Page 43 of Keepsakes and Kismet

“Cal?”

I turn around and find a familiar, short woman standing in front of me. My ex-girlfriend, in fact, who’s still sporting the same light brown bob and blunt bangs after all these years.

My stomach turns. “Sarah?”

“What are you doing here?” Her tan skin flushes coral. “I mean—wow! I’m so happy to see you out and about! Thank you for coming!”

The neon “Stan’s Brewery” sign blinks at me in the background, and all of the pieces fall into place. It’s been years since I’ve seen Sarah Stanley. It never even occurred to me that the “Stan” in “Stan’s Brewery” would be short for her last name.

But here we are.

I take a quick breath and try to hide my discomfort. “It’s great to see you.”

She shifts on her feet awkwardly. “You, too. Gosh, the last time I saw you, you were…”

Going on two weeks since I last shaved? Having no clue how I’d get through the hardest week of the year? A hair’s breadth away from dropping out and moving back home?

Her lips pull to one side in a nervous pucker. “Well, we don’t have to talk about that. You look really good!”

The phrase you look really good only registers as a compliment from people that stick around. When Sarah says it, after not seeing me for years, it sounds more like I thought you’d look worse.

I don’t owe her any details about my life now, so I shrug. “Thanks.”

“Aunt Stanny gave me three cookies!” A young girl—maybe five years old—tugs on the hem of Sarah’s dress. It doesn’t take much past the matching brown bangs to see that she’s her daughter.

Sarah sighs. “Lovely. Is Aunt Stanny going to stay up with you until midnight, then?”

“Let me ask her!” The girl runs away and latches onto her aunt’s leg next to the bar.

“Sorry about her,” she says. “Anyway, how’re things?”

Sarah asks me the question casually, like she didn’t break up with me the last time we talked. Like she didn’t drive an hour to my dorm only to end things during the most unbearable week of each year for me. Like she didn’t say, “It’s been four years, Cal,” and, “This isn’t what I signed up for,” and, “I don’t think I can be what you need me to be,” over microwavable ramen noodles and Diet Coke.

If I’m honest, she didn’t break my heart, because it was already broken. All she did was confirm my lurking fear that I’d become impossible to love. And that type of heartbreak is more of a mindfuck.

I didn’t fault her for it, though, and I still don’t. I wasn’t the same person she knew. I wouldn’t have wanted to be stuck with me either.

“Things are good,” I say non-commitally. I’m not interested in extending our conversation, and I’m even less interested in making things weird in front of Peyton.

Peyton. Where is⁠—

“Hi! I’m Peyton!” She steps to my side and smiles at me, handing me an apple cider.

It’s impossible not to smile back as I take it from her hand, careful not to touch her in the process.

Sarah’s eyes dart between Peyton and me, and her jaw drops slightly. After practically growing up with Sarah, I can’t imagine her looking more surprised. The sight of me smiling next to a woman must be really jarring. I’d be offended if I wasn’t feeling so damn good standing next to Peyton.

If Peyton can tell things are uncomfortable, she doesn’t let on. “It’s so nice to meet you! Have you tried the cider yet? It’s delicious.”

I stifle a laugh. Peyton’s in work mode and has zero idea that Sarah’s related to the owner. Sarah’s probably tried a thousand versions of this cider, but Peyton’s energy is so contagious, she might actually convince her to get another glass.

Sarah exhales a small laugh. “Um, yeah. Hi, I’m Sarah. My sister, Annie—Stanny—is the owner.”

Not that she has any reason to be, but Peyton doesn’t look embarrassed. I’m not even sure she’s capable of being embarrassed.

“Oh!” She takes a sip of her cider. “My mistake. Well, I’m jealous that you get free access to this elixir of the gods then. The cider is truly life-changing.”

Peyton’s exaggeration makes me chuckle, especially given the “life-changing” smoothie she had just a few weeks ago. As if she knows exactly what I’m thinking, she turns to me and her lips curve into a grin.