“I think you’d be surprised,” she said quietly, her gaze on me, and I turned back to her, a nervous sensation thrumming in my chest. “I think sometimes it looks like other people know exactly what they’re doing, liketheyhave all their friends andtheyhave their lives sorted out, liketheyknow what they’re after, and then you feel like you don’t belong. I think Linda is just the same as you are.”
“In that she’s…”
“Alone, surrounded with people. If she feels like the relationship has gone bad, how is she going to turn to all the people who have been cheering on her relationship, excited for them to get together, to move in together, to get married and live happily ever after?” She shook her head. “I think she’s reaching out for people just like you are. If she didn’t care about your opinion, why would she still be so torn up about what you said?”
My chest tightened, a distant sensation settling in—aching and sad in the pit of my stomach, like I was regretting something I hadn’t even done yet. I looked down, hands balled up together on the edge of the table. “Well,” I said, voice small, “doesn’t matter a ton right now.”
“I think it probably matters the most right now,” she said. “If you’re leaving, what’s the risk of trying before you go? And what’s the cost of leaving things unresolved?”
Dammit. Where did she get off, talking like that and trying to make me a better person? Trying to help me feel fulfilled? “Yeah,” I said quietly. “Maybe.”
“It’s what you’ve wanted, isn’t it?” she breathed. “I feel like you’ve just been afraid people aren’t listening. And I can see why. But if there’s something I can do to help bridge that gap…”
“I’d appreciate that, actually,” I managed in a thin voice. “Could you tell her… shit, I don’t know.” I laughed once. “Ask her if she still likes the sweet cherrywood scent.”
She laughed, eyes sparkling. “That’s just like you. Yeah, I’ll do that.”
Just like me. Exactly what everyone knew about me. I wouldn’t even be able to get away from everyone. Even if they didn’t say anything, I’d still feel the need to send them candles for special occasions.
What was I even trying so hard to cut everything off cleanly for? What was the harm with staying in touch with Cat, with Daniela? With Alyssa?
No, I knew exactly what the harm was with staying in touch with Alyssa. The thought of cutting her off altogether was too much to bear right now. But I knew I had to. Just… I’d think about it another time.
I sighed.
“So,” I said, “what’s your job offer about?”
She laughed nervously. “It’s less a job offer and more an opportunity to meet someone who’s looking for an employee. For a job I think I’d like. But it’s here—in Vermont, I mean. Just outside town, actually. It’s with Linda,” she blurted. “The college where she works, I mean.”
Something jumped in my chest, and I sat up taller. “An opening here? Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I mean, no. I’m not sure about anything. I miss Boston, honestly—I didn’t enjoy my life while I was living there,and being with Sawyer was more than I could bear, but the city was so alive. But Paxton Ridge is so alive, too, in its own way. And Daniela, Cat, Linda… everyone here. At this point, I don’t really want to say goodbye,” she said, her voice getting small and crackling at the edges. “Maybe I won’t like it,” she said, speeding up now, talking over herself. “Maybe I’ll miss the city. But I’m happy here for right now, so… what’s the harm in spending some time here? And then moving on if it’s not for me?”
“You should,” I said. Didn’t even think about it, just heard myself say it like I was in a trance. “I think you’d do really well. I mean, the whole town loves you.”
“Well—”
“And you’d be really good at the college, too,” I said. “I know they’re expanding their events operations. I feel like you’re practically made for it.”
She blushed, looking down. “I don’t know about all that.”
“Come on. It’s just event marketing, so it’s not even far from what you did with that marketing degree you mentioned. And who could do it better than someone who effortlessly makes friends with anyone and everyone?” I laughed, and I said what I really, really needed not to. “I mean, hell, you even got through to me. Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to leave myself.”
I said it as a joke, but I knew damn well it wasn’t—that it was this stupid thought jumping to my lips, that maybe I could just stay here and make amends with everyone, apologize to Cat, be friends with Daniela, set things right. Go back to setting up a table full of candles at the market, make sure there was always one or two of my candles to burn for event nights at the Birdhouse. And ask Alyssa to date me, to be my girlfriend. Everything I wasn’t supposed to be saying, and I slipped up and let it out, and I got shut down for it appropriately, when Alyssa paled, a look of panic dashing over her features and back off again just as fast. Not fast enough for me to have missedit. My heart sank, crashed on the floor, and I felt the heat of embarrassment crawling, prickling all over my body.
“Jade,” she said quietly.
“I’m just kidding,” I said. “I can hardly walk it back now. And Daniela being friends with me again doesn’t mean half the Birdhouse doesn’t see me as a public enemy.”
She forced out a wobbly smile. She looked like she wanted to cry, and I’d never kicked myself so hard. “You’d be wonderful,” she said. “People are already moving on. You saw Cat around everybody while we were hiking. I’m sure it would be so much better than you think.”
Did she want me to leave, or not? I couldn’t make sense of the conversation, and I felt dizzy just trying to follow it. “Well, I… I think you might just be biased about me.”
“No way. I’m very smart. And very right.”
“Youarevery smart, but I think you might be both smart and biased.”
She laughed a small, thin laugh, and she stood up. “Still no. But I appreciate you acknowledging how smart I am. I’m going to clean up.”
