Page 70 of The Bright Side of Brooding
Chapter Thirty
Summer
I’d been off all day. So far off, I needed a new recipe.
But the food turned out well, thank goodness. Sometimes when my mood was too far gone, whatever I touched in the kitchen reflected it. I supposed that, since I wasn’t exactly upset or angry or anything necessarily bad, just overwhelmed and a little fearful, if we’re being honest, I didn’t need to worry about ruining everything I touched.
Usually, cooking helped. I could work my way through whatever problem I faced as I worked through a recipe—chopping garlic, sautéing onions, browning meat, seasoning, combining, rolling, stuffing, baking, whatever. It served to break down the larger issue into bites, and of course I loved the process of cooking so that fired off some endorphins to help things. Tonight, I didn’t feel that kick of clarity that usually set in.
I prepped the appetizers for the oven—they’d go in right as everyone arrived. Just five minutes to crisp them up. Otherwise, everything else was ready and waiting. I shucked my apron, smoothed down my shirt, and glanced out at Mr. Meier’s house. From the kitchen, I could see part of his front walk, his front door, and around to his back door. He’d had a grandchild staying with him the last few weeks, so I hadn’t seen him much.
My phone buzzed, and my heart leapt into my throat. Nick and I would see each other later, no matter how much later. He seemed to know I needed space. Or maybe that was what life with him would be like—never being pushed to face my ridiculous feelings. I doubted that. He was incredibly intuitive, likely because he spent so much time observing and thinking rather than speaking or preparing to speak.
Instead of something else from Nick, it was Ariel. My stomach dropped at her message.
Ariel:“I’m so sorry to do this, but I can’t be there tonight. I’m so sad to miss. Livie won’t make it either. Please forgive me. We’ll get together soon!”
Me:“Are you okay?”
Ariel:“Yeah. Livie’s still not feeling good, and my mom is worn out. Eric’s at a planning conference or something this weekend. I need to stick around here.”
Me:“Of course. Tell Livie we’ll miss her too and to come see me at the clinic Monday if she’s still feeling bad! I didn’t realize she was still in such bad shape.”
Ariel:“You’re the best. Tell everyone hi, and eat some guacamole for me.”
The doorbell rang, pulling me from the conversation. I missed Ariel—and Livie, for that matter—but I also admired Ariel’s loyalty to her family and her sense of duty to them. Maybe that wasn’t quite the right way to put it, but she showed up for them. I’d text Livie later to check in on her—I didn’t realize she hadn’t kicked whatever she’d been dealing with last time we had a girls’ night. For now, I’d focus on enjoying the friends who could come and would hope to see Ariel and Livie sooner than later.
“Come in!” I said, genuinely smiling at finding Bec, Emily, and Katie on my doorstep.
They bustled in, unzipping coats and chatting as they came.
“It’s weirdly cold for end of March. Shouldn’t it be spring?” Bec asked as she hung her jacket and purse.
Emily widened her eyes in exasperation at the weather. “Itisspring—this is spring in Bavaria. It sort of feels like winter except you get freezing rain instead of snow most of the time. But I bet you we have another snow or two before it warms up all the way.”
She wasn’t wrong. Spring was cold and crisp but also lovely. It also meant the summers, compared to many places, were fairly mild.
“That’s just rude,” Bec mumbled, glancing around. “Ariel and Livie running late?”
I took Katie’s jacket for her while responding. “Sadly, no. They can’t come tonight.”
After a few minutes of regretting that reality, I shooed them into the living room. “I’m going to put the taquitos in the oven and grab the drinks. Get cozy.”
I popped the tray in, enjoying the warmth that filled me at having my girls here. I’d needed this. And strangely, admitting that didn’t throw me for a loop. It made me grateful to have friends like this, people I wanted to be around and looked forward to seeing. I’d had friendships, but not a close group in far too long.
I emerged with a tray of margaritas in highball glasses. Not official margarita barware, but as I tended to be on the clumsy side, I didn’t favor stemmed drinkware.
“Those look so good. I’ve been looking forward to this for what feels like forever.” Emily accepted a drink and took a sip, then let out a sigh. “So good. Is it spicy?”
“Yes. You all said you like heat, so it’s a jalapeno margarita. It shouldn’t behot, just a little… tingly.” I wiggled my brows.
They all chuckled. I set the tray down on the coffee table and slipped back into the kitchen to grab a few of the appetizers while Bec spoke.
“Sounds perfect,” she said, taking her glass. “This week—other than spending time with the man I love—has made me anything but tingly.”
We all laughed again, and they each toasted each other. I set several platters down, including the now piping hot and crisp taquitos which I’d been looking forward to all afternoon, on the small table.
Holding my drink, I raised it to the middle of the circle we’d made by sitting in the different spots in my living room. “To friendship and Saturdays.”
