I can’t help but hope for another change of season today.
Mandy is sitting at a corner booth on her cell phone, her eyes lifting when the little bells on the door chime, alerting her of my presence. She stands to face me, then approaches the counter to order our ice cream cones—the birthday tradition we missed in November when I was busy being kidnapped and falling in love with her fiancé.
My throat tightens as we stand shoulder to shoulder and give the clerk our orders. We wait in silence while the treats are made, then handed to us over the counter. Like always, we take a quick bite—hers, strawberry, and mine, cookie dough—and head outside towards the nearby playground. We skip the secret handshake and the selfie in front of the building.
Our go-to swings are vacant as usual, likely due to the melting ice chunks dampening the seats. We swipe our hands over the puddles and sit down, then I wait with nervous anticipation for what happens next. I want to say something to break this belly-churning silence, but words are being elusive, stuck inside me like bubble gum.
I glance over at my sister who is swinging at a leisurely pace to my left. Her hair is in a perfectly coiffed bun on top of her head, her makeup impeccable. Her beauty has always taken my breath away. I never understood why she wanted to hide behind all the heavy foundation, loud colors, and fake eyelashes.
“I cheated on him, you know.”
I almost drop my ice cream cone. “What?”
“Last summer at Allie’s birthday party. Dean had the flu, so I went by myself. I had too much to drink, and…” She licks her hand as melted ice cream drips between her thumb and finger. “It was a huge mistake. I felt like shit. I betrayed a person I truly loved, all because of stupid insecurities—because of this desire to feel wanted and appreciated, even though I already was. I don’t know why it wasn’t enough… I don’t know why he wasn’t enough.”
I’m staring at her, my mouth open wide as ice cream spills onto my lap. I’m stunned by her confession. I don’t know what to say.
“I feel like all of this is karma smacking me in the face. And part of me knew, deep down, I had sealed our fate with that one, stupid decision, even though Dean never found out about it. I just… I never thought it would be you.” Mandy looks over at me, her eyes glossed over and spearing me with both guilt and disappointment. “You’ve always been the strong one. The lucky one. The good one. Everything you worked for, you got. Everything you put your mind to, you succeeded. You had the smarts and the good grades, the quick wit and sense of humor, the respectable job, the house. You have your own house, Cor… you’re not even thirty and you’re killing it.
“I had to take a GED just to pass high school. I’m barely making ends meet at the hair salon. I’ve lived in the same crappy, two-bedroom apartment since college.”
“Mandy…”
“All I had was Dean. He was my only trophy… my only success story.” She inhales a quick breath, then finishes, “I couldn’t handle the fact that you had him, too.”
God.
I’m absolutely dumbfounded, sitting slack-jawed on the swing with ice cream dribbling down my arm. I have to look away before my emotions boil over. “I-I never knew you felt like that. I’ve always had the complete opposite perspective. I’ve envied you my whole life—your beauty, your popularity, your bubbly personality. You always got your way. You were always celebrated and adored… the center of attention. I’ve just been hiding in your shadow.”
An abrupt laugh escapes her. “It’s funny how different things look on the other side.”
I’m not sure how to respond to that, so I sit quietly and process it instead. This whole time, Mandy has been jealous of me? The thought alone is preposterous.
Mandy continues a few minutes later after our truth bombs have sunk in. “This isn’t me forgiving you, Cor,” she says, biting her lip as she stares down at the patches of grass peeking through the melting layer of snow. “Not yet, anyway. I’m not ready… just like I’m not ready to forgive myself for my own actions. But I can recognize the fact that we’re all human and we all screw up. We all make big, messy, life-altering mistakes, and sometimes it’s for selfish, superficial reasons like what I did… and sometimes it’s because the universe throws you a curveball, forcing you in a direction you never saw coming.
“And while I can understand that, Cora, I really can, I just can’t accept it yet. I can’t handle the thought of family dinners with Dean at the table by your side, holding your hand, kissing your lips. I can’t imagine holidays or social gatherings or double dates, or God, becoming an aunt when I thought I was about to become a mother.”
Tears mix with ice cream as I close my eyes, sucking in a breath that singes my throat.
Mandy’s own tears leak out, streaking down her pink cheeks. “But what I can accept is the fact that we weren’t meant to be and what’s done is done, regardless of how or why. Dean deserves to be happy, and if that’s with you, I won’t stand in the way. But I can’t stand by your side either… not now. Not yet. Not until my heart fully heals.” She raises her chin, glancing up at the cloudy sky, one hand holding her cone and the other gripping the swing. “Maybe someday.”
Maybe someday.
I fiddle with the heart pendant around my neck with sticky fingers, swallowing hard, letting her words fill me up. Maybe someday sounds a lot like hope, and hope is all I have right now.
It’s seven P.M. and I’m cuddled up on the couch watching HGTV with Penny in my lap and Jude curled into a ball beside me. It’s almost like I’m expecting his text to come through as I reach for my phone at the same time it zings to life with a new message.
Dean: Can we talk?
We’ve seen each other every Friday night for the past few weeks.
Only, there hasn’t been much talking involved.
Me: Sure. I was thinking the same thing. Can I call you?
Dean: I’d rather talk in person.
Oh. Well, maybe talking is code for sex, after all.
Me: Okay.
Dean: I’ll be over soon
I run into the bathroom to freshen up, taking my hair down, brushing my teeth, and spritzing a few pumps of perfume onto my neck. The dogs alert me of his arrival fifteen minutes later, pawing at the door when he knocks.
“It’s open,” I call out, applying a touch of lip gloss before joining him at the front of the house. Dean is crouched down in the entryway, scratching Jude’s stomach like he always did with Blizzard. Penny is circling his leg, begging for attention that he quickly provides. I can’t help but smile at the image. “Hey.”
He glances up, his expression disguising whatever it is he may be thinking, then he rises to his feet. “Hey.”
Usually, this is the point where we pounce on each other, but since I actually do want to talk first, I’m not sure how to proceed—so, I just kind of stand there, awkwardly playing with my hair and tapping my bare foot against the wood floor.
Dean takes the lead, letting out a sigh as he approaches me. “Thanks for letting me stop by. There’s some stuff I wanted to discuss with you.”