“Well, if you’re ever wanting to, you know, let someone stick around, I’m sure Gio could hook you up with one of his friends from work,” Tahnee tells me confidently, her back straightening as she pats the corners of her mouth with a napkin. She and her husband Gio have been married for six years. Every now and then, she tries to set me up with one of his friends.
My response is always a firmno.
“Tahn, no offense, but don’t you constantly tell me how boring his work friends are?” I smirk, sipping on the glass of water Iconsciously poured for myself while my two friends watched me like their lives depended on it.
“Well..yes. But—”
“Is there any part of me that screams ‘yes, hook me up with a boring accountant who expects me to stay in every night and become an obedient housewife’?” I joke, but she doesn’t see the humor in my words. Maybe I just unintentionally described her home life. “I’m kidding Tahnee.” My eyes flick to Margot. She grimaces, but I continue. “We all know I’m not one to settle down. I’m a Rogers girl through and through. Us women are destined to grow old on a porch swing alone, with a bottle of cheap wine, a packet of cigarettes and a deck of cards at the ready.” That paints an absolutely fucking terrifying image in my mind, but it’s one I can’t seem to shake.
My mom still lives in the same trailer park we moved into when my dad died. She’s asked me for money in the past to help her move out and get on her feet, and I gave it to her without a second thought.
I’ve paid for rehab, but she left the facility early.
I gave her money for rent, but still got a call to say it was overdue.
I’ve given her money for groceries but, well…you know what happened next.
She’s still stuck in her same old ways, living in the same place I happily moved out of the first second I could.
While I don’t owe her a good life, I want one for her.
I want her to hold a steady job with a consistent income so she could put a roof over her head that doesn’t leak every storm. A place that doesn’t have rats huddling in the corners, searching through the empty food wrappers that she leaves on the ground.
Then there're the times I’ve found her in my apartment with a strange, naked man, ass up in my bedroom. I wish she’d let me buy her an apartment—in a totally different country.
“Well, then. May the next three months in a tiny, beach-free town bring you countless mystery men, lots of magical sex that leaves you pining, yet running away, all at the same time,” Margot says, raising her glass for the three of us to cheer.
“Here, here!”
We spend the next few hours talking about work, Cassandra’s wedding, and Margot’s plan to take over while Tahnee and I are away. I wouldn’t be able to trust my salon and my clients in the hands of anybody else.
I do have a week off during the summer, and I plan on using that time to come back home to check on things, but I also don’t want Margot to feel like I don’t trust her.
It would purely be to catch up on what I’ve missed and see if she needs anything from me.
“It’s getting late,” I say, standing from my chair, and pushing it out with the back of my thighs. “Are you girls alright to get home?” I ask them as they rise from their seats. I watch as they collect their purses and coats that hang over the back rests. Summer is only weeks away, but the breeze at night near the beach is brisk.
I’m used to it, though. I like the way the chill feels on my bare skin.
“I’ve just ordered us a car,” Tahnee tells me, looking at Margot before they each lean in to give me a quick hug. One work day ends, and a new one begins, just like that. “You sure you’re alright to walk?” she asks.
I nod with a soft smile as we head for the door. “I’m basically around the corner.”
After saying our goodbyes and seeing them get into their cab, I cross the street, heading back to my apartment half a block away, purse clutched to my stomach. My keys are gripped between my knuckles as a makeshift weapon ready if need be, but then I hear‘Snow,’ shouted from behind me.
Snow.
Of all things.
I won’t lie. My steps falter slightly, but I don’t turn around to see the face of the man who’s blurted out a nickname I was given so recently.
A random nickname that the love of your life for the night and morning happened to give you,my brain tries to tell me, begging me to turn around. But it’s not possible, right?
Snowis just a word. It couldn’t possibly be him…could it?
I shake my head, clutching my keys so tight that my nails dig into my palms.
In my mind, I have two options.
