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“Me? From who?” Riley set the monster bouquet on the table and pulled out a thank you note-sized envelope that was nestled in the blooms. “Someone has a lot to say…” She opened the letter and started reading the unfamiliar handwriting.
Riley, my apologies for not sending my wishes sooner. The flowers are for your mom, but please keep reading—this note is for you.
“Who sent them?” Ben looked over her shoulder.
Erika’s been busy settling in Winnipeg, so I only heard about your mom’s transplant yesterday. Please accept these flowers along with my sincerest hopes for a swift and complete recovery. I know how close you two are and can only imagine how stressful and scary it must’ve been the last few weeks.
Riley turned the notepaper over. Ben squinted at the bottom of the page. “Seriously?”
I’m taking time away to figure things out. I’ve started divorce proceedings against Tyler. Maybe when I’m back in NYC, you and I could go for lunch (my treat). I’ve always admired your strength, Riley, and I’m so sorry we got off on the wrong foot. You were RIGHT about Ty, of course. I should’ve had more self-respect than to let him treat me so badly. I doubled (tripled!) down, going cold on anyone who called him out for what he was, because I was still clinging to the hope that I’d be the one who changed him. It’s a rotten excuse, and so unforgivable on many levels, but I hope it’s not too late for us to be friends.
“That’s big of her.” Ben scratched his chin.
Anyway, before I moved out, I cleared out our joint accounts. I’ve donated today (properly) to your mom’s crowdfunding page. If I’m going to make Tyler pay for all the pain he’s caused, what better way than to share the money with someone who would benefit most. I hope it helps make life a little easier for her. Moms are precious, and you know that better than anyone.
Take care, Riley.
Much love, Leia xo
“Wow!” Riley lowered the paper, dumbfounded. “I know we made our peace at the wedding, but I never expected this.”
“Bloody hell. How much did she give?” Ben whipped out his phone, opening up the bookmarked site. “Blimey O’Riley!” He showed her the screen, holding his stomach as he laughed in disbelief. “She donated ten thousand dollars! She’s pushed the total past forty-two thousand! You’ve more than doubled your goal.”
• • •
Riley, Ben, Maggie, Casey, and Piper filled several oversized armchairs in Beans & Leaves, a Staten Island café famous for its Belgian waffles. They toasted Casey on beginning his master’s, laughed at Ben’s retelling of his numerous hospital gown malfunctions, and congratulated Riley on her job news from the day before—after three rounds of interviews, she had accepted the assistant job supporting the VP of TV sales and co-productions in the BBC’s New York office. Despite feeling fatigued, Maggie grinned the entire time. Nothing was going to mute her joy. She had her daughter and her health was returning—life had never tasted as good.
Taking a break from the oversized waffle she was sharing with Ben, piled high with Reese’s Pieces, gooey fudge drizzle, and marshmallow fluff, Riley raised her fork to get everyone’s attention. “I want to say a few words about my girl, Pip.”
“Don’t you dare make me cry,” said Piper, taking a bite of her Cap’n Crunch waffle.
“I’ll never forget how we met. Four years ago, first day at Tisch—”
“Waiting in line in the NYU bookstore,” Piper interrupted, elbowing her best friend.
“Ahh, not quite! You were leaving the bookstore, yapping on your phone. Your face! It was bright red—”
“I was mid-argument,” explained Piper.
“You were stomping around in four-inch wedges and tripped over your own feet!” Riley laughed. “It was epic! NYU magnets, Swedish fish, and a bottle opener all went flying.”
“I remember that opener!” Casey, sitting across the table, wiped his mouth with a napkin. “That’s how Pip and I met in the dorms. I had the wine and a massive hangover, she had the opener—and a cast on her foot.”
“And I thought I was clumsy.” Ben laughed.
“It wasn’t funny, Ben.” Piper leaned across Riley to playfully slap his arm. “It really hurt! I thought I had broken my ribs and wrist, too.”
Maggie winced.
“Pip was crying. She never cries,” said Riley. “She had scraped her hands up pretty good, too, and her phone got flattened by an open-top tour bus.”
Piper bumped Riley with her shoulder. “This one ended up late for class because she waited with me for the ambulance. I spotted the Benedict Cumberbatch Sherlock pin on her backpack and that was it—friends for life.”
“I love how you met,” Maggie smiled.
“Fandoms rock!” Riley nodded.
“I only survived my first weeks at NYU with my cast and crutches because of Riley,” said Piper. “She carried my books and got me from class to class. Rain or shine, she was there for me, and when my cast came off, she still was—every day, for four years.”
