He’s so fucking ridiculous, Gretchen thinks.And he’s the best friend I’ve ever had.
The idea of losing any of it is like her heart’s being haphazardly chipped away, a block of wood in the hands of an overeager novice whittler.
At least she’ll still have Yolanda. Maybe she’ll even figure out how to reach out a little more, ease into friendship. Test the waters to see if Everett’s right, if it hurts any less than what she’s been doing—less than the loneliness, which, she now admits to herself at least, has started hurting an awful lot.
As Gretchen sells some herb chèvre to a woman who’s asked four times now if she’scertainit’s gluten-free, she notices Yolanda and Penny approaching. They come to a stop a short distance away, turning to face each other. Because Yolanda is so much taller, she has to look down while Penny looks up. Their fingers intertwine, Penny giving Yolanda’s a squeeze before lifting up on her tiptoes to plant a small kiss on her jaw. Then Penny walks in the opposite direction, and Yolanda continues her approach to the table where Gretchen has finally dispatched with her customer, looking for all the world like she’s about to cry.
“Gretch,” Yolanda says.
“What’s wrong?” Is it possible Gretchen just witnessed Penny breaking up with Yolanda? Seems unlikely; based on their few encounters, she’s always found the petite woman Yolanda insists is not her girlfriend to be a mixture of calm and practical. Not the type to welcome the chaos of dropping that kind of bomb before having to ride in a car together for the next hour. But even though she doesn’t know Penny all that well, Gretchen is an expert on Yolanda after years of living together. And the way she’s worrying her bottom lip before responding means she’s either deeply upset or nervous about something.
“I—” But then she changes course. “Can we talk?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure. Let me just put this stuff away.”
Yolanda helps Gretchen carry the cheese cooler and box of soap up to the second floor of the barn. Wordlessly, they go back down the stairs and walk toward the creek, postponing what is apparently going to be an emotional conversation.
She’s going to tell me she’s quitting, and I’m never going to see her again.The realization hits Gretchen like a goat headbutting her in the solar plexus. And it hurts. She thought she would be safe from it, that she kept enough distance, but all she can think about is how much she missed out on by not letting Yolanda in. Three whole years that she could have had hugs and laughter and companionship with this wonderful person, all wasted in some foolish attempt to prevent herself from having to feel this pain again. Pain that’s come for her regardless.
Was Everett right? It’s hard to imagine that letting herself love and be loved would have made this hurtless.
At least this, she knows from experience, she can survive. Yolanda is far from the first person to leave her or be all too happy to see her go. Her mother, her father, Lawrence Biller. Supposedschool friends who forgot her as soon as she left town. Lovers who enjoyed her company for an hour or two, then merrily sent her on her way. Clients like Mrs. Van Alst, who all stop coming around after a while in bittersweet confirmation that she’s done her job well.
“It’s okay,” Gretchen blurts out when they reach the sparse shade of a giant weeping willow that grows right where the creek starts to curve. “It’s okay. I knew this would happen one day.” Because it always does. Things come to an end. People you care about leave you. That’s life.
Relief smooths Yolanda’s features, and then she throws herself at Gretchen again, wrapping her arms tightly around her upper body. “I should have known you wouldn’t be surprised. You predicted it, after all. I thought you were just teasing, bullshitting like usual. But I don’t know, maybe you do have a gift, because I never said a word to Penny, and yet, when it happens at the end of April, it’ll be almost exactly a month, like you said.”
Gretchen feels vaguely lost for a moment before she remembers the last conversation they had before she left for Gilded Creek. “You’re moving in with her. That’s great.”
“I wanted to tell you earlier, when we first got here and you asked about things at home, but I chickened out.” She drags the toe of her sneaker through the grass. “I’m happy, Gretchen. So happy. And excited. But I’m also... I’m also kind of heartbroken.”
“Heartbroken? Why?”
A tear slips out of the corner of Yolanda’s eye and she swipes it away. “God, I’m sorry I’m so emotional. But I just... love you so much, you know? I’m going to miss living together.”
For some reason, this hurts even more. This hammering homethat there was always the possibility of affection between them, there for the taking if only she had been brave enough. She didn’t have to spend the last three years feeling so alone. And now that she’s finally willing to admit that the friendship is mutual and always has been... well, it’s the very definition of too little, too late. “I’m sorry I’ve always been so—” Gretchen shakes her head. No, no point in bringing it up now.Lean into the truth whenever you can. She tightens her grip around Yolanda and coerces a bit of honesty from deep inside herself. “I love you and I’ll miss you too, but I’m really happy for you and Penny.”
“I can still work for you,” Yolanda says as the hug comes to a close. “I plan to quit at the salon once I finish my yoga teacher training, but I’ll still keep up my connections there, and we can meet for lunch, or I can call you every single day, tell you what I’ve heard so it isn’t in writing—”
“We’ll make it work,” Gretchen assures her, even though she’s unsure if that’s true. She probably can’t afford to pay Yolanda if it’s not in the form of a substantial discount in rent. Not to mention the few hundred Yolanda did contribute covered most of the utilities. The ten thousand from Mrs. Van Alst—if she even gets to keep it—is only going to last so long, and then what?
And if they aren’t working together, will Yolanda really make time for her? Her past tells her no, but she wants so much to believe...
That’s a problem for later. “Remember,” Gretchen says, “name the cat Mitsy.”
Yolanda rolls her eyes and lets out a wet chuckle. “Now,that’sstill not happening.”
“I was right about you and Penny. And I do talk to a ghost forreal now. Maybe my powers are actually legit and the real con was convincing you they weren’t?” She widens her eyes at Yolanda until she gets another laugh out of her. It feels... so good. And that goodness is absolutely gut-wrenching.
“So all that info I’ve given you over the years?”
“Just wanted you to feel useful.” Gretchen smiles, though it doesn’t feel particularly sticky. It might slide off her face at any second. “Can I take the two of you out to dinner to celebrate?”
Yolanda checks her phone. “Ah, shit. Rain check? I’m supposed to sit in on a prenatal class at the studio tonight as part of my training, and Penny says we have to get going now if we’re going to make it back in time.”
It’s tempting to allow that familiar twinge to overwhelm her, to tell her that Yolanda isn’t only leaving the farm now and their shared apartment at the end of the month, butherandforever, but she fights through it enough to accept one last hug. “Okay. When I’m back in the city,” she says, aware that that feels like a hundred years from now instead of a couple weeks. “Maybe that fancy pizza place you like where they give you attitude if you ask them to slice it for you.”
Yolanda’s smile is so big and genuine that it bolsters Gretchen’s.
