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"God, the house." Suzy rubbed her eyes. "I mean, I just wanted a nice little beach house. We hired this really pushy decorating team. And I turn around and I get this . . . this . . ."
"Mega-mansion."
"Castle."
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"Fortress."
"Right." Suzy nodded. She raised an eyebrow. "Do you guys really think I would commission a copy of the Pieta for my front lawn?" The girls laughed. Suzy smiled. "Good night, girls," she called as she headed back upstairs, her red robe billowing out behind her.
"She's really not so bad," Jacqui declared.
"I guess not," Eliza said grudgingly. She had still hoped that her parents would get back together, but as a stepmother, Suzy really wasn't too bad.
"I love you guys," Mara said suddenly. "I'm sorry about how I was acting this summer. I wish I'd gone to some of those parties. They sounded fun."
"Me too," Jacqui added, tears springing to her eyes. "I mean, I love you guys too. And the parties were fun," she added, a playful gleam in her eyes.
"Well, I never think friends need to apologize," Eliza said slyly. "It's just understood."
They hugged each other tightly, not wanting to let go for a long time. With good friends and potato chips, who needed boys?
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JEREMY IS MR. RIGHT, JUST NOT RIGHT NOW
IT WAS ALMOST THREE IN THE MORNING WHEN ELIZA drove up to the Greyson estate after her late-night snack with the girls, but there was a light shining in the kitchen. Apparently someone else couldn't sleep.
She knocked on the door and after a minute Jeremy appeared, wearing old jeans with holes in the knees and a worn-out white Hanes tee. His eyes were rimmed with red, and he looked exhausted. He leaned his head against the door frame so that their faces were only five inches apart but separated by the screen. "What are you doing here?" he asked quietly, as if not wanting to disturb the silence of the night.
"Can I come in?" Eliza asked in a low whisper.
Jeremy stepped wordlessly aside, and she followed him into the living room. There were several couches in the room, still covered in plastic. He'd picked out the Mies van der Rohe collection-- black leather modern couches that she had once admired in a catalog. He took a seat in an Eames lounge chair and she sat on the plastic of the couch across from him, almost sliding off the slippery covering.
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"Why haven't you unpacked?" she asked, unable to think of anything to say but the obvious. "How do you live like this?"
"I'm renting it out," he said. "You're right--it's too big for a bachelor pad." Jer--
"Eliza, I don't want to hear it," he said abruptly. "I don't even know what you're doing here."
Eliza nodded, understanding why he was still upset. She ran her fingers through her hair, and took a deep breath. "It was wrong of me to accept that ring," she said. "I just didn't let the implications sink in at the time. Because I was afraid of what it meant. And I was afraid that if I didn't, I would lose you."
He sat there, stony-faced, for a long time. The crickets sang outside, and moonlight poured in through the window. He sighed. "Part of it is my fault too. I guess I got caught up in it. That ring was the first thing I bought with the money from the Greyson estate. I just thought--here it is. Here's my chance to make Eliza happy." He pulled at the plastic covering the arm of his chair. "And I knew it was too soon--which is why I didn't say anything, I just put it on your finger. Because if you went along with it, I thought maybe . . ."
"Oh, Jer . . ."
"I know." He smiled ruefully.
"And here I thought I was the one with all the doubts."
"Nah. It's not like I've got it all figured out."
"Thank God." She sighed heavily, smiling as she got up to sit
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