Chapter 16 #2
They’re awkward, breathy sobs that once I start I can’t stop, and when I finally do it’s another while before I sit up, my nose snotty and my head pounding and my eyes puffy and red.
Jess says nothing, passing me a tissue and plucking a makeup wipe from the packet. “At least we know your mascara is waterproof,” she mutters, blinking away her own tears as she rubs my face clean.
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be. Making me chase you like this. I had to make Amber my bad-date excuse. The first time I texted her like, “Oh, is there an emergency?” she was like, “What are you talking about?” That girl is dumb.”
My laughs sounds like a hiccup. “I just feel like I’m the only one still struggling.”
“That’s my fault.” She sighs. “I was trying to make you jealous so you’d come back. Yes, some people are doing okay but the last I heard Peter’s gone to work on an alpaca farm in Peru and Jasmine freaked out one day and tried to open a bakery in Newark.”
“I didn’t know she baked.”
“She doesn’t. She said she just likes the smell. She’s also growing bangs. It’s a journey I’m trying to support as a friend but it’s not one I would choose for her.” She tosses the wipe to the side and starts rummaging through my makeup bag. “Tyler got in touch last week.”
“He did?”
“He wanted to know if you’d mentioned his offer to me. That’s about as far as he got because he sounded annoyed, so then I got annoyed because he sounded annoyed, and then I hung up. Should I not have hung up?”
I frown as she covers my face in a lemony smelling SPF. “What do you mean?”
“As in, are you two talking?”
“ No. ”
“Okay.”
“We’re not!”
“ Okay, ” she says, and I flinch as she tweezes a stray hair from my eyebrow.
“He wanted me to stay in his apartment,” I explain. “While he’s out of town.”
“And you said no.”
“Of course I said no.”
“It’s a really nice apartment.”
“Jessica!”
“It’s just that if it were me, I’d be taking what I could get.”
“He dumped me,” I remind her. “Four months after he proposed he broke up with me like I was a bad business deal. I don’t care if he feels guilty. I don’t need his pity.”
“What about his water pressure? Okay, okay!” She rubs her forehead where I flicked her.
“Are you done?”
“Nowhere close,” she says flatly. “You’re an ugly crier.” She sits back, stretching her arms above her head. “What’s there to do around here? I need some nonrecycled air.”
I shrug, pressing my fingers to my still puffy eyes. “It’s a Sunday.”
“So?”
“So nothing’s open.”
“Something has to be open.”
There’s only one place I can think of.
I feel Jess’s enthusiasm diminish the farther we walk from the house.
It’s a gray, chilly day and the main street is almost deserted except for an old man smoking on the corner.
Even the art gallery is closed and I know Jess is taking it all in, storing it away to use against me later, so I’m relieved when I see Beth’s door propped open and the woman herself watering the hanging baskets outside, dressed in a bright pink dress despite the weather.
“Beth!”
Her eyes go wide when she sees me, and for a panicked moment I wonder if Luke told her about what happened between us, but then I realize her gaze isn’t fixed on me.
“This is Jess,” I say as we approach. “A friend from New York.”
“Hello,” Beth chirps. One hand goes to her hair, which she tucks behind her ear while the watering can goes slack in the other, dribbling onto the sidewalk.
“Jess, this is my friend Beth and this is her café.”
“Shut up,” Jess says. “You own this?”
Beth nods, her eyes flicking to Jess’s boots in a way that makes me think they’re another one of her happy places.
“It’s so cute!” Jess exclaims, and she sounds so unintentionally condescending that I wince. Beth hears it too, her smile dropping, but Jess doesn’t notice, already strolling inside.
We follow.
“You’ve got books! And the décor! Shabby chic, I love it.”
Beth looks at her doubtfully as if not sure if she’s making fun of her or not.
“Are these cookies vegan?” Jess asks, peering into the counter display.
“Um… no. The strawberry slice is.”
Jess makes a face. “I don’t like strawberries.”
And that’s enough. “Beth, can you give us one second?”
“Sure,” she mumbles as I drag Jess back outside.
“Stop it,” I say.
“Stop what?”
“Being you,” I hiss. I risk a glance inside to see Beth rearranging the cookie display.
“What are you talking about? I’m being nice.”
“No, you’re being intimidating. You might not realize it but you are. Beth’s been really kind to me and her café is not doing well, so could you please try and—”
“Oh my God.”
Jess’s eyes latch onto something behind me and I turn to see Luke emerge from the staircase, talking to Beth.
“Who is th — Hey! Stop doing that,” Jess protests as I pull her farther from the café.
I ignore her, explaining in a frantic whisper about Luke and Beth and me and slowly her stubborn expression turns thoughtful.
