“You’ll watch me?”
“Well, yeah.”
“The Italian Grand Prix.”
“Yes, okay? I like this ridiculous sport now. It’s fun.”
I sound like I’m ten years old. Nevertheless, Arthur’s eyes pop open, and I’m struck by hazel, hazel gold, hazel brown, excitement, wonder. Like I’m the one making his dream come true.
He must sense my impending blush, since he stands, holding out his hand. “Come on.”
I’m already getting up when I ask, “To?”
“There’s a beach bar close by.” His fingers slide down my palm to help me up, straight down the center. “Killerkaraoke.”
We traverse to the non-nude side of the beach, where Sarah appears with a purse full of clothing. This includes dresses for Delaney and me—a great compliment. “I thought you might’ve gotten carried away by the Dutch nudism,” she says after I’ve traded my sand-covered shirt and shorts for the soft orange dress. It’sshort, tight,and the middle of the bodice isn’t even there, leaving me with a bow-tie noodle of fabric attached to a skirt. No bra would work here, and one look in the bathroom mirror has me Jim-from-The-Office-ing Sarah.
“I look stupid.”
“You look hot.”
“I’ve never looked hot inorange.”
“You’re a babe,” she says, and swats my arm in a way that feels lovingly reprimanding. “It’s vintage! From the 1960s. And it has pockets, for the practical woman.”
I look at myself again. A brunette woman looks back at me, her hair tucked behind her ears, a beaming blonde next to her. A friend. I hug my arms around my chest, overwhelmed by a swell of unnamable emotion; sisterhood, or adulthood, or getting what I’ve always wanted and seeing it framed in a sandy public bathroom next to a karaoke bar in the Netherlands.
“Sorry. I’m not used to the dress-up, girl-friend thing,” I admit, skin tingling. “Let me start over. I love the dress.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Sarah lets out a relieved laugh. “Good. And about the friend thing, I can’t say I love how we met, but I love having met you.” She starts to repack her bag, then stops. “Have you thought about not leaving us?”
Us.I love that word tonight. “You know I have to. I’ve got a film to finish.”
With a stiff nod, she says, “Nobody ever would’ve… let me do something like what we’re doing, with Arthur’s contract, before you came here. And I never would’ve been brave enough to help him on my own.”
“It definitely wasn’t bravery.” I laugh. “And I think you would’ve.”
“Thanks.” She drags in a breath, then rolls off one of her friendship bracelets, handing it to me. Incredibly, the pony beads spell outI CAN DO IT WITH A BROKEN HEART.“For looking out for me.”
I put it on, smiling, and we go back outside. The sky is dark, and there are lights strung across the beach, leading toward the ramshackle bar. Music spills out the open door, weaving together the open-air patio and the people and the packed dance floor and—I blink, then cover my mouth.
Arthur’s at the front of the bar, because of course he is, and he’s got a microphone in one big hand and a glass bottle of Coke in the other. Sarah also brought the guys jeans, and I have to wonder why I got a Velma dress and Arthur got denim, until he spots me and grins, mouthing something.
What?I mouth back.
My color, I think he says.
My face turns as bright as the dress.
Then he holds up his bottle like he’s toasting me, the glass sparkling when it catches the light. “All right, ladies and gentlemen, sorry for the wait. Without any further ado, please enjoy the best rendition of ‘The Whole of the Moon’ you’ve ever heard.”
I yell. Everyone yells. You can’t announce that song in the Netherlands and expect any less. And as I watch Arthur, laughing and singing and holding his phone up to recordme, Cameron appearing during the pivotal bridge to turn it into a duet, Delaney pretending to play a trumpet, Sarah banging her hands on the table, it hits me that I did get one more chance at falling in love with something before I was almost gone.
And I did it right this time around.
