“That’s not what girl dinner means, Aunt Pip,” Mabel says.
We’re all here.
Mabel and Ginny and Pip and Samantha and Olivia and Dori and Elizabeth and Heath and Lavender and me, all gathered around the big table in the center of the kitchen.
Tonight’s menu is tacos and margaritas—orange soda for Heath and Lav—and flan for dessert.
Elizabeth’s favorites.
Ginny clinks margarita glasses with her. “We’ll miss you, but we’re also so excited for you.”
“Send us updates,” Olivia says.
“And also know it’s okay if you don’t,” Mabel adds. She added Elizabeth’s picture to the wall of shame earlier today.
Can’t lie. I cried a little when I saw it.
Going on the wall—it means you’re remembered. You’ve been here and you’ve gone on to the next part of your life, but you’re not here anymore.
“I’ll keep in touch.” Elizabeth draws a cross over her heart. “Being here with you after that stupid video— You’ve—you’ve changed my life, and I will—” She gulps and wipes her eyes, her voice dropping softer and softer. “I will never forget your kindness. You gave me exactly what I needed when I didn’t even realize I needed it.”
My eyes get hot too. I’m across the table from her, so I can’t hug her, but Samantha and Dori are both leaning in from either side of her while other sniffles go up around the room.
Heath glances at me again.
His eyes are a little shiny too.
I love him so much.
I’d tell myself to slow down, but how can I?
I’ve lived in his house for a month. That’s a long time to pretend to be someone you’re not, and who he is…who he is takes my breath away.
I’m sniffling too, but it’s not just about Elizabeth leaving.
It’s about how unexpectedly happy I am here, mingled with that fear that I can’t shake that this could all be temporary.
That Heath really won’t ever want to date me for real.
That the bank will foreclose on the winery.
That something else will somehow go wrong faster than I’m ready to handle another of life’s plot twists.
Lav’s squinting at all of us in turn. “What’s wrong with everyone?”
“They hate goodbyes,” Pip tells her. “Sappy young people.”
“I’m a young people.”
“You’re still smart.”
Mabel’s dry-eyed as she sends Pip an amused look, but I wonder if she just hides her emotions better than the rest of us.
Or she’s really not a crier.
Not everyone is a crier.
“Emotions don’t make you dumb, Pip,” Samantha says.
