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ELAINA MURPHY
A woman discovering that being left
behind sucks as much as she expected it would…
It’s a gorgeous day.
Just completely fucking gorgeous…
And I’m miserable.
Completely fucking miserable…
It’s the sun’s fault.
Damned sun…
There it is, hovering above the ocean like a huge orange asshole, bathing the craggy Maine coastline in a haze of pink and gold that I know would have made my mother cry. She loved beach weddings. She would have loved this one, even if my friend Sydneyisvisibly pregnant.
Mom preferred people do things in order—dating, marriage,thenbabies—but she loved Syd. She would have been so happy to see her saying “I do” to the man of her dreams and Gideon watching her walk down the aisle like she’s the best thing that ever happened to him.
Hell, the best thing that ever happened to the world.
He’s so in love with her, it’s ridiculous.
And beautiful.
And gross.
Love is gross. I hate it. I don’t ever want to be in love again. I’mgladthat I haven’t been on a date since I buried Mom four months ago, let alone found anyone to shack up with in my apartment above the cat café. The cats are all I need. Just cats and new scone recipes and a steady stream of nights alone watching reality television, interspersed with the occasional Zoom book club meeting.
Now that all my girlfriends have moved to New York to be with their sexy boyfriends and husbands, we can’t do book clubs in person at the café anymore. But that’s fine. Who needs hugs or shared food or laughter that isn’t filtered through a screen?
Not me.
This is fine.
Better than fine.
A twisted part of me is even glad that Mom’s gone, and I don’t have weekly dinners at her place on my schedule anymore. I miss her so much but seeing her in pain all the time at the end was killing me. She’d always been so strong, so independent, raising me alone while running her own dry-cleaning business and volunteering at the church every time they opened the doors. Barbara Ellen Murphy was a powerhouse, then she was a desperately sick woman who hated not being able to get out of bed, and now…she’s gone.
I bite the inside of my cheek as I pop the top on my second beer and try to talk myself into joining the dancing. It doesn’t matter that I’ll be the only one dancing alone. Dancing is still fun.
Right?
“Fuck if I know,” I mutter, blaming the aforementioned piece-of-shit sun for the tears that sting into my eyes as I take a pull on my IPA.
“El?” My bestie, Maya’s, sweet voice pulls me from my thoughts. “You okay?”
I glance over to find my oldest friend reaching for a lemonade from the ice bucket full of drinks on the refreshment table and force a smile. I will not ruin this day for anyone else. I will continue to hide my despair until they’re all gone and I’m alone in my apartment, where I can have a good cry.
Or a primal scream. Or whatever feels most fitting after a day pretending that I’m fine with being the one happily ever after forgot.
“Yeah, just zoning out a little. It’s been a long day,” I say, my fake smile stretching wider as Anthony, Maya’s silver fox boyfriend appears behind her, touching a gentle hand to her hip as he reaches past her to claim a beer.
She glances at him over her shoulder, just for a second, but that’s all it takes for them to exchange one of their deeply-in-love smiles. They are also grossly in love and so sweet and good to each other it’s honestly a little nauseating. They only got engaged a couple of months ago, but they have the energy of people who have been devoted for ages.