Twenty

Three days later

“Finally, bare legs!” Piper’s huge oval sunglasses made her look permanently surprised. She perched on the steps of the fountain in Washington Square Park, smoothing her short skirt. “No more tights. Hello, spring!”

Casey squirted a blob of gel sanitizer into his hand and rubbed it in thoroughly before raising his grande iced coffee to his lips. “Spring? As if.” He slurped the complex concoction featuring thirteen pumps sugar-free vanilla, fifteen pumps hazelnut, a heap of extra ice, twelve Splenda, and an inch of caramel drizzle. The name printed out on his cup, courtesy of the eye-rolling baristas, read ‘Crazy’ instead of ‘Casey’. “We jumped straight to summer.”

Piper reached across his lap, waving an open box of Insomnia cookies in front of Riley. “I’m happy spring’s back but even happier you’re back—because that means Maggie’s feeling more like her old self.”

“She is, but…” Riley squeezed her phone. “I hate not being there. What if she needs me?”

“If she does, you go.” Piper’s eyebrows rose above her sunglasses. “But sitting around her apartment when she’s feeling stronger and graduation’s only weeks away helps no one. I bet she kicked your ass this morning, am I right?”

Riley sighed.

“Don’t feel guilty. You need to take care of yourself, too.” Piper shook the cookie box. “C’mon, eat! I didn’t buy them just to look at.”

Riley yawned and chose a snickerdoodle cookie. “I missed these.”

“Cookies are life—fact.” Piper nodded.

Casey pointed to the box. “You sanitized your hands before rooting around in there, right?”

“No, I picked a booger and then fingered each and every one.” Piper snatched it away, but Casey’s reach earned him a chocolate chunk cookie anyway.

“Our Monday afternoon ritual isn’t the same if you’re AWOL, Rye.” Casey leaned in, a buttery popcorn smell from his part-time job at a cinema lingering in his light jacket. His eyes chased the fountain’s waterworks as they leapt into the cloudless sky. “Thank God you’re back. Listening to Paisley here, waffling on about her latest sexual misadventure, was detrimental to my GPA.”

“I heard that!” Piper scooted a smidge to her left, setting the box down between her and Casey. “I have needs, so sue me.”

“And I’m happy you’re fulfilling them.” Cookie in hand, Casey shook his head. “I just don’t need all the gory details—”

“Did you ask Ben out?” Riley’s question got lost in the verbal volleys to her left.

“Case, I’m not going to apologize because I enjoy a good fuck,” said Piper.

“You and Ben—?” Riley’s eyes widened.

“They did.” Casey snapped his cookie in half.

“Really?” Riley stiffened, her tone sharp.

“NO! Ben and I went out! We didn’t have sex—Ben’s a gentleman,” said Piper. “We had a date Friday night. Sorry I didn’t tell you, Rye.”

Three days ago, and I’m only hearing about it now?

Piper lifted her sunglasses, nudging them into her hair. “It seemed like something that could wait, you know? After we talked about your mom and what you missed at school each day, you sounded exhausted.”

Riley slowly nodded. Piper wasn’t being secretive; she was being considerate as always. “How’d it go?”

“Okay, but poor Ben looked awful. Swollen nose, two black eyes—”

“W-What?!” Riley jerked forward. “What happened?”

“Broke his nose.” Casey winced. “Collided with some bloke on the street, apparently.”

“Yeah, two days before our date.” Piper nodded. “The timing couldn’t have sucked more. He had an interview for a job at a bakery and an audition today…”

Shit. Right. He texted me last week—the day of Mom’s chemo. Too much was going on to respond.

“Singing on Broadway.”

A knot tightened in Riley’s stomach. “Singing? That’s amazing.” You would’ve known the news first if you had returned his text.

“I don’t know if he got either job, though.” Piper sighed, twirling a short piece of hair around a finger. “If he didn’t, maybe he’s too embarrassed to say anything, poor guy.”

Piper seems interested…maybe Ben is too?

