“It’s not like either of them cheated, as far as I’m aware,” Beth says, sipping her drink. “I guess there’s always a chance. It’s just a matter of if they both actually work on it.”
I nod. “Hey, Beth?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t help at all. I just ditched you here.”
Her expression softens. “Don’t be an idiot. I wasn’t happy you left - and I’ve always wanted to move to New York specifically - but I’d be more unhappy if you’d stayed. But I’m a little surprised; you didn’t seem that miserable here the last few months, aside from the whole Greg situation.”
“No,” I murmur. “I guess I wasn’t.”
Beth smiles a little. “As for Ethan, I should’ve said something earlier if I really wanted to try to make it work with him. It’s my own fault. But I’m also glad I didn’t say anything, you know? It would’ve been worse if he and I were together when he got his soulmate Mark. Oh.”
Beth looks at me with renewed sympathy. She doesn’t need to waste it on me.
“I feel so selfish,” I murmur, setting the coffee aside to hug my knees against my chest. “If I look financially, New York - I mean, pretty much anywhere else in the United States - has more job opportunities. But if I do freelance, and I start to do pretty well at it…”
“And,” Beth points out, “if you keep working at the bookstore…”
I bite my lip. “But here’s the thing. I don’t want Ethan to just choose me out of convenience, you know? I want him to actually, you know, want me.”
“Did he ever actually give you the impression he didn’t?”
I shrug, remembering what he said at his place ages ago.
Beth places her own drink on a coaster and scoots toward me. “Okay, I wasn’t going to say anything, but Ethan actually stopped by earlier. To talk about you and him.”
“Oh, God,” I say, mortified. For once, I’m really realizing how weird it is to have my soulmate be my older sister’s best friend.
“It must’ve been before you talked to him about New York, because I did not get the impression that he was after you out of convenience.”
Despite how weird it is that they’ve been talking about our relationship - or lack thereof - I can’t help but blurt out, “Really?”
She nods, smiling a little. “I think he’s been into you since you came back from New York. But he’s always had a soft spot for you, even when we were kids. It drove me crazy how you’d follow us around when you were little, but Ethan loved it. He always enjoyed spending time with you. Now that we’re all adults…I guess it’s no wonder you two are soulmates.”
I exhale noisily. “I’m so glad I talked to you. I was terrified to do it, but I’m glad I ripped the Band-Aid off.”
“Terrified? Really?”
I snort. “I practically had another anxiety attack just thinking about it.”
She stares at me. “What do you mean, ‘another anxiety attack’? You’ve had anxiety attacks?”
We might need a caffeinated coffee after all.
Chapter 18
I’ve always loved Halloween. It meant my birthday was coming, even though I usually didn’t have big parties or anything. With my mother’s habit of hoarding and my lovely disposition, I didn’t have people over to my house much. Or at all. This Halloween passes quietly by with even less fanfare than usual, although Beth insists we dress up and hit the bar. I just wear a dark skirt and a purple top, and I snag a witch’s hat at Walmart to top off the ensemble. It’s simple, but it works.
Of course, O’Malley’s is the destination she insists on.
Of course, Ethan Perry is working tonight.
Ethan smiles pleasantly, a customer service smile I’m more than familiar with at this point. I’m good at discerning his smiles now.
“Hey, Beth. Abby. Good to see you guys.”
“Yup. Doesn’t Abby look adorable in her outfit?” Beth croons, wrapping an arm around me. I slink away, mortified. She hasn’t even ordered anything yet; I can’t excuse her behavior away with intoxication. Apparently, she’s swung from being jealous to being my wingman.
“Beth,” I hiss, unwrapping myself from her hold. My oversized hat topples toward the bar, but Ethan snags it at the last minute and holds it out to me. I grab it quickly, mumbling a thank you.
“I’m going to dance,” I tell Beth. “Order whatever for me.” I hope she realizes what I mean is, “Please order something very strong.”
