My walk home from the beach is longer than normal since I’m avoiding Jill’s house. Seven days. It’s been seven whole days since I’ve talked to Jill. We’ve never gone that long without talking before.
CeCe’s still mad at me, too. But I’m used to her not talking to me, to the angry looks she throws in my direction. I did get her to listen to me for a minute when she was in the middle of some cooking experiment. I knew she wouldn’t walk away, so I took the opportunity to get all my words out.
I apologized for the way I acted and told her to tell Beau that I wanted to apologize to him, too. I told her that it hadn’t been fair of me to jump to conclusions about Beau, and that I was okay if they still hung out—as long as they weren’t alone at either house, or behind any closed doors. I’d hoped the message would make its way to Jill, but no such luck.
At this point, I’m not even sure I want to talk to Jill anymore. I’ve officially gone from sad to mad—I get what I did was insensitive, but her shutting me out during one of the toughest times in my life, that’s worse.
I thought about texting her to say that I wasn’t going to try anymore, but that kind of defeats the purpose. I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t realize anyone is sitting out on the front porch until I’m standing on the top step.
“Hi,” Jill says.
I look from her to Tommy, who is smiling a don’t be mad at me smile. “Hey, babe.”
“Don’t ‘hey, babe’ me.” I turn to Jill. “If you’re not talking to me, you can’t talk to him, either.”
“Lex,” Tommy says in his shrink voice. The glare I shoot him makes him stop before he starts. They look at each other then back at me.
Dolly breaks the silence, humming as she walks out the front door with a small paper cup holding Tommy’s afternoon pills. She smiles at me, and when I don’t smile back, she follows my gaze to where Jill looks equally upset.
“I’ll just come back in a bit,” she says, disappearing into the house.
As soon as the door closes behind her, I look back at the two traitors. “Aren’t you going to say anything? Either of you?” I know I told them not to say anything, but since when do either of them do what I say?
“I asked Jill to come over,” Tommy says. “So you both could talk.”
“I’m listening,” I say. I’m done trying to talk.
“I’m ready to hear your apology,” Jill says.
“Ha!” The laugh that comes from my mouth doesn’t sound like my own. “My apology window has passed, sister. It’s your turn to say you’re sorry.”
“Me? You’re the one who insulted my son.”
“And I told you I was sorry—but you abandoned me when I needed you. When I didn’t have anyone else.”
“You have someone else,” Tommy says. “I’m still here.”
“You know it’s not the same,” I tell him. I turn back to Jill. “I needed you.” I brush a tear from my eye before it has a chance to fall. I don’t want her to know how much she hurt me.
“I needed you, too,” Jill says.
We both stand there, looking at each other. I wonder if she’s thinking what I am, that our friendship is almost as old as we are.
“We don’t fight,” Jill says. “So I don’t know how we’re supposed to make up.”
I’m not sure, either, but I’m also not that mad anymore. I’m the one who started this whole thing, and I know I should be the one to make it right.
“Truce?” I ask.
Her bottom lip quivers and she nods before lunging toward me with her arms wide open.
Jill wraps me in the hug I’ve been craving all week, and there would be no stopping the tears now even if I wanted to. Over her shoulder, I see Tommy smile, proud of himself for a job well done.
He pushes the swing back to get enough momentum so he can stand on his own. I drop my arms from around Jill to help Tommy back inside but he shakes his head.
I watch his slow, careful steps as he makes his way into the house, which makes me cry even harder. He pauses at the door, smiling again before going inside.
“Promise me we’ll never go that long without talking again?” Jill says.
“You’re the one who wasn’t answering my calls.”
“I hated being mad at you,” she says.
“You should never do it again.” I take her hand and we both walk toward the swing. “I told CeCe I wanted to talk to Beau myself, to tell him I’m sorry.”
“He told me.”
“And you were still mad?”
“No,” she admits.
“Then why didn’t you call me back?”
Jill sighs. “I don’t know, I was scared.”
“Of me?”
Jill nods.
“Look at me,” I tell her. “I am the same girl who busted her knee on your front sidewalk when I was seven because I couldn’t run fast enough to see you even though I’m the clumsiest human alive.”
She smiles, but I still don’t think she gets it. Luckily, I have a life full of memories I can remind her about.
“When we were twelve, it was me, sitting on the bathroom counter with you, putting ridiculous amounts of makeup on because we thought it would make us look older.”
“We looked ridiculous,” she says with a hint of a smile. “That was the night you kissed Jack.”
“And if he wasn’t gay, I would have married him just so I could be your sister.”
She laughs at that one.
“We’ve been through so much together,” I remind her. “You’re the one who made me see a future with Tommy was possible.”
“And you were the first one who tried to make me see that my future might be better off without Adam.”
“I’m still sorry about that,” I tell her.
“I’m not,” she says. Her eyes are brimming with tears and I wrap her in a hug.
“Don’t ever be mad at me again,” I tell her. I pull back so I can look her in the eye to ask the next question that’s been on my mind all week. “You were lying about the timer going off, weren’t you?”
Jill laughs. “I missed you.” She leans in to give me another hug.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m very missable.”
I squeeze her back, ready to tell her the idea that brought me to her doorstep last week. I’ve been mulling it over for the past few days, and I know I can’t pull it off without Jill’s help. I need her on my side, now more than ever. And I don’t want Tommy to know what I’m planning. Not yet.
“I need your help with something,”
“What?”
“Not here.” I look behind me, where I imagine Tommy is sitting by the window, trying to hear the rest of our conversation.
It’s what I would do.