“His bruises might’ve turned them off. He looked rough—not that that ever stopped me!” Piper licked her lips. “I told him if those jobs didn’t work out, he should join me at Sprinkles. I said it as a joke, not thinking he’d be interested, but he asked me questions about cupcake recipes and everything. Apparently, he baked with his mum when he was little! Super cute.”

“Where’d you guys go?” Riley bit her cookie.

“That mac ’n’ cheese place on First. He ate a huge portion of their four-cheese mac and three brownies.” Piper giggled. “He stole a spoon, too. I think Ben’s a bit of a klepto!”

“Just your type, Pip,” said Casey.

She laughed. “Hey, I haven’t shoplifted since freshman year! So, anyway—we went for a walk. It was so warm, everyone was out. Ben was like a bottomless pit, though, still hungry, so I dragged him to that cookie dough shop on LaGuardia.”

Casey sipped his coffee. “I love that place, but it always has a humongous line.”

“Yeah, it was crazy, so we had lots of time to talk Scotland, but for someone born there, he knows jack shit. Said he left as a six-year-old and never went back.” Piper dug in the box, selecting a sugar cookie. “I mean, I left two weeks after I was born, but at least I’ve visited a bunch of times. He wanted to know all about my background, so I gave him the world tour. He didn’t nod off into his chocolate milkshake or anything, so—yay me!”

“How many people can say they’ve lived in Edinburgh, Paris, Tokyo, Toronto, Chicago, and New York by the age of twenty-three? Of course it’s interesting,” said Riley. “You’re interesting.”

Piper chewed her cookie. “I guess being a diplomat’s brat makes for good date conversation. Ben told me a bit about England. He moved a few times and lived in Windsor.”

“Hmm!” Casey raised an eyebrow. “Windsor is home to the most millionaires in Britain, including the Queen when she’s in residence at Windsor Castle.”

“Why Google when you have Brit Twit?” Piper groaned.

“Wow, I had no idea Ben had royal neighbors,” said Riley.

“Is he a toff?” Casey set his coffee down between his Harry Styles-influenced Chelsea boots.

“Toff?” asked Riley.

“Rich Brit. Privileged upper class.”

Piper chuckled. “Doubt it. He wasn’t flashing a platinum card. Our date was cheap and cheerful.”

“I think he’s as broke as I am.” Riley’s phone lit up, sending her heart surging into her throat. Mom? A hockey GIF from Josh filled the screen. Ahh, thank God.

Casey chose another cookie. “I guess he’s never met the Queen, then. Stolen her silver teaspoons, maybe…”

“Ben knows someone even better.” Piper tilted her freckly nose into the bright sun. “Mark Keegan.”

“Bollocks, he does!” Casey snapped the cookie in half.

“He does! Ben said Mark looked out for him at drama school, made sure he wasn’t homesick, helped him learn lines. Can you imagine? Sweet, huh?”

“Yeah.” Riley swallowed, trying to dampen the twinge in her chest. She was happy Piper was spending time with Ben but felt left out, hearing about his past secondhand. Why didn’t he open up about this stuff to me?

“He hasn’t spoken to Mark in a while, though. Ben called him last fall, but his number had changed,” said Piper.

“Well, that’s convenient.” Casey snorted. “Knows him, my ass.”

Piper rolled her eyes and continued. “Ben said they both auditioned for the role of Callum in Lairds and Liars, but he lost out because Mark’s Scottish accent was better. That’s crazy—born in Scotland and you lose to an Irishman.”

“Or maybe Ben’s a shit actor.”

“Casey!” Riley glared. “Maybe Mark just had the look they wanted.”

“Yeah, listen to the future casting director!” said Piper. “Ben told me about beating Mark for a voiceover job. It was a kids show—with puppets! I nearly died! Ben’s puppet-friendly! That was all I needed—”

“Bloody hell!” Casey laughed. “You didn’t make him watch your YouTube channel on your date, did you? I thought you liked this guy. No wonder you didn’t get laid.”