“You know,” she says. “You pretend you’re super boring but you’ve always got some little drama happening, don’t you? It’s like the time you told me you had a migraine all weekend but really you’d gone to Aspen with that Hollister model from reception.”
“Please don’t make this a thing.”
“Obviously,” she says, looking insulted. “But if he’s your first hookup after Tyler, I’m going to need a full rundown of what the sex is like. A blow by blow, if you will.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“So many big words,” she pouts, pinching my cheek. “I can barely keep up with it all. I’ll be good. Stop being weird.”
We head back in and I’m relieved to see Luke has already disappeared upstairs, the floorboards creaking overhead.
“He was just getting a coffee,” Beth says. “He’s studying but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you—”
“Oh no,” I say quickly. “I’m just here for Jess.”
“She really wanted to show me this place,” Jess says brightly. “Skinny latte,” she adds to a confused Ollie, who emerges from the back. “Oat milk if you have it. It’s super nice. How long have you guys been open?”
“A couple of… months.” Beth trails off, wide-eyed as Jess subtly slides a twenty euro note into the tip jar.
As if being operated by a machine, Ollie immediately starts moving faster.
“And what are these?” Jess asks. “Lemon tarts? Do you bake them yourself?”
“No, there’s a woman in—”
“We should bring some back to your sister,” Jess says, tossing her hair as she glances over at me. “As a thank you.”
“Sounds good,” I say with a “tone it down” look.
“We’ll take eight.”
Beth stares at her. “Eight?”
“Eight.”
Beth’s grinning from ear to ear as we leave, laden with the tarts, two coffees each, and an éclair for the road.
“I’ll tag you on Instagram,” Jess calls. “You’re welcome,” she adds under her breath as the door falls shut behind us. “Why doesn’t she have more customers? She’s a doll.”
“I don’t know. Maybe because there’s hardly anyone here to begin with. There’s a reason everyone else only opens seasonally.”
“Their loss.” Jess groans around her first bite of éclair. “Oh my God, I missed calories.”
We stop by the river on the way back to drink our coffees, and though a rain cloud hovers threateningly overhead, it remains dry as we sit, our activity for the day finished.
“So that’s it?” Jess asks as she runs a finger around the pink cardboard box, finding the last of the cream.
I stare out at the empty field on the other side of the water. “That’s it.”
She leans back against the bench, draping one leg over the other. A lingering breeze whips the hood back from my head, ruffling through my hair, but Jess’s doesn’t move, weighed down with product and good genes.
“I know I cried,” I say haltingly. “But I’ve also got everything under control.”
“Your life’s a mess, babe.”
“To the untrained eye,” I begin, and she sighs.
“Look, if you had an epiphany and realized you hated your life and everything in it and decided to move home to renovate a cottage and start an organic-honey business I would support you . You know I would. I would place you on a pedestal and point at you and say that’s my friend and this is her choice.
But this?” She gestures at the river, at me.
“As pretty as it all is, it isn’t a choice.
This was something you were forced to do because of a series of shitty circumstances.
And what I don’t want to happen is for you to settle and think this is all you are worth and be miserable. ”
“I’m not miserable.”
“You look miserable,” she says flatly. “Your skin looks bad and your hair looks frizzy and you’ve got a hardened ‘where did my life go?’ look in your eye. You’ve given up.”
“No.”
“Yes. You’ve given up even if you haven’t realized it yet.
You’re not stuck here, Abby. It’s bad now but it will get better.
So you need to stop thinking that this is your life now and remember that this is all just a break.
You are here to see your sister and her very cute husband.
You are here to catch up with old friends, to get back to your roots and connect with your homeland.
Treat it like a vacation. A cold, windy vacation that you’ll never have to do again.
You’re one of the smartest people I know and you didn’t climb all the way to the top floor only to settle for the basement. ”
“I didn’t make it to the top floor.”
“The analogy works,” she says. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I mumble.
She settles back, calmer now she’s said her piece. “So is Beth single or what’s her deal? It’s just a question!” she adds at my look. “She was checking me out.”
“She was not. Don’t go near her. She’s my friend.”
“You make it sound like I’m some heartless womanizer.”
“You are a womanizer.”
“But also a woman, so it’s fine . And I’m only that way because I haven’t found the right woman. Maybe it will help if I—”
“It will not help. Do not engage.”
“Whatever.” She sighs, long and loud, and makes a show of looking around. “So now what do we do? Day-drink?”
I wish. “The pubs aren’t open yet.”
“So then what? Come on, give me the tour. I’m just going to keep talking otherwise. I’m just going to sit and give you advice and yell at you and—”
“Alright,” I groan, standing up. “I’ll show you the heron.”
“Oh, goody.”