Page 65 of The Last Lavender Sister

“Suit yourself. But it’s my son’s wedding,” he said, tossing back the last of his beer and joining Marigold and Sage in the “Y.M.C.A.” That made her smile. He hopped and did his best to make thatM, checking with others on the floor to make sure he had the choreography right. Bless him. He was quieter these days and seemingly lost without their mom, but he was actively trying, and that was important. She’d visited him daily since she’d been back and made meals a couple of times.

Deciding to indulge in a glass of wine, Aster made her way to the bar. There was a cake line, and she had to maneuver her way through the throngs.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, elbowing someone behind her.

“It’s okay.”

She looked back immediately. Brynn. Of course. Maybe it was the sentimentality of the occasion, but instead of walking on, she paused. Only she had no idea what to say. Nice cake? You come here often? Maybe even, hey, remember that time we mattered more to each other than either of us thought possible? Instead, she went with, “I think the ceremony was beautiful.”

“It was,” Brynn said. “And they’re such a great couple.” They were trying, the both of them. That was clear. She stepped forward in the cake line. “How are things out at the restaurant?”

“We’re closer. Looking at a soft opening next month.”

“The town is excited.” Her eyes were greener than they’d ever been. The dress brought out their color. “Maybe I’ll come out there that week. Check it out early.”

It was the first time either of them had hinted at any sort offriendship or sharing of space beyond happenstance. It was Brynn dipping her toe in the water. So why was Aster’s immediate reaction to retreat?

“Cool.” She looked behind her. “The bar’s getting busy. I better grab my glass of wine quick.” It was the dumbest response ever, but she was operating under duress.

“Right. The bar,” Brynn said. She had her number, and it was dialed to weak.

The night became a bigger struggle than she’d planned. Her heartbreak, an ailment that she’d shelved, was back again in full force. She had a second glass of wine, which these days was a lot for her. Then a third. She wasn’t driving. Why not? The world then slowed down artificially. She could breathe, and the little bit of alcohol erased her terror. It also made her do something stupid.

“We should talk sometime,” she said, leaning down close to Brynn’s ear as she laughed at something Joan said. Why was she doing this? Because why not? What was there to lose? She had a distant idea that she might feel differently in the morning. All the more reason to push through, right?

Brynn looked back at her, struck. She clearly had not been expecting that. Yeah, well. Neither had Aster until a few moments ago. “Okay. We can do that.” She paused and dropped her voice. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Sublime. Enjoy your night.” Aster left them to their laughter, heading for the exit, seeking some air. She could feel Brynn’s eyes on her for the entire walk to the door, and now she was a little embarrassed.

The lights from the ceremony were still on in the distance and called her like a beacon. She walked the thirty yards to the rows of empty white chairs set up for happy people celebrating love. The wine had loosened something in her, and she ran her fingertips across the top of one of the chairs, allowing the whole scene to taunt her. She’d never have this because she’d never have Brynn. There was no one else. She’d tried dating, but the inevitable comparison left her incapable of moving forward with any relationship. Her heart wasn’t in it, and that wasn’t fair to the other person. Not only that, they always knew. Even Nora had backed off after seeing her feelings for Brynn firsthand.

“About that talk…”

“Maybe we could set up a time.” She heard the edge in her voice. She didn’t like it.

“How about right now?” Brynn asked, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

Aster folded her arms. “Now, huh? Okay. So, what’s new?” She smiled at the question. Nothing like a good icebreaker.

“How have you been?” Brynn asked. Only she meant it sincerely. The soft look in her eye, the pity, said she meant since losing her mom.

“Like the world swallowed up the best parts of itself, and now we’re all left to grapple for air.”

“I’m sorry, Aster.”

“I know. For what happened to my family. That’s what you’re sorry for.” It was pointed, and from the look on her face, Brynn knew it.

Brynn sighed. “Aster.” She was searching for words. She still looked so very beautiful, and the moonlight wasn’t helping. None of that mattered, though, because she’d fucking disappeared two years ago. “I was terrified.”

“Of what? Writing a letter?”

“Of getting hurt.”

She nodded. There was a time when she’d carried sympathy for Brynn on that note. She’d screwed up, activated a trigger in someone she loved. “The way I handled things back in Boston wasn’t right. It should have been an argument. A knockdown drag-out even. It didn’t deserve a disappearing act. You left my lifeentirely.” She bit the words out.

“I know.” Tears pooled in Brynn’s eyes. It didn’t matter. The feelings long shoved down were bubbling to the surface, and Aster had no desire or ability to block them.

“You came up with the cruelest punishment possible and inflicted it. I didn’t deserve that.”

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