The only alone time we had was one night at the hotel. With her room adjoined to her parents, I couldn’t do the things I wanted to do to her. We could only do careful and quiet things, hands-covering-our-mouths things. Better than nothing, but it only leftme needing more.
The afternoon spent at Cheyenne and Miguel’s house wasn’t much different than Gretchen’s birthday celebration back in June. Everyone embraced Kelly, Paul, Drew and Reagan into the fold like one of their own. Kelly and Cheyenne hugged for the better part of four hours, two mothers exchanging and wiping each other’s tears.
Gretchen never told her parents about Winona’s role in everything, maintaining that it was her story to tell. When Winona pulled Kelly and Paul aside an hour into the party, I had an idea what was happening. One by one, Gretchen, Cheyenne, and Miguel joined the hushed conversation and I watched with bated breath to see how Kelly and Paul would respond to the knowledge of what Cheyenne’s sister had done.
“What’s going on?” Drew asked when he caught me staring. A gaggle of young boys ran circles around us as I held a football over my head, but I didn’t take my eyes off the conversation across the yard.
My response fell silent as Kelly hauled Winona into a hug, rivers of tears streaming down their cheeks.
I simply shrugged and said, “Not sure.”
That was three weeks ago. Gretchen and I have had twenty-four hours together in the past two months.
“Vining, if you’re gonna be a sour patch baby at your own birthday party, just go home,” Drew chides from across the high table.
I wouldn’t call it a party. Drew and Reagan arranged for a night at the bar with a few mutual friends. My parents even flew in to spend the weekend with me.
“Baby boy, turn that frown upside down,” Mom says with a smile and a kiss on my cheek.
Dad tilts his beer at his lips. “What is it, two more months?”
“A little less, yeah.”
Gretchen wanted to fly in for my birthday, but I told her to not spend the money. Soon enough we’ll have every day together, I had told her. I’m so wise and frugal.Dumbass.
“Ask him how many days?” Drew says, eyes aimed at a message he’s typing on his phone.
“I’m not that bad,” I defend, but I don’t have much fight left.
“How many days, Vining?”
I sigh. “Fifty-one.”
“There it is.” Drew shoves his phone in his back pocket. “Can I give you your birthday gift now? Or are you too much of a little bitch to get excited about presents?”
I glare at him.
He swipes his beer from the table. “You’re welcome for this, by the way.”
“For what?” I ask.
My best friend’s response is nothing but a smug grin and a tip of his bottle over my shoulder.
I spin on my barstool. The breath gets knocked right out of my lungs when I see her. Gretchen stalks across the bar, heart-stopping smile set entirely on me. I’m out of my seat in an instant, sweeping her into my arms in three strides.
“Happy Birthday,” she whispers.
“How are you here?” I pull back to look at her, but my mouth is on hers before she can answer.
“Drew bought my plane ticket. I have to go back tomorrow night.”
I shake my head in disbelief and turn to find Drew in the crowd. When our eyes meet, I mouth,“thank you.”
Gretchen squeals in delight when she spots my parents. She drops into the seat beside them like she’s got all the time in the world and for forty-five minutes, I am patience personified. A saint, if you will. I feed her. I keep her Diet Coke full. And I listen as she and my parents catch up as hard as the day is long.
The moment she takes the last bite of her burger, I toss a wad of bills on the table, politely ending this charade. “Mom, Dad, I love you, but we’re leaving now.” Dad chuckles while Mom looks scandalized.God love her. Gretchen ducks her head in quiet laughter. Me? I’m not the least bit embarrassed that my parents know exactly what Gretchen and I are about to be up to for the next twenty-four hours, if I have anything to say about it.
With a final wave to my friends, I grab Gretchen’s suitcase from behind the bar, throw her over my shoulder and bolt for the door.
