Chapter 53

fifty-three

Lily

Tuesday Afternoon

"Let's get this over with," I greet Pru, gazing down at my shoes.

"Hand me the crystal please," she replies. Handing it over, she examines and returns it.

Nessa and I exchange a glance before I nod. "No problem, will do. Just, why?"

Cackling like the witch folks believe her to be, Pru retorts, "For someone who loves Peter Pan, I expected you to understand the magic comes from a little faith and trust. If all else fails, there's always pixie dust." She shakes her head in amusement at her own joke.

Through a tight smile, I continue to nod and we make our way further down the road. Stopping in my tracks, I notice a man is already sitting in the second seat, "What the—" cutting myself off I pause. "River?"

He waves toward the second spot. "Nice of you to join me, darling, please have a seat." He smirks and Nessa looks at me innocently.

"Not my monkeys, not my circus, sorry sweetheart. Looks like I'm not needed." She waves and heads off.

Prudence bumps me forward. I know it's time to pay the piper and hear him out. I would love nothing more than to turn on my heels and run. As these ideas begin to form, Pru bumps me again urging me to take a sip of the warm concoction in the mug. "What is this again, anyway?"

Pru says, "Just an herbal tea to help you stay calm, dear. It's nothing magical. The magic was always within you. Go be the bravest of us all."

Lowering myself onto the bench next to River, she takes the crystal from my palm and hands it to him. "Looks like you could use this more than she can, I'm sure Lily can share with you." On a wink she takes off towards her shop.

Our eyes meet slowly. Almost shy, a bit hesitant. James and Miss Nicole approach with the top board lowering it through its grooves in the column, and clicking it into place so it encases our ankles. Ava Marie approaches with a heavy brass padlock.

We wait patiently as she attempts to kneel and click it into place, when Jim jumps in and says, "Ava, let me do this for you, so you don't hurt yourself, please?" His polite anxiety suggests a mix of respect and fear, her favorite combination and she acquiesces easily.

With a heavy metal clink, we're in for three hours together with nowhere else to go. They just walk off, as promised, making no public ceremony. No additional attention is given to these weird circumstances.

We sit and I wait for the eyes in every shop window to enjoy the shenanigan. River glances at his watch. "Three thirty-five, so we have two hours and fifty-five minutes to go. Come on Lily, let's take this on. As a team." He brings his arm closest to me another inch closer. Deftly, as he's done so many times before, he interlaces our fingers together and gives a squeeze.

I want to be angry at him, but looking at that stupid condo, at her ghost in what was my home, I can't keep rejecting everyone in hopes that nobody hurts me like that again. The silence stretches on this way, hands clasped, eyes flickering from folks that pass by, a few tourists think we're waiting for a photo before noticing the ancient lock without a key.

After a while, I finally relent. "Why?" I whisper, so quiet I'm not convinced he hears me. "Why do you want to be a team, River? I'm not people's first choice. I'm not a keeper. I'm temporary. A stopover on the way to adulthood, before real things. Why do you want to do this? It's not like you have to." Confusion and self-loathing I've held for so long slowly spill out of my throat, my chest aching and pained.

"Because, Lily, I love you," he says, squeezing my hand harder with each word. The third squeeze is so hard it almost hurts, but it grounds me in this moment. "I always have, darling, probably always will. If you run off again, well I guess it depends what you tell me. I'll chase you if you want. Or I'll just wait. I'll be here, hoping to have you walk directly into me again. Hoping to get a second, third, or fourth chance. As many as you'll give me."

I swallow thickly and take in his beautiful teal eyes earnest expression. With him here, I'm able to forget everyone who may be watching. I focus on his firm grasp of my palm and his rich baritone. My heart rate slows and the calm that washes over me feels like a religious experience, like I'm bathing in his love.

He keeps going, speaking soft and low for me alone. "Mom walked me over here and said that an important part of being together is accepting that we're going to keep messing up and choosing each other anyway. We have to keep being honest, no matter how hard it is. We can't run away from talking to each other. I hate that I kept this secret from you," he continues, and I feel silent tears starting to prick at my eyes and stain my cheeks.

"This has been destroying me since I saw you in that white gown. Tipping you off about the meeting in the bar was selfish. I was trying to alleviate my own guilt. Yes, we've talked here and there but it faded because I would consider confessing and get scared. I never wanted to see you hurting." His eyes are starting to lightly water now too.

"Darling, seeing you here, getting to really know you again, it only made it worse. When I saw where you were in Denver, I knew that the stories we heard and the photos we saw were even more curated than we could imagine. Thinking about you, alone for Christmas, for ten Christmases, broke my heart." These words are breaking mine and sewing it back together in the process.

"I'm sitting here because I deserve this, not you. I should have stopped you. Called him out for being a moron. But, then again, I'm really fucking lucky he is because he wasn't smart enough to really see you." His gaze intensifies and he leans over conspiratorially. "He's missed out on a lifetime of moments that I wouldn't trade for anything."

Trying to deflect the heaviness of this moment with teasing, I ask, "Not even if Jonathan was to give you his stamp of approval?"

He doesn't blink, "Not for a million of them, I wouldn't trade sitting with you, here, for any. Damn. Thing." He hasn't dropped my hand, and it seems to keep him steady too.

Exhaling, nodding, I just hold on tighter. "I, I… I'm not good at talking when it's like this. So big and important. I just know that there isn't anything that would make me doubt you, I was trying to make a joke to lighten the mood because I don't want to have people watch me cry." He lightly tugs so I'm leaning a bit towards him and kisses my cheek chastely.

