Page 76 of Backslide
Except for a massive dumpster fire.
But I nod, humoring her, as if it’s all simple now. As if Noah and I are capable of getting along, even if he is decent. Even if this was a misunderstanding.
And I am about to exit into the hallway when Sabrina suddenly slams the door shut with me still inside. She turns on me, backing me toward the wall, with pursed lips. I almost trip over a standing lamp.
“What the hell—?”
“One second, young lady!”
“Um. Okay,” I say. “Old lady.”
She points a finger in my face. “What about Alfie?”
“Oh.Oh!” says Rita, her eyes widening again. “What about Alfie? The plot thickens!”
And now it’s my turn to look sheepish. I shrug my shoulders, tilt my head. Scratch at an imaginary itch at the back of my neck.
“We broke up,” I murmur. “There is no Alfie. At least, not in my world.”
“I knew it!” Sabrina celebrates. She turns to Rita: “I told you! I told you something was fishy.”
“Well, he definitely stinks,” I say, collecting my hair in my hands and holding it off my neck for a beat. I need a vacation from this vacation.
“Who’s the liar now, huh?” Sabrina says, dancing in a circle. But then she stops and lays a hand on my good shoulder. “Wait. Are you okay? What happened? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m fine. It happened a little over a month ago. And I didn’t want to make Cara’s celebration all about me.”
“But you could have told meweeksago. I would have helped you. I would have listened. I would have sent you sad-song playlists and trashed his ass. I would have resurrected my campaign to get you to leave New York and move back to LA.”
I smile, a small sad smile. She’s right. I know it. Of course, I should have told Sabrina and Cara. But this private part of me, that’s afraid to share when life goes off track, is strong. It’s hard for me to overcome.
In my house growing up, I was rewarded for being the easy one, the low-maintenance one, the one who never had to be bailed out. That’s my whole identity.
I take a moment to mourn the conversations and support I could have had if I had simply trusted my friends. Let them help.
“I know,” I say, my eyes welling for the umpteenth time on this trip. Though tears are rare in my normal life, I keep landing on Water Works here. “I think sometimes I’m afraid that if I start to talk about one thing, it will all come pouring out.”
“Then let it rain, baby!” Sabrina says, pulling me into a hug.
I sigh, sinking into her arms, into the smell of her figgy perfume, so appreciative of the comfort.
“Sometimes it’s embarrassing,” I say into her hair, so that it’s safe and I don’t have to look her in the eye while I make this admission.
“What is?”
“To be the single one. The one who never seems to make it work. While you guys and Cara and Ben have it so figured out.”
Rita and Sabrina exchange a glance over my shoulder, then start to giggle.
“Look,” says Rita. “We do not have it together. Trust me. We just spent two hundred dollars on cheese.”
“Right,” I say, pulling back. “But you wasted that money together.”
“Well, let’s not go too far. Cheese is never awaste.”
A breeze blows in through the open door to the deck, bringing with it the slightest chill. I think I’ll wear my jean jacket to dinner, sit near the heat lamps.
Rita gives me a hug too, then disappears into their bedroom to get dressed.
