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“It feels like a hammer literally fell on my head.” Audrey placed her forehead on the cool wood of their favorite table in their favorite booth at their favorite breakfast place in the world, just to the left of her huge plate of pancakes.
Lola, whose own head felt similarly worse for wear, reached toward their communal pile of bacon and crunched the edge. “We really pushed it last night.”
“I remember everything until right after Mark Rathburn ordered us a round of tequila at that last bar,” Audrey whispered. “As he told me where he thought I fit into the future of journalism.”
“Mark was drunker than both of us combined,” Lola told her with a laugh. “I don’t think you have to worry about embarrassing yourself.”
Audrey puffed out her cheeks and lifted her head. Boston rain splattered across the window as Lola slid her fork and knife through the pulp of her own stack of pancakes, feeling heavy with a sense of loss. After all, a celebration of something meant that a portion of your life was over. She would never strive in her career in the same way. She would always be known as having “made it.”
“Burgers and breakfast,” Audrey said sadly as she crunched on a slice of bacon. “What else was on the food list?”
Lola shrugged. “Let’s not make ourselves sicker than we already are.”
Audrey laughed and rubbed her eyes, smearing her eyeliner. “Maybe instead, we should teleport back to the Vineyard. I’d like to sleep for the next week.”
Lola dropped her eyes to her plate, thinking about Boston and the intensity of her love for this city. Her life on the Vineyard was gorgeous, brimming with love. But if there was anything she’d taken from the gala and the night of her bachelorette party, it was this: Boston had been an integral part of her career and life. She couldn’t throw all that away; she couldn’t avoid acknowledgment.
“I want to drive by Valerie’s place,” Lola admitted suddenly, surprising herself.
Audrey arched her eyebrow. “Really?”
“I don’t know where to put my love for Valerie,” Lola continued. “She and Jenny were my family here in Boston. They basically helped me raise you. In so many ways, I never could have won that award if not for their support.”
“I don’t know what I would do without so much support on the island,” Audrey murmured as she slid a big piece of pancake through the syrup.
“They were my sisters, my best friends.” Lola swallowed a gulp of coffee as her mind cleared. “I need to stop by Valerie’s place. Ask if there’s a way to get through this together.”
“You want to just drop by? No calling?” Audrey asked.
“According to my phone, I texted her three times last night, with no answer,” Lola returned sheepishly.
“Oh no. Drunk texting your ex-best friend?” Audrey scrunched her nose.
“I know. Not a good look,” Lola replied.
“I guess dropping by is the only way to go, then.” Audrey fell back against the cushion of the booth. “Do you think she’d be willing to come with us to the pizza place? Or would she rather hit up the Chinese place?”
Lola laughed good-naturedly, grateful, as ever, that Audrey was willing to make a joke. “Unfortunately, I don’t think this conversation can be food-based.”
Audrey groaned. “If you say so.”
For the previous ten years, Valerie had lived in a little apartment building about fifteen minutes away from where Lola’s last Boston residence (which she’d finally given up about six months after she’d officially gone to the island). Lola drove the familiar route toward the apartment building as Audrey texted Noah in the front seat, laughing to herself about whatever inside joke they shared.
Once outside the apartment building, Lola shut the engine off and traced a path with her eyes to the first-floor apartment pathway, which she and Audrey had traced time after time en route to Val’s place.
“You want to come with me?” Lola asked.
Audrey nodded. “I’ll be your backup.”
“This isn’t, like, a mafia thing, Aud.”
“Whatever you say,” Audrey offered with a crooked grin. Lola laughed, despite everything.
Once outside, rain flattened itself across her forearms and upper forehead. Lola rustled her fingers through her greasy hair, wishing she’d bothered to scrub her scalp in the shower that morning rather than opting for a “rinse off.”
Valerie’s front door was just as non-descript as the other apartment doors, with only the APARTMENT NUMBER: 144 proof that this was, in fact, the place Valerie had resided for ten years. Lola rapped the front door, shoving away memories about Valerie’s horrendous attitude at her bachelorette party.
Hurt people hurt people.
But a split-second later, a man in his thirties with a cereal milk stain on his t-shirt answered the door. With a funny jolt, Lola thought: Is this Valerie’s new boyfriend? This milk-stained thirty-something?
“Hi!” Lola began, using her half-flirtatious voice.
