“This is a big deal,” Ramona said.
April didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Ramona didn’t know just how big of a deal everything was in her life right now. April hadn’t been very forthcoming about Wonderlust, about her mortgage struggles, renting out her house. And she definitely hadn’ttold Ramona aboutlivingat Cloverwild with Daphne. Ramona thought she’d simply taken a fun summer job and that Mac was handling things at the shop. The truth was embarrassing, for one—April Evans, business entrepreneur and failure. Of course, she’d tell Ramona everything eventually, but on the phone while her heart felt like a tender piece of meat stuck in her chest at a ritzy party was not the moment.
“I’ll live,” April said, wanting to shut down the conversation as soon as possible. “Plus, I think you’re right. She seems terrified of me.”
Ramona exhaled. “You’re not being very nice, are you?”
April felt herself flinch. “Should I be?”
“Well…I don’t know. I’m just saying, you don’t know her situation. Are her and Elena even together?”
“Of course they are.”
“Then why is she at Cloverwild? Why is she a mess, as you say?”
Goddamn Libras. April’s head swam with all Ramona’s balanced logic. She loved her best friend. Would lie down on a train track for her. But sometimes, she swore to the goddess, she simply wanted Ramona to lose her shit along with her.
“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” April said. “Whose side are you on?”
“Yours,” Ramona said. “Always yours. I just think…she’s one of us. She’s queer, she’s an artist.”
“So wasElena.”
“I know, but she’s not Elena. And it’s been three years. There’s no need to hate her so vehemently without knowing all the facts first.”
“And if I get thefacts, am I allowed to hate her then, Mom?”
Silence on the other end.
April closed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Ramona said. “I know this is hard.”
“I said I’ll live.”
“No, I mean…” Ramona trailed off for a second. “I miss you, Apes.”
April’s eyes stung, her throat achy and tight. “I miss you too.”
In the background, April heard Dylan say something.
“Listen,” Ramona said, sighing. “I—”
“You’ve got to go,” April said.
“Yeah. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You’ve got a life. So do I.”
This last part was a stretch; April’slifewas practically in shambles, but she didn’t want Ramona to worry.
“Have fun at the premiere,” she said, and then ended the call once Ramona said a far-too-gentle goodbye. April dropped her phone into her pocket, the party spinning all around her, everyone so beautiful and smiling. She turned to face the large window, the lake’s wide swath outside, and her shoulders relaxed. She’d always loved the water, loved the simple sight of it, its constancy and easy beauty.
“April?”
April glanced to her side, where a woman had stepped up next to her. She was in her midforties and beautiful, with dark brown skin and dark curls that spiraled past her shoulders. She wore a white keyhole cocktail dress that fell past her knees, her bare arms glowing under the amber lights. She held two sparkling glasses of champagne.
“I thought that was you,” she said, a London accent curling around her words as she held out one of the glasses.
