Scarlett was acting weird. She’d been acting weird since the previous night, when Megan had found her sitting in front of the windows after sex looking forlornly into the snow. They’d had a leisurely morning together waiting for the storm to stop, but Scarlett had been more withdrawn than ever. Megan had thought it was about being stuck in the cabin and worried about the wedding, but it was probably something more. If she hadn’t known better, she’d assume Scarlett was upset about not sleeping together anymore. But Megan had been upfront the whole time about this just being fun and not having to mean anything else. It wasn’t Megan’s fault if Scarlett...what? Misinterpreted? Wanted something more? No matter what it was, a weird undercurrent of guilt settled on Megan’s shoulders. She hadn’t promised Scarlett anything, though. She shouldn’t feel guilty.
Scarlett’s funk persisted, even after they’d had lunch, even after the snow stopped and they got the car dug out. Now, with the two of them back on the road at dusk and a timeline of a late evening arrival in Quebec, Megan had hoped Scarlett would snap out of whatever blues she seemed to be wallowing in. Instead, she stared out the window and didn’t even sing along to the songs on one of Megan’s CDs.
“You got your passport?” Megan asked at last, interrupting a long stretch of painful silence.
“What?” Scarlett jolted out of what must have been a daydream.
“Your passport. We’re near the border.” Megan gestured to a sign indicating that they were going to be crossing into Canada very soon.
“Oh. Right.” Scarlett dug her bag out of the backseat and began rifling through it. “It’s right here.”
“Good. Hate to get stranded at the border.” Megan forced a smile. “Unless it would shake you out of whatever’s gotten into you today.”
Scarlett thumbed through her passport. “It’s weird to be almost there.”
“I know.” Megan was feeling a mixture of excitement and sadness. Whatever world they’d created together, it was coming to an end soon.
Not that soon, though. “But,” Megan added, “we do have the whole drive home.”
“That’s true.” Scarlett smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes, but it was at least a smile. “And we’re going to the wedding. I do love weddings.”
“See, that’s the spirit. Cheer up.” Megan reached across the console and gave her a playful shove.
“I could always tell border patrol that you’ve kidnapped me.”
Megan’s smile vanished. “Don’t you dare.”
That, at least, made Scarlett laugh. “Don’t worry. Somebody’s gotta drive me the rest of the way to Quebec.”
Their border crossing was uneventful, and as soon as they passed into Canada, Scarlett made them stop immediately on the other side. “You need a picture with the sign!” she announced, and Megan dutifully posed in front of the “Welcome to Canada” sign for Scarlett to fumble with the instant camera and get the shot for her scrapbook. They set the picture on the dashboard to finish developing and drove on.
Megan did the entire last stretch of the drive, since she probably owed it to Scarlett after Scarlett’s terrible snowstorm drive. When Old Quebec came into view, lit against the dark sky, Megan’s throat closed up with emotion. They were here. After all this driving, they were here.
The Château Frontenac was the most obvious landmark, but they still needed the GPS to guide them through a maze of narrow one-way streets and steep, winding hills to the parking garage. Then, it was a flurry of gathering their stuff, shoving loose snacks into bags, unloading, and then apologizing in broken French at the front desk while the immensely patient clerk found their room reservation information. Finally, at just past nine thirty, they unlocked the door to their hotel room.
“Wow.” Scarlett tossed her stuff onto the bed and immediately went to the windows, which gave a breathtaking view of the St. Lawrence River. Megan joined her. The riverbanks heaved with icy mountains on both sides. In the center, a tiny ribbon of moving water cut through the vast swaths of ice to wend its way downstream.
“It’s beautiful.” Megan’s voice sounded too loud in the stillness, even though she was whispering. The city was illuminated beneath them, spread out like a tapestry of tiny lights. A cathedral came to mind. This view felt holy.
And somehow, having Scarlett by her side felt like the most perfect way to witness it. Scarlett didn’t crack a joke about her sentimentality, or say it was only a city. Scarlett’s gaze was soft, her lips turned up in a tiny smile of wonder.
“I can’t believe we’re really here.” Scarlett turned to her, and for a moment, her gaze flicked to Megan’s lips at the same time Megan wanted to kiss her. Instead, Megan took a step back on shaky legs, and Scarlett turned away. “Maybe it’s all the time in the car,” Scarlett said, “but this is all making me really emotional.” She laughed, and that laugh came out as unsteady as Megan felt.
“Yeah.” Megan was relieved that her voice didn’t tremble. “Me, too.”
Scarlett started to unpack her bag onto the bed. “Remember to burn your candle.”
Megan had nearly forgotten. “Thanks.”
