“You know, I almost worked here too,” she says. “My brother was a barista here and was supposed to refer me, but he quit before I was old enough to work.”
“Your brother? Would I know him?”
“I don’t know. Marcus?”
Marcus, Marcus, Marcus…I rack my brain, twisting my chair side to side. I forgot these things could spin. “I don’t recognize the name,” I finally say with a shrug. “Must’ve been before my time.”
“Yeah, he’s older,” Ellie says. “He was a senior when we moved here.”
“You moved during his last year of high school? Ouch.”
“Brutal, right? And yet he still managed to land a cool job, popular friends, and graduate top of his class.” Her voice has the tiniest bit of bite to it, but her face doesn’t show it.
“Where is he now?”
“San Francisco,” she says, her tone instantly bored. “He’s an engineer, and he’s engaged to a corporate litigation lawyer.”
My laugh comes out louder than intended. “Oh, so they’ve gotmoneymoney.”
“Yeah. My parents are thrilled. And Mom definitely plays favorites. I think she’s spending more on just their reception than they’re contributing to my college tuition.”
“Your parents are bankrolling the wedding?” Between a corporate attorney and some kind of engineer, I can’t imagine this couple couldn’t foot their own bill.
“Yeah, both of my grandparents on my mom’s side passed away this summer,” Ellie explains, “so Mom inherited quite a bit.”
“Ah.” I look down at my shoes, eyeing a new streak of dirt along the laces. Probably from trying to jump over those garden beds. “I’m sorry,” I finally say.
“It’s okay. They were in their nineties. It’s a shame they couldn’t make it another year to see Marcus get married, but they’d be happy knowing that’s where their money was going.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. Thank God I haven’t ruined the evening by taking us to dead grandparent territory. I look back up from my shoes. “What about you?”
Ellie’s lips part an inch. “What about me?”
“Is there enough money to help pay for your wedding too?”
She sputters a laugh. “After witnessing this planning process, I’m not sure I want a wedding. But I’m planning on getting my master’s, so I’m hoping Mom and Dad will let me put the money toward that.”
“That’s cool, what in?”
“Art therapy.”
“A way worthier cause than a party,” I point out.
“Maybe if I was smart like Marcus,” she says, and I can hear the bite creeping back into her tone. “But who knows. I haven’t mentioned it to my parents yet.”
“Why not?”
“I was planning to bring it up in a few weeks, after acceptance letters go out.” Her lips fuse together, flattening into a line. “But everything sort of went on the back burner after the breakup.”
And I’ve steered us back into yet another bummer. Maybe next we can talk about her dead pets or 9/11. I fold one leg over my knee in a figure four, careful not to let my dirty laces touchthe upholstery. “The breakup with the business major,” I remember aloud. As long as we’re here, we might as well talk about it. “When did that happen?”
Ellie’s eyes dip to the floor. “Three weeks ago.”
“And how long were you together?”
“Almost a year.”
“Woof,” I say.
