“I’m here,” I finally manage to squeeze out past the lump of emotions in my throat. “I really gave it my all.”
“We know and we loved you. Your experience, your presence, your humor, it’s exactly what we’re looking for. You’re going to be an incredible addition to the team.”
I blink back tears.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “Thank you so much.”
“You’ll be receiving an email in the next few days with details about your start day, hours for the week, and an orientation. Do you have any questions I can answer for you?”
Viv walks in mid-call, sees my face, and mouths, “Well?”
I nod, unable to speak.
She lets out a whoop loud enough to shake the spice rack.
Chapter Twenty-Four
There’s glitter on the ceiling.
How it got there, I don’t know. But it shimmers at me like a disco ball as I teeter on a chair with a roll of crepe paper in one hand and a half-empty glass of kombucha in the other. I’m not going to lie… It’s grown on me, but I can’t let Viv know that. If I admit to it, I won’t have any excuse not to have her drag me off to an early morning goat yoga class.
Somewhere behind me, Viv is arguing with Harper about whether the balloon arch is “whimsically festive” or “a desperate attempt to outrun mortality with latex.”
Marin is laughing, actually laughing, which feels like a minor miracle considering how few times I’ve heard her let go and let a smile slip through her tough exterior the past few months.
“It looks great, Mom!” Harper’s arms are crossed, and her critical eye is scanning the living room like she’s judging a baking competition and I’m the sad, undercooked scone. “I think between the backyard and the abundance of glitter and the karaoke machine, it’s going to be the party of the year.”
I add another piece of tape to the balloon arch. “Are you only saying that so I don’t cry?”
She shrugs. “Yeah, but also it looks great. Like, impressively not tragic.”
I hop down from the chair and nearly take out the huge “50th” piñata hanging from my ceiling fan with my face.
“Your glue gun work is really improving.” Viv nods toward the banner that Marin finished hanging. “You're only mildly hazardous to yourself and others now.” Then she side eyes my mostly empty glass of kombucha. “Dare I say you liked the cranberry flavor?”
I try to shove the glass behind my back. “I admit nothing.”
Marin flops dramatically onto the couch, giggling like a teenager as she pulls her now ever-present dinging phone out of her pocket.
“So, Marin, three dates in three days. Things must be going well?” I flop down on the armchair beside her.
“When are we going to get the details of what’s happening with Mr. Floss Boss?” Viv wiggles onto the end of the couch, shuffling so her lap’s under Marin’s feet.
Marin throws a pillow over her face like she’s completed a triathlon. “It’s been good? Weird? He told me I have good looking tonsils,” Marin mumbles from under the pillow. “Which was surprisingly sexier than one might think because the kiss that followed was perfection.”
Viv cackles. “Honestly, I’d take nice tonsils. Some guy at the grocery store told me I had ‘heart stopping earlobes.’”
“Resilient enamel? Are we dating or getting a dental cleaning?” Harper raises an eyebrow and tosses a streamer roll at Marin.
“But you’re into him?” Viv kicks her feet up on the coffee table, brushing aside the pile of “50th” napkins.
“He’s… nice. Predictable. Comfortably boring.” Marin pulls the pillow off her face and sets it on her lap, her expression suddenly less amused and more thoughtful. “But, well, he’s not just boring.” Her voice is soft, almost as though she’s talking to herself. “I mean, he is. He’s the human equivalent of a Subaru, no offense, Birdie. But the other night, he kissed me and I just—” She pauses, blinking. “I felt something. Like my body remembered I was allowed to feel good again. That I’m still in here.”
Viv leans forward, suddenly very sober. “Marin.”
She nods. “I know. It sounds dumb. But it’s been years since I felt that, even before the accident. There was so much silence in my marriage. Not fighting. Not closeness. Just this growing echo of nothing.”
Viv reaches out and taps Marin’s shin with her hand. “It’s not dumb. It’s huge. Good-for-you huge.”
