31
Now
Felix and I drive to Bloomfield and back in the Mustang, windows down, so I can buy a pink wool blanket. There and back, it’s more than two hours, but I savor being close to him. His hand on the gear shift, the wind ruffling his hair. I like Felix. And he likes me. It’s as fresh as a crocus in spring, but it’s never getting old.
By the time we get back to the house, it’s late afternoon. Felix assigns me as his sous chef, and I peel the husks from sunny cobs of corn while he scrubs new potatoes. We don’t talk much, but the way we navigate the kitchen in tandem feels like a conversation. A dance. A song. The lyrics say, We’re good together.
Bridget should be here any minute. Hopefully Miles is with her.
When Felix hands me a tomato and an enormous knife, I scowl. He knows I prefer when he does the cutting-up.
“You need practice,” he says, and because his eyes are soft and glowy, I take the knife and slice the tomatoes. What I wouldn’t do for those eyes.
Without Felix asking, I prepare them the way he does, overlapping the rounds on a plate, drizzling them with olive oil, sprinkling on the sea salt. I pluck basil leaves from Christine’s herb garden and tear them into strips to scatter over top. I hold the dish out to Felix with a smug grin. But I catch an
odd look on his face.
“What?”
He blinks. “You’re so fucking hot. That’s the sexiest plate of tomatoes I’ve ever seen.” He takes my face in his hands and crushes his lips to mine quickly.
“The words that come out of your mouth,” I say, laughing.
I chop dill for the potato salad. Felix stands beside me, whisking a marinade for the steak.
I’ve just finished setting the table when the door to the house opens.
“There you are,” I say to Bridget when she enters the kitchen. I’m smiling because Miles stands beside her, holding her hand.
He’s a good-looking man. Tall. Dark hair always neatly combed. He’s elegant and polished, but he’s not as reserved as he looks. His smile is wide.
His waist is narrow. He looks like he could swim a mile, but he’s not very confident in the water. Bridget’s working on it.
“It’s the future Mr. Bridget Clark,” I say to Miles before I realize that he’s
wearing an unusual expression.
“Lucy, hi.” He sounds off, too.
Bridget has moved into the kitchen, studying the flowers on the table. I’ve set it with Christine’s nice linen napkins and got out the special plates from
the hutch, the ones with the gold band.
“You got out the good china.”
“I did. We’re throwing you a celebration dinner,” I say. “Felix and me.”
I see his dimple from the corner of my eye, but I’m lasered on Bridget.
She doesn’t react to me calling her brother by his given name, like I thought she would. She touches a daisy petal and bursts into tears.
I rush to her side, sending a worried look to Felix. But he doesn’t seem shocked by what’s happening to my best friend.
“What did you do?” I ask Miles.
He holds up his hands. “It’s not what you think.”
“I will kill you, Miles Lam. Don’t think I won’t. I have a very large knife, and I know how to use it.”
Bridget laughs, then begins to sob harder. I hug her close. “What is happening right now? Can you please tell me?” I usher her over to the sofa, glaring at Miles.
“Bridget. Talk to me.”
She nods through her tears. Swats them away with her hand. “Okay.” But she doesn’t speak. She pushes a curl from her face, and it falls right back.
When we were roommates and Bridget’s hair was annoying her, I’d weave it into a French braid. We’ve had a lot of talks while I plaited her hair.
“Turn around,” I tell her. “I’ll get it out of your way.”
Miles joins Felix in the kitchen. Felix says something quietly in his ear, and Miles nods. I get the feeling I’m being left out of something. They watch as I separate Bridget’s hair into sections, both looking concerned. Only when
I’m finished does Bridget speak.
“Can we take a walk?”
• • •
WE GO TO THE BEACH.
“I’m not sure where to start,” Bridget admits.
“Is there a beginning?”
She takes a deep breath. “I think so. It’s also the middle and the end.”
“Okay,” I say. “Start there.”
She stops walking and looks at me. Her chin quivers. “I don’t want to say it. If I say it, then it’s true.”
My stomach dips. “Is the wedding off? Because if it—”
“No,” Bridget interrupts. She swallows twice before saying, “Miles has been offered a job in Australia.”
Everything goes blank. My mind, offline. My body, frozen.
“Bee?”
I focus on Bridget, on her brown eyes, which are beginning to well up again, and it all makes sense. Bridget has spent the past few days working through the biggest decision of her life. And I know my friend. I know she’s already made it.
It takes me a full ten seconds to speak. “You’re moving to Australia.”
She nods, and twin tears fall onto her freckled cheeks. “I’m sorry, Bee.”
She wraps her arms around my waist, burying her face on my shoulder.
Bridget is crying, but I stand there, arms limp at my sides. I think my brain is
broken.
“I don’t want to go,” she chokes out.
