Hendrix stole another wing. “Come find me when you’re done.”
Bri munched on a chicken wing, while she studied me, her eyes probing. Knowing.
“Uh-oh,” I muttered. “What did she tell you?”
Albany and Bri had been attached at the hip for years. It was assumed that every secret told to Albany would be shared with Bri. To avoid confusion, they would often give a disclaimer before listening to gossip:If you tell Albany, you’re essentially telling Bri. And vice versa. Be good with that before you start talking.
The two hadn’t lived in the same city in years, so I wasn’t sure how true that still was. But I knew that fierce loyalty had never waned. Neither of them would hesitate to throw hands for the other. That included men, women, old, and young.
Eyeing me warily, she said, “Wes, I swear … you hurt my friend, I hurt you.”
I smiled. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. Is that what you want to talk to me about? Are you here to tell me to leave her alone?”
“Actually, I’m here to tell you tonotleave her alone. Don’t give up on her.”
Over the years, I used my proximity to Bri to stay connected to Albany. She talked about her often, shared little things about her life. And I’d hold on to any information no matter how insignificant because everything about her mattered to me. It was painful to think about her, to picture her in love with someone else, but I couldn’t stop wishing for her happiness. Even if it wasn’t with me.
“You’re sure about that?” I asked. “I hurt her.”
“You were so young, Wes. I can’t even imagine dealing with the things you did at that age. I was too busy watchingTwilightand worrying about whether Hendrix liked the way I looked in my jeans. Yes, I was angry with you. And I made you pay for it.”
When I first moved back to Detroit, it took years for Bri to look at me without a scowl on her face. Every time I walked into a room, she smacked the shit out of me. Eventually, though, she’d warmed up to me and I appreciated it because I knew she was doing it for Hendrix. They just didn’t realize it yet.
“But that was a long time ago,” she continued. “You’re both stronger now.” Her shoulders fell. “You love her.”
I sighed. “I never stopped.”
“And I swear I’ll deny this if you ever tell her what I said. You will be all kinds of assholes. But … she loves you, too.”
The words weren’t coming from Albany, but Bri was the next best thing. And I let that fuel my desire to go to her. “Did she tell you that?”
“She didn’t have to.” She smiled. “Listen, I want you both to be happy.”
“What if I can’t make her happy?”
“Wes, teenage love doesn’t always survive adulting. And you know more than anybody that there are no guarantees in life. Today, you could be on cloud nine, ready to rule the world. Tomorrow, you could be drowning in a deep sea of turmoil. Time is not promised to anyone. You and Albany have a chance at something amazing. Don’t assume the stars will align again.”
This was the moment when all the elements combined to create the perfect storm. The potential was there for renewal, for a clean slate. It could also destroy us. Any sane person would’ve run away from the potential chaos, but I always wanted to run to it. The simple truth was there were many women that had come into my life after Albany. Beautiful, intelligent women. But none of them were her. And I would be a fool to let her slip through my fingers.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
She hiccupped, then slapped a hand over her mouth. “Excuse me. Let me go find a hiding space. Grandma Liv has tried to introduce me to three different men.”
“I’ll walk you.”
As we neared the patio door, she told me about the guy Grandma Liv had insisted she meet. “I mean, Wes … I can’t date that man. His pants are too short. Plus, everyone knows Hendrix …” She froze. “Oh no.”
Concerned, I asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I need a hot dog.” She stopped at the buffet table to get more food. “Anyway, he’s cute and everything, but he’s not him.” She shrugged. “Alright, bye.”
My grandmother walked over. “Did you and Amber hit it off?”
“She’s nice.”
“Good. I said that I get to pick a date for you. She’s it.” Before I could object, she said, “I’ll send her information.” She waved at someone, then rushed off to talk to them.
Sighing, I grabbed two glasses of champagne and made my way toward the carriage house. It had been a long time since I’d been there. Sixteen years to be exact. But as I neared the structure, I was struck by the significance of the moment. Waxing poetic wasn’t my thing. Except lately. And only when it pertained to Albany. Yet, I couldn’t help but appreciate the symmetry of the moment.
