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"You're fourteen fucking days late, bitch. God, you really know how to give someone a complex," she says, then throws her arms around me to give me a giant hug. I gasp, and we both start crying happy tears as I step inside. "I almost had to hunt your dumb ass down," she adds. She looks like she's on cloud nine and it makes me feel so good.
"I'm sorry! I didn't know if, or when, you'd want to see me, but I couldn't hold off any longer. I miss you, and I'm sorry, and I want our friendship back," I say without taking a breath. "And I swear on my life I'll never talk to James or see him again. I just really need you in my life, Nat. I need my bestie."
Her navy eyes soften and a few tears slip out. "I was never going anywhere. I just needed some time. You just gave me too much time." We both giggle. "We're more than just friends, Aub. We're like soul sisters, wet sisters, our own little gang, each other's tribe, my squad. Whatever you want to call it. How can we be epically fucking amazing when one half is missing? Answer. We can't. You're stuck with me for life, Ram Jam. I just needed a little time."
I always knew Natalie was a real, honest to God friend, but it was then that I realized what kind of person she is deep down inside. She's a better person than I am. I don't deserve her, but I'm lucky to have her in my life. A real friend accepts all the imperfections and lifts you up when no one notices that you fell. One who's always there with a shoulder to lean on, who can forgive even the biggest mistakes that hurt more than just one person.
I may have lost my grammy, but I’ve gained an angel for a best friend.
Epilogue
"Cheers to the hardest working broad in the city I know," Natalie says.
I smile from ear to ear. Our champagne glasses clink together, and we sip our mimosas. We're sitting at a little café overlooking the Hudson River having brunch.
"I can't believe it's finally open. I'm so excited for you."
I grin even bigger, feeling a bit bashful. "Right? I can't either."
This morning I cut the ribbon on Sanctuary, my nonprofit organization, with my best friend by my side.
"How do you feel about it?" she asks.
"Honestly? It's surreal. I really thought with each roadblock it wouldn’t happen. I started to lose hope at one point."
Natalie's lips turn down, and she nods. She knows. She was right there the whole time watching how upset I was over the amount of broken bridges I had to cross. A year and a half it took from start to finish, but now it's up and running, and in two days the doors will open to homeless women and children all over New York City.
"I couldn't do it without your help," I say. "Thanks, Nat."
"I wouldn't have it any other way. I know how much it means to you, and I know Grammy would be proud."
"I hope so."
I smile and glance at the murky river. After the day I showed up at the apartment, we had another long talk through tears and cheap wine that made us sick the next day. There were too many memories to throw away and a bond that we knew couldn't be found with anyone else.
It was a little rocky at first. We both were testing the waters, being careful with each other, but eventually we fell back into our natural, sarcastic ways. We argued here and there, but within six months it was put behind us and we've been good ever since.
I never went back to Sanctuary Cove, but Natalie is still there. She tells me all the time she's going to give it up, but that lasts only until she gets another insane payment. Then she tells me next time. I laugh and tell her she's going to have a roast beef looking vagina by the time she really does leave.
Every few months she asks me if I'll ever go back. My answer is always no, quick loads of money be damned. Like Natalie told me in the beginning of our senior year of college—more money, more problems. She wasn't kidding. The grass really isn't greener on the other side.
The only positive that came from working in the sex trade was that I used a good chunk of the cash to open the foundation, which wasn't easy to prove at first. It was that five-million-dollar check I got from James that secured the deal in the end since he’d proved it was a gift. I didn't speak to him about it, though. Natalie did that for me. She claims he was happy to help.
I never ask about him. Ever. And Natalie never mentions him. It's one of those things that's always there but is never spoken about. I think about James often and I still miss him something fierce, but my friendship with Natalie is more important to me. I won't go down that road again. I'm not sure I could handle the heartbreak again.
"Want to order Chinese tonight and get drunk at my place?"
I tip my glass toward her. "Sounds like a rad plan. Is my bed made up with clean sheets?"
She laughs. "I just ironed them for you."
I never moved back into the apartment, but Natalie insists on keeping my room the way I left it. I joke that she's like a mom waiting for her child to come home from college. She's been amazing to me and beyond forgiving, so every couple of weeks I oblige and make her happy by sleeping over. That's only after I make sure Grammy's cats are taken care of.
Yeah, I still live there. The landlord had no intention of selling, but I offered him an over market price and he accepted. On days when I'm lonely and down, I feel like she's there with me and I need that.
"Let's play a game," Natalie says, taking me away from my thoughts.
My eyes light up. I already know where she's going with this. She orders us another round before we start. It's Bottomless Mimosa Saturday, which means anything is possible.
