Page 34 of Win Some Love Some
I pulled myself off the couch and made my way to the kitchen, where my mom still kept all of our mail in a large bowl I’d made in a Girl Scouts pottery thing. It was lopsided and painted a terrible green, but Mom loved it.
I pulled out three large square envelopes in varying shades of cream. My name was on them in fancy script.
No. Oh no.
I opened up the first one. A wedding invitation from a high school friend. Same with the second one. The third one was my camp counselor friend from my summers spent in Vermont.
“Three weddings!” I screeched.
Like, stab me in the gut, thrust hot pokers in my eyes, and dangle me over a pit of snakes. I was going to have to go to three weddings in the next few weeks? I had no money, I had no clothes and my life was in the absolute shitter right now. The last thing I wanted was to be front row to other people’s happily ever after.
“Kill. Me. Now.”
“Hey,” Dad said, watching me over the back of the couch. “They’re your friends. They want you to share their day. It isn’t about you. It’s about them.”
The thing about Dad – he was a world class grump, but never an asshole.
“Ugh. Stop reminding me the world doesn’t revolve around me.”
Mom kissed my dad on the top of his head and walked over to put her arms around me. “Oh, Nora. I know you feel like you’re in the depths of hell being back home and your life is completely off track, but I can’t help it, I’m just so happy you’re here. I missed my baby girl.”
“I missed you too. I really did. Even Dad.”
“Hey,” he barked. “I’m right here.”
He winked at me and I smiled because giving each other grief was our love language.
“Okay. I’m happy my friends are getting married. I’m going to show up at Petite III first thing tomorrow to see if I can get work which will help me pay for the wedding presents I’ll need to buy and the dress I’ll need to find that I will have to wear to three weddings.”
My mom hugged me tight. “You know I can he-”
“Don’t say it,” I stopped her. “No helping. I can do this myself.”
6
Nick
Ilooked up from under the hood of the car I was working on and spotted Nora walking across the town square.
Again.
True to her word, after dropping her off yesterday and heading back to my garage, I’d watched all day as she visited store after store, looking more dejected after each visit.
Not that I’d been watching her all day. Not like that.
It was just jarring. To look up and see her there when it felt like she’d been gone for so long. It was like looking at a ghost. Or a memory. But that was her, stomping across the square in jeans and a tight purple sweater and muttering to herself.
I’d forgotten how beautiful she was. Dark hair that fell just around her shoulders, always a little wavy like it had a life of its own. Cute little pug nose dotted with freckles from growing up along the coast of the Atlantic Ocean.
And her eyes. Dark rich brown that would cut right through a man’s bullshit.
She wasn’t the girl I knew. This version of Nora was grown up, heartbroken and life sick. The essence of her – of joy and amusement and delight – that typically danced around her like fireflies on a hot summer night, seemed faded.
This version of Nora didn’t skip or hop when she was excited. She didn’t laugh like the world was the funniest thing ever. There wasn’t a smile curving the corners of her mouth. She wasn’t making everyone around her brighter and better just because she was there.
That’s what I remembered most about her and what I missed when she was gone. How she used to make me feel. Like I was infected with her joy. Happier because she was happy around me. I couldn’t acknowledge it to myself, not until she’d left for college, then France. I’d been addicted to that feeling.
I’d counted on it like I did Birdie’s unwavering faith and Antony’s steady guidance.
