll see.”
Arden and Noah stayed a while longer, chatting while I did dishes. Once they left and Phoebe retreated to her room to FaceTime with her new friends, I grabbed my phone off the counter and pulled up my text history with Dex, chewing my lip until blood bloomed on my tongue.
I hear you’re coming home soon, I wrote, sending before I could think myself into a coma. Three dots appeared at once.
She is so bad at keeping secrets, he replied.
Followed by: But plans might’ve changed.
I sank against the couch, crestfallen. I hadn’t noticed the balloon of excitement inflating in my chest until he whipped out a pin.
Too bad, I sent. And then, because the hurt was raw and I was alone and, damn it, it was true: I miss you.
I miss you too, he replied. Finding you in all the good things isn’t enough.
Warmth overflowed from my chest, spilling everywhere. If it wasn’t for my steady consciousness or lack of pain, I would’ve thought my heart exploded.
We stayed up until four texting like teenagers. I updated him on the paint situation and my concerns regarding Phoebe’s birthday. Dex told me about Gavin’s pointless crush on Cat, and about his fear that he’d fail to keep in touch with everyone once he was on his own again.
I didn’t require a long-form interview from him. Just this.
I needed this, he told me once I admitted I could barely hold my eyes open.
It was too late to feel shame or anxiety, so I wrote: I need you.
You have me, he wrote back.
I fell asleep smiling.