Sarah’s phone vibrated in her hand. Glancing down, she saw Beth’s name on her screen.
Beth 8:23 PM
Scratch that. I won’t be on the ferry later tonight. Got stood up, on my way home now. Catch up sometime this week? Hope your date’s going well.
Sarah’s pulse quickened. Re-reading Beth’s text, excitement rose in her chest the way it had started doing again whenever she and Beth talked. “Actually, on second thought, can you add an order of the lavender mochi to go?” She smiled, taking her credit card back, sliding it snugly into her wallet.
In record time, Sarah went to the bathroom and returned to her table to inform her date that she had to go, blaming it on a sudden onset of fictional StanCorp business. She knew it was an asshole thing to do. She stopped only to grab her to-go order from the bar before slipping out of the restaurant and into the preordered car.
Her fingers moved quickly across her phone screen, firing off a text to Nell.
Sarah 8:31 PM
It’s time to fire Janet Starr—no more dates. I’m done. Thanks, but no thanks.
She grinned as Nell’s name instantly appeared on her screen.
“Be more specific,” Nell said flatly. Sarah knew she was multi-tasking. Given the time difference, they were entering peak Nell working hours.
“I’m done. I’m taking myself off the market. I need clarity from Beth. I need to know what’s going on there, and I’m either about to do something that gets me exactly what I want, or something incredibly stupid that I’ll regret.” Her voice was sharp, decisive in a way that surprised even herself. It wasn’t off-putting; it was the sound of her setting her mind to something.
“You are SarahfuckingGallagher, you don’t have regrets,” Nell reminded her. “You make choices, and you live with those outcomes.”
“Damn right,” Sarah agreed, hanging up the phone. Leave it to Nell to give her the most efficient pep talk using the fewest words possible.
The car dropped her off directly in front of the ferry terminal. She moved quickly up the steps, hurrying to the boarding area. She was cutting it close, the last call for passengers ringing through the terminal at exactly the moment she scanned her pass. Sarah slowed, taking a moment to collect her breath and, more importantly, her thoughts. Beth was on that boat, and they were finally going to talk the way they should have months ago when all of these feelings between them began bubbling to the surface again.
She scanned the rows of vinyl booths and seating as she moved through the boat’s interior cabin, looking for the familiar outline of Beth. But she couldn’t locate her. Sarah’s heart sank as she doubled back, confident that she had missed Beth on her first pass through.
Her heels clicked along the laminate floors that were oddly reminiscent of the art classroom she and Beth had met in so many years ago. She looked for any sign of her, but again, there weren’t any.
Sarah quickly pulled her phone from her pocket, rereading Beth’s last text. Given the time Beth had sent the text and the ferry schedule, Sarah had assumed she meant she would be on this ferry home, giving Sarah time to catch up to her.
But apparently she had been wrong.
She inhaled deeply, a wave of disappointment settling over her, releasing in the form of a single sigh.
“Sarah?” a quiet but achingly familiar voice whispered over her shoulder. Sarah whipped around to find Beth standing outside the women’s restroom, eyebrows raised in shock, dark peacoat hanging open. “What are you doing here?”
She held out the bag from the restaurant as if that perfectly explained her presence. “I, uh, I brought you dessert.”
The ambient sound of life going on around her persisted, but in that moment, she had attention only for Beth standing in front of her. Beth, in shock, looked from the bag in her hand back to Sarah, still confused.
Sarah dropped her arm, realizing that it had been a few long moments since she had been holding out the bag without Beth taking it from her.
“Excuse me, dear,” a woman in her seventies said, motioning to Beth, who was still standing directly in front of the door to the women’s restroom where Sarah had literally stopped her in her tracks. “I just need to scoot by you.”
“Oh—yes, sorry.” Beth gracefully stepped to the side so the woman could pass before meeting Sarah’s eye again. “We should talk.”
Sarah nodded, her stomach twisting as she followed Beth through the ferry in search of a secluded place, or as secluded as they could be on public transit. Beth found them a small booth in the vessel’s café area. The café, currently closed, afforded them a quiet, mostly empty space to have their conversation. Sarah slid into the seat directly across from Beth, putting the to-go bag on the table between them.
“Can I?” Beth asked, already reaching for the bag. Sarah nodded, watching Beth’s fingers work the ties of the bag, opening it and removing the contents, placing them on the table.
“Lavender mochi,” Sarah said quickly, again as if that explained everything.
“And you got this just for me?”
Sarah nodded, watching the way Beth’s eyelashes fluttered, drawing her eyes up—that damn perfect shade of blue connecting with hers. There had been a point in their lives where Sarah could say with high certainty that she could accuratelypredict every one of Beth’s needs, wants, and desires. Knowing Beth like that had been a privilege, one she sadly had taken advantage of over the years, using it as a crutch to stop having actual conversations with her.