“If a guy—or girl—doesn’t get me or my love of puppets, then good riddance. I’m going to become THE go-to person for children’s television in LA one day, and my future partner will be supportive.” Piper sniffed. “My puppet channel has over twenty thousand subscribers, so I’m doing something right.”

“Did you show him?” asked Riley.

Piper beamed. “He complimented my storytelling and said my puppets looked like Muppets! That’s the ultimate compliment.”

“Your internship last summer at the LA workshop paid off in more ways than one,” said Riley.

“I know, right!” Piper brushed crumbs from her skirt. “Intern now, CEO in ten years. I told Ben that and he said ‘I believe it!’ Aw, Benjamuffin! He’s such a cutie.”

“Benjamuffin?” Casey’s face turned sour.

What’s with the Benjamuffin? “He’s definitely cute.” A tight smile crossed Riley’s face. Piper’s gushing about Ben was stoking that pang in her chest again. She squinted into the fountain. “When are you going out again?”

“Oh, we’re not. Ben’s not into me, and you know—vice versa.”

“What?” Riley’s jaw relaxed. “Why?”

“Knew it.” Casey nodded. “Piper plus puppets equals total boner killer—”

“It has nothing to do with my puppets. We had zero spark. There was no flirting, no kiss good-bye or hug. I dunno, maybe he’s asexual? Or a germophobe?” She gave Casey side-eye. “It was like he was channeling you, C-3PO.”

“Steady on!”

“He’s totally yum, but he just doesn’t do it for me,” Piper sighed. “Unlike a certain woman with a gorgeous wild Afro…”

Riley leaned forward. “That girl at Peet’s?”

Piper’s face lit up. “Yeah! She always does a cool design in my latte. Remember the cat, Casey?”

He nodded. “Well, do the opposite of what I’d do then.”

“What? Buy a regular coffee?”

“No. Ask her out.” Casey was dead serious.

“I think she goes to Tisch,” said Riley. “I overheard her say she’s a dance major.”

“Ooh, bendy, Pip.” Casey raised an eyebrow. “Bet she’s into Twister bedsheets.”

Piper nodded. “A girl’s gotta have some fun.”

“Amen to that.” Riley woke up her phone—still no messages from Maggie.

“The same could be said for the future Mrs. King.” Casey elbowed Riley. “Before you vanish into the backwoods of Minnesota as Josh’s child bride, apparently…”

Her heart dipped like a lead balloon. Minnesota. She lowered her phone to her lap. “Aw, Case, I was going to tell you—”

“Hey, it’s okay, really, I’m just winding you up. You’ve been busy. I didn’t mind hearing it from Pip.” Casey protectively wrapped his arm over Riley’s shoulder. “What you’re doing for your mom is…” He took in a deep breath. “I just wish you didn’t have to marry Josh to do it.”

A sour taste rose in Riley’s throat.

“It’s a shame you won’t be living the west coast life with Pip Pip Hooray here…” Casey squeezed Riley’s shoulder and let go. “You know, it’s not too late to bail.”

“Guys—”

“Just…think about it,” said Casey. “Josh will be off, pretending to be the new Grootzky—”

“It’s Gretzky.”

“Whatever.” Casey huffed. “Josh will be leaving you alone in the middle of nowheresville with only deer and pine cones to keep you company. What do they do for fun out there? Do they even have THX in their movie theaters?”

“Saint Paul is a city, Case—Minnesota’s capital.” Riley briefly closed her eyes. “Look, I know you guys think this is some submissive move, but I’m not in the back seat. I’m the one driving this thing, being proactive about helping Mom. I’m not a victim. This is my choice.”

Shaking his head, Casey reached for his coffee. “But do you have to marry him—”

“I do!” Her sharp tone drew stares from two stroller-pushing nannies. A tightness squeezed her chest. Lower your voice, Riley. “Things…things are so much worse…”

Casey paused mid-sip. “Worse? How?”

