Fred opened the door with wet hair and a lazy smile. She leaned forward, kissed my cheek and took away the bunch of sunflowers that I’d held in front of my chest like protective gear for the entire walk to her apartment. This was all an extension of mine and Rowan’s break-up, one that I’d drafted and redrafted with the help of the girls – ‘Don’t be a dude about it, do you know what I mean?’ – although they hadn’t been altogether helpful when it came to breaking up with a woman – ‘See, when a man leaves me …’ – so in the end I’d called Fred, on a whim, and asked if I could drop round.
‘I’m about to jump in the shower,’ she’d said, ‘so give me twenty minutes?’
I’d used that time to write bullet points in the Notes app on my phone and buy flowers.
‘Flowers twice in as many weeks. What’s the occasion?’ She walked along the hallway, leaving me to close the door.
‘You are.’
‘Cute.’ When she turned around to look at me, the colours all connected. ‘These match!’
There was a collage of burnt oranges and bright yellows in Fred’s hallway. I hadn’t remembered much about the décor of the apartment – on account of my head usually being in a spin when I left, or arrived – but the latest flower portraits to bloom in the hall and the self-portrait in the living room had stuck.
‘It’s sweet that you noticed that. Drink?’ She was already walking to the kitchen. ‘I’ve got wine in the fridge if you’d like something with a kick, or coffee in the pot if you’d like something with … Hm, well, I suppose I only have things with a kick. Alcoholic or non-alcoholic, though, I can do.’ She started to rifle through drawers until she found a pair of scissors. One flower after the next she hacked away at the stems, and every romantic comedy in the world had taught me that when a woman was wielding a sharp object you probably shouldn’t break up with her. I stood on the other side of the kitchen counter and watched her; not from fear or worry, but with deep admiration – mixed with something like gratitude. Her head was angled towards the flowers still, but she looked up and caught me staring. ‘What?’
‘I didn’t say anything,’ I snapped.
‘No but you’re staring.’ She dropped the flowers into a vase and turned to fill it with water. ‘If you think it’s too early for wine then you can have coffee. Ah shit, or tea. I know it’s more your thing.’
I laughed. ‘You’ll have wine even if I think it’s too early?’
‘Ha! But you see …’ She turned in a dramatic swirl and flicked her hair out of the way. ‘I’m an artist, dahling. Plus, your decisions don’t impact on mine so …’ She winked. ‘What’ll it be?’
‘One gallery show and it goes to her head.’
‘Hey, you haven’t seen the space.’ She opened the fridge and pulled the wine out.
‘I’d like to, still. If that’s okay?’ I hadn’t even broken things off yet and I was already playing the part of the guilty one; skulking around like Fred mightn’t want me in her life anymore. And worse still, she looked like she sensed it. She was pouring wine already, so she only glanced up at me briefly, but I could see she was suspicious.
‘Shush, Edi, why wouldn’t it be okay?’
There had been a flurry of images delivered to my WhatsApp every day. Fred had sent me possibilities for this half of the space, other possibilities for the remaining half. She wanted a walk-through experience, she’d explained, starting with the girl and ending with the woman, tracked through portraiture. The captions she sent me with each picture became lengthier as the day went on and she became more consumed by her plans. But I hadn’t minded. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen someone with Fred’s passion for – well, anything. I sighed, then, and realised that was one of the things I’d miss the most.
‘Hey,’ she called my attention. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Rowan and I broke up.’ I blurted the announcement out at such a speed that she didn’t have time to hide her shock at it. ‘I’m fine,’ I hurried to add. ‘Like, genuinely fine. We’ve talked. Well, to start with we argued a bit but then we talked. I don’t really think he wanted to … I mean, when did he ever really want to, which I suppose was half the trouble and …’ I shook my head. ‘You don’t need chapter and verse about it.’
She pushed a wine glass towards me and came around to my side of the counter. ‘If it’ll help—’ she pulled me into a hug and spoke into my neck ‘—then I want to hear it.’
The heat of her breath sent something through me, and I had to remind myself why I was there.
