Page 67

That night, back in their room, Tara talked excitedly about all the job opportunities Holly had received.

“I know Shoshana offered you a job first, but would working for the Rosensteins be the best path? Imagine how many doors would open with a Michelin-starred restaurant on your CV? You could work in any bakery in the country.”

She doesn’t hear herself. She can’t turn it off.

Instead of trying to tell Tara, again, that she didn’t want to work at the best bakeries in the country, she kissed her and dragged her to bed.

Holly tried to be present, knowing how little time they had left, but there was a weight on her heart. If Tara wanted them to be together, she wouldn’t be jumping to push Holly off to the Adirondacks, or the Quad Cities. Not that Tara had ever said she wanted them to try a real relationship when all of this was over. That was a dream Holly had conjured up all on her own. And she was going to un-dream it, silently, so Tara would never know.

Chapter 21

Tara

It’s Christmas Eve! I’m getting married in four hours!” Miriam exclaimed.

Tara opened her eyes. Miriam was sitting on top of her and Holly, eyes wide as saucers, hair in every direction.

“FOUR! HOURS!”

Tara looked at the clock. Indeed, it was six a.m., so Miriam was getting married in four hours. But that didn’t explain why she was sitting on their bed.

“Why are you sitting on our bed?” Holly asked groggily. Tara was glad someone else thought this was strange.

“It’s so weird and I need someone to talk to and I can’t talk to Cole because he’s staying at Sawyer’s and Hannah is already super busy and Levi is cooking and, I mean, have you met my mother?”

“I’m glad I rank above your mother on the list of people you can talk to,” Tara said, shifting to rest against the headboard, “although I’m still not clear on what you’re doing in our bed.”

Miriam sighed dramatically, throwing up her hands. “You can’t judge me! I’m the bride!”

“Get off me, I’ll come help with… whatever it is you need right now. But close your eyes, because I’m naked.” Tara nudged her gently and rolled out from under her.

“I’ve seen you naked,” Miriam said, her hands dutifully over her eyes.

Holly cleared her throat. “Not to be hopelessly monogamist, but I personally would prefer if you did not continue to see her naked, and I think your soon-to-be-wife would agree.”

“Ah! Wife! I’m going to have a wife!” Miriam squealed. “I’m going to be a wife!”

Tara pulled a sweater over her head and reached for a pair of leggings. “You were definitely not this giggly about marrying me.”

“That’s why I didn’t marry you!” Miriam said, bouncing onto her feet and hopping off the bed. “Okay! Let’s go find coffee and muffins, and the hairdresser is supposed to be here from Lake Placid soon. Do you know the hairdresser? He cut Hannah’s hair. He’s the only person who can deal with my curls. And then you can make sure that I didn’t miss any wrinkles in my jumpsuit when I steamed it because I should not be allowed to steam things but I couldn’t let my mom do it because I’m pretty sure she would ruin it on purpose to get me to wear the dress she thinks I don’t know she snuck in and—”

Holly looked at Tara. “Don’t let her drink any more coffee.”

“Come on, little bit,” Tara said. “Let’s feed you. Tell me what you’re envisioning for your hair.”

This was her comfort zone, and why she had come. Finally she could help, and maybe earn a little bit of the space her friends had made for her here.

Following happily after her, Miriam started talking about Cher going to the opera in Moonstruck.

After steaming the jumpsuit, Tara left Miriam in the hands of the hairdresser, whom she of course did not know, having not been at Carrigan’s in more than a year, but who had, she admitted, done a killer job on Hannah’s hair. She stuck her head out into the hall and was immediately snagged by Cole.

“You have to come help Noelle. She won’t let me fix her hair at all.”

“Why would you fix Noelle’s hair?” Tara asked, allowing herself to be pulled into the room Noelle was using to get ready. “She has much better hair than you do.”

Noelle met Tara’s eyes in the mirror she was sitting in front of. “Thank you. That’s what I told him.”

“Okay,” Cole argued, “that’s fair, but you’ve been messing with it for forty-five straight minutes and according to Hannah’s minute-by-minute itinerary, you were only allotted thirty-nine minutes, and now you absolutely have to get into your tux.”