Her body begins to shake. Her sobs come harder, like they’re ripped from her soul. It wakes me up. I’m Bridget’s best friend, and I need to act like it. I circle my arms around her shoulders, holding her tight. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I know,” she says. “I know. Please don’t hate me.”
“I could never,” I say, squeezing her to me. “Never, never.”
We cry into each other’s necks, and when the sobs turn into sniffles, we sit side by side on the sand, knees drawn up, so Bridget can tell me the full story. With a voice that sounds like it’s been churned in a concrete mixer, Bridget explains that Miles’s employer is opening a satellite office in Sydney.
He’s been tasked with running it. It’s a significant promotion.
“How long have you known?”
“Just a few days. He got the offer last week, and I freaked.”
“That’s why you came here.”
“Yeah,” she says. “I just wanted to hug my parents and my brother. And you. I needed space to figure out what to do. I’ve turned it over one hundred
times, but there’s really no option.”
“You have to go.”
“I have to go.” She sighs. “I’ve always wanted to go back to Australia. To stay longer than we did last time, but I never wanted to move there. It’s so
fucking far.”
“It’s as far as there is.”
Bridget tells me they’ve committed to going for two years, and then they’ll reassess. “We leave in October.”
My mouth opens. That’s only two months away. “But you love your job,”
I whisper. It’s the only counterargument I have.
“I really do.” Her chin is wobbling again.
“So why go? Why does Miles’s career take priority?”
“It doesn’t. He would turn it down if I asked. But it’s an incredible opportunity, and I don’t want to hold him back. And part of me can see what
a once-in-a-lifetime experience this will be for me. I’ve only ever lived here and in Toronto. I’d like to get to know the place where Miles grew up. It’s only two years.”
“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.”
She laughs. “Maybe.”
“Do you think your boss would let you stay on remotely?” I want to climb into bed and hibernate for two years until Bridget comes back, but I’ve switched over to best friend autopilot, attempting to be supportive.
She sucks in a deep breath. “I don’t know. I still haven’t figured that part out yet. I like going into the hospital, having colleagues, feeling like I’m part of a community. I love my coworkers. I love what I do. But I’m not sure it would make sense with the time difference.”
“What is the time difference?”
“They’re sixteen hours ahead.”
“Wow. You’re going to be living in the future. Can you tell me the winning lottery numbers?”
“Absolutely. That’s exactly how it works. We’ll be rich.”
A couple walks by us on the beach, nodding as they go.
“I can’t believe it,” I murmur. “I think I may have to live in denial until you get on a plane. Even then, I’m not sure I’ll be able to accept it.” I turn to her. “Bridge, you’re my everything.”
She tucks my hair behind my ear, then holds my cheeks in her hands. My tears threaten once more.
“I love you,” she tells me. “But I can’t be your everything. Nobody can.
And I’ll still help with the shop—I can do the accounting stuff. You don’t have to worry about that.”
Something about her offer bothers me, but I can’t put my finger on why.
We go quiet and watch the waves, letting it all sink in.
Bridget is moving. To another continent. Another hemisphere.
“I think you’re brave,” I say eventually. “What you’re doing is brave.”
“Thank you.”
“But I wish you would have told me sooner. I get that you don’t appreciate unsolicited advice, but this is a really big thing to hold back from
me.”
“I was trying to protect you. You lost your aunt last year, and I know how much you miss her. Plus, you’re already so stressed—I didn’t want to add to it. But it also felt like if I told you, it would feel real, you know? And I didn’t want you to try to talk me into staying before I’d made a decision.”
“Bridget, I can’t even talk you into buying a new pair of leggings. And you keeping secrets is stressful. You’re always helping me but never let me help you. It sometimes feels like our relationship is one-sided because you don’t need me.”
Her brows lift. “You really think that? Bee, of course I need you. Why do you think this is so hard for me? For years after I moved to Toronto, I felt so alone. But then I met you, and I met Stacy. I wouldn’t have survived without you and all that pasta your aunt fed us. Our Wednesday movie nights. Our kitchen dance parties. The flower shop. Our excursions to the theater with your aunt. I would have moved back to the island. I wouldn’t have met Miles.
I wouldn’t have my job. I owe you everything. I love you, you potato.”
I begin to cry again. “I love you, too.”
She rubs my shoulder until I meet her eyes and brush my tears away.
“And you know my parents adore you,” she says. “They’d have you here anytime, and it will make me feel better if you’d visit them.”
“Have you told them yet?”
“No,” she says. “I’d like to put that off forever. They already think Toronto is too far.”
I think of the way Felix glared at the letter Bridget left yesterday. “Your brother knows, doesn’t he? Is that what you were arguing about the other night?”
She nods. “He wouldn’t leave me alone until I told him. Wolf can be pretty headstrong. And he was pissed that I was keeping it from you.”