The man dotted his fingers around his lips, trying to clean himself up. “Hello?” His eyes scanned from Lola to Audrey, who hung back, shifting her weight on her feet.
“Sorry to drop by like this,” Lola began, her head pounding with her hangover. “But I wondered if Valerie is around? I’m an old friend, and I really need to speak to her.”
The man scratched his bald spot and shook his head. “Valerie? Hmm. Yeah, that’s the woman I’m subleasing from, I guess?”
Lola’s stomach twisted. “She’s not here?”
The man shook his head. “No. I’ve lived here for about five months now.”
“And you have no idea where she is?”
The man bristled. “I guess if I did, I wouldn’t feel right about telling you that.”
“Listen, dude. My mother is Valerie’s best friend.” Audrey shot out.
Lola whipped a hand out as her smile widened. “Audrey, it’s okay. I respect that. Thank you.”
The man shrugged and stepped back, opening the door just the tiniest bit. Through the crack, Lola could make out all of Valerie’s old furniture and hung photographs and paintings, proof that most of Valerie’s life remained within those walls— the only that was missing was Valerie.
What the heck is going on? And why didn’t she mention that she’d moved somewhere else?
Once back in the car, Lola started the engine and allowed it to purr beneath them. Audrey buckled her seatbelt and crossed her arms. “Does this mean we should give up?”
“Not yet,” Lola murmured. “I want answers. And another cup of coffee.”
“Coffee, yes. And maybe a hair of the dog situation,” Audrey mumbled. “My head is threatening to explode.”
“We can get you a Bloody Mary in a little while,” Lola countered as she eased the car from the side of the road. “Can you do me a favor? Can you get Jenny on the phone?”
Audrey breezed through Lola’s phone passcode (something Lola didn’t know Audrey knew so well) and called Jenny. With the phone on speaker, each ring echoed through the little car until Jenny’s eventual answer.
“Hi, Lola.” Jenny sounded slightly stricken. “I can’t talk right this minute, but can I call you back after my shift?”
“So, you’re at the coffee shop this afternoon?” Lola breathed, relieved. She’d thought that Jenny normally worked most Sundays, a paycheck that helped her continue with her art career.
“Just like always,” Jenny affirmed. “You in town?”
“I’m going to stop by,” Lola offered.
“Great.” Jenny’s voice was high-pitched.
“Unless that’s not something you want? After what happened on the Vineyard, I mean,” Lola tried.
“Lola, we’ve been through so much together. Even though we’ve been distant lately, it doesn’t mean...”
Next came the sound of someone at the coffee shop, demanding why Jenny wasn’t paying attention to them. “I’ve been waiting in line for, like, five minutes. I need a latte to go. ASAP.”
“I’ll see you in fifteen, Jen,” Lola interjected.
“Yeah. See you in a bit.” Jenny hung up to tend to the customer as Lola and Audrey continued to creep through Boston traffic.
“You think Jenny will know where Valerie is?” Audrey asked.
“I can only assume so,” Lola tried. “Although who knows what happened after their stint on the Vineyard a few weeks back. Maybe our entire three-woman friendship has exploded. Maybe if today doesn’t work, it’s a sign that I really need to move on.”
The coffee shop that Jenny worked part-time at was called The Boston Bean. Lola had spent countless Sundays at the corner table, her glasses over the bridge of her nose and a half-eaten scone on a plate as she’d typed article after article. Jenny had always given her refills of coffee, extra snacks, and a listening ear when Lola got lost in the chaos of her head. All that had been years ago by then. Lola’s heart craved the intimacy of that friendship. She craved a home she no longer had.
Lola and Audrey stepped into the coffee shop to find Jenny in the throes of a Sunday rush. Lola and Audrey sat their hungover bodies at the same corner booth Lola had always called her own, waiting until the line diminished. When it finally did, Jenny came to their table with two lattes and two scones, sat them in the center of the table, and said, “It’s good to see my Lola back in her booth.”
Lola’s chest felt tight. “Jenny. It’s so good to see you.” She lifted up to hug her, dropping her chin on Jenny’s shoulder.
Jenny held the silence for a moment, clearly feeling complicated about Lola’s spontaneous meeting. When she stepped from the hug, she sniffed and said, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Mom was given a certificate of excellence in journalism last night,” Audrey explained as she tore through the edge of her scone.
