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We drove back to her house, grabbed some beach towels, snacks, and our Kindles, and got in the car. The second my feet hit the sand, I felt better. Freer.
“How’s your editor liking the book?” I asked Mara. “You haven’t said much about it.”
“Shesaysshe likes it.” She fanned out her towel and sat on it, then retrieved her sunblock. “You know how it is. I always worry each book I write will be the last and everyone will figure out I’m a hack who doesn’t even have a high school diploma.”
I frowned. “But what does a diploma have to do with what you do now? Do all of those reviewers who say they love your books care about that?”
“I know they don’t.” She paused to lather sunscreen over her face. “But maybe I do.”
“Have you ever thought about getting your GED?”
She was quiet for a moment. “I have. But I don’t know if I want to. Getting my GED will be like proving all those people right who said I’d never amount to anything without it.”
I smiled at my friend. I loved her spunk, right along with her spite. I felt a hundred percent confident that was what helped her get so far in life. “Well, my master’s-degree-having ass is thankful for the house you got without graduating.”
She gave me a smile. “For that, I’m sending you the book.”
My mouth fell open. “Before your editor gets it back to you?” Maraneverallowed me to read rough drafts, no matter how much I begged.
“It’s about a formerly rich girl who falls in love, so I may need your advice.”
“Well then, I’m your girl.”
“Now, put on your sunscreen, or you’ll be my girl with melanoma.”
Laughing, I took the bottle from her. “Getting older is weird.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon on the beach, reading, relaxing, and enjoying each other. Because these really were the days. Someday, maybe, we’d have partners, children, and we’d long for these days spent just us girls. I was going to savor every moment.
41
Cohen
Ollie and I sat across from each other at the dinner table. Our plates were full of spicy chicken and rice. It was one of my favorite things to make, and thankfully he liked it too. He also seemed in a better mood today than he had last week.
Things were looking up. Finally. Therapy must be helping, and Saturday with Birdie... I couldn’t think about things like that at the dinner table. Not when I still had until Saturday to see her—and it was only Monday.
“Did you have a good botany club meeting?” I asked Ollie.
He nodded, looking down at his plate full of food.
“No-word answers? That’s a new one,” I said with a teasing tone.
He rolled his eyes. “How much is there to say about it?”
“Apparently not much.” I took another bite. “And what about your weekend? Mom doing well?”
“Yeah. She is.”
“Good,” I said. And I meant it. No one deserved to be alone. And even though divorce had felt like admitting failure, no one deserved to be in a loveless relationship.
I wondered what might have happened if Audrey and I had tried to stick it out—lived alongside each other like roommates in a house big enough to hold all of our possessions but none of our baggage.
I might never have met Birdie. Might not be seeing her Saturday.
“Dad?” Ollie said.