Page 6 of Our Big White Lie
I closed my eyes and sighed as the anger in my chest started to cool. The guilt intensified, though—not because I wasn’t fulfilling my mom’s dream, but because I’d lashed out at my best friend. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t have to figure it out this minute,” Molly said gently. “But… Tori might be on to something. Even if you don’t want to go through with it—and no one would blame you if you didn’t—I think your friend’s heart is in the right place.”
“Yeah,” I admitted as the guilt burrowed deeper. “Yeah, I think it is. And… I don’t know. I want to do everything imaginable for my mom while she’s still alive. I’m just not sure how I feel about this.”
“Well, like I said—you don’t have to figure it out this minute.”
“Thank God for that,” I muttered.
We had to get to work, so we let the subject drop. All the while, as I pored over emails, customer orders, spreadsheets, and all that delightful stuff, I vacillated between wanting to veto Tori’s idea and jump on it.
It really would bring Mom some joy.
But if we did it, we’d have to do it soon—though Mom’s health was relatively stable right now, we’d learned how quickly that could change. If we pulled the trigger, we didn’t have time for a long engagement. I knew people who’d had gorgeous, elaborate weddings planned in the space of a few months or even a few weeks, so I knew it could be done.
One minute, I wanted to text Tori and say,Let’s do it, and then immediately start planning when I got home.
The next, I wanted to tap the brakes and really think about this.
And then I’d remember why we were doing this in the first place, and the urgency would surge forward again because we didn’t have theluxuryof tapping brakes.
By some miracle, I made it through the day without making any catastrophic mistakes at work.
All the way home, though, I still didn’t know what to do besides apologize to Tori.
CHAPTER FOUR
Tori
When Tucker jumped off the windowsill and ran to the front door, my heart went into my throat.
Ava was home.
He recognized her car, and he was always at the door to greet her. It was the cutest thing… usually. Okay, it was still cute—everything he did was cute—but today, his announcement that she was home just made my apprehension worse. I’d barely been able to focus as I worked because Ava was so mad at me, and I didn’t know what to do about that.
For a moment, I was seriously tempted to gather up my laptop and move into my bedroom. I always worked out here because it was cooler and the couch was better for my back, but I wasn’t so sure I could face her today. I was too afraid that my suggestion had done irreparable damage to our friendship. Under normal circumstances, we could fight and be done with it, no harm done. But things hadn’t been normal since Gail got sick, and maybe what I’d suggested—good intentions or not—had hit Ava in a place she couldn’t forgive.
I stayed put, though, and I held my breath as her key turned in the lock.
The door opened. Ava’s eyes flicked toward me, but then she shifted her attention to the cat. She scooped Tucker up into her arms, cradling him on his back like a baby, and cooed to him as he purred so loud he almost shook the house.
Even with all the tension hanging between us, I still couldn’t help but smile as I watched them. Few things melted my heart like someone who adored animals, and I’d loved the way Ava had fawned all over Tucker even before we’d lived together. And for as skittish as Tucker could be with some people, he’d immediately decided Ava was his best friend in the whole world.
If their interactions weren’t so adorable, I might’ve even gotten jealous.
Ava gently put Tucker back on the floor and shifted her attention to me. The second our eyes met, I was overcome with relief. We’d had enough fights over the years that I could read her like a book, and I knew in an instant that the anger was gone. So was the hurt. She was still a ball of conflicted emotions, her shoulders still taut and her forehead still creased, but the storm had passed.
Okay. We could come back from this. It might not be a comfortable conversation, but it wasn’t a disaster. I could live with that.
“Hey,” I ventured. “I, um…”
“I’m sorry I went off on you,” she said as she came around the couch. “I don’t know why I did.”
“You didn’t want to lie to your mom,” I said softly. “I understand. And it was kind of a wild and ridiculous idea.”
“It’s not, though.” Ava eased herself down on the other cushion, and she wrung her hands in her lap. “I thought it was a—well, it doesn’t even matter because it didn’t make sense.” She looked in my eyes. “Your heart was in the right place. It always is.”
The relief almost made me sway. Even though I’d known the worst was behind us, the confirmation that Ava realized I meant well was a huge weight off my shoulders.
