Forty

Henley

“Conner hates me.”

I watch Tess’s shoulders stiffen under the weight of my words, the slope of them tensing for a brief moment before relaxing. I know I’m not being fair to her. That she’s Conner’s friend now, more than she is mine. I need to at least try to keep her from getting caught in the middle.

The problem is, she’s all I have here. She’s the only person I can talk to about this.

I think about the way he looked at me when I pulled back from whispering in his ear.

I’m still hoping you’ll change your mind.

I thought I was being so clever. So cool. I wanted to prove it didn’t bother me. That I didn’t care that he had some other girl exactly where he had me, just last night. I wanted him to know I understood what this was. What we were. That I could do casual, just as easy as he could.

But when I pulled away and looked up at him, He looked like I’d just spit on him.

“He doesn’t hate you, Henley,” she says, cutting into her stack of pancakes with the kind of precision you’d see a surgeon perform a triple bypass. “He’s just… different than he was when you knew him. It’s going to take time for the two of you to get to know each other again, is all.”

Time. The one thing I don’t have.

As soon as we walked into the diner, we were swallowed by a crush of people. Drunk college kids and blue-collar types, mixed with more than a few affluent types, all standing around, waiting for a table.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else,” I say snagging Tess’s arm before she disappeared too deep into the crowd.

“Don’t worry,” she says giving me a crooked smile. “We’ll get a table.”

As soon as she says it, a loud voice erupts from behind the hostess station. “Hey, Audrey.” A face appears, hovering just above the podium, a pair of sharp, dark brown eyes peering up at us. It’s the same waitress who worked here when I was younger, Nora. I recognize her instantly. “Where're my boys?”

“Just me and my friend tonight.” Tess leans in, her smile softening around the edges. She could always be charming when she wanted to be. “Cap’n’s still wrapping stuff up at the bar, and Con said he had someplace to be.”

“I bet he did.” The cackle that erupts from behind the podium is loud and raucous. “That boy’s a walkin’, talkin’ pile of trouble,” she says while her sharp gaze rakes over my face. “What you lookin’ at, Rita?”

Rita?

I open my mouth to tell her my name isn’t Rita, but Tess stops me by putting a hand on my arm. “Nora, you remember Henley O’Connell, don’t you?”

As soon as she says my name, Nora’s eyes narrow on my face, making me feel self-conscious. Even though I look nothing like I did eight years ago, I still find myself worried that the woman will recognize me. “Henley O’Connell, huh?” she says, her sparse eyebrows arched high on her wrinkly forehead. “You’re the girl who broke my Con’s heart.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, and I had the distinct impression that she was contemplating ripping out my jugular with her teeth.

“Well—”

“Is the booth open?” Tess cuts in, saving me from saying something that would undoubtedly make things worse. “I need pancakes.”

As soon as Nora turned feral, she settled again with another loud cackle. “Girl, you always need pancakes.” She shoots me another sharp look before she waves her hand. “Booth’s open—I’ll send Tina over with coffee.”

Tess hauls me away before anything else can be said.

Now, I look up from my French toast, aiming a scowl at her bent head. “Well, Nora sure as hell hates me.”

“She’s protective of her Gilroy boys. Even Declan.” Tess laughs, lifting one shoulder higher than the other. “I suppose if Cari were here, she’d get a tongue lashing too.”

“Cari?”

“Cari Faraday—she’s a friend,” Tess tells me around a mouthful of pancakes. “Patrick met her in college, and they became roommates. And then more the roommates...” She shrugs her shoulders. “She moved back home a few months ago. Ohio.” She says it like it’s a dirty word. I can tell there’s more to the story but whatever the more is I’m not going to get it out of her. Not today.

We sit here for a few minutes, neither one of us saying anything. Before the silence can grow uncomfortable, I remember something I wanted to tell her. “Oh! You’re never going to guess who I ran into this afternoon.” Before she can take a guess, I keep talking. “Jessica Renfro. She was in the elevator of my apartment building with Ephraim Viaga.” I don’t have to tell Tess who Ephraim Viaga is. She’s almost as big a Red Sox fan as I am. “They were all over each other, and she didn’t recognize me, so I…” I let my story trail off as I watch the color drain out of Tess’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“You saw Jessica with Ephraim Viaga?”

I let my smile fall flat because I get the sudden impression that what I saw isn’t as funny as I thought it was. “Yeah. This afternoon. In the elevator of my apartment building. My guess is a lot of major leaguers live there during the season since it’s right across the street from the ballpark.”

“Did you tell anyone else?” Her hand shoots across the table to clip itself around my wrist. “Connor? Did you tell Connor?”

The way she says it makes my stomach hurt. Like knowing that Jessica Renfro was sleeping with a baseball player was something that would upset him. I think about the way she used to show up at his house with her long blonde hair and perfect smile. She wanted Connor, but I had him, even if she didn’t know it. What if the tables were turned now? What if—

“Jessica is engaged to Declan.” Tess throws it out there, the declaration landing on the table between us with a dull thud. I know I’m staring at her with my mouth open because she sighs. “Yeah. I know.” She rolls her eyes in disgust, but I catch it. Hurt. Saying it hurts her. “They’re getting married next spring.”

“Declan?” I shake my head, completely unable to put the two of them together. It was always Conner she wanted. Conner, she pursued. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does if you know the story.” She pushes her plate away before easing herself out of our booth. “It’s a long one. One I’m willing to tell but not here.” She didn’t look willing at all. If anything, she looked resigned.

“Okay.” I stand up. Reaching into my purse, I pull out a few bills and toss them on the table without looking at the check. “Where are we going?”

Tess makes a sound in the back of her throat, reaching down to fan the bills I tossed across the table. “There’s a couple hundred dollars here,” she says, shaking her head at me. “The bill was less than thirty.”

“The service was excellent,” I say, fighting the flush that’s creeping up my neck. I let my mother dress me like a doll. I allowed Spencer to choose my college. Buy my cars. Send me on trips. This is the only way I actively spend the money I suddenly find myself drowning in. I give it away, every chance I get. “Now are you going to tell me about Jessica and Declan, or not?”

“Sure, okay.” Tess shrugs, like after thinking about it, my excessive tipping isn’t worth busting my chops over. “Come on—I’ll tell you all about it while you drive me home.”