AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She arrived to find a cheerful restaurant with a sunny patio and two full menu pages dedicated to various types of avocado toast.
After an embarrassed hug, where they each bobbed while the other weaved, Jill leaned back in her chair. “I’m so glad you called, Clara. What a nice surprise. I can’t believe how grown-up you look.”
“Thank you.” Before she’d moved away, Clara had always admired Jill for the way she conveyed a kind of effortless cool that stood out among the country club crowd in Greenwich. “I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. Or . . . ever really.”
The word aunt stuck on her tongue. For ten years, Clara had heard the woman across from her referred to as “a blemish on the family legacy.” Jill certainly understood the consequences of thwarting familial expectations firsthand.
“Relax.” Jill waved away her apology. “I don’t blame you.” Her voice reminded Clara of honey mixed into whiskey. As if someone had warmed her vocal cords, softening the edges.
When the older woman shook out her long dark hair, Clara caught the resemblance between them. She’d always known she didn’t take after her mother. Everything about Lily Wheaton stayed neat and compact, from her manicured bob to her perfectly tailored pastel capris. If Lily was a ruler, Jill and Clara were French curves.
“You’re not mad?” Clara chewed her bottom lip.
The laughter died in Jill’s eyes and she stared at the menu for a long moment. “I may have some choice words saved up for my father, but time and space provide a lot of perspective. I’m very happy to see you in any case. Your hair’s shorter than in the pictures your mom sent me from your graduation.”
Iced tea splashed onto the tablecloth as Clara halted her glass’s progression toward her mouth. “My mother sent you pictures?” As far as she knew, her mother never put a toe out of line. Contacting Jill, a persona non grata, counted as positively reckless.
“Yeah, every couple of months for years now. Lily sends them by email after most major occasions.” Light returned to Jill’s eyes. “She’s very proud of you.”
Guilt climbed up Clara’s throat. “I was supposed to be her consolation prize, but I’ve abandoned the mantle.”
Leaving a gaping hole in her wake.
“I know what that’s like.” Jill smiled ruefully. “Somehow the men in our family tend to get away with a lot more than the women. Your mom’s weathered a lot of storms from my father and brother, and now Oliver. It can’t be easy.”
Lily didn’t know the definition of easy. At six years old, Clara had padded downstairs in her nightgown to find her mother sitting at the kitchen table, sobbing into her palm as the news of another Wheaton family scandal broke. She’d crawled into her mother’s lap and promised to be different. Vowed to never give her mother cause for concern—never cause her a moment’s heartache—and up until a few days ago, she’d faithfully fulfilled her vow.
Jill placed her hand on top of Clara’s. “You okay?”
Clara nodded, washing down the lump in her throat with her remaining iced tea. “Do you miss it? Greenwich, I mean?”
Snowflakes of carbs rained down from between Jill’s fingers as she tore her breadstick to pieces. “Sure, sometimes. I’ll never get used to warm weather on Christmas. But I’m grateful for the blank page I got out here. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but at least they belong to me. There’s a strange pride in taking full responsibility for the consequences of your actions, however
they fall.” Wiping the lenses of her sunglasses with her cloth napkin, Jill continued. “But enough about me. What brings you to Los Angeles?”
Where should she start? Most of Clara’s rationale for moving was mortifying. She struggled to select the one that made her look the least idiotic. I moved out here because I’m pushing thirty and I’ve spent my entire life in the cocoon of academia, avoiding the real world. Because I was chasing a fourteen-year-long unrequited crush. Because I could no longer bear the burden of maintaining our family’s expectations.
She decided on an abridged version of the Everett story. Thinking of his abrupt abandonment still gave her a stomachache, but at least that version of the narrative spoke of only one weakness instead of a whole tangle of them.
Sharing the embarrassing episode, even in part, further eased the burn of the rejection.
When she was done, Jill propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm. “Okay, after all that, I have to ask, what’s so special about Everett Bloom?”
That question had followed Clara from adolescence to adulthood. “Everett makes me feel safe. Growing up with him was like getting cooked in a lobster pot. We became friends when the water was still cold, and by the time it started boiling, by the time he’d turned into this knockout, I was already too comfortable with him to freak out the way I normally do around extremely attractive men.”
“Slow boil or fast, still sounds painful,” Jill said.
No counterargument sprang to mind. “We know everything about each other. Our families are friends. It’s always been simple. And I know, if I could get him to see it, to see me as someone other than his nerdy, bucktoothed neighbor, we’d be perfect. Besides, I’ve never done anything selfish or impulsive in my life. All I wanted was a taste of adventure, but instead I ended up with a false start.”
A chirp sounded from her pocket, earning their table the stink eye from a few other diners. “Excuse me.” She unlocked the screen of her cell. “Oh, for crying out loud.”
“What’s up?”
“Nothing. Sorry. It’s my new roommate. I gave him my number in case of emergency and now he won’t stop sending me selfies.” The message read, SOS we desperately need toilet paper!!! and included a photo of Josh with his mouth open in a silent scream of anguish.
Jill lowered her menu. “Ooh, I want to see this mystery man.”
Clara handed the device across the table, thankful that Josh at least had all his clothes on in the shot.
