Page 19 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?

EIGHT

Cordially Yours

“ S o, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.

” Why was Ella’s heartbeat so prominent, banging on her chest like a door-to-door salesperson?

Get outta here, heartbeat. It had no business in this conversation because she had zero reason to be nervous.

She wasn’t even digging her nails into her palms. Stop that .

This was Rachel of all people. And all she had to do was put the cards on the table.

“Talk away. Everything all right?” Rachel, newly home from work, slid out of her shiny, gray pumps, which matched her belt perfectly.

They must have been a matched set. She then pulled out the hairband and a variety of pins that had been holding her hair in the fancy swirly updo.

She was de-Rachelfying. In the time they’d lived together, she’d come to know that the second Rachel walked in the door, she set about stripping herself out of work mode.

The transition would start before Ella could count to ten.

“Everything is fine. But I’ve seen Max a couple of times. At book club.”

“Of course.” She winced. “Sorry about that.”

“Once at the grocery store.”

“Random. Did you at least say hi?”

“I did. She bought me grapes.”

“What? That’s so weird.” Rachel tossed a final pin onto the swirly white granite countertop and gave her red hair a shake, forcing it to drop like a waterfall onto her shoulders. Rachel had always had beautiful waterfall hair. “Why in the world would she do that?”

“I think she saw that I was worried about my budget, and was shooting for a peace offering.”

“Typical.” She rolled her shoulders as if ordering her body to relax. “Don’t fall for it.”

“Right. No. I won’t. But what I want is to, at least, try and keep things cordial between us, and I wanted to be up-front with you about that.” She met Rachel’s green eyes and waited.

“Right. Cordial, of course, which is different than friendly. I’m just looking out for you when I say that Max is …”

“What?” Ella asked, honestly wanting to hear Rachel’s thoughts.

“Trouble. And I happen to be very protective of you. I think there’s nothing wrong with cordial.”

She watched as Rachel breezed past her, effectively ending the conversation with a fragrance-filled exit.

Yet, there Ella still stood in the kitchen, wearing her Wonder Woman socks and trying to decode the tiny differences between friendly and cordial, and what kind of interaction was crossing a Rachel-drawn line in the sand. Why did everything have to be so hard?

As if on a rescue mission, Ella’s phone began to scream from her pants. “Why couldn’t something else cause screaming in my pants?” she murmured, checking her phone’s readout. A smiling photo of her parents grinned at her, signaling their call from her mom’s phone.

“Hey, you two,” she said, accepting the FaceTime invite. “Where are we today? Is it Brussels?” Her parents, looking back at her, resembled near carbon copies of the ones in the photo, only these two were holding up fancy chocolates.

“Hi, sweetheart,” her mother said. “We’re stuffing our faces full of chocolates and saying cheers to you and your new adventure in Virginia.”

“Ha. Kind of you, but you might hold off until we see if I sink or swim.”

Her father shook his head. “You’d never sink. You have your mom’s street smarts. Speaking of, she knows this place so well, she’s already offering directions to lost tourists.”

“Impressive. Hey, are we still on for next month?” After losing her job, they’d talked about a meetup when they got to London.

Ella had always wanted to see Buckingham Palace, and with her parents already there, it seemed like the perfect time.

Plus, she hadn’t seen them in what seemed like forever.

Her mom frowned. “About that. We were talking, and our schedule is going to be jam-packed on the days we’re there. Plus, Tom and Susan and Bill and Margaret will be with us.”

Her father frowned, too. “We’re so sad, but I’m thinking it’s not going to be the best time.”

“Oh,” Ella said, her heart squeezing uncomfortably. “That’s totally okay,” she said, brightening. “I was only going to come if it was convenient.”

“You are the most considerate,” her mom said, hand to her heart. “I raised the sweetest girl. Oh! And we want to send you a little something, so text me Rachel’s address.”

“Unless you’re so ahead of the game that you’ll have a place soon,” her dad said.

Ella closed her eyes, a part of her deflating because there was no way. “Not quite there, yet, Dad, but I do have some irons in the fire, as you used to say.”

