Page 14 of Wild Abandon

“Socrates,” she says. Then, she walks back to the couch, plops down, and reopens her book.

My fingers follow the silky path of my braid, feeling the bumps in the pattern and coming to the end below the tiny elastic holding it together. I pinch the tip of my hair and hold it the same way I did with the wine glass during my lesson.

So far, my two days in Napa are not at all what I pictured them to be.

And, yes, it is screwing me up.

Naomi folds her hands over the top of her laptop and leans forward. “Come on, what are you so worried about? Jeremy and I aren’t expecting you to pay rent, and this whole experience is supposed to be about trying something new. It can’t all be perfect.”

My head shoots up. “I never said it had to be perfect.”

Naomi lowers her shoulders and cocks her head to the side. “Crystal, you want everything to be perfect. That’s the way you are. It’s not an insult. It’s one of your best traits. All I’m saying is, try amending a little. You might surprise yourself.”

I suck on my bottom lip and think about what she’s saying. I don’t need everything to be perfect per se. I just want my life to go a certain way, is all. That’s not so bad. Is it?

The telltale sound of a phone vibrating causes Naomi to do the hand scramble people do when they think they’re getting a call. From the face she makes, I know it’s not for her. I do a scurry down the hall to my room and see my phone on the wood of Naomi’s desk. The face of a brown-eyed blonde who became a fixture in my life last year flashes on the screen.

“Emma!” My surprise at her call is apparent.

I haven’t heard from her since she went on her honeymoon, gallivanting around Europe for a month. Emma, a girl who hadn’t been looking for love, had had it practically fall in her lap. She’d met a man on vacation, and within months, he had a ring on her finger.

I go on at least one bad date a week and still can’t meet Mr. Worthy of a Second Cup of Coffee.

“Will you please explain to me why I went to your apartment, bearing lattes and souvenirs, and was greeted by a large Russian man wearing nothing but boxers and a garter?”

My knees bend, and my hand flies to my mouth as I gasp at the story. “You’re kidding me. Wait, how did the apartment look? He wasn’t doing anything weird in there, was he?”

I subleased my apartment with all my furniture to an actor in town for an Off-Broadway play. I’d hate to think I’d have to burn my mattress when I returned.

“Um, I don’t know. I was surprised when he said you’d moved, and he was renting your apartment for the next six months. Crystal! You have some explaining to do!”

I move the phone away from my ear as her voice pierces my eardrum. She sounds more like her crazy sister, Leah, than the mild-mannered girl I’ve befriended.

“I moved to Napa. Surprise,” I joke.

You see, here’s the thing about Emma. When I met her, she had moved to New York for a change of scenery. After suffering the loss of her brother and an injury that had taken away her dreams, she couldn’t stay in her hometown in Ohio anymore. She was also running away from a devastating heartache caused by a man.

I hear her sigh on the other end.

“If there’s anyone who understands why you’d move across the country, it’s me. Though I have no idea what you’re running from.”

She waits for me to answer, but I don’t have one for her. I’m not running from anything.

“How are you doing?” Her voice sounds understanding.

I take a seat on the futon, cross my legs, and fiddle with my braid again. “It’s only day two. Any advice?”

“Don’t come back.” Her answer surprises me, so I let her continue. “Not until the day you set for yourself to return.”

Six months.

“Why is that?” I ask, curiosity killing the cat.

“Because you’ll never learn whatever it is you set out to learn unless you see it through.”

I take a breath and let her motherly advice sink in. Speaking of which, I ask, “How are you feeling? Have you announced the pregnancy yet?”

Emma told me the day after her wedding that she was expecting her first child.