Mom scoffs. “I was nice to him, sure. I pretended to like him because I didn’t want you persuaded by my opinion, but really? All of this drama over a boy who wears designer sneakers?”
In another universe in which tonight’s events did not unfold, the sentence would make me laugh. But tonight is not that night, and Rose has already moved on to something else.
“And you invited Thomas tonight? What did you think that woulddo? Like I wasn’t nervous enough already? Why do you think you can interfere in my life like that? You’re the child, Lily. Not the parent.”
I’ve never heard her speak like this. Even when I was a teen with raging hormones, we never fought. Sure, we bickered here and there. But not like this. The road in front of us is narrowing, the trees curving around the car like hands reaching out at us, grabbing.
“So, what?” I yell back through my sobs. “I made a mistake, and now you’re going to ditch me like you ditched Lottie. You abandoned the bucket list because she wasn’t perfect. Now you’re doing the same to me.”
I know my words are cruel, but I sling them at her anyway, wanting to feel the full impact.
Her mouth tightens. “That’s not fair. You know, last week one of my patients was a single mother of three who was just diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. I sat with her, and held her as she sobbed into my shoulder, because she doesn’t know who is going to take care of her children when she dies. The youngest is only six.”
I cover my mouth, horrified. Something solid is stuck in my windpipe, making it difficult to swallow.
“That’s why tonight was so important to me, Lily. For them. To raise enough money to keep supporting community programs that are quite literally saving lives. Or, at the very least, sitting with people in their grief at the hardest points of their lives. I know I put on a happy face, but it is hard work.”
The indicators beep as she pulls up to the cottage, headlights lighting up the kitchen. I see the reading nook with its soft, tan cushions. It’s almost like Lottie’s shadow is still visible.
We sit there, neither of us moving.
It reminds me of all the times in my childhood when we would linger in the car after school, sitting in the driveway, just chatting. I told her everything: which girls were bullies, which boys were gross,which teachers were unfair. Rose listened to it all. She never made me question whether a topic was off-limits. She always made me feel seen, heard, validated. Sometimes, in college, I would call her, and when we ran out of topics to talk about, we would let the line go quiet, cleaning our respective rooms or sending out emails. I could always hear her moving on the other side of the line; every ten or so minutes, one of us adding something we forgot to mention before.
Before she opens the door, Rose reaches out to touch my face. My skin is still tender from where Mary slapped me. “I love you, Lily. It’s just been a long summer. Let’s talk in the morning.”
She puts the car in park, switches off the engine, and walks into the house. It takes me several minutes before I can follow her, ducking from the raindrops that land on my head, harsh and certain as bullets.
Chapter Thirty-ThreeLily
Back in my room, wet from the rain and bone-tired, I’m desperate for distraction, for comfort.
I sit against the hard edge of my bed frame and remember Jade’s text. Because of the exhaustion I feel from the action-packed night, when I check the clock and see it’s only nine, I’m surprised. I decide to give Jade a call, and she picks up on the first ring.
“Lily,” she says immediately. Her voice is chipper and kind. “I’m so happy you called. I miss you.”
It’s the familiarity of her voice, the friendliness and warmth. I’ve missed her this summer, I realize. I’ve missed my best friend.
“Jade, I’m so sorry,” I say. “I’m so sorry I haven’t reached out before this. I was just insecure and being stupid.”
She rushes to jump in. “I could’ve called, too,” she says. “I honestly felt a bit abandoned when you left me with the lease. I was angry, and I let that frustration build instead of being the bigger person. I know you were going through a hard time, and I wished I could’ve been there for you more after you got fired.”
In the background, I hear what sounds like the clinking of pots and pans. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Is now a bad time? It sounds like you’re cooking.”
Jade lets out a short huff, and I picture her rolling her eyes the way she always does. “That’s just Mark,” she says. “He’s cooking very loudly.” In the distance, I hear her boyfriend laugh. “I’ll go into the bedroom for a bit.”
There’s the sound of a door closing and then quiet. “Sorry about that,” says Jade. “Can we be okay again?”
“Of course,” I tell her, relieved at how easy this reconciliation is. Just like it was with Clive—how many things have I avoided out of misplaced fear? “Thank you,” I say. After a few seconds, I ask, “So, Mark’s cooking dinners now?”
Jade giggles. Her laugh has always had a bright, musical quality: girlish. “After you left me with that random subletter—who, by the way, was super messy and gross and always left hair on the shower wall—” I shudder. “Well, it kind of expedited my plan with Mark. I moved into his apartment.”
I can sense the smile in her voice. “Jade, that’s amazing! Congratulations!”
Maybe earlier in the summer, I would have heard this and felt sorry for myself, knowing that if I ever return to the city, our relationship won’t be the same. We’ll never again be roommates. But now, I really am happy for Jade.
“So, what’s new with you?” she asks. I hear the creak of her leaning back on her bed frame. “Catch me up!”
“Well, for starters, I instigated a six-person fistfight tonight. Henry is engaged, and his fiancée wants me dead. I met a really great guy but kind of blew it. My dad and I maybe reconciled. I yelled at my old boss, Clive. My mom’s long-lost love ended up renting out the other half of our cottage, and I’ve been on a mission to set themup all summer.” I’m breathless when I’m finished. “Oh, and a really creepy psychic lady told me that my soulmate’s name starts with the letterH. Where do you want to start?”
