Page 83 of One for the Road
“Well, that’s bullshit,” she finally says.
I gawk at her.
“The him needing you thing,” she clarifies. “That wasn’t a fair thing to say. He didn’t just needyou. In order for a relationship between you two to work, he needed you to be sure and committed to a future together. You weren’t in a position to give that to him, so you left. That’s a brave thing to do. Forcing yourself to stay in something you weren’t ready to be in would have hurt you both.”
I nod and let that sink in.
“Is that what happened with you and Cole?”
“Kind of. I...” She trails off and starts playing with her wedding ring. “It sounds stupid and cheesy, but I think even through all those years of hurt and distance and confusion between us, we always knew, somewhere deep down, that we would find our way to each other. We did have to take some time apart, though. Sometimes that’s the only way to grow.”
A family walks by in front of our bench. The dad is pushing two babies in a stroller that have to be twins, a third kid running around both the parents with a giant cookie from one of the food trucks in her hands.
She spots Roxanne and I and stops so fast she almost falls over.
“Maman!” she starts shouting, pointing right at me. “Maman! Regard ses cheveux!”
She keeps telling her mom to look at my hair over and over again, calling me a princess and begging to have pink hair just like me. The mom tries to get her to move on, but she stands there with her cookie, refusing to move.
Roxanne and I are laughing and waving at her. I decide to get up off the bench and say hi.
“Hello there,” I say in French, crouching down so we’re almost eye to eye.
Her mouth turns into a big ‘O’, and she blinks at me before whispering, “Are you a princess?”
“Not exactly,” I tell her, “but sometimes my hair makes me feel like a princess.”
I reach up and squeeze one of my space buns. The little girl gasps.
“Can I touch your hair?”
Her fingers are covered in melted chocolate and cookie crumbs, but I still bend forward enough for her to grab onto my hair. She tries to smooth a few loose strands into place before giggling and backing away.
“Maman, she’s a princess!” she screams as she runs back to her parents.
I look up and see the mom mouthingmercito me before they all move on.
Roxanne has this sappy look on her face when I get back to the bench. “That was adorable!”
“She wastrès mignon,” I agree.
“You should have hair dyeing business cards,” Roxanne jokes. “You could have scored yourself a new client there.”
“Hmm.” I tap my chin and pretend to think about it. “Seems like she wanted to steal my look, though.”
We watch the crowds pass by for a few minutes. I know she was only joking, but Roxanne has the wheels of my brain turning.
“Maybe this is a weird thing to say,” she announces, “but I just want you to know I’m really proud of you. I know it all seems hard and maybe even a little pointless right now, and not that you need my affirmation, but I think you made the right choice. I’m really excited to see where you go from here, and I’ll be here to cheer you on.”
I lean in and throw my arms around her.
“Merci, ma belle.” I pull back, grinning ear to ear as I think of the little girl’s face lighting up when she saw my hair. “I’m excited too.”
Twenty-Three
Zach
FROST: the act of freezing a glass to create a layer of frost before pouring a drink inside
