by Julia Wolf
“You are coming to my house tonight if I have to drag you there,” threatened Rachel. She had her hands on her hips and looked quite serious.
“No wine bar?” I asked.
She shook her head. “This has gone beyond the wine bar. You, me, and Eliza are going to sit in my living room and both of you are going to tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Okay, I promise. You won’t have to drag me there.” I held up the bowl of color I’d been mixing in the supply room before Rachel confronted me. “Can I get back to work now?”
She narrowed her eyes but relented. “You can go, but I’ll be watching you, Frannie.” She tried to make it sound like she was joking, but I caught her eyes on me more than once throughout the day.
My week of wallowing was up. I gave myself permission to skip Barre with Rachel the day before because I wasn’t ready to face Ryan or the possibility that James would be there too. Apparently, that had been one step too far for Rachel after a week of dodging her questions. But today I stuck to the promise I’d made myself and ditched the one pair of flats I owned for my favorite pair of snakeskin heels and a cute dress. Sadly, my feet had gotten used to flats and they were sore, but I’d power through.
Rachel and Eliza finished their last clients before me and waited at the front desk. I laughed when I saw Rachel standing there with her arms crossed, as though she was prepared to block the door if I tried to bolt.
I pointed to my feet. “I can’t run in these heels!”
Rachel looked down at my shoes. “Oh, thank god, you ditched the Chucks! It’s not as serious as I thought.”
After Eliza locked up the salon, the three of us walked quietly to Rachel’s house. Joe greeted us at the door and kissed Rachel soundly.
“Hey, sweet girl,” he said.
She grinned. “Hey, buster. How was your day?”
He yanked at his hair. “Busy. I have stacks of quizzes to grade tonight.” He smiled at Eliza and me. “Ladies. I’m going to retreat to my office upstairs for a while. There’s some pasta in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”
“Thanks, Joe!” Eliza said.
He saluted us and wandered off upstairs.
We went into the kitchen, and I laughed at Joe’s definition of “some pasta.” There was an entire pan of the cheesiest lasagna, a loaf of garlic bread, and a Caesar salad. Rachel was one lucky lady.
“If I didn’t have Laurel at home cooking me well-rounded dinners most nights, I’d be incredibly jealous.”
Rachel giggled. “I landed a keeper, didn’t I?”
“You did,” Eliza said.
After we dished out piles of deliciousness onto our plates, we sat in the breakfast nook rather than the dining room. None of us said anything, but the last time we’d all been at Rachel’s house hadn’t ended very pleasantly.
“I was surprised you weren’t at Barre yesterday, Frananas,” Rachel said.
I sighed. “I know. I just wasn’t up for it.”
“Did something happen between you and James?” she asked.
I shoveled a big bite of lasagna into my mouth and nodded.
“He was there, at the dance studio.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Was he?” I was genuinely surprised. I knew there was a chance he’d be there, but mostly I thought he’d be trying to avoid me.
She nodded. “I just saw him for a minute. I said hi, but he just kind of tipped his head at me. He looked around, I thought for you, so I told him you weren’t there. Without saying anything, he went back into the office.”
My stomach clenched at her words. I wished I’d gone to the studio yesterday, if only to catch a glimpse of him.
“I broke up with him last week.”
Both of my friends gasped.
“Why, Frannie? I thought everything was going so great,” Eliza said.
“It was, it really was. But he fucked up and I fucked up and I couldn’t do it.” I told them the whole story, the way he’d held back important details about himself and all my fears about his age and inexperience.
Eliza shook her head. “But you love him. The lies aren’t good, but I can almost understand his reasoning. And he treats you like gold, Frannie. There aren’t many guys out there like him.”
I squeezed her hand. She knew firsthand about the shitty guys out there. Well, at least one of them.
