Chapter 10

ten

Lily

I can only imagine how Belinda is reacting to the many sightings of me as I walk back across town towards Stef's house. Only a few more hours before I return to my life. I'll head to Manhattan to interview for a position with a streaming home-fitness group. They've been trying to get me to come in for a while, and I've delayed it because I can't imagine myself there. The hustle of New York is aggressive on its own. Coupled with the idea of working for someone else, it just doesn't feel right. Except, I can't turn down a meeting. Every networking opportunity counts for a step towards the next level of growth. I just have to survive one more day in New Jersey, I try to repeat to myself.

The bungalow Stef and Lee rent is storybook-esque. It's a coastal blue vinyl sided home with bright white shutters capped by matching flower boxes. Each box is bursting with late summer and early fall colors with tiny orange marigolds, lavender, and black eyed Susans. There is a big birthday sign on the front door in pinks and teals, clearly drawn by Lee and his students. Given the way middle school girls love the idea of love, I'm sure his students were eager to help. I wonder if they know? Marriage was so exciting then when it was just a prom you were guaranteed to be the queen of.

Before I can finish knocking, the door flies away from my dropping hand and I barely miss punching the birthday girl. She doesn't care, preferring to pull me into a hug so forceful we stumble backwards into the house. River coughs to cover a laugh behind me, while Lee catches her from behind. Stabilized, Stef squeals and scoops me into a hug that knocks the air out of my lungs. Shrieking into my ear, "I cannot believe you are here. In. New. Jersey!"

"Babe. Can you at least try to survive until the party? Maybe even another thirty years after?" Lee teases before moving her aside with a quick kiss to her temple. This quick gesture is a blip but it sticks with me—the sweet kiss and teasing glances. After he greets River and me, I'm stuck thinking about how this kind of special connection is impossible if I stay constantly on the go. Maybe it's time to reevaluate how I feel about building futures and having roots.

Stef and Lee met junior year of college in class. They were paired up to observe different classrooms around the state and present together. They went to underfunded public schools and elite private schools across urban, suburban, and rural settings. Evaluating the strengths and inequalities together, they found a balance of their own viewpoints. Her sunny energy and his critical nature made them perfect sparring partners. They got an A+ and were clearly not done with one another. When they ended up celebrating together, a few drinks led to a few kisses. From that day forward, they were inseparable even when disagreeing.

We've been sitting around their living room chatting for a few minutes when Stef excuses herself for a moment. Thinking out loud I mumble to myself, "How has it taken so many years?" River elbows me to hush and I give him a side eye. Hoping he can read my mind what? Lee knows how long they've been together.

When Stef walks back in, she asks me simply "Manicures?"

"And cupcakes? In Princeton? Keep me off this new Springer texting?" I hope I'm conveying a mix of laughter at the ridiculousness of this place and my desperate desire to be out of the public eye, politely.

"Definitely cupcakes. It is my birthday weekend, afterall," Stef agrees.

My smile hasn't been this big in so long, it hurts my face.

Sliding onto the Jeep's worn fabric seats, and I feel light enough to float away. My muscles have relaxed, and my heart feels warm and swollen. Being with Stef, or Nessa or Delia, is like walking onto the beach and breathing in the fresh air. It's peaceful and grounding. It feels like the most authentic way life can be.

Plugging in the address to the GPS, I move us towards the high-end salon out of town and ease up even further. There's nothing to be nervous about when it's just us, it's normal.

Stef is talking about the coming school year with something fierce and lovely that I can't help but find myself completely wrapped up in.

"I've been working on how the Peacocks are handling special education for the lower grades. Every. Single. Child. Who comes into my school is going to be given tools to succeed instead of pushed until they break. Did I tell you about the AAC device I got a grant for?"

"The what?"

"AAC, Augmentative and Alternative Communication, it's like a supertablet for folks who can't use their own voice to speak. You know how many folks I've engaged with don't realize that just because someone isn't using their voice box, that doesn't mean they don't have things to say." She balances being both fiery and passionate with a softness like the gentlest stream of water when speaking about her students. "So, I met this wonderful first grader who absolutely can talk, but he's struggling to do so in certain situations. We know it's not the standard, most places pressure the child to speak. I got the device, and he came into my office and thanked me for using it. He was able to tell me how happy he was." She beams.