I sipped my drink. ‘I told him that I didn’t think we were a good fit anymore, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t still be friends, that we wouldn’t be in each other’s lives.’ I felt a laugh bubble up. ‘Christ, I’m like a break-up cliché made up of Molly’s exes.’
Fred laughed, too. ‘I imagine you were probably more sincere than Molly’s exes with it all, if I know you. Come on.’ She nodded towards the sofa. ‘Sit. You can walk me through it.’
‘Fred, I don’t know that—’
‘So, don’t walk me through it.’ She landed on the couch with a thud. ‘But you’ve been dodging offers of seeing me for two weeks straight and I’d wager that breaking up with Rowan probably isn’t the reason for it.’ She tapped the empty seat next to her. ‘So, walk me through whatever it is that you called round here to walk me through.’
‘Jesus, you’re—’
‘Abrasive?’ She shrugged. ‘I’ve been told.’
When I dropped onto the sofa, I couldn’t help but still make eyes at the portrait on the wall opposite. It was every bit Fred, from the waist to the hips to the – I sighed again – everything. Even though I could feel her eyes on me, I decided I’d talk to the portrait instead. Explain to the portrait how amazing she was, and beautiful and kind-hearted and generous, especially in bed, even though that shouldn’t matter but my time with her had taught me that a connection in bed definitely mattered, even if only a little bit, but yes, it definitely did.
She laughed. ‘Okay, so, where is this going?’ she asked when I came up for air.
‘I think …’ I pulled in a shaky breath. ‘I think we should stop seeing each other, romantically, I mean.’
She sipped, then, and said, ‘Okay.’
‘It isn’t you—’
Fred leaned forward from her side of the sofa and kissed me square on the mouth to catch the platitude. ‘I know.’
‘You know it isn’t you?’
‘Well, I can take a good guess that it isn’t me.’ She smiled and squeezed my knee on her way back to her own side of the sofa. ‘You can finish the line if you want? I just thought I’d save you.’
‘You are genuinely one of the most amazing women I’ve met in my life, and this has been amazing. It is amazing, still, like, nothing has actually happened.’
‘Apart from the breakdown of the most significant romantic relationship in your life.’
I laughed. ‘Yes, apart from that. Because of that, because of that breakdown …’ I rubbed at my forehead. Christ, stop saying breakdown … ‘Fred, I think I just need to be on my own for a while. Rowan, he didn’t do anything wrong, not really.’ I slapped my hand to my forehead. ‘That’s a lie, actually, isn’t it? Because he did do things wrong and he definitely handled things all wrong. But Christ, if that isn’t just Rowan all over, and I see that now. And, do you know what, I could have probably handled some stuff better in my time, too, it’s just – just that, I think, before I get into a new relationship with anyone, I – I’m basically turning into a Hallmark movie as I say this, but I think for a while I need to be in a relationship with me.’
When she leaned forward this time, she kissed my temple. ‘Good for you, Edi.’
My head jerked around. ‘That’s it?’
She hurried to swallow her sip. ‘I mean, we’re in my apartment, I’m hardly going to wreck the place.’ We shared a laugh, then, and she held her glass out towards me. ‘Give me a clink, you gorgeous woman, we’re celebrating a new relationship.’
‘How are you like this?’ I knocked my glass against hers.
‘Years of practice. And a lot of self-help podcasts.’
‘Can I have the names of them?’
‘I’ll start a list.’
I hesitated and waited for her to take another sip before I asked, ‘Can I still come to the gallery opening this week?’
She choked on her mouthful. ‘Why the hell wouldn’t you?’
‘I don’t know, I …’ I spotted her raised eyebrow over the rim of her glass. ‘I didn’t know whether you’d want me there, after …’ I waved at the empty space between us. ‘This.’
‘Edi, shush. I want you there. Your name’s on the list for the opening.’
‘Can I add a name?’
‘Bold, do you want to bring a date?’ She tapped my knee; her tone was playful.
‘Actually, I was hoping to bring five …’