“What happens if you forget a day?”
Megan hadn’t asked. It wasn’t like her to forget anything she set her mind to. This was just another example of how distracted she’d been. “Maybe it doesn’t work.”
As Megan lit the candle, Scarlett’s gaze followed her motions. She hadn’t yet asked Megan what it was for, although Megan kept waiting for the question. It didn’t come.
“I should probably put it somewhere where it won’t set off any alarms, right?” Megan didn’t want to burn down the hotel, or trigger a sprinkler system.
“You should be fine, as long as you don’t leave it burning.” Scarlett turned away and continued unpacking. Megan did the same, and when the candle’s top layer had fully melted into a pool of wax, she blew it out for the night. She didn’t feel any closer to direction or clarity since she first burned the candle a few nights ago. In fact, she felt more confused; her feelings toward Scarlett were a jumble, and she didn’t like jumbles. She liked order.
Megan had only spent two nights sharing a bed with Scarlett, but her bed already felt empty as she slid beneath the sheets that night. Would it be wrong to ask if Scarlett wanted to share again? She put the thought aside before she’d even fully formed it. They’d agreed to stop fooling around together. Sharing a bed would probably lead to more, if the last few nights was any indication. Space was good.
Too bad what she really wanted was closeness.
Scarlett had not anticipated what a fancy wedding this would be. Everything was a whirlwind of top-tier extravagance, from the gorgeous flowers filling the room of the wedding itself to Juliet’s spectacular gown. A few times throughout the evening, Megan audibly gasped near her—at the sight of Juliet coming down the aisle, later at the lavish decor of the reception hall, at the giant ice sculpture of a pair of doves. Privately, Scarlett thought it was a little over-the-top, but Megan seemed to be really into all of it.
“It’s really something, huh?” Scarlett asked as they searched for their seats at the reception.
“It’s unbelievable, that’s what it is.” Megan laughed. “I mean, it’s gorgeous, don’t get me wrong. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever see. But it must have cost a fortune.”
Scarlett automatically pulled out Megan’s chair for her, not realizing what she’d done until Megan already sat down. Oops. That was definitely a relationship thing, not a friend thing. She’d have to be more careful.
“If I ever get married,” Scarlett said, taking her own seat, “I want something small. Maybe a backyard party, or an event at a park. No big extravaganza.”
Megan sighed, resting her chin on her hand and looking wistfully at the room. “I used to think I wanted a big event like this, but now I don’t know. Maybe if I married somebody rich like Juliet did with Gabriel. But I can’t see that in the cards.”
“Do you think you’ll ever get married?”
Megan smiled, but it was a sad smile. “I don’t know.” Her gaze drifted toward the windows that overlooked the setting sun.
God, Megan was beautiful. Her lilac dress hugged all of her curves and flowed gracefully to the floor like a lace waterfall, and she’d put her hair up in an elegant twist that Scarlett had helped pin into place this afternoon. She looked like a movie star, like Audrey Hepburn or some other classic film actress. Scarlett had thought Megan was cute, but she really was more than cute. She was beautiful. How could someone be so beautiful, and so smart, and still be single? Scarlett didn’t want Megan to be alone. She wanted to confess her love, to apologize anew for all the ways in which she’d been hurtful, to kiss those petal-soft lips and ask Megan to stay with her forever.
She was rescued from these dangerous thoughts by more people joining them at the table, finding their seats and introducing themselves. Fortunately, Juliet had seated them with people who spoke English, albeit with some gorgeous French accents. Apparently, they were some of Juliet and Gabriel’s college friends, several singles and a couple, folks who knew each other but went out of their way to make Megan and Scarlett feel part of the conversation rather than just talking about their college days. They were all beautiful people, all in their mid-to-late twenties, and in another situation, Scarlett could see herself hitting on one of several of the single guys or definitely the woman, Victoria. Tonight, though, all she could think about was Megan.
Megan excused herself to go get a drink from the open bar, leaving Scarlett alone with the rest of the table. “So, how long have you two been together?” asked Henri, one of the single guys.
Scarlett stared at him blankly for a moment before realizing his meaning. “What, me and Megan?” She looked back over her shoulder out of reflex, catching sight of where Megan was talking to the bartender. “We’re—” She paused, wanting badly to lie, to make up some story about their beautiful and non-existent romance. “We’re just friends,” she finally said, the words feeling strangled in her throat. “We’ve been friends most of our lives.”
Henri’s eyebrows went up, then drew together in a look of puzzlement. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood.”
“That’s all right.” Scarlett tried to laugh. It sounded forced. “So. Uh. Tell me about what you do for work.”
