Separate Like Stars

by Diana Kane

  “Thanks,” she manages after taking a deep breath and pushing it out. She flashes us a much calmer smile before dismissing herself and disappearing behind the double doors into the kitchen.

  “You okay?” Addison asks as she places her hand on the small of my back, her green eyes searching mine.

  “I’m fine,” I answer before giving her a quick kiss.

  “You sure? That looked a bit intense,” she observes as she tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “Look, I know you loved her more than you’ve ever loved anyone, and that’s okay. It’s also okay if you’re a little rattled. You’re navigating tricky waters, trying to be her friend again. I think it would only be natural to experience some awkward moments.”

  “I admit that it felt like deja vu initially. It’s the first physical contact I’ve had with her since she came back though, so I’m not surprised. I promise I’m fine,” I affirm as I lace my fingers through hers.

  “I hate to interrupt, but your mom is signaling we need to get upstairs,” Gavin informs us.

  “Wait,” Addison says as she turns to the bartender. “Could you take our picture for us please?” she asks as she pulls Gavin and me tightly to her and waves for Kira to join us.

  “I’ll take it,” Kira says as she holds out her hand.

  “What? Get in here with us,” Gavin tries to convince her.

  “You’re posting this on social media, aren’t you?” she says as she looks at Addison.

  “Well I’m not, but I’ll send them to my media manager, yeah.”

  “Right. No offense Gavin, but you and I are just getting to know each other. I’m not ready to deal with all the attention that comes with publicly dating you. If we want to take something later that won’t end up all over the internet; I’m cool with that,” she concludes with a smile.

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” he informs her with a wink and the sincere smile he reserves for those he feels closest too. Straight women and gay men around the world already swoon over him, but if they could see this smile, they’d be helpless. Holy shit, he likes her, the realization hits me, spreading the biggest smile across my lips seconds before Kira takes the picture.

  “Give me your phone, and I’ll take one of the three of you,” Addison surprisingly offers as Kira passes her phone back to her.

  “I’d make it fast,” I warn everyone when I spy my mom at the top of the stairs, glaring down at us. Addison looks back and blanches slightly when she spots the reason for my warning.

  “Great,” she groans. “She already hates me. I’m going to be dodging daggers all through dinner now,” she mutters before snapping the photo.

  Chapter 19

  “You made it,” Olivia exclaims as she holds the door open for me and takes the grocery bags from my glove covered hands. I tap the toes of my boots against the side of her house before quickly heading inside, trying to let out as little heat as possible.

  “I hope I didn’t forget anything,” I reply, my scarf and coat muffling my voice. I quickly unzip my thick down coat and immediately start unwinding the scarf my mom knit for me last winter, the warmth of Olivia’s house a welcome respite from the frigid conditions outside.

  “I think we’ll manage if you did,” she assures me as she patiently waits for me to shed my outdoor wear. “What I see looks good. Candy, popcorn, and chips. I made guacamole, salsa, a BBQ chicken pizza, and a pepperoni pizza. I also have the stuff to make us hot chocolate. I think we’ll survive snowmageddon,” she informs me as I work on unlacing my snow boots.

  “Where’s Lexa?” I ask when I’m finally free of my snow gear and realize that I haven’t been greeted by the beast yet.

  “I let her outside when you messaged that you were on your way. You should see her out there, jumping around in the snow. She loves it,” Olivia shares with a laugh. “Look at her,” she instructs me as we pass through the dining room. “She’s such a goofball.”

  “Well she is your kid,” I quip through my laughter as I watch Lexa pouncing around amidst the flurries, snapping at the rapidly falling flakes.

  “And she acts more like me every day,” Olivia proudly acknowledges as she enters the kitchen, her smile coming through in her tone. “Are you hungry? I already put the pies together, they just need to bake.”

  “Whenever you are.”

  “All right. Oh,” she says as she turns and faces me. “I see it’s already getting deep out there.”

  “Huh?” I ask as I follow her line of sight. “Oh, yeah. Already knee high in most places,” I share as I start pulling off the extra pair of sweats I wore. Yoga pants and two pairs of sweatpants and I still felt the sting of the cold winter wind. “Do you mind if I hang these over the side of your tub?”

  “That’s fine. Hey, would you let Lexa in on your way through? You may have to encourage her to come inside,” she adds as she opens the pantry and pulls out a pig ear. “Honestly, you’d think she had the coat of a German Shepard the way she refuses to come in from the cold,” she states with a shake of her head as she passes me the treat.

  “I’ll do my best,” I inform her as I exit the room. I quickly deposit my snowy sweats in the bathroom and retrieve my slippers from my bag before heading back to the sliding door to coax Lexa inside. I look out the door but don’t see her through the whiteout until I tap on the glass, causing her to come bounding back towards the house.

  “Will she come in or do I have to get dressed and go get her?”

