Page 79 of This Is Who I Am

There’s a looseness to her shoulders, like she’s finally exhaled after holding her breath for weeks. She laughs at something Hunter says and tosses her head back, and that small motion—the flash of her throat, the sheen of her skin in the light—makes it impossible for me not to stare at her.

She’s not putting on a show. That’s not her style. She’s just gorgeous, maddening Estelle and I’m trying my best to not come undone by her being here.

We dance with the group, with our friends, and for the length of the song, I forget the past three weeks. Then the beat changes. The tempo drops. The lights dim. Suzy’s not going to like this because she hates them with a vengeance, but it’s time for a slow dance to a romantic song.

Estelle catches my gaze. She steps toward me and, just like that, we move toward each other. As if our bodies can’t possibly imagine doing anything else, her arms curl around my shoulders and mine around her waist. We sway and my cheek brushes the side of her face. Her body fits perfectly against mine—like we’re both exactly where we belong.

We move slowly, the air between us thick with unspoken things. Her hand rests lightly at the back of my neck, her fingertips barely brushing my skin, but I feel them everywhere. I close my eyes and the scent of her pulls me under again. Because I’ve missed her so much.

Not just the shape of her body against mine or how she always knew how to handle me. I’ve missedher. The calm she brought. How she let me feel whatever I needed to, even when it was ugly—especially then. Her patience. Her stubborn and at times incomprehensible kindness. How she took me in her arms with all the love in the world, even when I was drenched in sweat after a hot flash. How could I have let her go? But it wasn’t up to me.

I keep one arm around her waist, the other slides slowly down until our hands meet at our sides. Her fingers curl into mine without hesitation, and it’s the gentlest touch I’ve felt in weeks.

I don’t look at her face. I can’t. If I do, I might very well burst into tears. So I keep my cheek resting against hers and try to memorize this moment: her breath at my temple, the steadiness with which she holds me like nothing ever happened, like we didn’t fall apart.

She squeezes my hand softly. And I realize that no one’s ever made me feel more at ease when I didn’t have it together. No one’s ever held my mess with such grace. I press my palm flat against her back and pull her just a little closer—like I never want to let her go again.

CHAPTER38

ESTELLE

I never want this dance to end, because I have no idea what comes after. Cass might be appalled by what her body made her do—push herself so close to me. She might remember how I cast her aside—how my fear cast her aside—and say, “thanks, but no thanks, I’ve had enough of that.”

Before our breakup, the loneliness, the anxiety, and the too familiar feeling of being misunderstood all combined to put me on the defensive. I shouldn’t have got my hackles up; I should have waited to see where Cass and I might go, because all of my anger and loneliness was nothing compared to how I felt in Berkeley. Far away from her.

My brain spun it into me missing Clearwater Bay and all that came with it—the friendship and the surf and that warm feeling of being home—but what I really missed was Cass. What I really missed was this. My arms around her, our fingers interlocked, and that dizzy sensation in my belly when I’m with her without worrying.

The music stops abruptly and someone taps a microphone. Reluctantly, I let go of Cass. She looks at me sheepishly but there’s no time for an emotional aftermath of our dance, because Suzy’s brother, Sam, wants to make a speech.

“Sorry about that tender moment, Sis,” Sam says. “I promise it won’t happen again.” Everyone laughs while Suzy pulls a horrified face.

Sam speaks for a few minutes, then hands the mic to Sadie, whom I’ve seen more in a wetsuit than in regular clothes. I can’t wait for surf club on Monday.

I’m an only child so I’ll never know what it feels like to have siblings speak about you the way Sam and Sadie speak of their sister. Suzy is positively beaming when it’s her turn.

I glance at Cass as she watches her friend address the crowd. She’s gorgeous with that huge smile on her face and her eyes all lit up like that. She looks like someone I don’t want to run away from ever again. Even though what I told her earlier is true. I’ve always been a done-is-done kind of person. Life has made me so. I never go back for a second helping of hurt, for more of not being good enough. But I came back for her.

I can only hope she’ll have me.

To no one’s surprise, Suzy’s speech is funny and ambling and long, but you only turn fifty once and it makes me think of my own fiftieth birthday later this year. All I want for that birthday is to be able to spend it with Cass. To make it that far with her. I have a long way to go, because we’ve only danced together so far. I haven’t won her back yet, but I will try my utmost to make it happen.

We all give Suzy the generous applause she deserves. And of course I think about that time she came to see me, worried that I might hurt her friend. And I did hurt Cass. But I’m here to undo that.

“Hey, girl.” Bobby grins at me. “Give it up for Bobby, please.” He holds up his hand for a high five.

Confused, I slap my palm against his.

“I sent you that message for a reason,” he says. “I was so subtle about the whole thing, I can barely believe it myself, but you’re here. You came. All it took was one picture of me.” He winks at me.

I chuckle, more than happy to give him credit for what he did. He’s right. If he hadn’t texted me about the party, the thought might not even have occurred to me to come.

“That was some next-level nudging,” I admit.

Bobby leans toward me, all divine pink campness, and whispers in my ear, “Now go get your girl, damn it.” He follows up with the kind of Bobby-hug I could grow accustomed to.

I glance around for Cass but she’s chatting with the guest of honor. I have time to get my girl. I’m not going anywhere.

“Hey, stranger.” Devon only needs a crisp white shirt to look dazzling. “Welcome back.” She opens her arms to me and I gladly step into her embrace. As she holds me, I think that, even in the best possible scenario, I could not have dreamed of such a warm welcome.

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