Before she can protest, I’m off on the dance floor, which is tiny and could probably only hold maybe twenty couples, but it’s better than anything else Lake Redwood has to offer. A few other people - friends, couples, and individuals - are already dancing, and I blend into the small crowd. The music throbs with a mix of Halloween classics like “Monster Mash” and current hits. There used to be a time when all that played was country music, so I’m glad Mr. Walter’s gotten up on the times.
I dance as much as I can, trying to push away any fears of what Beth might be telling Ethan. Or vice versa. I don’t know which is worse. I feel fragile yet stable after talking to Beth on my birthday, more stable than I would’ve thought. My doctor’s appointment is next week; I hope I’m not wasting my money going.
The bass drops. Someone bumps into me. We grin apologetically at each other before moving on.
Beth pushes her way through. “Here’s your drink,” she cries, handing me my glass. “Ethan said you ordered it before, so hopefully you like it.”
I stop dancing, grabbing it. After a sip, I realize it’s what I usually order. I’ve only been to O’Malley’s once since coming back to Lake Redwood, though. Did he really remember after all this time?
I turn around. Through the laughing crowd, I see his back, his face turned as he talks to some new bartender. It’s busy since it’s Halloween, and the majority of us don’t want to pass out candy to some sticky-fingered children. I shouldn’t talk to him now when it’s so swamped.
Later. I’ll do it later.
“Did he get it right?” Beth asks.
“Yeah,” I say grudgingly. Noticing her smirk, I hiss, “What?”
“Nothing, nothing.” She starts dancing, jumping up and down as a particularly high-energy song comes on.
“Did he say something to you?” I shout over the music, but of course, she only gives me a sneaky look. “Beth!”
“It’s between the two of you,” she sings. Clearly, she’s already enjoyed something before making her way over to me with my drink. I knew she’d taken a while to come back.
“Hasn’t kept you from talking about this stuff before!” I sway to the music, careful not to spill my drink as I sip at it.
“I’m a good sister and friend!” she shouts back, before adding, “Woooo!” as some Ariana Grande song comes on.
“You’re the best sister,” I admit because honestly, she is.
She wraps an arm around me and shouts, “You’re too moody! I’m too moody! Let’s have fun now!”
So we do.
* * *
As I make my way toward the bar an hour or two later, I notice Jen and Nick talking in a corner, looking oddly somber. She takes a glass from his hands, and I look away. It’s none of my business, but I hope it goes okay for her, for them. I mean, she’s a jerk, but she doesn’t deserve to be miserable for the rest of her life.
The bar’s quieter now, the fact that it’s a weekday tomorrow causing plenty of people to cut the night short. I hop up on a barstool and wait for Ethan as he serves a drink.
“Hey.”
My eyes meet the new bartender. He’s got red hair and a confident smirk on his face - not quite arrogant, but almost.
“What’s up?” I say, brainfarting. Obviously, he wants to get my order.
“Can I get you anything, beautiful?”
I frown. “Okay, maybe you don’t realize this, but it’s actually uncomfortable hearing that from a bartender, not flattering.”
“Hey, it’s a complimen
t.”
“If it were a compliment, you’d be backing off now instead of arguing.”
His smirk is completely gone. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe if you weren’t acting so - ”
“Weren’t acting so what?” I ask, setting my chin on my hands and smiling up at him. “You’re new here. You really want to get fired already because you can’t handle female customers?”
His face turns an unflattering shade of red, which does not mesh well with his ginger hair.
I glance over at Ethan, who’s watching. I know it’s contradictory, that I would’ve argued that I could’ve handled it myself if he had intervened. Still, I wish he had. “Ethan, can I get some water for my sister, please?”
“Sure,” he says, sending one last inscrutable look at Ginger before moving on. Within less than a minute, he hands the drink to me. The ice inside chills my hands, a welcome relief from the heat of the dance floor.
“Thanks,” I say. “Um, I also wanted to talk to you for a second, if you have a chance.”
Ethan looks at Ginger. “Think you can handle the rest?”