“Wow. That must have been amazing.” Jenny’s eyes widened. “I can’t imagine what that must have felt like, Lola. So well-deserved after so many years of hard work.”
Lola’s cheeks burned. “I know that I have both you and Valerie to thank for that. You were there for me in everything I did. And I’m starting to feel that my running off to the island was more of an abandonment than I realized at the time. I was caught up in the drama of my family coming back together again, and I forgot to honor the family I’d built here.”
Jenny dropped her eyes to the table. “Thank you for saying that. You know that Valerie and I’s families aren’t out here on the east coast. We’ve tried our best to support one another, but...”
Jenny turned to greet three new customers as they entered, moving behind the counter to prepare their coffees and platters of snacks. Lola and Audrey continued to nibble at their scones distractedly.
When Jenny returned, Lola placed a hand over hers and said, “I’m just so sorry that I haven’t been here. I’ll never forgive myself.”
Jenny’s cheeks lost their coloring. “We’ll always love you, Lola. We want to be in your life. That’s all.”
Lola sipped her latte as she drummed up the courage to ask the next thing.
“I haven’t been able to get a hold of Valerie,” she continued.
Jenny’s eyes grew shadowed. “Yeah. I don’t know if she wants to talk to you.”
“And I get that. I just wish I could talk to her and explain my side. I wish we could open up about what’s going on in each other’s lives. But just now, I tried to stop by her place, and some other guy is living there?”
“You stopped by?” Jenny’s eyes bugged out.
“She wouldn’t answer me. I thought it was the easiest way,” Lola admitted. “But then some stranger opened the door and said he’s subleasing from her and that he wouldn’t tell me where she is.”
Jenny’s hands searched around the pocket of her apron distractedly. “I don’t know if she wants me to tell you this. But you know what? I’m worried about her, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“Money’s always been tight for Val,” Jenny continued. “Like, remember when you and I were just scraping through in our twenties? That’s how Valerie has lived her entire life. I think it must be exhausting for her. Like she never feels good enough or smart enough or rich enough to survive.”
Audrey pressed her hand against her cheek. “So, she couldn’t afford the apartment anymore?”
“She crashed with friends for a while,” Jenny affirmed. “She was with my boyfriend and me for about two weeks, but it got to be too much. I hated that I had to ask her to leave, but she understood. Now...”
Her eyes dropped toward the ground. Lola’s heart surged with fear. Now? What the heck did ‘now’ mean?
“Remember that guy she met on the Vineyard?” Jenny continued.
“What?” Lola demanded.
“You know. That guy she met at the wine bar in Edgartown. Harry something,” Audrey said.
“That’s right.” Lola half-remembered the image of Valerie in conversation with the Sheridans and Montgomerys, relating this beautiful moment when a decent man had bought her a drink. “You think she’s with him?”
Jenny scrunched her nose. “The thing is, Valerie refused to leave the Vineyard after your bachelorette party.”
Lola’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding? She’s been on the island the entire time?”
“I don’t know. She answers my texts and calls but is really cagey about details. I assume she’s still with him somewhere on the island, but I can’t be sure,” Jenny returned.
Lola felt gobsmacked. “And you can’t tell me anything else about him?”
“I don’t know.” Jenny furrowed her brow, removing a wrapped straw from her apron. “He’s a guy called Harry from the Midwest, living on Martha’s Vineyard. That’s all I can really remember right now.” She then yanked herself toward the front door of the coffee shop as she said, “I’ll be right there!” to a line of eight impatient customers.
In the silence that followed, Lola and Audrey looked shellshocked. After nearly two minutes, Lola shook her head ominously and said, “She’s been on the island the entire time?”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Audrey returned. “But with that journalistic head of yours, I have a hunch you’ll be able to find this mystery man.”
“I hope so.” Lola traced a strand of hair around the back of her ear. “I just don’t think she wants me to chase after her this time. Maybe, as a journalist, I also have to learn when to stop running.”
Audrey draped her hand over Lola’s. “All you can do is let her know how much you still care.”
Lola nodded, drew her phone from her pocket, and typed a message:
LOLA: Hi Valerie.
LOLA: I guess you can tell from my many text messages last night that I’m very hungover today.
LOLA: I hoped to catch you while I was in Boston, but I heard a rumor that you skipped town.
LOLA: Please know that I’m always here for you, even if I sometimes don’t show it.
LOLA: Love you forever, Val.