“Um.” The hostess pokes her head past the curtain. “Your table is ready.”
Jenny swats my arm.
At our favorite corner table, sharing a bottle of warm sake, Jenny unloads about her in-laws. They don’t understand her early retirement plans. Ben is fully supportive, but his parents are convinced they’re throwing away opportunities.
“I feel like we’ve had this conversation before,” she says. “How do they not see me throwing away opportunities with nonstop travel at a soul-sucking job? Wyatt’s plays. Date nights with Ben.”
“And Bestie,” I add. “Who cares what they think?”
“That doesn’t work with in-laws. Not Korean ones.” She pours more sake. “I miss this. Us. Not recording a podcast, just hanging out.”
“I missedthis,” I say, swishing a thin slice of pork through the broth between us. “Shabu. Shabu.”
Jenny finishes the last edamame, which makes me think of Kael.
“Kael’s gram—she’s basically the woman who raised him,” I say.
“I know Gram.”
“Apparently years ago she went to a party where they served edamame, but she’d never had it before. Spent the whole night slurping down the empty pods, trying to be polite. She told Kael later she didn’t understand why anybody liked them.” I gesture to our pile of shells. “He’s like, ‘The bean’s pretty much a vessel for salt,’ and she goes, ‘What bean? What salt?’”
Jenny’s jaw drops. “Ewww.” She shudders. “Disgusting.”
“So gross.” I’m grinning anyway. I’ve heard enough Gram stories that it feels like I’ve known her for years instead of weeks.
“And now we talk about Kael,” Jenny says, smiling in a way that makes me look down into my sake. “You two are moving fast.”
“He’s amazing.”
“Didn’t say he wasn’t amazing. I said you’re moving fast.”
“It’s been six weeks since the fire.” Hearing it out loud makes me wonder who I’m trying to convince. “Okay, that’s fast. Do you think it’s too fast?”
Jenny grabs my hand. “You know, if you told me to leave Ben, we’d stop being friends.”
“Ben is the man. I would never.”
“He is the man.” She squeezes my fingers. “But my point is, best friend advice is sacred… it’s just not supposed to outrank your own gut. If I told you to leave Kael and you thought I was wrong, what would you say?”
“Are you saying I should leave him?” The question comes out hot as my stomach twists.
“No. That’s not what I’m saying.” She sighs. “I’m saying I love you, and I don’t even listen to everything you say. Someday, you’ll have someone who trumps me.”
My stomach stays tight. “So it’s too fast, but it’s my decision?”
She winces. “No. I mean—yes, it’s your decision. And also, maybe it is too fast. I suck at this.” She blows out a breath. “Kael is wonderful. Is moving in together six weeks after meeting too fast? Maybe. It might be. But it’s also clearly not stopping you. You’re happy. He makes you happy. And if that means you break a few rules…” She raises her glass. “I say, let’s hear it for the boy.”
She doesn’t even know the half of it. I’m well past wondering if it’s too fast to move in. It’s too fast to feel like I know him the way I think I do: where he’s left his glasses when he loses them, how his eyes light up when I say his name when we’re together, the thing I’d say if I weren’t scared he’d think it’s too soon.
“Aww.” I clink my glass against hers. “He is wonderful. Not at all who I thought I’d end up with, but…”
“Nobody wants a jelly and jelly sandwich,” she says. “Am I supposed to ignore the fact that you just said ‘end up with’?”
“Yes. That’s too fast.”
“Way too fast,” she agrees, then cups a hand around her mouth to whisper, “Ben says he knew on our first date.”
“That is so Ben,” I say, eyes wide. “I keep thinking about investing rules like, ‘if it seems too good to be true, it is.’ How did I get so lucky?”
