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“A lot.” Taking the Champagne from her, I start unraveling the gold foil. “But, seeing as though I’m driving, I will have one with you and then watch as you finish the bottle.”
“Deal.”
I start gently rolling the cork, hoping to remove it with as little fuss as possible to preserve the effervescence, but Suzy drum rolls her hands on the counter and yells, “Pop that bitch like you’re celebrating, goddamnit!”
Losing myself in the moment, I edge my thumbs up the cork, and oblige. The cork ejects with a loud pop and hits the ceiling, causing Suzy to hunch her shoulders, ducking slightly as if to avoid falling plaster.
“Sorry,” I manage as the Champagne froths over the lip of the bottle, spilling on the floor at my feet. “But it was your idea.”
Walking to the cabinet, Suzy takes two flutes down and passes them to me. I fill the glasses as she swabs the floor with some paper towels.
When she’s done, I hold out one of the glasses for her. She takes it with a small shake of her head and a grin. Holding her glass between us, she toasts, “To the many Catherines you have yet to discover.”
“May you be best friends with each of them.”
“Fuck yes.” She clinks her glass to mine.
As we sip our Champagne, I tell Suzy everything. I laugh when I recount our beach house rendezvous, and I tell her how it felt when I opened the door and saw Aiden sitting in his vehicle as if he couldn’t decide whether to come in or not. There was something in his eyes when he saw me, standing in the doorway. A flash of realization. A touch of disbelief…A butterfly finding it’s resting place.
“Have you told him yet?”
I don’t have to ask what she’s talking about. Suzanne knows me better than anybody, even Aiden—for now. “I haven’t.”
“Why the hell not?” She takes a deep swig of her Champagne. “Being able to say, ‘I love you’, is a privilege most people never even think about. But girls like us…”
“It’s harder.”
“Yeah.”
She sounds so sad admitting it that I can’t help but reach over and hug her to me.
“The opportunity to say it and mean it almost never arises.” Suzy leans back on her barstool, a faint smile on her lips. “I think the only person I’ve ever said, ‘I love you’, to is Samuel.”
“Your brother is incredibly loveable,” I cede, trying to make her feel better.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “Yeah, he is.”
“Hey, Suze?”
“Yeah,” she replies tipsily.
“I love you—very much.”
Suzanne’s eyes water but she rasps, “I love you too, Cat.
Seeing that she’s feeling vaguely uncomfortable by how deep we’re wading, I look at the time on my phone. “I should get going.”
“You okay to drive?”
“Ah, Suze, I had half a pour.” I point to my flute on the counter, the soft bubbles in the Champagne rising to a third of the way up the delicate glass.
“Jesus.” She looks at the bottle. “Did I drink all of that?”
“Yes.But,” I hop off the barstool, “you have nowhere to be and a big, comfy bed in the next room.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
As I start for the spiral staircase with nothing but the clothes I arrived in and my purse, I can’t help but turn. “Hey…” Suzanne looks at me, her eyebrows raised. “Thank you.”
