“It’s okay. It’s okay. I know my childhood sounds all rosy, but we didn’t have a lot of money. My parents just had this way of making everything seem magical, and I always got what I really, really wanted. They did without so that Tate, Lucah, and I could have Christmas and birthday gifts and new clothes. I’m a lot luckier than most.” His smile was tinged with sadness.
“Sometimes I wonder if that’s why they were taken. They were just too good. Because I can’t figure out another reason that they would need to die. I was really pissed off about it for a long time. Still am, if I’m being honest.”
I couldn’t blame him.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Ryder. There aren’t any words I can say that do enough to tell you how sorry I am.”
He reached out for my hand and held it. I could feel his warmth through the mitten.
“There’s a station right down the road here, if you want to just take the T,” I said. This hand holding was new and kind of scary. I didn’t know how to take it, so I decided to just go with it. I looked down at our linked hands. His were covered in tiny little scratches and freckles. Those wonderful freckles that covered the rest of his body.
“Thank you,” he finally said, squeezing my hand.
“For what?” I asked, looking straight ahead.
“For being you.”
“Um, you’re welcome?” It sounded like a question, but neither of us laughed at me fumbling with my words.
He held my hand on the subway and all the way back to my apartment.
Finally, we had to part. He started to walk away, as if he’d forgotten we were even holding hands.
“Um, Ryder?” I jerked his arm and he looked down at it.
“Right. Well. Have a good rest of your night, Sloane.” He shoved his hand back in his pocket.
“Yeah. You too. Get home safe.”
“I will.” He nodded and then walked backwards down the sidewalk as if he wanted to see me for as long as he could. Prolong our moment.
But he still walked away, and I went upstairs, alone, to my apartment.
I finished Rory’s dress and lingerie ensemble, and she came over to my place to try it on so Lucah wouldn’t see it.
“Sweet fucking Jesus,” she said when I pulled it out of the garment bag. My friends were really fond of cursing. No wonder I couldn’t help myself.
“Is that a good sign?” I asked.
She nodded, not taking her eyes off the dress as she pulled it all the way out of the bag and held it against herself. She twirled around and laughed.
“I know you’ve made dresses before, but you really outdid yourself.”
“Yeah, well. You’re welcome. I sewed on those rhinestones myself. I didn’t trust the interns.” I would never do that again. You’ve never known tedium until you’ve had to hand sew hundreds of rhinestones onto a dress. Trust me.
“And this,” I said, presenting another bag with a flourish of my arm, “is what goes under it.” She clapped her hands and dashed to the bathroom to put the lingerie on.
She strutted out a few minutes later and gave me a twirl. I walked around her to make sure that everything looked good, and then helped her step into the dress. I zipped up the side and stepped back.
Rory spun around, making the skirt billow out just the way I wanted it to. The bra was perfectly hidden, and the dress was exactly the right length. I couldn’t ask for more than that.
“I don’t have words,” she said, twirling around again. “I feel like a princess. But a sexy princess.”
“Princesses aren’t sexy?”
“Well, most of them, at least the Disney kind, are all virginal and wide-eyed, and are practically children. I feel like a princess who’s been on the throne for a while and knows what the hell she’s doing. I can’t wait to show my ginger prince.” She spun one more time and then sighed.
“So when are you going out?” I asked.
“Next weekend. We’re going to head out of the city and have it be just the two of us. We haven’t gone away on a trip before, so I’m really looking forward to it. If we weren’t already pre-fiancés, I’d say he was going to propose.”
I helped her out of the dress, and she went to take off the lingerie.
“Maybe he’ll propose again,” I said through the bathroom door.
“Maybe. That might be something he would do. He’s such a romantic, that one.” So was his brother. Must be genetic.
She came out in her regular clothes and gave me a hug.
“You’re the best. Have I told you that lately?”
“Not today,” I said, hugging her back. She was so short, I had to bend down quite a bit. I used to be jealous of her height. She was just so cute and sweet and didn’t have to worry about being taller than her mate. I had an aversion to being with guys who were shorter than me, which cut me off from a lot of dating possibilities. But then again, Rory was always telling me how jealous she was of my height, so there you go. The grass is always greener and shit like that.
“So, how are things going?” she asked. I knew exactly what things she was asking about.
“Things are . . . confusing.” It was the best word I could come up with.
She nodded. “Things can be that way sometimes. Anything I can do to help?”
“Nope. I have a feeling they’re going to continue to be confusing for some time.” She gave me another hug and asked me if I wanted to go to the bar on Friday. We hadn’t gone with just the four of us girls in a while. We were all so busy with our own lives. It made me scared a little. I didn’t want to lose my friends to life.
“That sounds great. Chlo and Marisol coming?” I asked.
“Yup, they’ve already confirmed. And it’s strictly a girls’ night. Or I guess a single night in Chloe’s case. Not that she’s seeing anyone.” Chloe was still totally wrecked from her breakup and hadn’t found someone she was willing to trust again. But as long as she was happy and enjoyed being single and having a fling every now and then, that was all that mattered.
