Page 31 of I Can't Even

“I know,” I said. “It boggles. How are my kitties?”

“They miss their mama,” Jessie said. “No, that’s a lie. They love having me dote on them, they hardly even remember your name.”

“You’re funny, but really, I can’t thank you enough,” I said.

“Don’t mention it. And I mean that. Don’t mention it. I don’t want anyone else taking advantage of me like this.”

I laughed and was hit with a pang of longing to see Jessie. Having moved to New York City together, we were bonded by that adventure which started with us being two surfboard-riding, beach-bum-So-Cal kids three thousand miles away from home transplanted in a fast-paced frenetic city that never slept and had ended in serious best friends forevership.

“How are you doing really?” Jessie asked. “I know you and Babs had a complicated relationship but it’s still got to be tough, especially now that you know—”

“Understatement,” I interrupted. I had told Jessie about the bombshell of my birth mother, but I wasn’t up for talking it over right now.

“Yeah.” Jessie got it. Having a similar complicated sort of thing in the parental department, Jessie understood more than anyone the mix of emotions I’d been churning through since I’d arrived in Gull’s Harbor. “So, have you seen him again?”

Jessie sounded casual, too casual, and I knew Jess, too, had a million unresolved feelings for Liam who was a former best friend. They had been the best of the best, right up until the night Jessie fled town with said best friend’s girlfriend—i.e., me.

I wasn’t going to lie to Jessie. Lies, I had discovered over the years, forced a new identity onto the liar, like wearing one of those hideous latex Halloween masks that makes it hard to breathe, only you can never take the lie off and it slowly suffocates the person you once were. Yeah, sure, wearing the mask seems like a good idea at the time but after a few hours in it, you realize it’s killing you and there’s nothing you can do about it. So, no lies.

“Actually, he’s coming over tonight,” I said.

Silence greeted this news.

In my mind, I could see Jessie mulling this over, probably pacing in a bathrobe with an espresso or a martini, or an espresso martini in hand.

“How did that come about?” Jessie asked. “I thought you were just enjoying the view of the man candy from your bedroom window.”

I had already confessed my voyeuristic tendencies a few days ago when I’d called to tell Jessie about Babs’s passing.

“Yeah, well, I was in his coffee shop earlier.” I winced at Jessie’s loud shout of disbelief and lowered the volume on my headset.

“You were in his shop?” Jessie sounded stunned. “Exactly when did you level up to out-and-out stalking?”

“I wasn’t looking for him,” I fibbed. Technically, a fib is not a lie. “I can’t help it if this tiny town only has one coffee shop.”

“Puleeze, you can buy coffee at the gas station or, you know, make your own.”

“Whatever,” I said, feeling defensive. Tension filled the airwaves.

“What are you going to tell him about me?” I detected a tiny hint of worry in Jessie’s tone.

“Nothing,” I said. “He very specifically said he wasn’t coming over to talk.”

“Oh...oh! Well, that escalated quickly.” Jessie’s voice had a bit of bite to it. “Good old, Liam, always gets the girl, doesn’t he?”

“Jessie, don’t...” I said.

“It’s all right. I’m in a better place now, a great place, really. I’m so over it.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “You’re my best friend. I don’t want to do anything that would hurt you, but I...I need this. I need him.”

“No, it’s cool.” There was a pause and then Jessie’s voice was filled with mischief. “I forgive you so long as you call me tomorrow with all the juicy details.”

“You’re a pervert,” I said with a laugh.

“This is news?”

And just like that, things were okay between us. The relief I felt was huge.

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