“I’m so relieved you understand.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “I’ve been dreading telling you. You’ve become my best friend since I’ve lived down here. I can’t imagine how I would have survived if it wasn’t for you.”
“I think it’s more the other way around. I might have turned around and left the state that first day if you hadn’t rallied to my aid.” I shook my head. “No matter what, Jen, we’ll always have composting toilets. No one can take that away from us.”
She giggled. “Do you remember that day? You were just crushed when I got out there, and I thought you were nuts for wanting to stay. When I stepped into the trailer for the first time, I nearly died. The smell, the heat . . .”
I laughed through the sheen of tears in my eyes. “But you hid it so well. You were all positive and supportive. You made it possible for me to be brave enough to stay. I won’t ever forget that.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re not there anymore. Your cabin is beautiful, and I can already see the vision you have for that property coming true. I’m so proud of everything you’ve done, Emma. I’m proud to be your friend.”
Now the tears trailed down my cheeks for real. “Stop. You’re making me cry, and you know I hate that. Besides, you’re moving to DC, not to Timbuktu. We’ll still see each other. We’ll keep in touch. This doesn’t mean we’re going to lose our friendship.”
Jenny blinked. “Promise? We won’t be like those people who say they’re going to keep being friends and then in a year, they don’t even know each other’s favorite flavors of ice cream anymore? Or theysaythey’re going to meet up every Thursday night to watch that medical drama that they can’t miss, but it only lasts, like, a month, and then they start making plans at that same time with the real people in their lives–”
“Jenny.” I braced my hands on her shoulder. “We’re not going to be those women, ‘kay? You and I have a bond that cannot be broken by distance or time or men. I promise that if my favorite flavor of ice cream changes from chocolate almond crunch, you will be the first to know. I will text you the minute that it happens. And we will never miss watching that show together.”
“What if I get pregnant, and I go into labor on a Thursday night?”
I lifted one shoulder. “First labors last forever, and you’ll need something to take your mind off the boredom of contractions that only come every twenty minutes. We’ll watch it anyway. Besides, if you’re pregnant, I’m going to be up there with you, because there is no way I’m missing my niece or nephew being born.”
Jenny’s chest rose and fell on a sob. “For real? You would?”
“Of course, doofus. You’re like the sister I never knew I wanted. You’re not shaking me loose.”
She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tight. “And then when we’re old and our men have all kicked the bucket, we’ll get a tiny house and live in it together, and we’ll sit on our porch and yell at the people walking by?”
I cocked my head. “That’s an oddly specific scenario, but okay. Sure.”
Jenny drew back and swiped at her cheeks. “Listen, I was going to ask you this anyway, but now seems like a good time. Would you be my maid of honor?”
I smiled, sincerely touched by this request. “Of course. I’d love to do that. I’ve never been anyone’s bridesmaid before. This will be awesome.”
“Great.” She grinned. “I didn’t want to say this out in front of everyone, but we’ve already begun making plans. We’re going to get married in Virginia next spring. I want to promise my life to Nico under the dogwoods in bloom. So you’ll have to come up for that.” Her smile stretched across her face. “You might bring a date. It would be very romantic.”
“I don’t know about that. We’ll see.” Jenny was up-to-date on my rollercoaster of uncertainty over Noah. “Hey, maybe Kyle will let me be his date. It would be the ultimate in revenge for him to take your best friend to your wedding.”
“I don’t think Kyle’s right for you, sweetie. Believe me, if I did, I’d be happy to have you date him.” She paused. “I have a feeling there’s someone closer to home. Someone who might be the one you’ve been meant to be with all along?”
I rolled my eyes. “You were the one who kept pushing me to make things official with Noah, remember? And now you’re pushing . . . who?”
“You know who. And I never pushed Noah. I only pointed out the possibilities and the fact that Noah was dead gone on you. I was right. Also, you were going on and on about how you just needed your land and your vegetables. I didn’t want you to end up some wacky old woman out there on your property, stomping around and muttering at people who aren’t there.”
“Uh-huh. And instead, I’m going to end up on the porch with you, muttering at people whoarethere?”
Jenny nodded. “Totally different situation.” She stepped away from me and began pulling the plastic wrap from the top of the taco dip. “I’ve been watching you and Noah since you guys decided to be more than friends. You’re sweet together. I can see you being sweet together for the rest of your lives. But there’s no heat there.” She twisted her mouth. “I guess maybe he feels some heat. Or he thinks he does. But if you stay with him, eventually you won’t have anything more than sweet. If you can live with that, fine. I don’t think you can, though. And I don’t think you should, either.”
I reached out a finger to swipe at the layer of beans from the taco dip plate. “I agree with you.”
“You do?” Jenny stopped moving. “You agree with me?”
“Yup.” I sucked my finger. “I’m going to see Noah and tell him. But I want to do it in person.”
“When are you going to do it?” She popped her hands on her hips.
“Soon. He’s still in training camp, but he has a break before the first game of the preseason, and I’m going to go over and see him then. We’ve been texting. We’ve made plans to get together then.”
“Do you think he knows why?”
I shrugged. “He’s probably got a clue. I mean, I’ve been back here for over a week, and we haven’t seen each other. When I left, things weren’t great between us. Everything was awkward and uncomfortable and just—not right. He’s got to suspect what I’m going to say.”