Ginger seems to have recovered enough. “Yeah. Sure.”
“And Derik?”
Newbie turns.
“Try not to offend half our clientele, okay? I’m sure Mr. Walter wouldn’t be happy with harassment.”
Derik flushes again and scurries away.
Ethan turns back to me. “You all right?”
“Oh, that was nothing, but it’s better to curb that behavior before it escalates, right?” To be honest, I’m still a little jittery from my annoyance, but I could just be feeling off-kilter from the alcohol and my nervousness.
“Sure. I’m sorry for his behavior. I’ll tell Mr. Walter about it right away.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” I say. After a second: “You really don’t need to apologize. I do. I was pushing my own issues on you. I won’t do that again.”
“You don’t need to - ” He cuts himself off, sighing. “When are you leaving?”
“I haven’t decided yet. I emailed my old company and said I was taking time to think about it.”
Something sparks in his eye, but it’s smothered right away. “Got it.”
I smile a little. “You told me once that you admired my honesty, so I’ll be frank. I won’t lie and say I’m not disappointed in how things are going down, but I get why you wouldn’t want to be with me right now, or ever. You’ve got your whole life here. I won’t ask to be a part of it. But I do want to say thanks for one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had.” Thank God for alcohol; I’m far from tipsy, but it definitely softened the cringe in this little speech of mine. I’m sure I’ll remember it tomorrow and agonize over it, but for now, I’m feeling only confident and sad.
He frowns, rubbing the bottom of his ear. “I made you upset when you called, though.”
I shrug. “Don’t worry about it. In any case, have a nice life, Ethan.”
I slide out of my seat.
“Abby.”
Turning, I meet his eye again. That thing I’d seen sparked there rekindles. “If you stay,” he says, “maybe we can work something out.”
I think about it, then shake my head. “Nah. I’ll just feel like a convenience again. But you’ve, I don’t know, got my blessing to find happiness with someone else. Or something. I bestow that grace upon you as your soulmate,” I joke. Tossing some bills on the bar, I add, “Have a good night.”
I walk to Beth. “Here you go,” I say, handing her the water. “It’s probably safe to go home now without encountering trick-or-treaters.”
“Why’d I let you talk me into this?” she giggles. “I’m going to have such a bad hangover after this.”
“It won’t be that bad. You’re just a lightweight.”
“Is my baby sister an alcoholic?”
“Hardly, but I’ve learned how to handle my liquor. I’ll buy some discounted chocolate tomorrow and we can binge-eat while we watch the Christmas specials.”
“Ugh. It’s Halloween. I don’t want to think about Christmas.”
“Hallmark would say otherwise. Come on. Let’s get going.”
I haul her up. At least she’s feeling good. She wraps an arm around me and demands we sing in the car. Rolling my eyes, I smile and agree.
As I help her into the passenger seat of her car, I say goodnight to a few people also leaving for the night. It makes me glance up at O’Malley’s. It might be one of the last times I go in there, at least for a long time. It sends a twinge of sadness through me, not one that’s caused by Ethan or the what-ifs in life, but just the fact that I’ll miss this little bar. I’ll miss the lake. I’ll miss the bookstore. I’ll even miss my parents, or at least the people they used to be - the people they could be.
It’s not perfect, but I’ll miss Lake Redwood in a way I never missed New York.
But, I decide as I get in the front seat of Beth’s car, it’s for the best. I’m 27 now. I don’t want to cling to people who don’t want me, or fear the future anymore. All I’ve been doing here is tending to my wounds and going right back to clinging to a guy. I need to move on.
But first, I need to take care of my lightweight sister.
Chapter 19
After spending the morning at Beth’s, nursing her hangover (she’s such a baby, oh my gosh) and watching Christmas movies (the tonal dissonance between the holiday twelve hours ago and this gives me whiplash), I shower and throw on some clothes I’d brought over the night before.
First stop is my parents’ house. It’s not fair for me to talk to John without telling them first that I’m leaving. It’s a small town, after all. I mean, I’d be surprised if word hasn’t gotten to them already.
