Page 45 of Chasing Stars
Leo frowns at his sister, then turns back to me while holding up his hands. “Look—Miles has a reputation. I’m not going to pretend he doesn’t. But buying a TV for a girl he’s casually seeing? That’s...not typical Miles.”
“It’s just a little fun—I’m still planning on leaving,” I say, more to convince myself than them. “I can keep my head in the game.” I walk behind the counter and get my travel mug, filled with coffee that I made athomein the pot Miles bought for me. I take a long swig of it, willing myself not to swoon over the fact that someone thought enough of me to buy me a coffee pot.For no other reason than because I didn’t have one already.There I go again. Protecting my heart is going to be harder than I thought.
“Okay. Good. Then do that.” Joy holds up her hands, but there is a disapproving tone to her voice that I don’t love.
“He did ask me to go to a Halloween party at Liam and Sophie’s house,” I say, biting back a smile. “He’s bringing over some couples costume suggestions this afternoon,” I add, just to see their reaction. Their eyes go wide.
“Couples costumes?” Joy’s eyes widen in surprise.
“See. Dude’s whipped,” Leo says, with an I-told-you-so shake of his head.
“Maybe.” I look between them. “But that doesn’t change anything, I’m still leaving.”
“Here we go again,” Joy mutters under her breath.
“And what the hell, why am I not invited to this party?” Leo plants his hands on his hips, feigning offense.
“Don’t ask me. It’s not my party. I’m going to restock,” I say, desperate to leave this conversation.
When I am with Miles, nothing else matters. But when I talk about him with Joy, she dampens my, well, joy. It seems like she disapproves of my new relationship, and she’s one of my only friends here. I think it’s time I call Morgan. She’s the only person left who can talk me off this ledge.
Because Morgan’slife is far busier than mine, I have to schedule time to talk. I curl up on the tweed couch, pull an old afghan over me, and watch the Roku screensaver when my phone buzzes in my hand.
“There she is,” I say, as gleefully as I can muster when I answer the FaceTime call.
“Hi, baby girl.” Morgan sounds out of breath but looks happy.
“Why are you breathing so hard?” I ask, scowling.
“Because I am running away from my husband and babies so I can take this call in peace.” Morgan cackles. “I’m going to sit in my car with the butt warmer on and soak in every last minute of alone time.”
“That sounds nice,” I say, wryly. “Says the girl who has far too much alone time,”
“You don’t sound good, Jenna Banenna. What’s going on? Are those bangs?” Morgan’s expression clouds, and concern flickers across her features as she uses my childhood nickname.
Immediately my eyes well with tears. Maybe it’s talking to someone who reallyknowsme for the first time in a long time, or maybe it’s because I’ve held it all in for nearly a month since probating my mom’s will, but the tears fall fast and furious. Morgan’s face crumbles as I give in to the wave of sadness overtaking my voice. I let myself cry until my breathing stabilizes and I’m able to swallow the enormous lump in my throat. Morgan waits patiently, without asking questions; the way only best friends know how. I haven’t seen Morgan since the funeral, and with how busy she is, I didn’t want to bother her inthe new parent fog. I haven’t even told her what’s been going on. When I calm down enough to suck in a breath, I speak.
“It’s just been a lot. And yes, I got bangs—huge mistake by the way,” I say, my voice catching. “There’s so much I didn’t know. But the gist of it? My mom never sold our house in Cape May after my dad died. It’s been here, closed up since 1997.” I sniffle and wipe away another stream of fresh tears. “I only found out when they probated the will. And since I lost my job, I thought, great—now I can sell it and be okay for a while,” I mumble feeling hopelessly, desperately sorry for myself
Sympathy flashes behind Morgan’s eyes before her jaw falls open in shock. “Wait! You lost your job? Where have I been? When did this happen? Jenna, I’m so sorry. The bangs aren’t that bad.” She leans closer to the camera, examining me, but her eyes are brimming with unshed tears.
I sigh. “The week after the funeral. They couldn’t afford me anymore.” I sniffle. “I didn’t call because you’re in newborn bliss with those sweet babies and you were moving. I didn’t want to bother you. But it all feels too heavy now. I need my best friend.” I look away from my phone, Morgan’s creased brow—caught somewhere between worry and helplessness—is too much for me and I feel the sting of fresh tears all over again.
“Hey,” Morgan says firmly, pointing into her phone. “First of all, you areneverbothering me, Jenna. You hear me? You’re my oldest friend. And it’s more like a newborn haze, ninety percent of the time.” She cracks a smile that relaxes me immediately
I suck in a shaky breath. “I know. But I spent the last few years just…existing for my mom. Doctor’s visits, chemo appointments, round-the-clock care. Which was fine, I wanted to. But everything in my life just sort of stopped. I stopped doing anything for me.” My voice cracks as the weight of admitting this crashes into me. “Now she’s gone, and I have all this free time, and I haveno ideawhat to do with it. I forgot how to be me.”
Morgan nods, leaning her head on the car window. “Okay, so go back. You lost your job. You drove down to the house. I assume that’s where you are now?”
“Yes. But the house wasn’t kept up. Everything was covered with drop cloths. There are termites and it needs foundation work. It’s not in great shape to sell. So I’m just kind of hanging here, working at a hardware store, until I can list it.” I twirl the ends of my hair around my fingers, a nervous habit from childhood.
“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Morgan soothes. “Living by the beach in the fall. Have you made any friends?”
“I ran into my aunt and cousin, Jake. I hadn’t seen my cousin in almost ten years, my aunt in far longer than that. Apparently, we’re going to have dinner soon. I have a million questions, but...” I trail off, my chest tightening. “It’s probably going to stir up a lot—memories of my dad, losing my mom. It feels like a lot.” I flop back on the pillow, suddenly drained.
“I remember Jake from college. Maybe they will have some answers for you,” Morgan suggests. “And maybe while you’re in a new place, you should start putting yourself out there again. You said yourself, it’s been so long since you’ve done anything for yourself. You took care of your mom for a really long time,” Morgan points out, and she’s right.
“That’s the other thing,” I say slowly. “I met a guy.” I fight back the smile on my lips, despite my sadness. Even though I am so excited about what’s happening with Miles, Joy’s reservations steal some of that from me.