Bridget told Felix before she told me. My first reaction is hurt, but I know it’s hypocritical. I’ve been keeping secrets from Bridget, too. For years.
“I’m sorry, Bee,” she says.
I know it’s time to confess, but I’m terrified. Bridget’s moving to the other side of the world, and it would be so easy for her to cut me out of her
life. I’m losing her to Australia, but if she feels betrayed, I’ll lose her all over again.
“I . . .” I hesitate. Because there’s something I haven’t considered before.
What if Bridget isn’t upset? What if she thinks Felix and I wouldn’t work as a couple? Felix may not care about her opinion, but I do.
“Bee?” Bridget asks when seconds pass without me speaking.
“I have to tell you something.” It comes out in a rush. Six words in one.
“What is it?”
I feel like I might vomit. “Please don’t hate me.” I repeat her plea.
“It would be impossible to hate you.”
“I—” I’ve tried to do this before, but I’ve never got this far. I feel like I’m sprinting toward the edge of a cliff. I take her hands in mine so I don’t have to jump alone. This is it. I take a deep breath, then fling myself into the air. “I like your brother.” I let it hang there for second. “A lot.”
Bridget frowns, confused.
“And he likes me.” I sound like I’m thirteen. I try again. “Bridget, I have feelings for him. Real ones. We—” Her eyes widen, and I go on. “We are kind of . . . um . . . Well, there’s kissing.”
“You and my brother?”
“Yes.”
“Are kissing.” She speaks slowly, processing.
“Well, it’s more than kiss—”
“Stop.” She cuts me off, and I hold my breath. “I don’t want to hear whatever you were about to say. He’s my brother, Bee.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me.”
Her nose scrunches. “Why would I hate you?”
“You told me not to get involved with him.”
“I told you not to fall in love with him. Wait, are you in love with Wolf?”
“I like him a lot. More than anyone. In a way that scares me, to be honest.”
“Huh.” A smile begins to blossom on her lips as she shakes her head. “I can’t believe it. I mean, I knew you’d fooled around, but—”
“Wait.” My jaw hangs open.
Bridget looks at me, smug.
“You knew?”
“I knew.”
“Did Felix tell you?”
“Is that what you call him? That’s so weird,” she says. “And no, he didn’t tell me. Although, when you came back from PEI last summer, he stopped asking about you, which was such a dramatic change from his regular pestering for Bee-related intel. And you got this weird look whenever I mentioned him. I knew something had gone down—I told you that.”
I’m speechless.
“I remember being suspicious the second time you came here,” Bridget says. “You and Wolf kept staring at each other. But it was that trip we took at Thanksgiving—I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and your bedroom door was open.”
“Oh my god,” I murmur. I can’t believe I didn’t close it when I went to
find Felix downstairs.
“And you weren’t in bed.”
I rub my eye, not sure whether to be ashamed, embarrassed, or relieved— all those things, probably.
“And I heard the pull-out sofa make a very loud screech.”
“No,” I say.
“Yes,” she says. “I’d like to scrub that from my brain.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” I take a deep breath.
“I’ll send you my therapy bill.”
“So Miles knows?”
“Yes, Miles knows. I assume Zach knows since he and Wolf don’t keep secrets. My grandparents definitely know—Grandma was the one who first mentioned to my parents that she thought you were more than friends. And I’d put money on my mother redecorating Wolf’s old room specifically with you in mind. Christine Clark doesn’t do girly, at least she didn’t used to. This entire family has been secretly shipping the two of you for years.”
This is dizzying. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she counters.
I’m defenseless. “I didn’t know he was your brother. Not at first. I met him at the restaurant when you missed your flight that first summer.” I will never share the rest of that story with Bridget. “We promised it wouldn’t happen again. I’m sorry I kept it from you, but it wasn’t supposed to mean anything. For a long time, I didn’t think it did. I didn’t want it to.”
“Wow.” She pauses, gathering her thoughts. “This has been going on for five years?”
“Not the whole time. I’m sorry I haven’t told you until now. I’ve tried, but with what happened with Joy, I just couldn’t do it.”
“Well, I would very much appreciate if you don’t break my brother’s heart and then ignore me in the aftermath.” She says this deadpan, but there’s a small smile on her face.
“But what if it doesn’t work? If I fuck it up, I’ll lose you both. You’ll hate me.”
She scoffs. “If you fuck it up, then I’ll love you. It’s Wolf who needs to watch out.”
She stares out at the water, chewing on her lip, for a solid minute. “I can see it,” she says, sounding decisive. “He’ll steady you, and you’ll pull him out of his shell. He’s always more talkative when you’re around, and you’ll both take care of each other. I think it could work.” Bridget falls silent again, then shakes her head. “Wow. You and my brother, huh?”
“Yes,” I say. “Me and your brother.”
