Page 7 of Embers in Our Past

“What do you mean?” I feign innocence and stupidity, apparently. “You and I both know I’ve been back a year. Why are you asking me this now?”

“I’m not stupid. You know what I mean. I gave you the year, but we’re done now. Why are you still here? I honestly thought you would have pulled your head out of your ass already.” Right then, I start laughing, thinking this is some kind of joke, but when she doesn’t join me, I realize she’s not kidding.

“Oh, you’re serious right now?” It comes out as a question, even though I know it’s not.

“As a heart attack. Abby, I know what happened between you and Clay. I get it, sweetie, it sucks.” She grabs my hand and squeezes. The sympathy in her eyes seizes my heart.

“ I get it. You were hurting. You are still hurting. Honestly, I assumed you just needed space. I thought you’d get here and then spend a few nights in your childhood home and book the next flight back to Clay. I didn’t think you’d last a week back with Collette. I mean, let’s be real, that woman is a pain in my ass, and she’s not even related to me.” She laughs because she and my mom mix like oil and water. They have never gotten along.

Marissa continues, “But then you never left.” I look over at her in shock. “No, no, no, that came out wrong. I don’t mean that like I want you gone. I mean, I just thought you wouldn’t want to stay here because of your overbearing mother.” She pauses and considers how that sounded. “I guess nothing I’m saying sounds right, but honestly, no matter how I phrase it, your mom has a stick up her ass on the best days, Abby.” She pats my hand, and I laugh.

“Please, just let me get this out. I love you, Abby. I love you like I love the law. Even so, I think you need to leave. California isn’t for you.” I gasp, and she rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on, don’t give me that. It’s no shock to you. You hate it here. Everywhere you go, you compare it to Boston. So don’t give me that fake gasping charade because we both know I’m not lying. I’m stating facts here. You want to tell me you walked through this restaurant, and a part of you didn’t think of Boston?”

She eyes me for a second, and I roll my eyes. As if proving her point, she sits up taller and says, “Exactly. Plus, I rehearsed this already, so I’m not wrong.” I roll my eyes again because I know she probably has a typed-up sheet in her purse with actual bullet points listed.

“You gave this a shot. You put in your best effort. You made this mistake. Now it’s time to go back home. Not here, but back to Boston. This didn’t work out. California Abby isn’t your look, sweetie. I love you, but this is a no-go for you, babe.” She pats my hand.

“I really have no clue how to respond to this conversation.” Seriously, is this the right way to speak to your best friend? I mean, don’t long-distance besties ache for their friends to move back?

“Yes, usually they do, but I’m not longing for this version of you.”

Fuck, did I say that last part out loud?

“In case you’re wondering, yes, you did ask that last question out loud. If you were out here living life to the fullest, trying to find your zest for life again, I'd support it. Heck, even if you were just going to therapy while you try to process your grief for the life you lost, I'd be all for it. But you aren't. You're moping around, feeling sorry for yourself and trying to avoid your mom.

“But really, why did you come out here? And are you really living the dream here? Are you getting what you want out of this life? Because from what I’m seeing, you’re not. You’re just living in an apartment alone, with Collette invading your space half the time. Or most of the time, right?”

I look away, and she laughs. She knows my mom is over way too often.

“I’m not going to agree with you, but I won’t disagree with you. And I promise to give it some thought, okay? But I can’t just keep flip-flopping from state to state on a whim. I have to make this decision and stick to it. I mean, it took a lot for me to leave Boston to begin with. To return, it will have to be forever,” I say.

“That leads me to my next line of questioning,” she says, and I can’t help the moan that escapes. “Don’t whine; it’s unbecoming. What about Clay?”

“What about Clay?” I ask.

“What about rekindling that old flame? Have you thought of that?” This isn’t the first time Marissa has brought this up in the last year. She is obsessed with Clay. She isn’t attracted to him. But, like my brother, she is not over the fact that I got a divorce.

“Marissa, I told you we are no longer together. He and I have moved on in different directions.” I pull my hands apart to emphasize my point.

“Oh please, you haven’t done anything. Have you even seen another dick since Clay?”

“Marissa, voice down!” I whisper-yell. Why do I choose a friend who’s so crass?

“Come on. We’re in LA. No one gives a shit. Penis. Dick. Vagina. Fuck. Pussy. No one cares.” She sips her martini and rolls her eyes. Motherfucker.

“I honestly don’t see why I have to answer this line of questioning,” I tell her, looking to the side as I sip my mimosa.

“The fact you’re avoiding eye contact is answer enough. Listen, I don’t give a shit if you’ve fucked the entire western hemisphere, but you’ve always had a hard-on for Clay, and he’s only had eyes for you. So, tell yourself whatever you’d like, but you love him. You still want him. This is still the person you’re supposed to be with, Abby!” She is so goddamn stubborn.

“Marissa, can we drop it?”Ugh! Why is she pushing this today?I mean, really. First the move back, and now this? Why is she being such a pill?

“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t push you to see right from wrong. I could be a shit friend, but I don’t think they make key chain hearts that say BSF: Best Shit Friend.” She laughs at her own lame joke. To accentuate the point, she holds up her key chain with her half of the BFF charm she still has, the ratty BFF portion of the heart I gifted to her years ago still holding strong. I can’t help the snort I return at her ridiculousness.

“You’re such a smart-ass,” I toss back at her.

“Oh, you love me.” She continues to laugh. “Just fucking admit that was a good one. I think I’m going to make us that key chain, too, just for fun. Even though it doesn’t apply because I’m fucking awesome.” She moves her glass to cheers.

I cheers her because she is right about one thing, I do love her more than anything. Marissa is the one person I will always lean on, no matter what. I won’t ignore what she’s saying about Boston because it’s been on my mind more often than not. I’ll let it sit in the back of my mind for a little while. Maybe going back should be something I’ll consider in the future. Being back here isn’t bringing the new beginning I was hoping for.

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