Page 34 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?
Her mom frowned. “About that. We were talking, and our schedule is going to be jam-packed on the days we’re there. Plus, Tom and Susan and Bill and Margaret will be with us.”
Her father frowned, too. “We’re so sad, but I’m thinking it’s not going to be the best time.”
“Oh,” Ella said, her heart squeezing uncomfortably. “That’s totally okay,” she said, brightening. “I was only going to come if it was convenient.”
“You are the most considerate,” her mom said, hand to her heart. “I raised the sweetest girl. Oh! And we want to send you a little something, so text me Rachel’s address.”
“Unless you’re so ahead of the game that you’ll have a place soon,” her dad said.
Ella closed her eyes, a part of her deflating because there was no way. “Not quite there, yet, Dad, but I do have some irons in the fire, as you used to say.”
“I love it.” He glanced behind them and yelled. “We’ll be right over. Don’t toast yet. James, I’m warning you.” Laughter ensued. Ella tried to smile along, but hers felt wobbly at best.
“We’d better run,” her mom said. As an afterthought, she dropped her shoulders. “I’m so sad London didn’t work out.”
“Me, too,” Ella said. Her hand was shaking. That was weird. She used her free one to steady her wrist so they wouldn’t notice. “Maybe we can pick another date. Some other city.” Her dad was already gone. He’d run off after their friends had jovially shouted something in the background.
“That is the best idea. Let’s both brainstorm. Send me that address. I love you to the stars.”
“I love you, too. Don’t eat too much chocolate.”
“Can you imagine? Bye!” And then she was gone, leaving Ella in the kitchen, still shakily holding the phone in front of her.
“Everything okay?” Rachel asked quietly. She’d slipped back into the kitchen at some point, work clothes now gone.
Ella turned to her, her eyes filling. “Yeah. For sure.”
“No, it’s not,” Rachel said quietly.
Ella shook her head, a crumpled mess. “It’s stupid. I don’t know why I’m getting all?—”
Rachel’s arms were instantly around her, holding on tight. “It doesn’t matter why, but I’ve got you.”
Her throat ached, and her tears spilled hot and plentiful, making her every bit as embarrassed as she was sad. Her parents didn’t want to see her. In fact, the idea of her joining them for even a few days seemed like an awful inconvenience. She didn’t understand what it was about her that made her such an afterthought. Why was she so very inconsequential to the people she invested in?
Rachel guided her to the couch and plopped down next to her. “Sometimes a girl has to cry, right?”
Ella nodded, her voice not quite available yet. Rachel didn’t seem to mind and even took the lead, chattering away, which allowed Ella the space to breathe and compose herself.
“I remember the last time I cried at work. It was two weeks ago when I’d been pushing myself so hard and working too many hours that my coping skills were drilled down to nubs. I knocked over my Venti half-caf oat milk caramel macchiato before I’d even gotten a second sip. The whole thing just gone. I wailed, channeling my inner three-year-old.”
Ella wiped her cheeks as she listened, a small smile forming like a flame flickering to life in the dark. “That’s awful,” she mumbled, imagining the tantrum.
“I wanted to throw things at the wall. I would have if I didn’t share it with Ben the Backstabber.”
That’s right. She’d heard of Backstabbing Ben. He wore the tightest pants in the East and heated salmon in the microwave. “You should have done it anyway. The salmon infraction alone would exonerate you.”
“Damn right I should have,” Rachel said, handing Ella a tissue from a box on the end table. “Now, what’s made you cry tonight?”
Ella sighed, ready to speak on it. She appreciated Rachel giving her the space to find her way there. “I was supposed to visit my parents in London in a few weeks.”
“I remember. You were shopping for that plaid raincoat. I still vote for the blue and red.”
“Well, they don’t think my coming is the best idea.” She shrugged, embarrassed for even her best friend to hear that.
Rachel closed her eyes and shook her head. “Your parents can be selfish assholes.”
Ella’s brows flew to her forehead, and she laughed. “Tell me how you really feel.”
