Page 4 of Before You Say Goodbye

“You’re not getting any younger,” he said.

Back-handed nastiness. Despite her experience, Autumn was always surprised by how vicious even the nicest of men could become when they were rejected.

“Goodbye, Thomas,” she said.

And, now, to her delight, that seemed to be that. He hadn’t bothered her since. Autumn had completely forgotten about him until he’d crossed her mind only long enough for her to remember she was supposed to be exhausted. She was surprised to note that Bluebell had stimulated her away from writing and into a level of spontaneity she typically mustered up only when she was searching for satisfaction from men. Continuing their conversation over dinner felt like a splendid idea, though she had no means of paying.

“It’s on me,” Bluebell reassured her.

“Are you sure? I feel awful.”

“Don’t,” Bluebell said. “You can pay next time.”

“Yeah.” Autumn nodded. They hadn’t eaten properly all day. “Let’s do it.”

“I’m not keeping you from creating stuff, am I?”

“No.” Autumn laughed. “I mean, maybe.”

“Screw it.” Bluebell grabbed her hand with effortless and admirable affection. She tossed a twenty-dollar tip on the table, and they left.

* * *

Bluebell took them to a restaurant Autumn had been to before, with a man whose name she could not remember.

“These guys do the best tofu,” Bluebell said, ordering a peanut stir-fry. Autumn asked for the same. “So, what’s the dream?” Bluebell asked.

Autumn thought about that. Her dream was that her second book be at least as popular as her first. She didn’t think any further ahead than that. She didn’t feel as though she had the right to. It was the way she’d always operated and it had worked well for her so far. She lived day to day. If someone had told her three years ago she’d be here, in New York, she wouldn’t have believed them, but she wouldn’t have been surprised, either. She’d learned life had a habit of unfolding when you let it. In the most practical way possible, of course. If you took chances. If you did what was required. If you were in the right place at the right time.Notthrough fate. She didn’t say that last part. Bluebell was wearing a rose-quartz crystal around her neck. Autumn was almost certain her new friend believed in hocus-pocus.

“That’s so fucking cool,” Bluebell said. “I wish I could make stuff. My brothers are musicians and I’m always in awe of the music they make. I just never had that level of talent.”

Autumn smiled. “You’re a good talker. Perhaps you should do something like that.”

“If they paid people to rant, I’d be raking it in.”

“They do,” Autumn said. “You should start a social media page.”

Autumn was serious, but Bluebell laughed.

“The world according to Bluebell,” she said. “Who on earth would pay attention to that?”

“Plenty of people. You’re really interesting.”

“Thank you.” Bluebell chuckled. “My brothers would love it. Marley teases me enough as it is. The louder and more opinionated I get, the more sarcastic he is. I might tell them I’m going to do it later, just for kicks.”

Bluebell talked about her brothers a lot. There was great love between the siblings, Autumn could tell.

“What about love?” Bluebell asked Autumn. “Is there a person on the scene?”

“No.” Autumn shook her head. She hoped Bluebell — who had alluded to same-sex attraction several times — wasn’t interested in her romantically, because Autumn had deciphered that wasn’t the way she felt. “I’ve never had much interest in relationships. They’re a waste of time. People fall stupidly in love for a year or so — adamant they’re more in love than anyone else has ever been — but they all wind up complaining in the end that he or she doesn’t do the dishes.”

Bluebell laughed. “True,” she said.

“I take what I need when I need it. That’s good enough for me.”

Bluebell dropped all chat about romance after that. Autumn was glad. She hated it when women let their love lives consume their conversations. There were so many other more interesting things to talk about. Over dinner, Bluebell regaled Autumn with tales of her family, who sounded entertaining and lovable. Autumn didn’t mention her own family this time and Bluebell didn’t press her. The restaurant was closing by the time theystood to leave. It was the second venue that day to interrupt their relentless friendship-building by pointedly switching off the lights. Autumn was enthralled. This type of platonic obsession had never happened to her before. Bluebell was the most interesting person Autumn had ever met. Funny, clever, friendly and interesting.

But then, as she walked Autumn home, Bluebell blurted something silly.

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