Page 82 of Say You Will

I made this friendship bracelet for you, then I never gave it to you because I was worried about what your reaction would be.

I know this isn’t the wedding ring you wanted, but I hope you’ll accept this piece of sentimentality commemorating our years of friendship.

Always, Franki”

I stare at the note for a long time, reading and rereading. Trying to understand the layers of subtext in it. Friendship instead of a wedding ring. She was worried about how I’d react to her note.

I didn’t mistake her last night. I couldn’t have. But she’s changed her mind.

She told me she gets claustrophobic.

Dad warned me.“Don’t smother her.”

I should have said I lied to her father and dropped the actual wedding until we were further along. I shouldn’t have stopped her from leaving when she said goodnight.I admitted that I waited for her.

I’ll give her time and try again slower. I spooked her. I should have known it by her reaction last night when she tried to go back to her own room.

This is why I went numb,because emotions suck. They rip you up and make you bleed on the inside. I shower, shave, and dress on autopilot as I go over the events of last night in my mind on repeat, attempting to find the place where I went so completely wrong. By the time I knock on Franki’s door, she’s already gone downstairs without me.

The kitchen, when I enter, is in full swing, but Franki is nowhere in sight. The thought of food revolts me, so I search through the tea drawer.Who the hell doesn’t keep Earl Grey in the house?

I ignore the fact that my sister has been ill.Someonewas responsible for keeping this place stocked, and whatever staff member that was has not been doing an adequate job. Resentfully, I pour myself a cup of coffee and sit at the table, scowling into the bitter black liquid.

Franki and Dad enter from the porch door, laughing about something. She’s not using her cane, and I assume from how smoothly she’s moving that her RA isn’t bothering her too much this morning. It comes and goes in flares.

Dad has an arm around her shoulders, and she appears happy and relaxed. No doubt an expression of relief after cutting me loose. Dad and Franki must have stepped outside for only a moment because neither are wearing a jacket, and they each have a cup of coffee in hand.

She catches me looking at her and smiles, giving me a little finger wave. I’m not ready to smile back. I will. Later. For now,I pretend to be distracted by Phee in her high chair saying, “Banananana”—big breath—“nanananana.” Even though there’s not a banana in sight.

There are too many people in this room. Clattering dishes, bacon sizzling on the griddle, talking, food smells. It’s way too bright in here, the sunshine pouring through the windows. My sister’s laugh reminds me of the porn audio from last night, and my mood sours further.

“The next time I sleep here, I’m bringing noise cancelling headphones,” I snarl.

Bronwyn whirls my way, then waves a spatula at me, precariously close to actually hitting me with it. “You will respect my husband, or you will leave,” she snaps.

Her reaction is over the top and completely inappropriate to the situation. “This has nothing to do with your husband. He’s not the one who makes me want to wash my eardrums with bleach,” I say acidly.

Then, to make sure she understands exactly what I’m saying, I clarify further, “My bedroom faces west. My windows wereopen.”

The spatula clatters to the floor. When she picks it up and limps to the sink, she sputters, “Why would you have your windows open in October?”

I glance at Franki, who looks as calm and content as ever.

“I was overheated,” I mutter.

Franki puts her arm around Bronwyn and tries to soothe ruffled feathers. “He was fine. He closed his window, and we went right to sleep.”

Silence descends. Does she not understand what she just did? How many explanations this could end up requiring?We’re just friends who fucked?In front of my mother, who freaks out if one of us says the word “dick” in her presence?

Mom looks at me with an avaricious smile I’ve never seen before. More than once she’s asked if I was interested in finding someone. She adores Franki. She would assume if we slept together, we’d be serious because she knows I don’t do casual. She’s already imagining the grandchildren we’ll give her. I can see it on her face.

“Are you seeing each other?” She turns to Dad where he’s refilling his coffee. “Arden, did you know this?”

I stand abruptly and attempt damage control. “We are not in a relationship. No.” I force a laugh. “That would be absurd.”

Then I leave because I can’t stand another second in this room. I glance at my watch. I’ll walk off some of this tension and give myself until ten a.m., then come back ready to be asfriendlyas Franki needs me to be.

I toss on a blue wool cardigan after pulling it from a wooden locker in the mudroom and take off for the tree line where the hiking path starts, nodding to security as I go.

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