Thirty-One
Piper and Casey were unmissable. Devouring homemade ice cream, their exaggerated pleasure-filled moans from the benches outside Sundaes and Cones turned heads at the corner of Third Avenue and East 10th Street. Even nose-deep in her black sesame ice cream, Piper kept scanning the crowds for her best friend. “Rye!” She leapt to her feet, her lopsided waffle cone threatening to topple.
Riley barely raised a smile. It wasn’t just her backpack and tote weighing her down.
“You okay?” asked Piper. “I couldn’t believe it when I got your texts…”
“That’s a lie.” Casey lowered his cone, smirking over his hazelnut double scoop. “Don’t deny it, you’ve been hoping—”
“I know!” said Piper through gritted teeth. “But you don’t have to mention that now.”
Sitting down beside Casey, Riley set her backpack by her feet and checked her phone, still waiting for a response from her mom. “It’s okay. I know you guys weren’t his biggest fans.”
“But are you okay? You did the right thing, you know.” Piper joined them on the bench as Casey chomped into his ice cream. “Would you stop doing that?” She winced across Riley. “You make my teeth throb!”
He took another huge teethy bite. “Feel the pain, Paisley!” The garbled words barely escaped his mouth as he gently elbowed Riley, trying to make her smile.
Sandwiched between her friends, Riley hugged her tote and grinned for the first time since breakfast. I couldn’t love these guys more. “Case, how’d it go last night? I’m so sorry I missed it.”
“Ah, it’s okay. No one’s watched it more than you have.” He smiled. “Last night was good. Fifty people showed, nobody walked out, and my parents bought it—they think Pip’s my girlfriend. Gets ’em off my back for now.”
“And guess who turned up?” Piper beamed over her cone. “Cicely.”
Riley sat up. “The girl from Peet’s?”
“Yep! We’re going on our first date next week.”
“Aw, Pip!” Riley smiled. “I’m so happy for you!”
“I’m happy for you. PuckHead is his-tor-y!”
“Josh isn’t a bad guy, a little selfish sometimes, but he never cheated, never—”
“Supported you.” With a dismissive flick, Piper smoothed her cropped black capris. “I think he used your depression to manipulate you. He never listened, never put you first…”
“Yeah, I know. He wasn’t reliable, and the engagement only made it worse…”
“I swore a blue fucking streak when I saw your text about that TV job,” said Piper.
Casey tsked. “Another Starbucks we’re banned from.”
“His assumption that you’d just blindly take a job you had no interest in like a good girl? That shows exactly how much he didn’t get you!” A river of dark ice cream crept down Piper’s hand as she leaned in.
“Pip, you’re like a four-year-old with that cone.” Casey’s free hand rooted around in his messenger bag and reappeared with hand wipes. “You’re a germy, gooey clusterfuck.” A wipe sailed over Riley’s lap, landing on Piper’s thigh. She quickly mopped up the sticky dessert.
“I wanted to help Mom so badly…but sitting in that fancy restaurant, I couldn’t block it out anymore. I was using him, and it made me sick to my stomach.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. It’s not like you were doing it for selfish reasons,” said Casey.
“If Mom knew what I’d been thinking, she’d be livid. I had to let him go, even if I hurt him—and I really didn’t want to hurt him.” Riley’s nose began to tickle. Don’t cry! You’ve held it together this long. She pulled a tissue from her tote. “Ah, God, I feel even more lost now.”
Piper sighed. “Breakups suck.”
“I have to live with it: I stomped on Josh’s heart and I’ve destroyed the only financial lifeline we had. The medical bills aren’t going to stop just because I did the right thing.” She shook her head. “I came this close to buying a lottery ticket on my way here. Can you say ‘desperate’?”
“Where’s Josh now?” asked Casey.
“Headed to his parents. He’ll stay with them until he flies back Sunday night. He’s got an interview with Sports Illustrated first—”
“Does he now? Well, someone won’t be sitting in his old bedroom crying all weekend, then.” Casey sneered. “Privileged prick. I hate jocks.”
Riley glanced at Piper, ice cream trickling over her cone’s edge again, eyes scrunched in thought. “Hey, we’re dissing Josh, your fave pastime—why so quiet?”
“A crowdfunding page, that’s still an option,” said Piper.
“Asking strangers for money is so…I’m not sure Mom would like me advertising her illness or money problems on the internet. Plus there’s that study I found—ninety percent of campaigns don’t meet their goal. Lots don’t receive any donations. If Mom’s page had a big fat zero, it would break my heart.”
Casey crunched through his cone. “I’ve seen lots of pages racking up donations.”
“Yeah, from the arts crowd—for your friends’ documentaries,” said Riley.
“Not just that. A friend of a friend’s dad”—he chewed quickly—“he needed money for stroke therapy and raised thirty thousand dollars. It’s possible, you know. What do you have to lose?”