I’d taken my bike up to Beth’s place, so the ride down the hill is a treat. I maybe blow a few stop signs, but I slowed down, at least. It’s not like I need to really be that worried here in Lake Redwood. I’ll need to be more careful in New York, though, that’s for sure. For now, the wind is in my hair, the lake is shimmering, it’s a moderately warm day with hints of sun, and I feel like I’m figuring myself out a little more. Knowing that seeing the doctor will probably help even more gives me hope. Maybe I’m not such a basket case after all.
It’s a much faster ride, obviously, going downhill than up, so I arrive at my parents’ house pretty quickly. Riding up the driveway, I prop up my kickstand and leave the bike near the yard before climbing up the stairs to the front porch.
Before I can use my key or knock, I hear arguing.
Awesome.
Just what I need.
Steeling myself, I push open the door and let it fall shut behind me. The old familiar jitters creep up inside me, but I just take a deep breath and, instead of retreating upstairs, follow the sound.
My parents are in the dining room. The dining room, mind you, has not been used for dining since before I was born. Instead, it is one of our many unofficial storage rooms, the table inaccessible beneath mountains of random boxes and objects and old newspapers. It’s also the home of one of our multiple freezers, because nothing says “first world problems” more than having so much food you literally need multiple places to store it.
So, considering how rarely people use the dining room, even to access said freezer, I’m stunned to see my parents there by the table, giant trash bags in both pairs of hands. My dad drops his, though, to hold up a box and shake it.
“Five men’s shirts in here, and I never even knew they existed!” he cries.
“I told you about them, but you didn’t act like you needed them, so I put them in here till you decided to wear them.”
“If I didn’t need them, you should have returned them!”
She huffs. “Fine. Put it in the Goodwill pile.”
“Hold on. Maybe I can wear it.”
“You can’t. You’ve gained weight.”
He glares at her, rips open the box, and throws a shirt over his face. It gets stuck on his glasses as he tries to
tug it down. Once he pulls it over that, it gets stuck halfway down his torso.
Dad frowns. “Yeah, okay, so maybe that’s not going to work. Don’t rub it in.”
He starts wiggling his way out, pulling it up. Halfway through, he stops. The red shirt completely obscures his face as he tugs. It’s stuck.
Dad swears, tugging harder, but I hear him mumbling about his glasses and stupid shirts. Finally, he lets out an almost scared whine. “I’m stuck,” he mumbles pathetically.
Immediately, Mom turns away from him and shakes with laughter, little snorts seeping out despite her hand clenching her mouth. I haven’t heard her laugh like that in years.
“Don’t just laugh!” Dad barks. “Help me!”
“I’m sorry,” Mom titters, turning back around. “Here. Try pulling it down again.”
He tries, but instead a rip tears through the giggling. I should be recording this.
Dad swears, but as Mom bursts into laughter all over again, he starts chuckling along. “Help me, woman!” he wheezes, but Mom just gasps, “We might as well just cut the whole thing off.”
“Don’t do that,” Dad protests weakly. “We could get some money from this.”
“We’re never getting money for this old thing.”
Are they arguing, or are they working on getting back together? I’m honestly not sure. Either way, I have a feeling I should let them be by themselves. I try to keep my laughter to myself, slinking away.
Up in my bedroom, I survey my things. Somewhere along the line, I’d put away most of them, pushing the boxes that I didn’t need, like kitchen supplies, in the corner. Otherwise, my room had become mine again, not just a temporary haven. My books, including several I received on my birthday, lay piled neatly on my nightstand. My clothes hang in my closet, even separated between summer and winter clothes. My few sets of shoes are below, paired together except for the ones most used, which are kicked off in uncaring heaps.
It feels warm and cozy and mine in a way things haven’t in a long time. I almost don’t want to leave. But I have to. I mean, even if I stayed in Lake Redwood, I wouldn’t want to live with my parents the whole time. Beth could definitely help me find an apartment, but -
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