“I love it.” He glanced behind them and yelled. “We’ll be right over. Don’t toast yet. James, I’m warning you.” Laughter ensued. Ella tried to smile along, but hers felt wobbly at best.

“We’d better run,” her mom said. As an afterthought, she dropped her shoulders. “I’m so sad London didn’t work out.”

“Me, too,” Ella said. Her hand was shaking. That was weird. She used her free one to steady her wrist so they wouldn’t notice. “Maybe we can pick another date. Some other city.” Her dad was already gone. He’d run off after their friends had jovially shouted something in the background.

“That is the best idea. Let’s both brainstorm. Send me that address. I love you to the stars.”

“I love you, too. Don’t eat too much chocolate.”

“Can you imagine? Bye!” And then she was gone, leaving Ella in the kitchen, still shakily holding the phone in front of her.

“Everything okay?” Rachel asked quietly. She’d slipped back into the kitchen at some point, work clothes now gone.

Ella turned to her, her eyes filling. “Yeah. For sure.”

“No, it’s not,” Rachel said quietly.

Ella shook her head, a crumpled mess. “It’s stupid. I don’t know why I’m getting all?—”

Rachel’s arms were instantly around her, holding on tight. “It doesn’t matter why, but I’ve got you.”

Her throat ached, and her tears spilled hot and plentiful, making her every bit as embarrassed as she was sad.

Her parents didn’t want to see her. In fact, the idea of her joining them for even a few days seemed like an awful inconvenience.

She didn’t understand what it was about her that made her such an afterthought.

Why was she so very inconsequential to the people she invested in?

Rachel guided her to the couch and plopped down next to her. “Sometimes a girl has to cry, right?”

Ella nodded, her voice not quite available yet. Rachel didn’t seem to mind and even took the lead, chattering away, which allowed Ella the space to breathe and compose herself.

“I remember the last time I cried at work. It was two weeks ago when I’d been pushing myself so hard and working too many hours that my coping skills were drilled down to nubs.

I knocked over my Venti half-caf oat milk caramel macchiato before I’d even gotten a second sip.

The whole thing just gone. I wailed, channeling my inner three-year-old. ”

Ella wiped her cheeks as she listened, a small smile forming like a flame flickering to life in the dark. “That’s awful,” she mumbled, imagining the tantrum.

“I wanted to throw things at the wall. I would have if I didn’t share it with Ben the Backstabber.”

That’s right. She’d heard of Backstabbing Ben. He wore the tightest pants in the East and heated salmon in the microwave. “You should have done it anyway. The salmon infraction alone would exonerate you.”

“Damn right I should have,” Rachel said, handing Ella a tissue from a box on the end table. “Now, what’s made you cry tonight?”

Ella sighed, ready to speak on it. She appreciated Rachel giving her the space to find her way there. “I was supposed to visit my parents in London in a few weeks.”

“I remember. You were shopping for that plaid raincoat. I still vote for the blue and red.”

“Well, they don’t think my coming is the best idea.” She shrugged, embarrassed for even her best friend to hear that.

Rachel closed her eyes and shook her head. “Your parents can be selfish assholes.”

Ella’s brows flew to her forehead, and she laughed. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“It’s harsh,” Rachel said, waving a hand. “But I’m going to level with you. They’ve always been self-involved, and I can say that because I’m self-involved, too. We can spot our kind in the wild.”

“That’s impressive, I guess. I’ve been feeling like a loser lately, and just when I started to get my footing with this new business, bam. Right back to Loser Central.”

“Ella Baker, look me in the eyes.” Reluctantly, she did. “You’re not a loser. You’re the most awesome person I know. The one human whom I can depend on, and laugh with, and simply chill next to for hours on end. No one makes me feel as comfortable or like myself as you.”

Those words were in such need at that moment. “Thank you,” she said quietly. Her silly little emotions welled up again.

Rachel slapped her knee. “And you can stand on your head and sing the alphabet backwards. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that duplicated.”

“I appreciate you acknowledging that,” she mumbled.

“Now go put on leggings or sweatpants. Ditch your bra. We are going to eat so much popcorn on that couch and watch whatever the hell you want while we bash Ben.”

