Jade
Things in life had a way of coming full circle. It was late, and I was feeling sick, and I felt like I just needed a little breath of fresh air, so I trudged across the house and out the back door, onto the back deck, where I let out a startled scream at the sight of a person there—a figure shadowed against the darkness behind the house, watching me—and I struck out without meaning to, and in the end, I backhanded Cat across the face.
“Ow, shit,” she said, holding her cheek. My heart was going a mile a minute, and I hunched over myself, snapping at her.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Cat, what the hell are you doing here?”
“What?”
“I… shit.” I unclasped my hands from my body, signing. “What are you doing on my deck at midnight?”
“Checking in on you,” she said, suddenly beaming again, standing up taller. She still nursed her cheek, though. “You really hit hard.”
“Just… be glad I’m not wearing any rings.”
“Are you kidding? I got the slap and missed out on the sexy scar. That’s just lose-lose.”
“Are you out of your mind? What do you mean, you’re checking in on me?”
She hugged me. It was out of nowhere, really—I mean, this whole thing was—and for a second, I stood awkwardly with my hands up, not sure what to do with them, until she said, “You’re really going, huh?”
I relaxed, slowly, letting myself have it—hugged her and let the thick, ugly tension in my stomach go slack, and I nodded against her.
“You’ve probably already found something, haven’t you?”
I hesitated before, again, slowly, I nodded. I didn’t want to have to tell her about it, but this was the way I should have done it from the beginning. Should have told everyone how I was feeling, what I was considering. Sure, Cat would have tried to convince me to stay. Maybe some other people, too. Didn’t that just mean I was loved?
Dammit, I was a fucking idiot.
Cat squeezed me tighter. “I know this has been messy, but… please stay in touch, okay? I really value your friendship. And I’ll worry about you off somewhere else without people to talk to!”
I sighed, stepping back from the hug to sign. “You know me. I’m a hermit.”
“You’re not a hermit,” she laughed, wiping her eyes. The faint shimmer of tears there against the low lights on the back of my house, crying the tears we should have cried together, a while ago, when all of this started. “You go to parties and make gifts for your friends and keep track of everyone’s birthdays so you can celebrate them. You went out of your way to stick up for me when things got rough. You’re one of the kindest people I know. You’re just a bit grumpy about it.”
Alyssa said the same thing, more or less. Maybe I was due for a reckoning. I was coming up on thirty years old, and wasn’tthe point of your twenties to figure out who you are? “I hate to tell you that you’re right,” I said. “You’ll be rubbing it in my face forever.”
She grinned, wiping her eyes again. “You’re damn right I will. Where are you going?”
Ugh, I felt sick even saying it. “Just got a call back a couple hours ago, actually,” I said, not quite looking at her. “An opening in San Antonio.”
“San Antonio, Texas? God, that’s so far away. Going to be a road trip to come see you.”
“Cat…”
“This is why you have to call all the time, okay? I miss hearing your voice.”
“Uh-huh, yeah, hearing my voice, that thing you do.” I shook my head, a sad smile on the corners of my lips. “I will. You and Daniela. And anyone else who wants to hear my voice. Hell, maybe randomly video call me and put me up on the big screen in the Birdhouse, without telling me you’re doing it. That feels like something you’d do.”
She laughed. “I’m gonna miss you.”
“Yeah. You too. I’m glad you and Daniela are so good.”
“Force to be reckoned with in the kitchen together,” she laughed. “She’s cooking, I’m baking… next time you visit Vermont, we’ll have a whole spread for you. Tag-teaming you in the kitchen.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“We’re going to Burlington again next weekend. Are you, uh… are you gonna be gone by then?”
