“And it’s sort of awful to be the one who’s a mess all the time. I want to be the one who knows exactly what to say and can pull off a full-length, camel-hair coat.”
“What?”
“I want to be the one who has her shit together.”
Lauren sniffs and I know she’s crying too. “That may be the first honest thing I've heard come out of your mouth since Isaac died.”
We both sniffle and I hear Lauren blow her nose. “Actually, this conversation is a relief in a way, because I was starting to give up hope."
I glance at the clock, needing to think of something else before my brain explodes. “It’s a little after eight.”
“Jane Bennett has probably ridden to Netherfield in the rain already. The dumb twat.”
I laugh a little, loving Lauren for trying to make everything okay again. Then, I let out a slow, shaky breath. "I’ll understand if you don't want to watch it with me. If I’m being honest, I don't know if I want to watch it with you either."
"In that case, let’s do it anyway."
We sit on the line for the next hour, neither of us saying anything. We don't say our favorite lines along with the TV, like we normally do. We don't make fun of Elizabeth's mother. But we don't hang up either. My mind rolls through the last two years of my life as I begin to process Lauren's accusations. When the closing credits roll, I shut off my TV and I can hear that she's done the same. Unable to think of anything intelligent to say, I ask her if she’s still there.
"Yes,” she says, the hurt between us returning. “Look, you’ve been through so much. I can’t even imagine what it’s been like. And I don't want to be hard on you. And I certainly don't want to ruin something we should be celebrating. You’re writing again and that’s huge and wonderful and shiny, and good for you."
"You're not the one that ruined it."
"How about we call this one a draw?”
“You’re too easy on me.”
“That’s because things are about to get incredibly hard for you. Here's the thing, you've got a choice to make. You can start being honest in your life—and obviously I want you to do that—”
“—Iwant me to do that, too.”
“Good. But, go in knowing that being honest makes you vulnerable, and I know how you feel about being vulnerable. And I also understand why. So, if your honesty tonight turns out to be a one-off, it's okay. I'll understand. I'll be here for you either way."
Tears spring from my eyes and I whisper, “Thanks. Sorry I’ve been such an ass.”
“That’s okay. Nobody’s perfect, not even me in my camel-hair coat. Just please let me know which way you decide to go because it’s only fair.”
“Yup, I will. I should let you get some sleep. We’ve been talking about my shit for years now.”
“I’m tired, but I’m not done.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. Then I say, “Hugs and shit.” I don’t dare to breathe while I wait for her answer.
“Hugs and shit back.”
I let out a sigh of relief, then lower my phone to hang up, but change my mind. “Lauren?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s going to be really hard, isn’t it? To be honest, I don’t know if I can do it.”
“That’s a little ironic, no?”
I laugh through my tears. “Very.”
“You’re right. It won’t be easy, but it will be so much better for you,” she says, and I find myself wishing she were here so I could hug her for real. “There’s this whole amazing world waiting for you. You just have to be willing to get real with people and open yourself up to it.”
“Do you promise?”
