Page 105 of The Rebound
“When did you get so wise?”
She smiles serenely. “When you have kids you’ll under—”
“Oh, shutup.”
“A mother knows.”
“I knew you’d turn into one of those people. Holier than thou because you have a kid.” I lean back, sinking farther into the tub. “You’re going to be so annoying.”
“I’ll try.” She takes a breath, easing her neck from one side to the other. “I’m ready to get out of the bathtub now.”
“Thank God.”
But neither of us move.
“You have to go first,” I say, holding on to her calf, which is atop of mine.
“Right.” She stares at it for a moment. “It’s just I’m going to get pins and needles and—”
I roll my eyes, carefully extracting myself from under her and then, more awkwardly than either of us would like, I climb out before helping my stupid, stiff-limbed, pregnant, beautiful big sister do the same.
22
We’re both asleep on the couch by the time Tomasz pulls into the driveway. It’s the beam of his headlights that wake me, sweeping over the front of the house. Louise doesn’t stir, so I
drape a blanket over her, and creep upstairs to my bed, leaving them to talk. The next morning I wake early and go for a run. It’s the best one I’ve had in weeks. Months maybe. And I barely notice the time pass as I do a second loop through the town, only stopping when Louise calls me home for some celebratory pancakes, and who am I to say no to that?
Both she and Tomasz are ecstatic, barely able to keep the smiles off their faces, even when they both swear me to secrecy until they know everything’s okay with the baby. Their happiness distracts me from the whirlwind of the day before and it’s not until that evening when I take advantage of the good weather to go for a stroll that I remember what Luke had said about talking to Beth.
The reason I remember is because I meet her outside the café just as she’s closing up and at the sight of me she stops and she stares and I know he did it. And I actually feel a little scared. As in clammy-hands, stomach-twisting scared. All I want to do is turn and run away, which is ridiculous. I’ve faced scarier people than Beth.
Except I haven’t, have I?
Because the people in the office were nameless, smirking men and part of my whole thing there was the element of surprise. No one expects the small Irish girl to stand up to them, to talk back.
But this is different. This is Beth. I know Beth. I like Beth. And instead of being a friend to her, I broke her heart and betrayed her confidence and now I don’t even know how to say I’m sorry.
The moment I open my mouth to try she turns and walks away and my heart drops, disappointment and guilt flooding through me, but she barely takes two steps before she stops, whirling to face me again.
“You go,” I say when neither of us says anything.
“I talked to Luke,” she says. “About everything. I’m sorry I didn’t come see you sooner. I’m just so embarrassed.”
I stare at her. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“But just thethoughtof you feeling guilty for liking him and that I might have been the reason that you two didn’t try and be together ishorrible.”
“Beth—”
“I mean, that’s what I get for not thinking before I speak. I just talk, talk, talk and I’m so sorry you didn’t think you could—”
“Would you stop?” I snap. “Just for once in your life would you stop being you?”
She pauses. “I don’t understand.”
“Stop being nice and apologizing to me when I should be the one saying sorry.”
“I’m sorry.”