Megan came back midway through Victoria’s story about something hilarious that had happened at work the previous week, and she slid a glass in front of Scarlett.
“What’s this?” Scarlett asked quietly, not wanting to interrupt the story.
“I figured you’d want something, so I got you their specialty drink. It’s a little bit sweet, a little bit sour, the kind of thing you like.” Megan looked hesitant. “Is that okay?”
Scarlett smiled. “Thanks.” Megan got her a drink, and she’d given thought to what Scarlett would like. The way any friend would, a little voice reminded her.
As the meals arrived, the rest of the table drifted into conversation about something related to college, giving Megan and Scarlett some time to talk quietly together. “You know,” Scarlett said, because she couldn’t not say it, “they thought we were together.”
“Really?” Megan raised her eyebrows and glanced at the rest of the table. “I guess that’s not so strange. We came together. And we do match.”
Scarlett looked down at her gray velvet suit. She hadn’t been thinking of Megan’s dress when she bought the purple camisole to go under it, but it pretty obviously looked like they dressed to match. “I didn’t even notice that.”
“I thought you did it on purpose.” Megan flushed and took a sip of her drink.
Scarlett’s stomach clenched in longing. She was going to say something, she was going to say how beautiful Megan was and how she wanted everything to be real between them, but she was saved by the arrival of Juliet and Gabriel.
“Look at you both!” Juliet swept Scarlett and Megan into one crushing hug, and all their years of friendship came rushing back in an instant. They’d been inseparable, the three of them, making this friendship work during the years when most friendships fell apart. And then Juliet had moved away, and Megan and Scarlett had stayed close...until they weren’t.
They’d wasted so many years.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t get to see you before the wedding today,” Juliet said, stepping back and looking between Scarlett and Megan. “I thought I’d have more time. It’s been a blur.”
“It’s all right,” Megan said. “We thought we’d be in days ago.”
“That snowstorm, right?” Juliet shook her head, little curled tendrils bouncing around her face. “It passed just south of us. Lots of guests couldn’t fly in until the last minute. I am so glad you’re here.”
She introduced Gabriel, who seemed nice enough, and he looked at Juliet like she was the most incredible woman in the world and he was lucky to be married to her. That was how all spouses should look at each other. They caught up briefly, the abbreviated conversations of any newly-married couple trying to visit everyone at the reception, and then she and Megan said goodbye with promises to talk more as they made their way to the rest of the table.
“They look wonderful.” Megan smiled at Juliet and Gabe’s retreating forms once they moved onto another group. “It’s good to see her happy. I’m glad we came.”
Scarlett went back to eating. “It’s kind of weird, though right? We do this whole drive, just for today. For this brief time, to support them, and then they’re off and we don’t see them again.”
“I know. The wedding is the culmination of this trip, but it’s kind of anticlimactic.” Megan gave Scarlett a long, searching look, and then went back to her meal.
By the time they finished dessert, and after two more trips to the open bar, Scarlett was feeling the alcohol more than a bit. The dance floor was starting to fill up as the music got louder. She leaned into Megan. “You want to dance?”
Megan made a face. “I’m not drunk enough for that.”
“So have another drink.” Scarlett smiled.
Megan rolled her eyes. “Okay, sure, I’ll dance.”
They moved out onto the floor together, joining the throng moving along to the music. Megan was a competent enough dancer, letting loose as the song went on, laughing at the way Scarlett deliberately exaggerated her movements. She wanted to make Megan laugh like that forever.
The next song was slow, some melodramatic ballad in French that definitely sounded like a boy band from when they were in elementary school. Scarlett pulled Megan in close with a dramatic flair, singing in her made-up-French. “Oui...madame...le baguette...bonjour...”
Megan started laughing so hard she started to snort, which made her laugh even harder, but she didn’t pull out of Scarlett’s arms. And then they were dancing, actually dancing, laughter dying away as they moved together to whatever ridiculous, saccharine song this was. This was silly, and at the same time, Scarlett didn’t want it to end. When she turned, they were looking right into each other’s eyes.
The song ended, fading right into something else that was far more peppy and upbeat, and Megan stepped back and swallowed. “I’m gonna go...use the bathroom.” She gestured vaguely at the door.
Scarlett nodded and let her go.
Almost immediately, an older woman sidled up to her, smiling broadly and lazily with the look of someone who had had a few too many glasses of wine. She yelled something in French, but Scarlett had to stammer that she didn’t understand. “You and your girlfriend are adorable!” the woman repeated, this time in heavily accented English.
“Thank you.” Scarlett didn’t bother to correct her, her attention still on Megan as she left.