Page 8 of Weekends with You

“Don’t sound so gutted, pet. We’re doing the best we can. Besides, I don’t want you to feel like you have to work here if you don’t want to.”

I bristled. “I hate that you always say that. You know I’d never leave.” It was something I’d been saying for what felt like ages, but every so often I had to reconsider its truth. “Will you at least think about it?” I pressed. “It’s been so long since I’ve asked you in earnest. The least you can do is humor me.” I put my hands together, all but begging on my knees.

“Only if you promise not to look so disappointed if theanswer doesn’t change,” she said, her soft smile nearly reaching her eyes.

“Deal.”

She was tough, but she was a woman of her word. Consideration was better than nothing. And since she didn’t seem to be worried about the business, maybeIdidn’t need to worry so much about the business. Or maybe that was exactly why I needed to worry about the business.

“And Lucy,” she said, halfway out of the studio and into the office, “make sure you make room for loves that aren’t work. I’m proper chuffed you love it here as much as I do, but make sure it doesn’t become your only love, will you?”

I contemplated protesting, but what was there to say? I hadn’t been on a proper date in what felt like years, but surely that wasn’t because of work. Everyone spent a lot of time at work now, didn’t they? Wasn’t that how we all afforded to live in London?

“Consider it sorted,” I said, matching her soft smile. She tutted, suggesting she didn’t believe me, and I didn’t blame her. I wasn’t exactly convincing.

“Come over for Yom Kippur this week,” she said, changing the subject. She sipped her tea and studied me from head to toe, and I already knew I had no choice but to say yes. Not that I had other plans for the holiday, what with my parents being back in the States. “You could use a good meal and some time with family. You’re looking a little gaunt.”

“I’m fine,” I laughed. This was not the first time she had declared I looked unwell, when I was, in fact, just vaguely sleep deprived or hungover or not wearing any makeup.

“Humor me, then.”

“Deal.” I knew I might face more grandmotherly ridicule over a meal, but Renee was practically family, so I was lookingforward to the holiday regardless. It would be nice to get out of the house and to eat a home-cooked meal for once.

I returned to my work and busied myself with an apology bouquet. I pulled together rich purple bundles of verbena, imagining how they’d look lining a walkway in someone’s expansive home garden. I could pair them with periwinkle sea holly and turn the whole garden into a watercolor, cool colors dripping into one another under a gray September sky.

Instead, I wrapped them in cellophane, wedging a note inside that read, per the client’s instructions:Babe, sorry I was a right wanker. I’m done being shit. Please forgive me. Xx

Not every story was inspiring.

By the time I managed to pull myself from the shop and return to the flat, movie night preparations were in full swing. The projector in the living room was up, a case of beer sat in the middle of the coffee table, and every throw blanket in the flat was strewn across the couches and the floor.

“Lucy, perfect timing,” Raja said as soon as I walked in the door. “Go put on some sweats and meet me in the kitchen. It’s our turn to do the takeaway order.”

“I thought it was Finn’s turn?”

“Well, technically it is, but he’s rubbish at it, so we’re taking over. It’s bad enough he gets to pick the film, so it’s the least we can do. For everyone’s sake.”

There was hardly a moment to breathe in this flat, but living with Raja in college hadn’t been much different. And the pace did distract me from work-related stress, so I couldn’t complain. Maybe this was why she was so happy all the time.

I inspected a pair of joggers I’d worn around my room for the past two nights for any evidence they weren’t fresh, but they passed the test. Paired with a knotted white tank and an open corduroy shirt, I hoped I looked sort of cozy-chic. I let myhair loose from the claw clip that kept it out of my eyes while I worked, stared at the frizzy mess around my shoulders, then wrestled it right back into the clip. That would have to do.

“Margot, Cal, Jan, and Finn managed to actually respond to the group text, so we have their orders,” Raja said as I padded into the kitchen. “That just leaves you, me, Jan, and Henry,” She handed me a crinkled, stained menu for a local Thai spot, making me laugh. It was so old school. Who still looked at a paper menu instead of a digital copy? And who actually needed a menu for Thai? Didn’t we all get attached to something like pad see ew in uni and order only that for the rest of our lives?

“Wanna run upstairs and get orders from the boys? They aren’t answering my texts,” Raja said.

“Are your legs broken?” I teased, before clocking that Henry was part of “the boys.” When she looked at me with raised brows, I snapped my mouth shut. “Okay, I’m on it,” I said, already on my way out of the kitchen.

Henry’s door wasn’t closed all the way, so when I knocked it swung open.

“Oh god, sorry,” I said. “I meant to just knock. I didn’t mean to barge in here like that.”

He laughed and turned his desk chair to face me, long legs stretched in front of him. “Good thing you barged in now while I was just editing some photos. If you’d come in a few minutes ago, I’d have had some explaining to do.”

My shock must have been palpable because he put his hands up in surrender. “I’m kidding, Lucy.”

“Right, of course,” I said, trying to shake it off. To be cool. “I was just coming for your takeaway order. Raja and I are about to call that Thai place, and we’re just missing yours and Jan’s.”

“Ah, shit. Right. Forgot to answer the text. Let me come look at the menu.” I tried to suppress a laugh but couldn’t contain it for the life of me. “Something funny?” he asked, clearly bemused.

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