Looking at her she's barely changed in all this time. Long jet black hair falling around her shoulders, warm olive skin she'd called mestiza , the rounded apples of her cheeks always prominently on display with a giant smile. The ease and tact she has in every moment, the ability to bring about changes. While I'm busy thinking about her being ‘too nice' she bites out something off topic.

"Getting this out there now so you know. I called my mom, and the Morgan's were never welcome, but they are confirmed unwelcome. The Belinda and Neal portion of the Long's know you are here," she pauses just long enough for me to interject .

"LA LA LA, if I can't hear you, I don't have to know," I answer loudly and childishly, trying to prevent myself from having to go there.

"Okay, so I was correct in assuming you hadn't told you folks you'd be here, or talked to your mom directly at all?" She pins me with her perfect school administrator tone and stare.

"No Ms. Santos Manolo, my mommy doesn't know," I singsong to her.

Maintaining her firm disposition, she says, "And, when will Lee be proposing, before or at the party?"

"Before. What. No. I didn't. He isn't. I'm not," I stutter, caught off guard and blabbing.

"Lily, unless you told me you were here for the funeral of one of your parents, that was the only other option. Since Belinda and Neal are still breathing, I'm getting engaged." She's matter of fact.

I try to play it cool, but step a little too hard on the brakes for the next red light and whip my right arm out to shove her back into her seat.

Stef lets out a whoosh of air, as I go. "Damn, nice tits lady!"

This results in a round of giggles as we stop more safely, and helps me delay the inevitable conversation. Fuck. Deep breath.

Once inside, they seated us at opposite ends of the row. Score!

Truth be told, I adore Lee for her. His striking resemblance to her childhood crush on the blond guy from The O.C. is pure kismet. Stef's older brother, Mateo, used to watch it when he was supposed to babysit us. Granted, back then we didn't understand much, but we did know the blond guy was trouble and so cute. Lee has a similar look, and would make the perfect stand in for the mysterious one in a late ‘90s boy band. He practically lives in paint stained jeans and T-shirts with Chucks.

Originally from Michigan, Lee is automatically special because it's rare when a person from someplace that isn't New Jersey doesn't mercilessly mock it. He's never complained about this town, probably because his own was small too. And weird. This place is so weird.

Best of all though, for me, Stef and Lee have sparked a sliver of hope that a couple can be equals. This is the sort of man you marry. He doesn't simply let her shine, he consistently will revel in it. Yet, when the hard parts of her job and massive empathy overwhelm her, he allows her to weep. He holds her up, reassuring her that you are allowed to be strong while feeling softer emotions.

Even when I dated a woman, I found myself shrinking behind my partner. That relationship taught me it wasn't about gender roles, but something in me. When my voice is loud, my feelings larger than life, my excitement like fireworks or my sadness lingering, I am not who they believed me to be. However, my constant caretaking, availability, and support taught those partners what they wanted. They all met their forever partner after they were done practicing with me. I'm drifting towards those darkest thoughts, the ones that can spiral me out of the present when Stef leans over and talks in a tone so sugary, it could give a cavity.

"Really? After twenty years you think that you can sit a few seats down and get out of this chat?"

I let out a dramatic, long groan. It's playful and energetic despite the faux irritation. "Fine. What do you want to know?" I say a silent prayer that I don't accidentally give up Lee's surprise.

Stef's eyes glimmer with the sort of mischief I haven't seen in ages. "You are here, so that must mean I am getting engaged. Now, tell me which color?" She opens her palm to show me two bottles of polish. "Susan will expect something soft, neutral, like this pink. However, it is the final weekend of summer, so I was thinking brighter one last time. Coral? There was also a fuschia, I could grab…"

Tension is building inside my chest, and I realize that I'm frowning and quickly try to push a smile onto my face. It must not look natural because she continues on.

"Oh, please. Like there was any other way in hell you'd be here. I wouldn't be sure you'd come to the P.A. side of the river for fear of seeing someone from three miles away."

"Coral." I nod towards the bottle in her hand, hoping to evade the other portion of her question. "Definitely the coral. It will look beautiful on your skin tone." I'm staring at my manicurist, avoiding Stef's attempt at eye contact.