“I wish I knew someone I could set her up with,” I said. Chloe was super picky and not easy to please.
“Ditto. But most of the people I work with are men and are either married or headed that way. And it’s not like I can come out and ask someone if they’re a lesbian.”
“Exactly. Talk about awkward.”
“Seriously.”
She sat down on the couch. I sensed she didn’t want to head back to her place just yet.
“Everything okay?” I asked. The high of the dress had worn off and she seemed a little melancholy.
“Yeah. Just overwhelmed with everything. I wish life was more stable. I wish I could just think about planning a wedding instead of trying to figure out how to get the company back on track and worrying about Dad. He’s still spreading himself too thin, and I keep feeling like something bad is going to happen.” Rory had a lot on her shoulders. I had no idea how she did it. I’d never had so much parental expectation hanging over my head. If my company failed, it was on me. I didn’t have to worry about disappointing my father. That would just be the worst.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“It’s going to be okay,” she said with a sigh. “If all else fails, Mom and I are going to tie him to a chair, or hide all his keys or something so he can’t go to work. He was doing good for a while, but he’s back at it. Like he lured us into a false sense of security and then snuck back when we weren’t looking.” If Rory was a workaholic, she came by it honestly. Her father was a wonderful man. Her mother was fantastic too. They’d taken me in when I was just a friend of their daughters. They’d bought me clothes, helped me with school and paid for the apartment I shared with Rory before she moved in with Lucah.
“Hey, how about you come with me to Sunday dinner? Lucah’s going to come, but I know Dad would like to see you, and Mom loves to hear how everything is going.”
“Sounds great. I’d love to.” Although, the last time I was at their place for din
ner, Ryder had been there and caused a scene when he’d talked about their dead parents at the dinner table. He’d known it would upset Lucah and he did it anyway. I’d thought it would come to blows, but they had sort of worked things out.
“I’m probably not going to invite Ryder, if you’re okay with that,” she said, not meeting my eyes.
“No, that’s fine. I’d rather not have the drama we had last time.”
“Good. So you want to just ride with us?”
“Sounds great.” I looked at the clock and saw that it was time to start dinner. Rory drifted into the kitchen to watch (I was mean about letting her help), and Lucah arrived a few minutes later with Ryder right behind him.
The minute I made eye contact with Ryder I blushed. I hoped that wasn’t going to be a thing now.
Lucah and Rory said hello, and Ryder came over.
“Hello, Sloane. How are you doing?” He acted like I was an acquaintance, and it drove me nuts.
“I’m well, how are you?” I matched his formal tone and it made him smile.
“Doing good, doing good. What are you making?” Lucah and Rory were busy talking softly to one another, so they weren’t really concerned with me and Ryder.
“Well, I thought about sushi, but decided to go for apricot chicken, rice, and a spinach salad. If you want, you can wash the spinach and tear it up for me.” He nodded, moving past me to get the spinach, and his hand brushed my back. It had to be on purpose. I gave him a look, but he just started whistling and washing the greens.
“Guess what?” Ryder said over the running water in the sink.
“What?” I said, stirring the sauce for the chicken. I’d gotten out the portable skillet so I could grill inside. One of the downsides of this apartment was that it didn’t have a balcony. I’d love to have one so I could grill outside and maybe even have a smoker for meats. Someday, maybe.
“I got a new therapist,” he said with a huge smile. “A woman this time.” I felt an instant pang of jealousy, which was ridiculous.
“Does she fart?” I asked.
“Not yet. But I’m watching her.” I wasn’t going to ask if she was pretty. I couldn’t. It was none of my business. So what if she was pretty? What was I going to do about it? He wasn’t my boyfriend, and even if he was, so what if he had an attractive therapist?
Lucah and Rory joined us and started handing out the wine glasses, so the topic changed to the worst movies we’d ever seen, which caused a light-hearted argument.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Rory said to Ryder. “You cannot say that Legally Blonde is the worst movie you’ve seen.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me in thinking that wasn’t a terrible movie.” He sipped at his glass of water. I’d started keeping seltzer on hand for him so he wouldn’t feel left out.
“That is a classic. If you can’t see that, it’s on you,” she said, pointing at him and narrowing her eyes. Rory took her movies very seriously.
“I mean, I briefly flirted with the idea of being a lawyer just because of that movie,” Rory said. I remembered that. We were in college and she was caving under the pressure of parental expectations. It only lasted less than a day, but it was one of my favorite Rory moments.
Ryder made a face. “Be that as it may, it’s still a shitty movie,” he said as I started plating the chicken and rice with the sauce. We all headed for the dining room and sat down.
“Well, I’ll personally never get the two hours of my life back that I wasted on From Justin to Kelly,” Lucah said, and Rory choked on a mouthful of chicken.
“You seriously watched that?” I asked as Rory gulped some water to clear her windpipe and Lucah smacked her on the back.
“Yeah. I can’t remember why, exactly. But I did, and I will regret it to this day. On my deathbed, I will regret watching that movie.”