“I’ve spent the last week beating myself up over this. I wore Chucks to work for fuck’s sake! But because he’s so amazing, so wonderful, I just want to be fair to him. There’s no way I can be the only woman he’ll ever want.” I tried to clear the tightness from my throat. “And I know it would break me if he left me. It took me a long time to rebuild myself, but I’m still not completely together.”
Rachel’s brows pinched. “Frannie, I don’t know why you keep calling yourself a mess or saying you don’t have your shit together. You’re a great friend, you have a successful career, you live in a nice apartment, and you’re generally an awesome person. I hate when you get down on yourself like this. It’s not you.”
I looked down at the table and tapped my fork against my plate. “Years of conditioning, I guess.”
Eliza rubbed my forearm. “Believe me, I know what it’s like to grow up under rigid expectations and never feel good enough. But you are, Frannie. You and James were both lucky to find each other again. How can you look fate in the face and laugh at her?”
I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean, E?”
“I mean, what are the chances that this kid you met ten years ago, who grew up to be a really awesome man, would just so happen to start working at your favorite bar? If that’s not fate, I don’t know what is.”
“I don’t even believe in fate and I agree with her,” Rachel said.
Eliza killed me with her optimism. She had the most wretched, controlling boyfriend, yet she still saw the good in the world. I wished I had just a tenth of her positivity.
“You’re so sweet, E. Maybe I am laughing at fate, I don’t know. A week ago, it felt like the right decision.”
“And now?” asked Rachel.
I looked at her and tried to smile. “Now it feels like I’ve fucked everything up. But I don’t know how to get past my fear and I don’t know if James would even want me if I could.”
Rachel stood up and hugged me. “If he doesn’t want you anymore, then screw him, he’s an idiot.”
I laughed. I didn’t know why I’d been avoiding my girls for so long. They always made me feel better, even when I made the worst possible decisions.
“He’s not an idiot, but thank you.” She kissed my forehead and I leaned my head against her, relishing the contact. I’d gone too long without touching someone else, and touch was a vital part of what made me sane. Even if it was a hug from a friend, I craved that physical closeness.
We finished our dinner and moved to the living room to talk more and eat the Girl Scout cookies Joe had bought from one of his students. Thin Mints for life!
“So, I laid my shit on the table. Are we going to talk about Friendsgiving?”
Eliza breathed out a defeated sigh. “I guess we can.”
“What the hell, E? How can you still be with him when he talks to you like that?”
Rachel pushed my knee. “Frannie…”
I shrugged. “We’ve danced around this for years. The guy is a piece of shit and I’m not going to pull my punches anymore.”
Eliza nodded. “I know he is. My parents love him, they love his parents, but he’s definitely a piece of shit.”
I was shocked to hear her admit it. “Then why the hell are you with him?”
“I don’t want to be anymore. I found a place to live and it will be available next month. So, I’m going to leave him then.”
I stood up then sat back down. “What?”
“You’re really leaving him, E?” Rachel asked.
“Yeah, I really am.”
“You know you can stay with us. You don’t have to wait until next month to move out,”
Rachel said.
Eliza shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t want to intrude on you and Joe. You just got engaged, you don’t need a third wheel. Besides, I’ve waited this long, what’s a few more weeks?”
“You would never be a third wheel, Eliza,” Rachel said.
E sighed. “I know, but I’d feel that way. It’ll be okay. I’ll just work late and hang out with you guys. Time will fly and before you know it I’ll be out of there. My parents will probably disown me—I mean literally never speak to me again—but I’ve come to a point where I can’t care about that anymore. And I love my tattoo, way more than I ever loved Edward. Which is pretty sad considering how long we’ve been together.”
Rachel and I looked at each other and shared a smile. I’d never heard Eliza speak so forcefully, even at work. She sounded determined and I was really proud of her. She told us more about her plans and where she’d be moving, and Rachel and I showered her with encouragement. It seemed like we both wanted to reinforce to Eliza that she was making the right decision.
“You deserve only the best, Eliza,” I told her.
Rachel clapped her hands. “You know what we need?”
