by Linda Seed
Joy sighed, closed her laptop, and turned in her chair to face Amber.
“It’s just weird that you were flirting with Nix, that’s all.”
Amber blinked a few times. “I wasn’t flirting.”
“Oh, my God. Yes, you were. Which is fine. I mean, why shouldn’t you? But you definitely were.”
Amber put her fists on her hips and glared at her best friend. “I was just happy. I was having fun. Not that you’d recognize something like that, even if it smacked you on the ass and called you Sally.”
Joy’s mouth fell open. “What are you talking about?”
Amber perched on the edge of the sofa and faced Joy. “Look. This could be a new start for you. A change of pace, which you really, really need. But it’s not going to do you any good if you keep trying to live like you were in L.A. I mean, it wasn’t working for you there, why should it work for you here?”
Joy closed the laptop and went to the sofa to sit beside Amber. “What do you mean it wasn’t working? I was doing fine in L.A. Other than the money issue.”
“No, you weren’t.” Amber softened her tone and laid a hand on Joy’s jean-clad knee. “Joy, I’ve known you for a long time. And you know I love you. That’s why I’ve got to be honest with you.”
“Okay.”
“The whole materialistic, selfie-taking hot-girl thing you’ve got going on? It’s not doing you any favors.”
Joy felt a hot ball of dread forming in her stomach. Amber had always been supportive, had always played the cheerleader for Joy. Had she disapproved of her all this time?
“I don’t know what you mean.” It came out barely above a whisper.
“Joy. The Prada purses and the Louboutins and all of that are fun—don’t get me wrong. But they’re not making you happy. You haven’t been happy for a long time.”
Joy didn’t answer. She just looked at the floor, feeling the hot sting of indignation and shame. Indignation, because none of this seemed fair. Shame, because it did seem true.
“You’ve never said any of this before.”
“I’ve wanted to.” Amber’s voice was gentle. “But then, when you decided to come here? I thought I might not have to. I thought the change of scenery might help. But then, seeing you picking at that veggie patty and lettuce? You’re starving yourself over a pound, and for what? Joy, you don’t really think that your weight matters that much, do you? Do you really think your body in a swimsuit is all you have to offer?”
Tears burned in Joy’s eyes, and she blinked to hold them back. “It doesn’t matter what I think. My followers—”
“To hell with your followers.” Amber turned on the sofa to face Joy more fully and gave her an encouraging smile. “They don’t know you like I do. They don’t know how you used to laugh and have fun, how you used to be warm and kind and funny before you got into the whole Internet thing. But I do. I know you. And I know that the pound only has as much power as you choose to give it.”
The speech was devastating, and Joy tried not to show that it had hit its mark. She nodded and squeezed Amber’s hand. “I know. I get that. I’ll think about what you said.”
“Good.” Amber offered another upbeat smile, then went outside to sit on the porch and enjoy the outdoors.
When she was gone, Joy went back to the table, opened her laptop again, and stared at the screen. She couldn’t seem to focus on anything. Whenever she tried, Amber’s voice came back to her.
They don’t know how you used to laugh and have fun, how you used to be warm and kind and funny before you got into the whole Internet thing.
Used to.
Had she really changed that much? Was Amber really still friends with her only because of the memory of who Joy used to be?
And who would she be now if she just let herself do what she wanted, let herself be who she wanted? Who would she be without the adoration of thousands of anonymous people online?
A cheeseburger wasn’t just a cheeseburger, and the pound—and its friends—would mean ridicule and judgment and scorn. As much as she wanted to let go, as much as she wanted to embrace fun and food and, God, even love, all of those things took courage.
More courage than Joy had.
She wanted to be brave, she just didn’t know how.
When Amber had walked with Nix on the trail and Joy had fallen behind, Nix had expected an enjoyable bout of flirting. He wasn’t interested in Amber, really—and even if he had been, she was going home in a day or two—but who didn’t like flirting? Who didn’t enjoy a little harmless banter with an attractive woman?
But that wasn’t what happened. Instead, Amber took that time to talk to him about Joy.
She’d started with an explanation of Joy’s finer qualities—loyalty, kindness, and intelligence among them—and then she’d apologize for her friend’s attitude that day.
“She’s not usually so negative,” Amber had told him. “But she’s going through some stuff right now, so.”
Nix didn’t know what it was that Joy might be going through, and he was certain it was none of his business. But he was also certain that he wanted to find out.
Nix drove back to Otter Bluff from his place on Santa Rosa Creek Road thinking about it.
If Joy had been a bit standoffish with him, it might be because he’d been a dick to her before. He was making a sincere effort to be pleasant and hospitable now, but he’d definitely been prickly with her after he’d seen that first video. So maybe she was just feeling residual annoyance from that.
He brought it up with Evan on the phone that afternoon when Nix called to update him on the renovation plan.
“I probably irritated the shit out of her by tagging along with her and her friend like that,” he said. “But, hell, I was just trying to be nice.” He was sitting on the patio in an Adirondack chair, sipping from a bottle of beer and looking at the sunlight on the ocean as he talked.