Rory shook her head at him. “I think I know you and then you drop a bomb like that, Mr. Blythe. You can’t say things like that when I have a mouthful of food.”
“Sorry, sunshine,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll try to do better.”
“Whipped,” Ryder said with a cough.
“Whipped and proud,” Lucah said, putting his arm around Rory. “Whipped and proud and lucky as hell.”
Ryder pretended to gag, but then he gave me a look and I begged my face not to go red.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m never going to get the time back that I spent with Pulp Fiction,” Rory said, and both Ryder and Lucah freaked out and started ranting about how Tarantino was a genius. Personally, I couldn’t see it, so I joined Rory, and it was boys against girls.
Both redheads got super touchy about movies. Noted.
“Okay, calm down. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack,” Rory said, brushing back Lucah’s hair. Both brothers were significantly red-faced.
“I’m calm,” he said, and then started laughing. We all joined in and the argument was over. Not sure who won, but it didn’t matter.
By Friday night I was ready to go out. I definitely needed it.
“You look great!” Rory said as we met downstairs to take a cab to the bar we frequented. It was also open mic night, which was a bonus.
“Thanks. So do you.” She’d shed a little of her corporate gloss and had donned a floaty top with jeans, and a pair of high-heeled boots. Her hair was out of its typical chignon and falling over her shoulders. Complete with toned-down makeup she didn’t look like the vice president of a tech company.
I’d gone for warmth and fashion with a cute skirt, leggings, and a sweater.
We hopped in the cab and gave the guy directions. I spotted Chloe from her bright red bobbed hair and Marisol in a purple coat. We got out of the car and hugged like we hadn’t seen each other in years. It kind of felt that way. I adored my friends and missed seeing them. We all started talking at once and headed inside.
I was the designated drink-fetcher, since it was much easier for me to wade through the crowd and carry a tray with my extra height.
After I got the drinks, I headed back to the table, but not before I caught the eye of a guy that was quite attractive. Well, I would have found him attractive with his dark hair, dark eyes, and clean look. But after a moment, I was sort of meh. He was too . . . polished. I wanted something a little more rugged. A little beat up. Scarred.
A little bit more Ryder.
Giving the guy a quick smile, I went back to the table and distributed the drinks.
“Oh good, they’re starting,” Chloe said as the first performer took the stage. One of the reasons we came to these things was that it was like a live reality show. You had the good and the bad and the in-between.
“You know, it says a lot about us that we get a kick out of people getting up on a stage and humiliating themselves,” Marisol said, sipping her gin and tonic.
“Hey, they don’t have to get up. No one’s holding a gun to their head,” Chloe said. “Although, that might change the quality of the songs. Like the Hunger Games, only with singing. Hunger Games, the musical.” Her eyes lit up. “Now there’s an idea.”
We had to quiet down as the first song started. It was a young girl who didn’t even look old enough to be in a bar and definitely wasn’t old enough to drink. Her guitar was also much too big for her to hold.
“Aw, she’s so cute,” Rory said. “I bet she’s amazing.” I didn’t have much faith and prepared myself for an awful acoustic version of whatever pop shit was currently clogging up most radio stations.
Instead she opened her mouth and a beautiful voice emerged.
“Damn,” Rory said. “I was right.”
The girl started to play a mind-blowing version of “On the Street Where You Live,” from My Fair Lady. She’d turned the song around from something somewhat upbeat and hopeful to something that almost sounded like a breakup song. Her voice wrapped a bittersweet bow around it and changed the tone of the music completely. When she was done, she was treated to a rousing
round of applause.
“That girl is going places,” Chloe said, and we all agreed. The next few singers brought things way downhill: A few guys that were too drunk to even form words and a girl who was completely tone deaf.
“My ears, my ears!” I said after the girl left the stage. She’d only gotten a smattering of polite applause and looked crushed that everyone hadn’t loved her cover of a Britney Spears hit.
“That was especially painful,” Rory said. “Whatcha lookin’ at, Chlo?” She had been staring off at something.
“What?” Chloe said, not taking her eyes off whatever she was looking at. I followed her line of sight and saw it. Or rather, who. It was a girl in a cute dress who was laughing so loud you could hear it over the music and the din of the bar. She had silky blonde hair all the way down her back and gauges in her ears.
“You getting a vibe?” I asked, and she finally looked back at me.
“Maybe. I’m going to go check.” She got off the barstool and headed on over. We all watched, waiting to see what would happen. If there was anything Chloe wasn’t, it was shy. She had no qualms about hitting on someone, whether she knew they were gay or not. If anyone ever said anything about it, she’d just rant about the Kinsey scale and bisexuality and sexual freedom.
She came back a few minutes later, a little deflated.
“Boyfriend. Which I could work on, but she said her favorite musical artist was Miley Cyrus. I can’t deal with that.” She made a gagging noise, and we all agreed.
The night wore on, and I found myself laughing more than I had in a long time. It was good to get out and not have to think about work or Ryder or lying about hanging out with Ryder.