"Come on, Lil. It's not like you've ever wanted to be back here. What, are you planning to sit your time in the stockyard at town hall? Then have tea and tarot at Prudence's shop with your mom? Maybe you'll go on a double-date with Jim, Landan, and Grant, too? Then, hell will freeze over or pigs will fly. Right?"

Busted . I turn her way and stare at her slack jawed and rapidly blinking. Unsure what to do. Hoping to disappear. Lightly, Stef uses her finger to push my jaw shut.

Her chair wheels closer before she's tossing her arms around me in a sisterly embrace.

I whisper sternly, "You better act surprised."

"Thank you." Her eyes are welling up with tears, and she squeezes my hand before moving back to where she was asked to sit. Told you, Stef wins the kindest, most empathetic, human award. Every time.

It's why I bothered to come. I would be a fool to miss when good things happen in your life, I think too late to say in her ear.

After our nails are shaped and cleaned, painted coral and pink, we walk towards Witherspoon Street.

"Did you really think you could keep being back a secret? How long were you here before I found out?" Stef presses, either teasing or tense I can't be sure.

"Not a full twelve hours," I admit.

"Uh huh, and you slept, where again?" She continues the ‘friendly' interrogation.

"River's loft above The Featherweight."

She's practically foaming at the mouth from this information. "Was that the plan? When did you reconnect with him? Oh my god." I wince from the shrieking. "Did you two reconnect before this? How well did he fill out, by the way? I mean, not that he wasn't always muscular, what with being on the hockey team and all… but, he's like a man. Did you finally make out with him? Would you date him? Do you think you can stay and be my maid of honor? Oh my god, I have so many questions!"

"Clearly," I dryly retort before taking a deep breath. Then another. "Give me a minute to get this organized in my head, please."

"River is…" so fucking hot I can't stand it, "obviously a good looking man. Yes, okay? But also, Stef, I don't think it's like that. He never asked for my number again when I changed it. For all I knew until last night, he was still good friends with Grant, and was just sliding into my DMs like so many other guys. I make my living wearing spandex on the internet and you don't want to know what some of these guys send me." I shudder just thinking about it.

"So how did you end up there?" She's such a good person to talk to. Always uses her questions with grace and a soft touch, keeping me on track and digging further in than I even realize.

"Umm, honestly?"

"No, lie to me." She nudges me playfully.

"Honestly, I had no plan. I called Nessa and Delia but I didn't know when I'd get to town. I was basically having a panic attack thinking about it, so I stopped on Route 1 to eat disco fries and delay. I just kept telling myself that despite my urge to turn around and skip this, I'd regret it. I drove by Bangor Drive…"

"You did?" The confusion is all over her face and laced into her tone.

"They don't know, I just idled on the street, staring at a palace that was my home for a while and now isn't." I shrug, trying to act nonchalant when I am very chalant about this.

"Anyway, eventually, the curiosity got the better of me. It was late enough that I assumed everyone would be asleep so I parked the Wrangler downtown and was going to take Pete for a walk before using the key Delia left out for me. Instead, he dragged me into the square and straight into River who wanted to give me a tour of The Featherweight, updates, and offered me a drink." I'm rattling off the events as simply as I can.

"Then what?" she prods me to continue, as if I wasn't going to keep rolling along.

"I got drunk," I say simply, shrugging.

"Then, River, true to form, saw I was wasted and put me to bed. Clothed. No, I did not make out with him. He's definitely attractive, but I don't think he sees me that way. I'm just Lily, the pathetic divorcee. You know how my dating goes. I meet someone beautiful, and we get along for a few weeks, months sometimes. Eventually, they tell me that I'm not the marrying kind. Eventually, I move to a new place and we fade out of each other's lives. Eventually, everyone moves on. I mean," dropping to a whisper, "even my parents did."

I swallow to hold back the flood of emotions thinking about my many broken hearted moments along the way. Switching topics to keep my cool, I say, "Anyway, obviously I know how things work. If a Salvatore woman saw me then everyone would know. Are they invited tonight?"

"Not sure. There are absolutely no Morgans. But, the Kelly's are included. He's really not that bad, Jim. He's, um, tolerable?"

"Oh goody, tolerate it! Anyway, what I truly did not anticipate was my dog tackling the breakfast delivery and running off with it! So, I ended up out in public."