“Where do I start?” She sighed. “The scans, surgeries, insurance premiums, chemo and radiation treatments, drugs, transfusions, ER visits, transportation costs—they haven’t taken a bite out of her savings, they’ve devoured every scrap. We had to sell her car, most of her furniture—where does it fucking end?”

“Aw, Rye.” Piper leaned in. “I thought her place looked kinda empty.”

“And she’s one late payment away from losing her apartment. I can’t stand by and watch her become homeless. I had to do something.”

Casey squeezed his cup. “That’s so wrong. Cancer patients have enough to worry about—they shouldn’t end up bankrupt as well.”

“Mom can’t even declare bankruptcy—she can’t afford the filing fees.” Riley’s breath hitched. “And I feel so…guilty…”

“Why?” Casey squinted.

“A year and a half ago, when she got cancer for the second time…” She diverted her eyes to her phone, sitting in her lap. “I’ve never told you, but I was going to withdraw from NYU.”

“Seriously?” “What?” Piper and Casey’s words tripped over each other.

Riley blew out her lips. “I’ve always paid my rent and expenses, and I contribute a bit toward fees, but even with my scholarship and loans, it’s not enough. Mom pays what they don’t cover, but with no steady income… I couldn’t have her choosing to pay for college over heating her apartment or eating, so I decided to quit.”

“Wow.” Casey’s jaw dropped.

“That didn’t go down well. She tore up the withdrawal forms and said ‘over my dead body.’ She laid down the law and made a morbid joke.” Riley bowed her head.

“Maggie’s such a badass!” Piper smirked.

“She said savings were put aside for my college education and she’d never let her cancer stop me from getting a degree, but now she’s sick again and I keep thinking, if I had just done it…if I wasn’t here, I know she wouldn’t be in debt.”

Casey sighed. “And you’re fixing that by marrying PuckHead.”

“He gets what he wants…and I do, too.”

“Ahh, true love? Who needs it! It’s overrated, anyway,” said Casey, bumping her shoulder.

“I don’t think it’s overrated.” Riley looked weary. “And I do care about Josh. I did love him…once. Maybe I will again—” Her phone glowed with a text from Erika.

Rye! Check out this link for wedding invites—

She scoffed and turned her phone over.

“Ugh, let’s hope not. Save your heart for someone who’s worthy of it.” Casey locked eyes with Piper. “Look, promise me once your mom’s fine, you’ll divorce Josh’s ass.”

Piper leaned forward. “Rye, we get it. You’re doing what you think is best for your mom. We’ll support whatever you decide to do, but make me a promise, too?”

“You guys and your promises.” Riley smiled. “What? I use your mom as the divorce lawyer?”

Piper pointed at Riley’s phone. “Text Ben.”

“Why?” Casey scrunched up his face.

“I think he could help, you know, get your mind off things,” said Piper. “He’s not at Tisch and he doesn’t know anything about Maggie. He’s funny and he’ll make you smile—God knows you need that kind of escape right now. Plus, he’s basically alone here…I’m sure he’d like to hear from you.”

A chance to escape. A flutter tickled the heaviness in her chest. “Okay. Maybe.”

Piper giggled. “He wore Christmas pudding socks on our date. How cute is that?”

Casey raised his eyebrows.

What’s a Christmas pudding? Don’t ask Case. He won’t shut up.

The three friends sat quietly for a moment, watching the fountain rise and fall, soundtracked by the ‘oohs’ of overheated tourists and giggly children.

“Oh, shit!” Piper rose quickly, discarding the empty cookie box on the fountain’s edge. “I have my Pitching Stories lecture in five. I gotta run. What do you guys have?”

“Cinematography for Advanced Productions. My prof wants to see my doc.” Casey snapped up the empty cardboard box.

“Library for me.” Riley picked up her backpack. “Gotta catch up on my notes.”

Piper swiped gloss over her lips then pulled Riley into a hug. “Don’t pull an all-nighter, okay? Text me before ten; I’ll bring you a bagel.”

“Thanks, but I’ll have escaped by then.” Riley waved as she headed to the southeast corner of Washington Square Park and Bobst Library.