Owning my own businessis one of the hardest and easiest things I’ve ever done. Hard in all the ways you’d expect—long hours, unreliable pay, figuring out how to do all the things no one ever taught me to do. But it also has its perks—being my own boss, setting my own hours, and taking long lunch breaks with my best friend whenever I feel like it.
Like right now, for example.
I let myself into Nora’s craftsman-style house, not bothering with knocking, since it will never be heard over the sound of her toddler’s screeching laughter, and definitely not trying the doorbell that’s been broken since she moved in. Paper bags full of sandwiches from the deli crinkle in my hands as I kick the door shut behind me, yelling, “Nora, I’m here.”
A moment later, her head of dark hair piled into a messy bun pops around the corner. She’s got a relieved smile on her face, the kind of happy, tired one that every mom of young kids always seems to sport. Like she’s absolutely exhausted down to her bones but wouldn’t have it any other way. Sometimes when I look at myself in the mirror, and I notice the missing lines on myforehead, the way the skin under my eyes is bright, the smooth skin on my stomach where stretch marks would be, I find myself wishing for those “imperfections” that Nora complains about. They’re proof of a life that I’d give anything to live.
“I love you,” she says when I step into her kitchen and drop the lunch bags on her messy marble countertops. There’s flour and dirty dishes from breakfast, a sticky residue that I’d guess is syrup.
“Finny,” Veer squeals, running on chunky, wobbly legs to wrap himself around my calves.
Bending down, I heft him onto my hip, nuzzling my nose in the crook of his neck. “Hello, my favorite boy in the entire world,” I say into his skin, then turn back to Nora. Relief is painted on her face. Her husband’s dirty, oversized T-shirt hangs off her shoulders and a pair of pajama pants that we bought in high school covers her bottom half, hers sporting a hole in the knee that mine is free of. “Long morning?”
She nods, letting out a sigh as she sags against the counter. “Devina was up all night teething and hasn’t stopped crying all morning. I just got her down for a nap.”
I wince, looking in the direction of her room, the last door at the end of the long hallway. “Was I too loud when I came in?”
“No,” she says, barking out a tired laugh. “The sound machine is up so loud that she wouldn’t be able to hear a freight train.”
My lips roll together to hold in my smile. “Well, I brought lunch.”
“I could kiss you,” she says, digging in the bags.
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Raj too, probably.” She pauses, tilting her head back and forth as if considering. “Well, maybe he wouldn’t care.”
“That’s very generous of him,” I respond, smoothing my hand over Veer’s soft baby hair. “I’ll stick with my decision, regardless.”
She flashes me a grin before opening one of the sandwiches and letting out a groan. “You got me a meatball sub?” She says this as if I just offered to give her my liver.
“Yes, Nora. We’ve been friends for two and a half decades now. I know what sandwiches you like,” I deadpan, setting Veer down when he begins to wiggle in my arms.
“I’m putting you in my will.”
“I’m offended you haven’t already.”
The kitchen table is covered in baby toys and laundry, so the two of us settle onto the barstools at the counter, pushing breakfast dishes out of the way, and eat our subs on the deli paper. I nod at the third sub in the bag. “I brought turkey and cheese for Veer.”
Nora waves me off, hooks a thumb over her shoulder to where Veer has scurried off to the living room and plopped himself on the couch. “He ate mac and cheese before you got here. He gets thirty minutes of TV before his nap. Now I can eat in peace.”
“Can I have a bite of your sub?” I ask, just to see her reaction.
Her eyes narrow at me, and she pulls the sandwich closer to her body. “You wouldn’t dare.”
A laugh bubbles up inside me, spilling out. “No, eat your lunch in peace, Nora.”
She takes a giant bite and asks around the mouthful, “So I heard things were hot and heavy between you and Grey at Matty’s the other night.”
Nora and my family are the only ones who know about the arrangement Grey and I struck, so it should make me happy that we set the rumor mill running Saturday night, but instead it makes heat climb up my cheeks. He was different that night. I’ve never had his casual charm, his easy flirtation, directed at me, but that isn’t even what that was. Instead, it was an intense focus, a hand splayed low on my stomach, the rasp of his voice in my ear, his stubble scraping a line up my neck. It makesme wonder ifthat’show he is when he’s interested in someone, if all the other times I’ve seen him flirting with women were times when he was just having fun. I don’t think he’s actually interested in me, but I think I might have viewed all those interactions he had with women in the wrong way. Maybe he was just making conversation with them, being his charming self, and not trying to pick them up. Maybe he’s very different when he actually wants someone. I can’t lie and say it didn’t affect me, making my skin prickle and an unfamiliar want pool low in my belly.
I don’t wantGrey, but I want whatever he was doing Saturday night in Matty’s crowded bar. I’m a firm believer that you never know how much you need something until it’s been dangled in front of you and taken away. I knew I was lonely before Gus, that I wanted to get married and have the kind of life I always dreamed of as a kid, but the feeling wasn’t as acute until I almost had it and it was ripped from my grip. I didn’t know that intense focus and heavy-handed touches and a rough voice whispering in my ear were things I needed until Grey, and now I know I won’t be able to settle for anything less. Not the way Gus seemed to like touching me but didn’t act as though hehadto be. Not the way he was always half-present when we were together, his phone only an arm’s length away at any given moment, in case someone else needed him.
I can’t settle for that kind of relationship again. And I know that after one evening where Grey pretended he couldn’t get enough of me.
“I guess,” I bring myself to say to Nora.
She arches one dark, thick brow in a way I’ve always been jealous of. Her kids will absolutely never be able to pull anything over on her.
