“Yeah. I’ll be working two weeks on and two off, instead of three on and one off,” Amie explains. “And I’ll have days off between flights in those two weeks, too. Cam is doing the same, and we’ll overlap by a week. So in theory, we each get a week alone with Maisy, a week with the three of us together, and we’ll only need to figure out childcare for her for one week each month. And I’ll probably be home for some of that, between flights, anyway.”
“Oh, that’s amazing, A,” I say, bumping her with my shoulder. Not that I’ve ever minded helping out with Maisy. I adore that little girl, and I’ll take care of her any time. But I know how much it breaks Amie’s heart to leave her.
“Yeah, it’ll be nice. We’ll get our time alone with her, as well as together… an easier transition, you know?”
“And you’re okay with that?” Paloma says with a teasing smile, her tongue between her teeth. “Baby girl’s all grown up!”
Amie rolls her eyes as Paloma continues.
“Remember when you wouldn’t even leave Maisy with Suze, even for ten minutes, at first? God forbid you’d leave her with one of us for half an hour.”
“Excuse me, have you met you?” Amie whirls around to face Paloma, walking backwards with a grin on her face.
“I happen to think I’m quite brill, actually,” Paloma rebuts, flipping her red hair over her shoulder. “Besides. Maisy loves me.”
“She loves all of you. And Cam. The only one she’s a little madam for is me, apparently.”
“Didn’t Suze say that’s normal, though?” I ask. I hear more concern in my voice than I want to. The idea of something being wrong—anything not being perfect for the friends who are more like my family—gives me stomach ache.
“Yeah, she did. It is, I guess. And you know, her having that alone time with Cam… he’s her dad. This will be good for them. Both of them.”
We stop walking when we reach our usual meeting point. There’s only one person missing, and that’s—
“Katy!” Paloma squeals suddenly, and a blonde blur appears momentarily before becoming engulfed in Paloma’s emerald green cape-like dress. Once Katy escapes, she steps over to wrap me in a hug. She gives the best hugs, and I find myself hanging on for as long as I can, until Amie starts slapping at my arm impatiently.
The four of us haven’t spent more than an hour or two together for a while. I’ve been working and travelling, Amie has been flying. Katy has been working extra shifts at the supermarket, and Paloma has been busier than ever. This shopping trip has been in the diary for a few weeks now, and I know for a fact we’ve all been counting down to it, desperate for some much-needed girl time.
“How are you, love? How’s Maisy?” Katy asks.
“I love my daughter, but holy fuck, I am so glad to be away from her today,” Amie complains with a dry laugh. “She has been testing my patience for the last two days, and I’m about to put her in the bin.”
“Good job she’s cute.” The four of us fall into step together, Paloma’s arms around Amie’s and Katy’s shoulders and mine around Katy’s waist.
The conversation continues for a moment, and I zone out, looking around at the fluorescent lights in the mall, until Katy steers us left and says, “Come on, I need new notebooks and pens.”
“Like a fucking hole in the head,” I mutter, just loud enough for everyone to hear, and Paloma barks out a laugh.
“It’s forcollege,” Katy insists haughtily. She surprised all of us recently with the news that she’d got into the London College of Psychology with a late application, and would be studying on a short counselling course. I’m surprised it’s something she hasn’t done before, to be honest. She has a degree that she’s never really used, and she’s always been a people person. She has the biggest, most loving heart of anyone I know.
“I still can’t believe you’re doing it,” I say. “I’m proud of you, Sweet Thing.”
“Thanks, Roo.” She reaches for my hand and squeezes it. There’s a nagging feeling in my belly that says there’s something Katy isn’t saying, but I know Katy Keller. Whatever it is, she’ll say it when she’s ready.
We walk through the open door of a stationery shop and immediately make a beeline for a display of pink pens and accessories.
“Look, K, this one is so cute!” Paloma squeals, waving a notebook in the air. It has a pink cover illustrated with all the stereotypical cowboy things: hats, horseshoes, cacti, ropes tied in lassos… it’s cute, and it’s veryKaty, and it only serves to make me think of Everett. I wander down to the other end of the shelves. Katy smiles, plucking a pen from a display pot and waving it back at Paloma.
“It’s perfect!” Amie calls out from the other side of the display. “There’s a pencil case, too!”
Armed with a stack of sticky notes, highlighters, and cowboy hat paperclips—all pink, of course—I stroll back to my friends, who are still waving cowboy-themed items at each other.
“Anyone would think you had a cowboy fetish,” I say with a giggle as I deposit my armful of goodies into the basket hung over Katy’s wrist.
“Maybe I do,” she says with a salacious wink. “Give me a cowboy with an ass like a peach…”
“You know what they say,” Paloma says with a shrug and a saucy wink.
“What?” Amie asks, blinking innocently. “Something about riding horses?”