  “Not sure yet. You do realize we’re gonna need to bounce around in the snow with her tomorrow if we eat all this food tonight.”

  “We won’t be bouncing anywhere. They’re calling for two feet of fresh snow on top of the foot we already had. We might be snowed in for days, but we won’t be jumping around in it,” she says as she pulls open the door and Lexa comes bolting inside, still bouncing around as she greets me. “I’m just hoping I picked up enough firewood to keep us warm in the event we lose power. I have the LED lanterns and spare batteries as well.”

  “God I hope we don’t lose power. I really don’t feel like dealing with the stress of frozen and burst pipes.” Just the thought of burst pipes makes the introvert in me want to wade through the snow and camp out in my basement; like my presence would somehow ensure it doesn’t happen.

  “Come on. We’ll pack up our rations and leave after the pizzas are done.”

  “What?” I ask as I follow her into the kitchen.

  “I can still interpret your facial expressions. I know you were thinking about going home to babysit your house.”

  “No. We decided to hole up here because of the fence for Lexa and the fireplace in case we lose power. We’re staying here.”

  “If you’re sure,” she asks as she opens the oven and checks on our dinner.

  “I’m sure,” I affirm before changing the subject. “How much damage do you think the storm will do to business? Did you have holiday parties that you had to cancel?” We’re a week past Thanksgiving, and Olivia has mentioned the longer hours she’ll be working to help out during the party rush. I hope for her sake that the storm isn’t a blow to du Pays while it’s still in its infancy.

  “Not too badly,” she says as she turns the pizzas and closes the oven door. My stomach grumbles as the delectable aroma of the pies assail my nose, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since breakfast. “Most of our reservations called to reschedule on their own, given the storm was forecasted a few days ago. Being shut down for a day or two isn’t ideal, but we likely wouldn’t have any business if we were open. I’d rather everyone stayed

  safe. We’ve been booked pretty solid thanks to Gavin and Addison promoting us on social media, so I think a day or two of downtime will be good for the staff.”

  “Are you holding up okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m used to the long hours and Miguel, Brenda, and Sofie have been amazing.”

  “Glad to hear it,” I answer as I ponder if I really want to ask my next question. “Not to come off as being nega
tive, but how do you expect to retain your chefs and sous chefs? Jupiter Falls isn’t exactly a mecca of culture. I don’t expect everyone to enjoy life here.”

  “Honestly, I don’t. But I knew that going into this. Miguel is on loan from Véronique. He’s here to take a larger role in running an establishment and formulate a plan for his own place that he hopes to open in his hometown in Arizona. Véronique is waiting to see how successful du Pays is and deciding if it’s something she’d like to continue growing her brand with. Sofie is here to learn from me for a bit before I send her back to Véronique. I have a feeling she may be the next heir apparent, but I don’t know that for sure. I don’t know what Brenda’s plan is, but I’ve spoken with a few culinary programs and have agreed to take on an aspiring chef or two when the time comes. The community college has also approached me about teaching one or two basics courses next fall, depending on interest. So I’ll be able to utilize those students in the restaurant too.” She shrugs before combing her fingers through her wavy locks, effectively pushing the offending strand out of her face. “Look, I know I’m not a businesswoman and that I’ve likely not covered every possible base, but I didn’t throw this plan together overnight. I worked on it for nearly a year before approaching Véronique with it. She dissected it and pointed out any areas of concern. We went back and forth with it for months, trying to iron out any wrinkles. Anything that happens from here on out, I’ll have to deal with as it comes.” I watch as she rechecks the pizzas, quickly tearing open the oven door and letting it slam shut when she’s finished.

  “Hey,” I gently coax her to look at me. “I didn’t ask out of a place of malice or a desire to see you fail. I was genuinely curious and wondered if it was something you had thought about. I’ve eaten at du Pays several times. I have every confidence it’ll be successful, but you mentioned not missing working 12 to 14 hours a day, six days a week. I just hope your passion project doesn’t turn into something you regret.”

  “I appreciate that,” she acknowledges, leaving an uncomfortable silence hanging between us. Despite the two of us sharing a few meals at du Pays or just chatting for a while on a routine basis, we’re still figuring out the steps involved in this dance. While the missteps seem to be occurring with decreased frequency, we still somehow manage to get under the other one’s skin a little more often than we probably should. Admittedly, I tend to say something or take something the wrong way more than Olivia, but I think we both expected that. Tonight is a true test though, one I almost didn’t subject myself to. When Olivia suggested we ride out the blizzard together with food, movies, and board games, I nearly declined. After debating about it, I decided it was worth a shot, given it would be a decent measuring stick to see if Olivia and I can ever be friends like we once were.

  “So…when are you going to spill the details about that disastrous date you had me fake emergency call you out of last weekend?” I flash her my best mischievous grin, knowing whatever happened has her thoroughly embarrassed because she has balked and avoided giving me any details.

