“Only three,” Becky pipes up, holding up three fingers. “If you do all four, insurance will cover them. Three, and it’s all on him.”
“Uhm, ladies?” Simon says uneasily. He’s looking at his wife with suspicion. “I don’t want to know why you know that, so how about we just sing some more?”
“Veto,” Arielle sings.
“No fun,” Loretta argues.
Becky laughs and gives her husband a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t worry, honey, we’re just helping Riley feel angry. Just a bit of ‘I am woman, hear me roar’ fantasizing. We’re not actually going to start playing choppy-choppy anytime soon.”
“As long as you boys behave,” Arielle warns them, and Eli gulps.
But then Arielle and Eli share a secret smile.
It should make me smile, seeing their playful banter, but I can’t feel much more than a bland emptiness as Loretta, Becky, and Arielle pass the microphone around, taking turns and singing.
When it’s my turn, I don’t have a song. Or the strength to sing, especially after hitting the bottom of the glass on the Break-Up Special, as Maylee told us my drink is called. “Sorry, guys, uh, maybe Eli can have another turn?” I suggest.
“You sure?” Loretta asks. “I mean, you’d feel a hell of a lot better after a round of Savage. They’ve got the edited version in here.” She starts flipping through songs on the computer screen, trying to find something I’ll sing.
I manage a smile, shaking my head. “Not this time. Maybe later?”
I’ve basically traded my couch for the booth seat and the distraction of my television for my friends’ singing. But it does feel better to be surrounded by them. As long as I don’t have to actually participate.
Loretta presses her lips together but hands the microphone to Eli. He sings, and then Simon takes a turn, but once everyone but me has had their shot at the mic, we sit and sip on our drinks, eating the plates of appetizers Maylee brought us.
“Are you drunk enough to tell us what happened yet?” Loretta asks.
I swallow the fried mushroom cap I just popped in my mouth. I’ve been hoovering them down.
Loretta grunts. “Ow!” She rubs her leg beneath the table, and my guess is that someone kicked her to tell her to be quiet.
But this is what they’re here for. Other than to distract me, they want to help. And these are the people I trust. We’ve been through so much together.
So, as hard as it is, I tell them all about the crazy conversation with Noah and how it turned into a fight, each of them asking questions and making points as I go.
By the end, the alcohol in my second drink has fully kicked in and I’m spilling my guts in a major case of verbal diarrhea. “I feel so . . . empty. I want to go to his place and tell him I’m sorry. I want him to hold me, make me his again. Fill my heart back up with him.”
Eli mutters under his breath, “I don’t think that’s what he’s supposed to fill. Maybe you’re doing it wrong?”
Arielle puts her hand over his mouth and glares at him.
“I love him, guys. What do I do?” Tears spring to my eyes again, even though I thought I’d cried them all out.
Becky offers me a clean napkin. “Of course you love him. It wouldn’t hurt so much if you didn’t.” I swipe at my eyes and look at her. Her eyes are kind, her words gentle as she asks me, “Did you think this was going to be easy?”
I shake my head. “No. I know relationships take work, but—”
“No but,” Simon says, interrupting me. “That’s the complete sentence. Relationships take work.” He takes Becky’s hand, and they meet eyes, saying so much with a single look.
Becky smiles sweetly at her husband and then turns back to me, her gaze hardening. I swear she’s already got a Mom Look down pat and she’s using it on me like I’m a disobedient child acting up in the middle of the Target produce section. “The truth is . . . you and Noah just met, at least for real. And it’s only been a short time. You’re still learning about each other, for fuck’s sake—who you are and who he is. Maybe he overstepped, and maybe you overreacted? But this is either a chance to decide this isn’t worth it, in which case, carry on with your pity party, or an opportunity to figure out how to communicate with each other, in which case, you need to get off your butt and apologize.”
I blink, caught completely off guard by Becky’s assessment of the situation. She sounds so rational, so logical. Is she right? Did I overreact to what Noah said? Am I still overreacting?
I look around the table, meeting each of my friends’ eyes. The truth is written there, plain to see.
Arielle dog-piles onto Becky’s words. “Babe, you know I love you. We all do. And one of your absolute best traits is your whole sunshiny vibe. It’s beautiful and uplifting, and honestly, I wish I could see the world the way you do for even a second. But life can be ugly. It’s messy and brutal and painful sometimes. And you don’t have to package that up with some inspirational quote and pretend it’s okay . . . for us, for your followers, and most importantly, for yourself.”
“Those hard times are what make the good times better,” Eli says.
“You gotta have rain to go with the sunshine, huh?” I ask ironically, and they all nod.
“He said stupid shit, you said stupid shit. Apologize, fuck, and move on,” Loretta summarizes concisely and bluntly.
“Thanks. I think,” I tell them. They’ve given me a lot to think about. Not only about Noah but about myself.
“Oh, now that we figured that out . . . did I tell y’all that I have a date this weekend? Met him on that app you told me about, Riley. We’re only an eighty percent match, but I figure that’s better than some rando looking for free dog groomings.”
“Congratulations!” Becky tells Loretta. “That deserves a celebration. Let’s order some more mushrooms since Riley ate them all. Now that my morning sickness is gone, I swear I could eat all day, every day.”
Becky laughs at herself, chugging her fifth glass of iced water with lemon. Lots of lemon because that’s what the baby likes, she says. Simon smiles, moving the small bowl of lemons closer to Becky and then pushing the call button on the tablet to have Maylee come take our latest order.
Eventually, I do get up and sing a few favorites, including Mom’s favorite, Total Eclipse of the Heart, which seems appropriate.
It’s annoyingly popular, but we finish with a group rendition of Don’t Stop Believing. And I vow to do just that.
Chapter 26
Riley
Morning comes too soon. Eli and Arielle offered to stay over when they dropped me back home after the night out, but I’d wanted to hide again. I’d had a lot to think about after everything The Crew told me last night. So my brain power is foggy from overthinking and alcohol.
But what’s in front of me on my computer screen isn’t a nightmare or some figment of my imagination. It’s real.
And it’s awful.
Like a lot of influencers, I pay for a ‘net crawler’ service, an automated program that scours the Internet for mentions of ‘Riley Sunshine’ or my web addresses. Normally, it’s a litany of hotlinks back to my own ’grams, tweets, and reposts.