Page 46 of All's Well that Friends Well
That sometimes love is not enough. Feeling love for someone is not the same as choosing them every day. And not all relationships are good, no matter how wonderful they feel.
The way I clung to Maura was not healthy. The way she treated me at the end was not healthy—when her wild laughter and infectious smiles had turned to wild anger and infectious paranoia, desperate manipulation to keep me close while simultaneously trying to push me away.
We weren’t good for each other; neither of us had any business being in a relationship with anyone. We had moments of passion and nothing else.
But you can’t build a functional life on moments ofpassion. The help Maura needed wasn’t something I could give her; nor could she give me the security I relied on.
We were toxic, all the way to the end.
“So tell us,” Mrs. Delaney says, and I startle out of my thoughts. “How are you liking your job?”
I take a big bite and chew slowly so I can think about what to say.
I don’t love my job. But I’ve never loved my job. It’s a means to an end, something I’m adequate at that will allow me to earn money and survive.
“It’s fine,” I settle on, swallowing my bite of stew and trying not to grimace at how piping hot it still is. “About the same, really.”
Well—the same except for Juliet Marigold, who’s still trying to bring me cookies and handing out blinding smiles to anyone who so much as makes eye contact.
I’m about to go on, about to push Juliet out of my mind. But before I get that far, my phone buzzes from where it’s resting in my lap.
And I swear, it’s like sheknows.Like she can tell I was thinking about her. Because it’s Juliet’s name that pops up on my phone screen, and I’m so taken aback that I almost drop my spoon halfway between my bowl and my mouth.
“Sorry,” I say gruffly when I look up to see both Mr. and Mrs. Delaney looking at me, their faces curious. “Sorry. Just a—work.”
Apparently I have resorted to sentences that do not make grammatical sense.
“Anyway,” I go on, clearing my throat as my phone buzzes another time, then another, and another—that’sfourtexts in a row, is she insane?—“yes. Work is fine. It’stiring, but I don’t mind.”
“I hope you take time to rest,” Mrs. Delaney says, her brow puckering into a frown, and Mr. Delaney nods.
My mind flits to the fluffy comforter in Juliet’s old room, to the soft, soothing atmosphere, but I redirect myself quickly.
“I rest plenty,” I lie. “Don’t worry about me.” I pause and then change the subject. “How have you been?”
The tension drains out of me when they answer, accepting the shift in topic. It’s better when I don’t have to talk about myself; I barrel through the rest of my beef stew, listening as they update me on their lives recently. Mr. Delaney is retired, but he’s been having a hard time adjusting to life without his job as a school teacher; still, the warm look he shares with his wife tells me they enjoy the extra time together. There’s something sad there, though, too, and I know it comes from the lingering pain of losing Maura.
When there’s a break in the conversation, Mrs. Delaney jumps in to ask if I’d like another bowl of stew. Mr. Delaney is on his third, and yet he remains as tall and thin as ever. But I shake my head.
“I’m good, thank you. I’m going to use the restroom, though?—”
I break off as she points down the hallway, even though I’ve been here enough that I have the layout of this house memorized.
I don’t know why I’m going to the bathroom; I don’t need to. I guess it would just be nice to splash some water on my face and take a few deep breaths.
So I hurry down the hall and to the little bathroom, pristine and clean in a way the bathrooms at work never will be, no matter how much Juliet scrubs. Then, before I even realize I’m doing it, I’ve pulled out my phone, opening thefour texts from the woman who makes me want to pull my hair out.
The first one is normal enough.
Juliet Marigold
These peach bars smell really good!! Are you sure I can’t drop them off at your door even if you’re not home? You could sneak one tonight!
I roll my eyes. Is she still going on about the peach bars? I keep scrolling, checking what she said next.
Juliet Marigold
Otherwise I’m going to eat them all before they get wet. Allowing my baking to be ruined is nothing short of a travesty!!
