“Yay,” Madison said.
Grace settled in next to Madison on the couch. “Does your arm hurt still?”
“A little. But Mommy gives me happy pills to make it better,” Madison said.
“Happy pills?” Grace laughed as she unzipped her backpack. “Aren’t you happy enough?”
“I am very happy most of the time,” Madison said, nodding her head and smiling. “But my arm hurts without the pills.”
“Tell me everything,” Grace said. “What was it like to go the hospital?”
Madison started chattering away about the entire experience, while Grace painted her nails. Trevor plopped down under the coffee table, with just his tail sticking out.
Gillian and I exchanged a glance. “You doing okay?” Gillian asked me.
“Much better now that she’s home,” I said. “It was kind of an ordeal.”
“You poor thing. Come on, let’s go meet the others. I bet you could use a glass of wine and one of The Pelican burgers.”
“That sounds really good,” I said.
Gillian squeezed my arm. “Kids are set. Let’s go.”
“Grace, call or text if you need anything,” I said. “We’re only a few minutes away.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.” Grace looked over at me, her long blonde hair falling over her cheek.
I grabbed my coat as Robbie appeared from his room, physics book tucked under his arm.
“Robbie, Grace is here,” Madison said, as if he couldn’t see that for himself. “And she brought polish for my nails.”
Robbie made a face. “That stuff smells awful.”
“It smells fancy,” Madison said. “Like me.”
“I don’t think that’s what fancy smells like.” Robbie dropped onto the other end of the sofa, cracking open his book.
Gillian and I left as the debate started about whether fancy had a smell and, if so, what did it smell like. We closed the door to Madison declaring that fancy smelled like pink cotton candy.
We headed down the back stairs to the alley. I breathed in the cool, damp October air, catching scents of salt and eucalyptus and woodsmoke. The sky had gone that deep purple twilight that only happened this time of year, when the days got short fast. Streetlights flickered on one by one as we walked. A few shop windows still glowed along the street, but most had closed for the evening.
“So,” Gillian said. “You’d tell me if you needed money for the hospital bills, right?”
“Wrong.”
“Alex and I have the means, and we want to help.” She glanced at me sideways. “You should let us.”
Gillian had done fine before she married Alex, running her dance studio here in town, but now she was legit wealthy. Her husband had retired from high tech a billionaire. It must be nice. Not that I was jealous. No one was happier for Gillian than me. But sometimes, every so often, a little ugly voice would nag at me.Don’t you wish you had what she had?
“That’s the first step to ruining a friendship,” I said. “Never mix love and money.”
“You’re the most stubborn person ever,” Gillian said.
“I know.” Proud too. I hated being the poor one in our friend group. Seraphina was a rich and famous romance author. Delphine had inherited money when her husband died and ran a local art gallery in addition to making pottery, which sold well. Lila’s new husband, Vance Prescott, had made a small fortunewhen he sold the wine app he’d created while working as a sommelier in Paris. Which left only me, broke in a lonely bed meant for two.
“I thought about calling my parents, but I just can’t,” I said. I heard the edge in my own voice and softened it. “My father would write a check tomorrow, but it would come at a cost. They’d insist I come home. Admit they were right that I couldn’t make it on my own.” I pulled my coat tighter. “They want me back under their roof where they can manage my life because they think they know so much better than I do about what my kids need. Every time I think about calling, I hear my mother’s voice telling me I threw away a perfectly good marriage. She doesn’t believe in divorce. Blamed me for everything, even though it was Jeff who let me down, not the other way around.” I exhaled. “I’m going to do everything I can to avoid asking for help.”
“You ask me first, okay?” Gillian said.