Eliza and I stared at her.
“Music, sillies! We need to have a dance party!”
I wasn’t really in the dancing mood, which was my main reason for agreeing to it. Nothing cured a bad mood faster than dancing with your girlfriends.
Rachel played a Spice Girls song and the three of us danced around the living room, each in our own way. Rachel broke into The Running Man, Eliza slowly swayed in one spot, and I leaped and spun all over the room. We danced until we were sweaty and exhausted, but laughing and happy.
I wrapped my arms around my friends. “I love you guys, you know that?”
“We love you too, Frannie. And I want you to know you deserve only the best too. If you think that’s James, then you should be with him. If you think the best is yet to come, then I’ll support that decision too. But make sure you only settle for the best, nothing less,” Eliza said softly.
I choked up. “Thanks, E.”
When I drove back to Baltimore, I went back and forth between feeling uplifted by my night with my girlfriends and completely flattened by how much I missed James. He was absolutely, positively the best, but was I the best for him? I wasn’t sure, even though I knew my friends would yell at me for doubting myself like that.
When I parked in my parking garage, instead of riding the elevator up, I walked up the ramp to the sidewalk. The air was starting to get a real chill since it was almost December, so I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay outside long. I just wanted to see Bar Royal because I knew he was probably in there. This was as close as I dared to get, but I needed to feel closer to him.
I stood there, right on the edge of the sidewalk, and the door swung open. I held my breath when I saw James walk out. He was looking down, but something made him glance up. His eyes met mine and he stilled.
“Frannie?” he rasped. He moved to the edge of the sidewalk so only the narrow street separated us. He watched me, waiting to see what I’d do. But I couldn’t move. I could only stare, drinking in every ounce of his beautiful face. He looked tired, sad, but still my sweet James.
We stood staring at each other for a long time. Maybe minutes. Then the bar door opened, and Val walked out.
“Okay, James, I’m ready to go!” She clung to his bicep and gazed up at him, not noticing me at all.
I gasped and stepped back from the edge of the curb. My stomach churned, and I had to swallow repeatedly to keep from throwing up. There he was doing just what I’d told him to do and I couldn’t bear it. I turned around and retreated into my apartment building.
I went straight to bed and clutched my phone in my hand, listening to his voice on repeat. “Still so beautiful.” I decided it was okay to hide under my blankets because tomorrow I’d be brave and throw on my high heels and face the day. But tonight, I needed my cave.
As I listened to him repeat that phrase for the thousandth time, my phone buzzed with a text.
I was walking Val home. Her ex has been bothering her and she didn’t want to walk alone. That’s all.
I exhaled heavily. I shouldn’t have felt so relieved. I’d pushed him toward her. That he’d bothered to explain what I saw made my heart leap. And then I realized nothing had changed. He was still twenty-three, I was still a mess, and I couldn’t find my way back to him. I wanted to, so very badly.
Frannie, say something, anything.
I read his second text again and again. It physically pained me not to go find him. And I despised myself for making him hurt too.
Goodnight, James.
I laid my phone down and pulled the blankets over my head. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’d be brave.
Twenty-Seven
I got my shit together over the next week. Any time I wanted to retreat to my bed, I forced myself to go for a walk or hang out with Laurel. I didn’t delete James’ pictures because that would have just been cruel to myself and despite recent events, I wasn’t a masochist. I did make myself stop looking at them, though. Okay, I made myself stop looking at them every five minutes. Once an hour seemed pretty reasonable.
I hadn’t been to my dance class in two weeks, and I really missed it. So, I ran out of work after my last client and drove to the studio. I didn’t know what kind of reception I’d receive from Ryan, or if James would be there, but I decided to take my chances. I couldn’t stop living, and dancing had always been a vital part of my life.