"With River." She wags her eyebrows at me and smirks.

Resigned, I say, "With River, but I really do not think it is like that." Right? I mean, petting his chest and stomach hair this morning when I thought I was reaching for my dog was… it was comforting. Shockingly nice. Nope, there's no way it is about River. I'm probably just horny. I'll fix this after I leave town and I bet it won't be a thought again.

"More importantly than your matchmaking for others, let's discuss you, soon-to-be the bride-to-be."

"Can you say that again, but faster?"

I roll my eyes, not bothering to acknowledge that I'm back in word-soup territory. "Have you started to plan, if you knew this was coming? Do you know what kind of ring he'll give you? Do you know what we're wearing?"

Her eyes light up, giddiness takes over and she admits, "I found the ring." Mischief streaks across her face. "I was cleaning the bathroom last week and I stumbled on a little green velvet box in one of Lee's drawers. It was right there, in the vanity, where his deodorant usually goes. I was not snooping."

"Sure, whatever you say, babe." I wink.

"It's perfect, Lily. Like straight up never seen anything so perfect. So me. Like…"

"Like?" interrupting her, "Which one of us is the educator and which is the West Coast bohemian?"

"Shut up!" she whines and laughs. My chest lightens. It does not ever matter how long we've been apart, it always feels like no time has passed with her.

"Anyway, it's not a diamond, thank you very much. It's an opal." She actually squeals. "I'm hoping it's one from Mom's collection direct from the South Sea." She sighs while thinking about Filipino opals. "More importantly, Lee had to prove to Susan his commitment to not just me, but keeping us close by. You know how she'll get about things like grandkids and God only knows if Mateo will be in a relationship ever."

Stef's older brother is off in New York working in real estate, doing something that is time consuming and pays very well. Beyond that, he's been sort of a mystery to us the last few years. "Although, I hear he's been trying to get involved in some social good things now too. I don't know if I buy this change in him, but I hear he's been asking Nessa some questions about her work at the hospital."

Nessa, our friend-therapist-turned real psychologist, has been passionate about women's rights and advocacy for as long as we can remember. "It's weird they're talking, right?"

"It's even more weird that they still hate each other," she confirms.

The longer we're together, the more my heart feels like it's being tugged at. I've missed her. I've missed them all. I don't want to miss things anymore.

I've always been a little bit flighty, so it doesn't surprise Stef that I'm lost in my daydreams as I drive us home. It took a moment to realize she had been talking but I missed part of her story. Crap. I quickly glance over to see her with tears in her eyes. Good ones? Bad ones? Crap.

My brain must have heard some of this, even though I wasn't paying attention, because before long I put together that she's blubbering.

"I'm about to get engaged, and you're just still, rootless. Floating from gig to gig, no permanent home. We're your family you know, even if your parents are going to suck. We're still all here."

"I disagree, I have a permanent home." Tapping above my heart,I remind her, "The only place I need to live is your heart. It's even rent free. My favorite price."

I hope this keeps the heat off me for now, because the part I do not want to blurt out is how she'd change her mind. If I came back and everyone watched as I fumbled, they'd be annoyed. I'd have one really ‘fun' night being over the top before hiding out on my own for days on end. Forgetting to call them back. Forgetting plans.

"Everywhere I go I find other wandering souls. I get to have you all as my foundation, then float in and out making new friends everywhere I go." Desperately trying to maintain a mask of chipper excitement, despite the exhaustion of fast friends, fast friends-with-benefits, and consistent change.

When I have started to think maybe I do want roots, my partners have not been on the same page. Every time I catch an unreciprocated feeling I watch the story play out identically. First, we end things because one of us will be hurt. Sometimes, we re-run and hook up again because it is just "easy"—although it isn't. Magically, after the commitment-phobe moves on, they meet someone they want to spend a lifetime with. Like that movie Good Luck Chuck with that terribly not funny dude, Dane something. I am the person you fuck to find true love. I've said it before but Stef won't accept this for the fact it remains. So I bring her back to something that I know will hold her attention.

"Stefanie Anne Santos-Manolo almost Carter," I reprimand, "do not deflect this and make it about me right now!"

She manages to burst out at the same time, "Lily Jayne Long, don't you dare claim you cannot find love again to me."