She shrugged.
“You don’t ask, you don’t get.” Casey popped the last chunk of cone into his mouth.
“I guess. What would I have to do? Will you guys help me?”
Her friends spoke simultaneously. “Yes!” “Shit, yeah.” Piper flung her ice cream into the bin beside the bench.
Casey pouted. “There’s half left!”
“One word: diabetes,” said Piper.
“God, you’re not becoming diabetic.” Casey scoffed under his breath. “Delusional, yes. Diabetic, no.”
Riley’s phone vibrated in her lap with a text from Maggie.
Sweetheart, come home. I’ve got hugs & smiley face potatoes. x
“I should go. I’m staying at Mom’s.”
“All weekend?” Piper licked her fingers.
“Just tonight. I’m supposed to visit Ben at work tomorrow.”
Casey’s eyes darted between Riley and Piper. “So, when do I get to meet the mysterious Ben?”
“When you stop pretending to be British,” said Piper. “Us Brits find it irritating.”
Riley changed the subject. “Case, you working tomorrow?”
“Yep.” He nodded. “Popcorn for dinner again.”
“Popcorn can count toward your five a day,” said Piper.
“That’s a stretch.” Casey chuckled. “I’m hoping they’ve fixed their claw machine. The rescue needs more toys for the dogs.”
Riley hugged him then stood up. “You’ll score a bunch—you always do.”
“Text if you need me and give Maggie a hug.” Piper rose to her feet and embraced her friend. “You did the right thing.”
“Keep telling me that until I believe it.” Chin hovering over Piper’s shoulder, Riley met Casey’s eyes, his kind expression unable to soothe the worry fluttering in her stomach.
• • •
Sunshine danced across the gentle waves of New York Harbor as the orange ferry carried tourists and locals toward Staten Island. With every passing minute, Lower Manhattan receded a little farther, but the watery gulf did little to distance Riley from her decision; she feared its ripples would affect her and Maggie for months to come. I can walk away from Josh, but the fallout is impossible to outrun. Sunglasses hiding her tears, Riley slumped on the railing, the wind whipping her hair and thoughts into a tangle.
What have I done? Failed Mom. Hurt Josh.
Beside her, a cluster of merry Italian tourists snapped selfies with a distant Statue of Liberty, torch thrust confidently into the cloudless April sky, her promise of enlightenment, freedom, and hope all on Riley’s wish list. One of the group, a raven-haired woman wearing an ‘I Heart NY’ t-shirt knotted at her waist, held her hands just so, making it look like Lady Liberty was balancing on her palm. With a laugh, she kissed her tanned male companion and sank into an embrace, their eyes never leaving each other.
Josh and I were like that once. Just because you no longer love someone doesn’t mean saying goodbye won’t hurt. We shared memories, secrets…the pain and sweetness of the past, the fears and hopes for the future. If I did the right thing like Piper says, why does it hurt so much?
Her phone buzzed in her hand. She guessed who it was before looking at it. Erika. What was it this time? A list of bands for her and Josh’s reception…photo booth vendors? Even before she had called off their engagement, Riley had grown sick of these continual nudges down the aisle, and the nauseous feelings were rising again. She wiped away her tears and tapped the call button. Get it over with.
Erika picked up two rings in. “Rye! So, whadya think? Aren’t the hockey player cake toppers adorable?” Her words rolled fast and furious. “If you tell them Josh’s uniform colors, they’ll custom paint his figure. He’ll LOVE—”
“Eri, it’s over. I broke up with him—”
“WHAT?!”
“—this morning, so no need for cake toppers or bridesmaids…or anything else.”
Holding back tears, Riley told Erika everything and tried to wrap up the call three times, but Erika kept lobbing questions. When Riley’s answers weren’t satisfactory, the bride-to-be shifted to advice for fixing the unfixable. They were going around in circles, their conversational carousel heading nowhere quickly.
“But Rye, you’re giving up so much…”
Riley stood her ground, choking back tears.
“Fudge!” Erika huffed. “Gotta go. Stanley’s using our new leather sofa as a chew toy. Talk later?”
Call over, Riley couldn’t hold back any longer. Warm tears chased down her cheeks as melodic Italian accents happily sailed along the breeze. Carefree and reveling in their ferry adventure, the smitten couple glanced at Riley and looked uneasy. They shifted down the railing as if her heartbreak was contagious.
I’m not kidding myself. I know Josh’s money couldn’t guarantee a cure, but it would’ve alleviated some of Mom’s stress, erased the fear of losing her apartment. Pitching in on her medical expenses was the ONE thing I thought I could help her with, and now I can’t even do that…
As she stared into the water, the skirt of Riley’s sunny yellow dress flirted with the light wind. She spun her mom’s moonstone ring around and around her finger, wishing for a miracle.