I breathe deep a few times more and let my words fall out in their typical rambling waves of chaos. "I can't believe you are sitting here. I can't believe that I am sitting here! It's not so much that I doubted you, I doubted me. I doubted that I was worth the hassle. If I'm being honest, the hassle I bring is exhausting for me too. I'm tired of moving all the time. I'm tired of missing things. I'm tired of wondering what I could have done differently to be here. Before Atlantic City, I kept thinking about the idea of ten years from now."

I raise my eyes slightly to look at his face, but not quite meeting his eyes. I get as far as his chin, because looking at someone when it's so emotionally charged is a struggle. "So I was trying to see if I could picture being behind our cottage, Stef and Lee will have a kid by then I bet. Could I be there, wearing your ring, watching Pete steal snacks from kids playing nearby?"

Struggling to breathe a little, I look straight ahead now instead, seeing The Featherweight and answer honestly, like he asked for us to do. "It scares me to no end, but I think maybe we could get there. I don't know if I'll want a wedding, if that's okay. But a life with you? Being partners, traveling, maybe taking over for Miss Nicole when she's ready to retire? Yeah." My breath comes out easy now, something loosens in my chest and shoulders. "Yeah, I think I would like that a whole lot, darling. "

The comfortable silence between us is a nice shift from the emotionally charged conversation.

The time ticks by for a bit, when again I see Landan's silhouette appear to watch from behind sheer curtains in what was Grant's office.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I scoff. What is this chick's problem?

Nessa pops between us on top of the wooden boards securing our feet, her impish wide smile implies chaos.

"Don't worry about that ‘ c you next Tuesday' . Rumor is that she's about to deal with karma." Nessa winks and heads off.

"That what?" he asks me.

"I think it's from an old TV show, it spells cunt."

"Well, then just focus on how much more loved you are than that c-word ."

I follow his eyes to see the rest of our friend group piled out in front of Pages on a mix of seating they brought out. Seth doesn't even seem mad about it, which may be the most surprising thing at this moment.

Before we know it the mail carrier is doing the usual loop of the square. It's the last spot, meaning we're at the tail end of this thing. Or at least the first half of this thing. After slamming the large door to the series of mailboxes for Grant's condo and the apartments he owns above the rest of the buildings on the block shut, Nessa whistles. She takes her pointer and middle fingers in a V and points from her eyes to the mailboxes, telling us to watch.

Just then, I hear the condo door open, a summery wreath bounces against the door and the nautical door knocker clunks. Tall and thin as ever, Landan makes her way gracefully down the steps. Her long brown hair is flawlessly straight, not a single flyaway or strand out of place. She's in her usual all-black outfit with a smug tight expression. She glances at us and makes a disinterested face. It's funny that she could miss how her actions made her the villain in my story for so long.

Opening their mailbox, she takes out a gift box and immediately rips open the perforated strip. As if controlled by a spring-loaded device the top flies away suddenly. I can't contain my laughter. It is raining glitter and confetti all over her perfect little face. Not just confetti, a gust of wind sends some flying our way and I see that the confetti is made up of tiny penises. Lifting a bag from the box, I see large, blood red letters: Eat A Dick. She shrieks before dropping everything and running into the house. A second scream follows shortly thereafter, and Nessa whistles again before winking.

Prudence arrives with an old iron key, large and heavy, "Get out of here now, and," as she stares at Nessa with narrow eyes, "do not tell me how you managed that, you hear? Let Elizabeth and I handle the committee. As far as we've decided, you did the hard thing. You talked it out, welcome home Lily. I missed you."

The lock drops open before the boards are lifted by Lee and Seth and we slowly stand. Linking arms with the guys, River is helped to stand for a moment. It's like having to get on solid ground after a long boating trip. Next, the guys do the same for me. Once we're all on solid footing, we run towards The Featherweight shrieking with laughter.

Once inside, Delia heads behind the bar. Her shirt is tied up into a knot over high-waisted jeans, and she's wearing a pinup headband. She's clearly been preparing, and she's not only done up to the nines but has a full spread of the best bar snacks.

Seth joins her and begins to uncap bottles for us all. She's lining the bartop as he goes.

"Stef, you're on music. It's time to celebrate the official return of Peacock Springs, New Jersey's number one firecracker. The girl who has a heart almost as big as her hair, Miss Lily Jayne Long!" Delia orders.

A cheer rips through the room and I bask in the warmth of their affection. All of the years of stress and worry that started to melt away earlier evaporate. The love these people have for me fills me to the brim. There is a rush of footsteps before I'm crushed from all sides. Delia and Seth start to pass out drinks .

A familiar drum beat begins to pump through the speakers and the joy in the room swells greater than before. In a rare moment of boisterousness from Lee and Seth, a cry of, "give me a second," rings out in deep baritone. The introductory bars shift into the pre-chorus lines about bars closing and carrying each other home. Home.

I am finally home.

Glasses in the air, the room bursts with the chorus to a cheer of setting the world on fire, and the irony not lost on any of us. I dissolve into hysterical giggles as we clink bottles to cheers before taking long sips of our drinks.

This is not the kind of evening where we'll be hung over tomorrow, this round is followed by water and snacks. More sing-alongs happen as each person takes over the playlist mixing songs from the last three decades of our lives. When the snacks are depleted and the plates are loaded into the dishwasher, Stef yawns and tells Lee she can't stay awake another minute with school bright and early tomorrow.

Nessa looks at her phone, rolling her eyes as she exits. Delia ropes Seth into finishing the last of the trash haul to the dumpster with her before shooing us towards the door. Glancing his way and assuring River, "Boss, come on, go home. We got this." Then skillfully shuts the door behind us calling out, "I don't want to see you here before noon, River. I will lock you out of your own place!"