  “First of all, it wasn’t a date,” she points out as she shakes her head and checks on dinner again. My mouth waters as she reaches for a towel and pulls the pies out of the oven. “Pizza to the edge and what you always referred to as the happy medium between thin crust and traditional crust,” she shares as she slides the first pizza off of its pan and uses an implement that looks like a machete to cut it. I watch as she makes quick work of the first pie and repeats the process on the second.

  “How do you remember that?”

  “How could I ever forget?” she asks as she picks up both pizzas and turns for the dining room. “I’ll grab these if you want to grab plates, silverware, and napkins,” she instructs as she passes into the dining room. My hunger pushes me to make quick work of gathering the supplies, instinct directing me to look for things in the places they always were.

  “You were gonna tell me about that not a date that I saved you from,” I remind her as I sit down at the table, prepared to eat enough pizza for two days.

  “We need drinks,” she says as she bolts up from her chair. “Water, soda, tea, coffee?” she asks as she speeds into the kitchen, not bothering to wait for my response. What the hell? I think before abandoning the temptation the pizza presents in favor of following Olivia into the kitchen.

  “Did something happen before you messaged me?”

  “Nothing happened, per se,” she says as she pops out of the refrigerator and brandishes a can of Mountain Dew in my direction.

  “Did you buy that just for me?” I ask, knowing full well it’s my biggest guilty pleasure and Olivia would rather have her root beer.

  “Yeah. We’ve been hanging out enough I figured you’d finish it before the sell by date,” she explains as she grabs a can of root beer and closes the door. “Let’s eat,” she says as she passes me my can of liquid delight and leads me back into the dining room.

  “Care to elaborate on the nothing happened per se?” I ask as I greedily grab a slice from each pie.

  “Honestly, it wasn’t anything specific, more a culmination of things that just made the whole situation feel not quite right. She had this whole control thing going from the get-go, which I can accommodate, but when we were at the show I thought it would ease up, or she’d be all right doing her own thing. But she wasn’t. She acted like it’d be some kind of cardinal sin if we split up for a bit. We agreed we’d share the cost of a room, which honestly, I didn’t even feel was strictly necessary. I could have easily driven back. I’m not sure why she couldn’t have as well. Either way, she said she’d take care of the arrangements. So we leave the food show and go to check into our room. It’s a full bed in a hostel,” she says as she closes her eyes and shakes her head in disgust. “Anyway, it was just a combination of things that day, the controlling behavior, the odd comments comparing me to her ex, then the mini bed in a hostel. It didn’t feel right, and I had to get out of there.”

  “Well if it didn’t feel right then you were right to leave,” I manage through my laughter, earning a reproachful look from Olivia. “Come on. You’re gonna laugh about the whole thing sooner or later.”

  “Probably,” she concedes with a smile. “Thanks again for providing me with that emergency call. I would have camped out in the kitchen if I had stayed there.”

  “Where did you pick this woman up?” I ask, unable to stop teasing her about this as much as possible.

  “I didn’t pick her up. I didn’t even know she thought it was a date or a hookup or whatever. She’s a regular at the NA meeting I go to sometimes. She seemed harmless enough the few times I’ve interacted with her. I don’t think I’ll be going back to that meeting anytime soon though.”

  “You know you’re ready to laugh about it,” I attempt to cajole her. “Come on, laugh it out. Better get used to it if you’re going to keep pulling the crazy women.”

  “You are enjoying this way too much,” she observes through a lopsided grin.

  “Like you wouldn’t be if the situation were reversed.”

  “Oh, I absolutely would be,” she admits before taking an enthusiastic bite of pizza. “So I noticed you brought your laptop. Does that mean you’re writing again?”

  “Not really. I have something I’ve been going back to the last couple of weeks, but I think it’s a dead end.”

  “Why?” she questions, her brow crinkling as she takes a drink of her soda.

  “I don’t know. It’s not like anything I’ve written before. I don’t have a roadmap for it either,” I admit as I think about the story of Olivia and me. The one that keeps poking to the forefront of my consciousness, begging me to pay attention to her.

  “Something different isn’t a bad thing, is it?”

  “Not necessarily. However, this would be a radical departure from anything I’ve written before.”

  “Interesting. I won’t deny that I’m curious, but I learned long ago not to pry. If this one doesn’t work out, something else
will.”

  “Yeah. Addison said the same thing,” I share as I wonder for the millionth time when that inspiration will hit. Is our story something I need to finish to reopen my creativity channels, even if I never publish it?

  “So she isn’t a total lost cause,” Olivia states, but I can’t decide if she’s being sarcastic, sincere, or trying to make a joke. “All right,” she says with her hands raised defensively. “She isn’t all bad. She seemed nice at the opening, and it was very kind of her to rearrange her schedule and offer me some free press. That said, I’ll never approve of how she treats you.”