Marianne smacks her hand down on the table dramatically.
“You’re impossible! If you refuse to go on this trip, you’re basically throwing a moldy burrito in the face of the universe.”
“After the month I’ve had,” I sigh. “That sounds like just the kind of revenge I’d like to exact.”
Marianne gasps, looking up to my cottage cheese ceiling.
“She didn’t mean it,” she whispers, holding her hands in prayer. I glare at her. Mariannelovesto talk about the universe like it’s some sentient being instead of a coincidental conglomeration of chaos.
“Stella, I’m going to level with you. As life shattering as this event has been for you, people lose their jobs all the time. And you haven’t even been fired—it’s a suspension! Your pity party time has expired. If you don’t get your ass out of this apartment pronto, I’m going to have to carry you. Do youwantto put that on a 5’2 pregnant lady? Huh?”
Even now, I can feel myself getting nauseous just thinking about my meeting with Dr. Rivera. Outside of work, I have no hobbies, no passions—I don’t evenrememberthe last time I picked up a paintbrush. Without my fellowship, all I have to my name is a shoebox studio and two ferns in the kitchen whose crispy fronds look like Halloween decorations.
Marianne snaps her fingers at me to bring me back to reality.
“Earth to Stella! Are you even listening to me?”
“Sorry,” I say sheepishly. “Yes.”
“You need to go on this trip, babe. Not just because it will make your sister happy, or because your future brother-in-law probably has Drake’s contact saved in his phone…”
“Mer—”
“But because maybe, just maybe, you got let go for areason.”
“I did,” I remind her. “I got let go because I let my breakup turn me into a human mud puddle.”
“No,” she howls in frustration, “I mean like a reason from the universe! What if all this is telling you to stop working away your life and actually start living it?”
She grabs my hands, squeezing so tightly I almost screech. Some of her long, red hair falls onto my arm as she leans in.
“Babygirl, you’ve been busting your ass as long as I’ve known you. Even if you don’t want it, you deserve a break. Howdo you expect anything good to find you if you’re hiding from it under all these blankets?”
I flatten my eyebrows. If I’m being honest with myself, it’s not just the Warrens I’m worried about. It’s a family vacationperiod.Growing up, it was just me, Jules and Dad: my dad’s parents never emigrated from Sweden, and my mom left a few years after Jules was born. Since Dad passed away nine years ago, my sister and I have been all each other have.
Until now.
Jules is moving on with her life, into a world I could never hope to fit into, and I’m one bad week away from using my masters degree as toilet paper.
“Oh. My. God.” A smile spreads across Marianne’s face like syrup on a pancake. “I have an idea.”
I let out an exhausted breath. “If you try to bribe me with baby naming rights again?—“
“No, no, no. And it was just hermiddlename.”
Marianne smacks her fingers on the coffee table in a tiny drum roll before announcing, “Will and I will go with you.”
I snort.
“I can’t invite you on my sister’s family vacation, Mer.”
“Not the vacation,” she assures me, “To Fiji! Will’s airline flies there—it’s been far too long since we’ve capitalized on his pilot perks.”
It can’t say I’m surprised by her harebrained plan. Like my sister, Marianne is one of those girls that every guy on dating apps claims to be looking for: spontaneous, easily pleased, and always up for an adventure. But this idea, like her senior year scheme to sneak onto one of the Thanksgiving parade turkey floats, has gone too far.
“You can’t justgoto Fiji,” I try to tell her. “They’re leaving on Monday.”
“Why not? It’s practically free, I can do my job from anywhere, and I’ve been trying to convince Will to go on ababymoon for ages! We could chauffeur you to your trip and spend a few days in paradise. I’dkillto escape this cold before I’m stuck here changing diapers til the end of time.”