That perked her the hell up. “What am I gonna do if I ever meet this guy? Will he know all the shit I’ve talked about him?”

“No. He’s the most oblivious crumb of a person. He thinks he invented cool socks. Like the ones with the loud, colorful designs that people have been wearing for the last eight years. Credits himself.”

“Dammit, Ben. You did not invent loud socks.”

Rachel waited in front of the microwave while the bag inside rose up like a sleeping giant stirring awake.

There would be buttery goodness soon, and she could wallow properly.

The microwave beeped, and as Rachel dutifully assembled their feast, Ella threw herself onto her back and checked her email.

It had become an obsessive habit since the faithful day she was laid off.

She blinked at the top of her inbox and sat right back up.

“I think I just sold a cover. One of the first four pre-mades I listed on the website.”

“What?” Rachel asked, swiveling. “How do people already know about you? Did you not just design that website a minute ago?”

“I ran a cheap little Instagram ad targeting romance authors. It cost exactly nine dollars and look!” She turned her phone around in victory.

“It sold me a cover, and I didn’t list them for cheap.

Do you know how many groceries I can buy now?

This is amazing.” She stood on the couch and began walking its length back and forth like a wrestler who’d just trounced an opponent.

“I like the new, triumphant you.” Rachel put a hand on her hip. “Things turn around fast in this house.”

She dropped down onto her ass with a happy bounce. “I need to make more covers since it looks like this idea might just take off.”

Rachel held out the bowl. “Do you want popcorn first or …”

“Oh, the popcorn is required fortification before I can create.”

As they watched loud game shows from twenty years ago while wearing pajama pants and worn-out T-shirts, Ella let her mind drift.

She looked forward to telling the Weepers about her sale, and specifically imagined Max’s face softening to a grin, a sight to behold.

She touched her cheeks, half realizing that they were warm.

“What is going on in that head of yours?” Rachel asked.

“Me?” She sat up straight, moving herself guiltily right out of the daydream. “I was just fantasizing about my new little job and all the ways I can spend the lavish sums of money I’m going to rake in.”

“You can buy your own grapes now,” Rachel said, rolling her eyes.

“Right. Thank God.”

Rachel shook her head, ponytail swishing in judgment. “I still can’t believe she did that. How desperate for attention do you have to be?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t necessary.” Inside, alarm bells sounded.

She looked over at Rachel, the one person who had never let her down.

She thought of Max and the grapes and the kernel of hope she’d been sheltering.

She couldn’t hold onto both. How was she supposed to stay away from Max when all she wanted to do was not stay away from Max?

At the same time, she absolutely refused to throw her friend under the bus.

“Hummus!” Rachel yelled, startling Ella right out of her crisis of conscience. “Hummus!”

“What?”

“It’s the answer to the question,” she said, popping an M&M and gesturing to the TV with her chin. She’d forgotten all about the supermarket game show they’d been watching.

“I do love hummus,” she said, attempting to rejoin the here and now.

“I have some in the fridge.” Rachel hopped up, squeezing Ella’s shoulder as she passed. She paused, fridge door open. “You know, I’m not the sentimental type, but I’m really happy you decided to move to Everly Springs.”

She smiled up at Rachel, and everything in her inflated.

She had to remember something hugely important.

She wasn’t alone or overlooked, not in this household.

Gratitude stuck with her for the rest of the night, and she let her hang-ups with her family, her preoccupation with Maxine Wyler, and her own self-esteem issues float away in favor of a little much-needed friend time. It was salve to a wound.

“Hey, Rach.” She squeezed her friend’s ankle across the couch. “You’ve saved me in so many ways this year. I’m not sure how to go about repaying you.”

Rachel relaxed into a warm grin. She dropped her cheek against the couch cushion and met Ella’s gaze with purpose. “Nothing to repay me for at all. This is what friends do for each other.”

Rachel was absolutely right. Friendship wasn’t just text messages and inside jokes—it was about showing up. And Ella knew, without a doubt, she’d do the same for Rachel in a heartbeat. “Hey. I love you.”

Rachel beamed. “I love you back.”