Page 7 of Independence Bae

“Oh Ivy!” Hillary turned to her friend, her voice full of earnest appeal, “You should book them at Joie de Vivre!”

Marley caught my eye over her water goblet. Relief so clearly broadcast in her eyes that I felt a million feet tall for pushing back against Ivy for her.

Hillary turned back to the two of us, she continued to gush, “It’s literally down the street from your hotel. You can walk there. I’m sure Ivy could pull a string or two and get you one of the samples.” Hillary practically clapped like an excited seal when she heard about our shopping plans.

“Consider it done.” Ivy smiled, clinking her water goblet against Marley’s in toast. Marley’s blush turned from mortified to pleased.

“That’s so nice of you! I honestly am so lost now that I don’t have my mom’s dress to fall back on.”

“I’ll call ahead and make sure you get the very best consultant on staff. Trust me, once you go to Joie de Vivre you won’t want to shop anywhere else.”

After the roll outof the offer and discussion of plans, the rest of lunch was pretty standard. We learned Hillary and Bert have been married for almost ten years and have five children. The last child, Griffin, they nick namedFinbecause Hillary scheduled a vasectomy for Bert shortly after her C-Section. Ivy and her husband Cain focused on growing the company business, especially now that she was steering at the helm, which interestingly enough covered a multitude of companies outside of broadcasting and journalism. Cain, Ivy told us, headed up the community outreach portion of the company and handled their philanthropic endeavors. While they had vested interest in the arts and sciences, their main foci was female cancers and access to healthcare, as well as alcohol prevention and education. Cain had been paramount in the successful lobbying of intervention programs for people who were caught driving under the influence.

I never knew Bear to succumb to flattery, but he and Bert hit it off from the onset and had happily chatted about bands, legendary stories, and played a pissing contest ofwho knows the most archaic piece of rock trivia.Poor Penn. He is ledger books and profit loss statements. Listening to Bear and Bert droll on about rock’s most under rated or unappreciated albums, couldn’t have been very interesting subject matter for him. He hung on like a champ though. Inside though, he had to have been falling asleep with boredom.

“I want to be respectful of the two of you,” Bear said to Marley and Penn in the Escalade on the way to the hotel. “This is the first time that Raven and I have other people to consider. We’ve always just circled together and discussed where we were at professionally and in our lives. Now there are four people to consider instead of two. So why don’t we unpack, decompress, and then Raven want to meet me like in the hotel bar at say, three o’clock?”

Penn’s watch glinted in the sunshine as he turned his wrist to gauge the time, nodding in consent. The hired car rolled up to the Waldorf. Except, it wasn’tquitethe Waldorf. It was the Elysian—the Waldorf’s bougie sister, which contained private residences of Chicago’s elite. The doorman jogged out to greet us and informed us that they had just put the final touches on the room, and to enjoy with Ms. Hursch’s compliments. He led us to an elevator, pushed the “PH” button, typed in a code and we were spirited up to the most incredible condo I’d ever laid eyes on, and let’s not forget I lived in Manhattan for a significant span of time.

“Oh, shit.” Marley summed up my thoughts perfectly. “This is a penthouse, penthouse. Like someone lives here.”

“My guess is someonelivedhere and now keeps it as an income property or perhaps uses it for out-of-town guests.”

“I’d like to be an out-of-town guest with a set up like this.” Bear upon exiting the elevator had beelined it to the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked Lake Michigan and Navy Pier. Unobstructed views, might I add. The back of the building sat on the beach. It wasn’t a stone’s throw from the beach, or across a busy street from the beach—no looking down, there was a pool, a stone fence, and then sand and lake. “Kind of makes you wish you’d have brought a bathing suit, doesn’t it?”

His face at that moment was so earnestly boy like, it actually hurt to look at him. Not because he was too cute, or too sweet or anything romantic, but because he and I couldn’t be any closer if we were blood relatives. We told each other everything. Yet, the first person I’d wanted to celebrate and unpack this with wasn’t him. It ached. It shed light on a fact that we always knew would happen someday. Bear and Raven would eventually grow up, find other people, and separate. We’d had conversations about “if” in the general sense—especially this year. However, it had always been hypothetical. Now we stood face to face with that reality.

“You look like you just heard your mom put your dog to sleep.”

Penn handed me a vodka tonic. Thankfully the condo was well stocked. I tried to sip like a lady but ended up clearing in two needy gulps. Upon realizing we were in a condo and not a hotel, each couple took to a different wing to unpack—both literally and figuratively—the day.

“This will change things, significantly.”

I’d curled on the chaise in our bedroom, which had equally as spectacular views as the living room, except facing the city. I could easily fall in love with this city, and casually wondered if accepting an offer would mean a move to Chicago.

“It depends on the things you’re worried about changing,” Penn countered. “You and I are solid and that won’t change regardless of where our return address label is.”

“Before I even thought to discuss things with Ted—you were literally the first thought in my head after looking at that offer, Penn.” I had to swallow around the ball of emotion that appeared out of nowhere.

When he smiled, it was as if we’d never left New Castle. In those full lips and perfectly symmetrical teeth, I could practically hear the rush of the water against the shoreline, the sounds of hair bands on the radio in Penn’s convertible, and smell the briny scent synonymous with living in a beach town.

“And you’re upset that you thought of me first?”

“No, not that specifically,” I told him, watching as he crossed the room and grabbed the pitcher, he’d remembered to bring into the room with us, refilling my glass. “Ted has been my sole confidant for over thirteen years now. Anything that happens in my life, he’s the first one to know about it. In the course of four months times, he’s been shifted to second place.”

I was afraid to even give voice to that last sentence.

“And?” Penn prodded as if he could read my mind.

“I think Ted and I are growing apart.”

He joined me on the chaise, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against his chest.

“First of all, Tillie Raven—I’d say we probably tie for first. He knows shit about you before it happens sometimes.”

The softness of his lips kissed away the protest he seemingly knew was about to be voiced. “You have a long history together and he’s your best friend. I’m neither upset nor threatened by him being in your life. It’s fine. My point was that you two are as thick as thieves. I swear sometimes I feel like I need a dictionary of your inside jokes, so I don’t feel like an outsider. You’re not growing apart sweetheart, you’re just growing up. Ted has Marley, and I’ve tattooed you on my heart, so you know I’m not going anywhere. Your friendship is just changing—not terminating.”

“This contract though.”

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