“So you just showed up and invited yourself on an outing?”
“No. No, no. I showed up to lend Joy some books on organic gardening that, let’s face it, she doesn’t want and she’ll probably never take off the shelf. And then her friend asked me to show them around.”
“Hmm. The friend asked you,” Evan said.
“Right. I mean, I knew Joy didn’t want me to go, but I did it anyway, because when an attractive woman asks you to spend the day with her and her attractive friend, what kind of asshole says no?”
“Not you,” Evan said mildly.
“Damn right.”
“Well … what are the chances Joy is jealous?” Evan asked.
“Jealous? About what? Why?”
“I don’t know. I mean, maybe she’s got the hots for you. Her friend was the one to invite you along, and maybe the friend was being a little overly friendly.…”
“Joy Maxwell does not have the hots for me. In fact, it’s my considered opinion that she can’t stand me.”
“Well …”
“What?” Nix demanded.
“It’s just, women don’t always mean what you think they mean.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” Nix said.
“I’m just saying, maybe Joy’s attitude was a female competition thing.”
“You think so?”
“Who the hell knows?” Evan said.
Certainly not Nix.
“Of course,” Evan went on, “it’s also possible that she’s repulsed by you and cringed at the very idea of spending time with you.”
“Yeah … you know, I’ve thought of that, but thanks for bringing it up.”
Nix ended the call even less certain about the motives of women than he’d been before. Maybe Joy liked him and was jealous about the attention Amber had given him. Maybe she couldn’t stand him. Or maybe she had family problems, or a hangnail, or one of those irritating tension headaches you couldn’t get rid of.
The mysteries of women eluded him. More often than not, the women themselves did, too.
Chapter 13
&nb
sp; Joy and Amber ate dinner that night at a fish and chips place in Morro Bay. Amber had a pile of hot, steaming fish and french fries in front of her, while Joy was picking at a salad with fat-free dressing.
Looking at Amber’s food and then at her own almost had Joy in tears.
The pound was back despite all of Joy’s work to keep it away, despite all of the fat-free salads and all of the spin classes and workouts. Not only that, she’d looked in the mirror this morning and had seen signs of fine lines fanning out from the corners of her eyes, and more beginning to form around her mouth.
She was in her thirties now, and she wouldn’t be able to keep the signs of aging at bay forever. She could hide the pound with careful clothing choices. She could hide the lines with good makeup. But that was now. What about later, when she couldn’t hide them anymore? Who would she be then? What would she do when her followers deserted her—as they were already starting to do—and her career plummeted into obscurity?
“Are you sure you don’t want some of this?” Amber gestured toward her plate.
“No, thank you. This salad is fine.” Joy tried to smile, but it came out wobbly.
“If you’re worried about the pound coming back—”
“It’s back!” Joy let her fork drop onto her plate. “It’s back already, and I can’t make it go away, Amber! No matter how many salads I eat or spin classes I take, I just can’t make it go away!”
Amber’s expression softened, and she tilted her head slightly as she regarded her friend. “Well … I don’t want this to sound harsh, because I don’t mean it that way. But … you’re not twenty-two anymore. At some point, the pound is going to stay.”
“I know I’m not twenty-two anymore! Look at this!” Joy pointed to the corner of one eye.
Amber leaned in closer. “What am I looking at?”
“Wrinkles! That’s what you’re looking at! Should I get Botox, maybe? Is it time for that?”
Amber peered at the spot Joy had indicated, then leaned back in her chair and arranged her features in a patient expression that Joy thought would serve her well when she had kids one day.
“You don’t need Botox.”
“Well, I need something.”
“No argument there.”
Was that some kind of dig? Joy thought it probably was, but Amber was too kind for it to be a dig. So what was it?
“What do you mean by that?” Joy tried to keep the defensiveness out of her voice, to present it as a neutral question.
“I mean, you definitely need something, and it’s not Botox, and it’s not another damned salad.” Amber gestured toward Joy’s plate. “What you need is … is to stop worrying about how you look and start thinking about how you feel. Start enjoying things, for God’s sake. Joy, when did you stop living just for the sake of having fun and experiencing things? When did it all get to be about how things look on Instagram?”
Part of Joy wanted to get up, turn around, and walk away so she wouldn’t have to have this conversation. But another part of her knew—really knew—that it was a conversation she needed to have. So she stayed where she was, took a deep breath, let it out, and willed herself to respond honestly and not defensively.
“I’m worried about it because that’s how I make my living, Amber.”
“I get that. I honestly do. But that’s not going to last forever, is it? I mean, aging happens to all of us, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. There aren’t a whole lot of successful influencers out there in their forties and fifties, so you were going to have to come up with another plan eventually.”
“But—”
“It’s not making you happy, Joy, and it hasn’t for a long time. I can see that. If you’re going to need a change of plan at some point, why not now? Why not make a new life for yourself that feels better than the one you had?”