When I got to the studio, I changed, then went into my regular class. I was actually a few minutes early for once, so I got to talk to the girls in my class. They’d all wondered where I’d been for the last few weeks, and when I said breakup, they all said “ahhh” and gave me looks of sympathy. Whether you’re nineteen or twenty-nine, breakups universally blow.
Ms. Catherine walked in the room and banged her cane on the floor. We all lined up in our spots, our backs ramrod straight. She walked down the line of us and paused in front of me.
“Ms. Rivera, good of you to finally join us again. Do you think you don’t need as much practice as your classmates, who are here every week, rain or shine?”
I shook my head. “No, Ms. Catherine. I had a personal issue. It won’t happen again.”
She seemed to contemplate my words, tapping on her bottom lip. “Was it a man, Ms. Rivera?”
“Yes, it was.”
She banged her cane and scoffed. “It always is.”
Ms. Catherine worked us hard. We were on the floor, then up, then leaping and pirouetting, back on the floor doing splits, then up again doing body rolls. I loved every second of it. I had a smile on my face and sweat dripping in my eyes. I didn’t know why I’d skipped this class for two weeks. It’s like I left every ounce of pain and sadness in the boards of the dance floor. I didn’t want to stop when class was over, but I wasn’t ready to talk to Ryan and ask him if I could use one of the other studios.
As I gathered my things, Ms. Catherine stood in front of me.
“Ms. Rivera, I never told you, but I saw you dance back in your professional days.”
I looked up from my dance bag, surprised. “You did?”
She nodded. “Yes. I’ve never seen a more insecure dancer dance so beautifully. You’ve changed over the years. If you’d danced like you do now back then, you would have gone far in your career. You don’t hold back when you dance.” She tapped my foot with her cane. “I hope you don’t hold back in life either. Because, like with your career in dance, you won’t get very far if you do.”
I was stunned by her words and my heart started fluttering. “I was always afraid when I danced. Scared I wasn’t good enough, scared to be hurt.”
“Silly girl. Didn’t you get hurt anyway?”
I nodded.
“So, if you’re going to be hurt either way, don’t you think it would have been better to leave your heart on that stage, to see how far you could go, th
an to never try at all?”
I closed my eyes and put my hand over my rapidly beating heart. “But what if it turned out I gave it my all and I wasn’t good enough?”
“Ms. Rivera, I don’t have time for ridiculous questions. If you give it your all and it doesn’t work out, then you have the satisfaction of knowing you tried your hardest. The true measure of a person is how they react to adversity. I have always admired those who try, even though the outcome is uncertain.”
I smiled a little. “We’re not talking about dance anymore, are we?”
Ms. Catherine turned up her nose. “Whatever else would we be talking about, Ms. Rivera?” She banged her cane one last time, and just before she turned to walk away, she gave me a wink so quick I thought I might have imagined it. Her words resonated with me on multiple levels. The most powerful thing she said was in protecting myself from pain, I’d gotten hurt anyway, so wouldn’t it have been better to give it my all? Leaving James hadn’t lessened the ache in my chest. I still felt like I could barely breathe most of the time.
I went into the lobby to put on my shoes and jacket. As I was bent over to zip up my boots, someone stood in front of me.
“Long time, no see, Francisca,” Ryan said. As much as I loved him, he wasn’t the brother I’d been aching to see.
“Hey, Ryan.” I smiled up at him and zipped up my other boot.
He offered me a hand and he pulled me up.
“Where’ve you been, Frannie?”
I shrugged. “Truthfully? I was in bed for two weeks.”
Ryan sighed, then reached out and pulled me into a hug, holding me tight against him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and laid my head on his shoulder. He wasn’t quite big enough and he wasn’t nearly tall enough, but it still felt good to be in his arms.
He kissed the side of my head. “I’m pissed you at. But you’re still my friend and I love you, so I hate that you’re struggling. Why’d you do it?”
“What’d he tell you?”
Ryan let go of me and stepped back. “Some bullshit about him being too young.”
“It didn’t feel like bullshit when I said it.”