“Be better, Jo,” I mutter, yanking my hair into a ponytail and making a beeline for the kitchen. I need an emotional support snack.
Five minutes later, I’ve decided I hate every single snack in my kitchen and that this moment requires tacos and french fries, a weirdly delightful food combination Hallie and her friends have gotten me hooked on over the years. But then I realize that procuring those snacks requires me to place the order on my phone, and I still have three minutes left of my ten-minute phone moratorium.
“Thank god,” I mutter at the knock on the door. I don’t even care who it is. I need the distraction before I lose my sanity entirely. If it’s the UPS guy, he better be prepared for a diatribe on the suckiness of long-distance relationships. But it’s not the UPS guy. When I throw it open, Hallie and Hannah are standing on my front stoop, laden down with bags, a donut box, and what looks like the makings for margaritas.
I mean to ask them what they’re doing here but instead what happens is I burst into tears, surprising myself and stunning them.
My sisters immediately drop their stuff and step forward, wrapping me in a hug.
“How did you know I needed you?” I whisper through hiccupping sobs. Fuck, I can’t even do tears undramatically. I really am who I am.
Hallie rubs a hand up and down my back. “We haven’t heard from you in a week. In Jo time, that’s practically a year.”
Hannah kisses the side of my head and tightens her arm around me. “In the past month, you’ve been living hundreds of miles away from your boyfriend who you’re head over heels in love with, quit your job, and started a brand-new consulting business. You’ve got a lot going on, and we figured you needed a little time to yourself. But a week is long enough, Jo Jo. You’re not built for solitude. You need people, and we’re your people.”
A fresh round of tears falls, and my sisters hold onto me until I cry myself dry. When I’m finally, blessedly, done, my eye catches on all the bags and boxes at their feet.
“What’s all this?”
Hannah grins and leans down to pick up some of the bags, dumping them on my coffee table. “We’re your emotional support first responders. We brought provisions.”
Hallie wraps an arm around my shoulders and guides me back to the couch. “What she means is, we thought you needed a girls’ night and to talk, so we brought all the things.”
“Shit,” I say, pressing my fingers into my eyes. “I’m really glad you’re here. I think I’ve lost my sanity a little bit.”
“Here,” Hannah says, flipping open the donut box and holding it out to me. “Have a donut. It’s always easier to talk after sugar.”
I grab a chocolate donut and take a big bite, letting the deliciousness soothe me. “Not bad,” I say through a mouthful. “What else you got?”
Hannah goes to the kitchen while Hallie starts unpacking the bags. “We’re making candy salad.”
I furrow my brow, thinking. “Okay, that sounds like something I’ll love, but I need more information.”
Without a word, she disappears to the kitchen, too, and comes back with a giant bowl. Tearing open what looks like ten different bags of gummy candy, she dumps them all into the bowl. Then she gives the whole thing a shake and sets it back down on the table, looking up at me with a satisfied smile. “See? Candy salad.”
My smile spreads, and I shake my head incredulously. “Hal that is, like, woman in STEM-level genius.”
She shrugs, plopping down on the couch and grabbing a handful of the candy. “Saw it online. I spend a lot of time scrolling on my phone in the middle of the night while I feed babies. I think I’ve read the entire internet at this point.”
I sit next to her and grab the bowl, setting it on my lap and tossing a handful of candy into my mouth. “Well, we appreciate your service.”
“Appreciate mine too,” Hannah says, coming out of the kitchen with a pitcher of margaritas and three glasses. She sets everything down on the coffee table and starts pouring, handing Hallie and me each a glass. “They’re strong. I couldn’t find your measuring cups, so I measured with my heart.”
I take a sip and huff out a laugh as tequila burns my throat. “Fuck, you guys better plan on staying here tonight because no one is driving after these.”
“We were planning on it.” Hallie kicks her heels up on the coffee table. “Ben is on baby duty tonight, and when we’re done with this, we’re ordering dinner and having a sleepover. You need us, Jo Jo, and we’re here.”
Turns out I don’t have as good a handle on my emotions as I thought I did because my eyes fill with tears again and I sniffle heroically. Hannah loops her arm through mine and lays a head on my shoulder. “Tell us where it hurts, Jo Jo.”
“I love him,” I whisper. “I love him so damn much and being away from him is really, really hard. Doing the right thing fucking sucks. You caught me at a bad moment because I sent him the most epic package, and he got it earlier tonight, but I haven’t heard from him yet, and even though I know it’s no big deal, I started to spiral.” I shrug and eat more candy. “I just miss him.”
“Ben is one hundred percent sure Jordan is head over heels in love with you too,” Hallie says, turning and sitting sideways on the couch, facing Hannah and me.
I sigh, leaning back against the cushions. “I know he is.”
Hannah studies me, brows furrowed. “If you’re in love with him, and he’s in love with you, why are you here and he’s there?”
I shrug. “Because he can’t say the words yet. At the end of the summer, all I wanted to do was run to Boston to be with him, but every instinct I have told me he wasn’t ready. And I knew if I went before he was ready, we wouldn’t stand a chance. I’m here because I’m trusting that when he’s ready to love me the way I know he can, he’ll let me know. He has to be the one to come to me, and it’s not, like, an ego thing or whatever. It’s a, he lost the love of his life less than three years ago and needs to be ready to start the rest of his life thing. I love him too much to push him into something he isn’t ready for. So instead of being there with him, I’m here, organizing my life so when he tells me he’s ready, I can move to Boston. Is that pathetic? Am I pathetic?”