It was a fair point, but it seemed to Joy that Amber was missing a key detail.
“That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? In Cambria? I’m trying something new. Testing out a new life.”
Amber folded her arms on the table and leaned toward Joy. “Yes. But the change of scenery isn’t going to work unless you actually let it change you.”
Joy was subdued on the drive home from Morro Bay. Amber kept glancing at her furtively from the passenger seat.
“You’re mad, aren’t you?” Amber said.
“No.”
“You are. You’re mad. And you should really just say so, so we can—”
“I’m really not.” Joy kept her voice soft and her eyes on the road. “I’m just …thinking. It’s clear you’ve had that on your mind for a while, and now that you’ve said it, I just … I need to think about it.”
“Well … that’s good.” Amber nodded. “I’m glad. And Joy? I really hope you took it in the spirit I meant it. I just care about you, and I want you to be happy.”
“I know. I do.”
“Are you going to see Nix again?” Amber asked after a while.
“Nix? Why?”
Amber shrugged. “Because if you do decide to let yourself have a little fun, that doesn’t seem like a bad place to start.”
Nix had left it open about whether he would get together with Joy and Amber on Sunday morning, before Amber had to leave for L.A. But he wasn’t sure why he’d done that. Mostly to be nice, he guessed. The fact was, Joy obviously didn’t want that, which gave the whole thing a level of tension that he’d just as soon avoid.
There was some kind of weird dynamic going on. Amber had started out flirting with him, but then she’d shifted over to trying to sell him on all of Joy’s various attributes.
And regardless of what he’d been talking to Amber about, the more he spoke to her—the more he hung out with her—the more irritated Joy seemed to get.
A female competition thing, probably, and he didn’t need it.
Besides, he was busy. He had a job. He had the Otter Bluff project.
The last thing he wanted was to lose valuable time getting mired in a woman situation he didn’t understand.
So he got up on Sunday morning, showered, made his first cup of coffee, then texted Joy, asking her to please tell Amber he couldn’t make it.
Sorry, something came up. You should still take her to see Hearst Castle, though. It’s amazing.
He sent the text, not expecting to get any response. The answer came within minutes, though.
Thanks for letting me know. I’ll tell her.
Then, after a pause:
Thank you for yesterday. Amber and I both had a good time.
That came as a surprise. The last thing he’d thought was that Joy had experienced anything resembling fun.
No problem, he wrote back. Let me know if you want to do it again sometime. Just the two of us.
He sent it before he gave himself a chance to think about it. Yes, he’d begged off today because of the screaming tension he’d had to deal with the day before. But the tension had to do with the Joy-Amber dynamic. If it was just Joy, it might be fine.
That’s what he told himself.
He also told himself that he hadn’t just asked her out on a date. Of course not. He was just being hospitable. He was just being a good neighbor.
So why was he nervous about how she would respond?
Joy looked at the text message Nix had sent for much longer than it took to read it.
Was he asking her out? It really looked like he was asking her out.
“What’s that?” Amber bustled around in the tiny kitchen, making a pot of coffee.
“Oh … it’s nothing. It’s just … Nix can’t make it today. But he thinks we should go to Hearst Castle anyway.”
“Oh.” Amber frowned, a bag of ground coffee in one hand and the coffee pot in the other. “That’s too bad. I had a scheme planned.”
“You had a scheme?” Joy’s eyebrows rose.
“Yeah. I was going to wait until we had the whole outing planned, then I was gonna back out at the last second, when he was alr
eady here and the tickets were already bought and everything.”
Joy regarded her friend. “Why in the world were you going to do that?”
“So the two of you would have to go together, obviously. It’s called a setup, in case you’re unfamiliar with the concept.”
“Seriously?”
“Sure. Why not?” Amber set up the coffeemaker, measuring coffee into the filter. “We talked about you maybe going out with him. You know, as part of the whole Joy-gets-her-groove-on project.”
“I’m not sure that’s an actual thing,” Joy said.
“Well, it should be.”
“And anyway,” Joy went on, “you flirted with him a lot yesterday. I thought maybe you and he—”
“I wasn’t flirting. I mean, yes, it started out that way. But once I caught on that you like him, I stopped. After that, I was telling him about you.”
“You were?”
“Yes.” Amber poured the water into the reservoir and turned on the machine. “I told him how awesome and fun you are, and what a great person you are. Though, it really would have helped my case if you’d been in a better mood yesterday.”
“I was in a bad mood because I had to eat a veggie patty and lettuce!” Joy protested.
“Lesson learned,” Amber said. “Next time, prepare by eating a cheeseburger. You’ll be in a better mood, and you can work off the calories later in the date.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Joy considered objecting, but what was the point? The scenario Amber had presented to her sounded like a pretty good time.
“Actually …” She held out her phone so Amber could see the screen. “He just asked me out. Kind of. I think.”
Amber’s eyes widened, and she bounced up and down on her toes a little. “He did?”
“Read it.”
Amber rushed over to where Joy sat and looked at the phone.