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I picked up my handbag and took the handle of my trolley from her to roll it back toward the door.
“I already feel guilty packing you and you’re teasing me,” Mary said, but relief crossed her face. “I’m still sorry, but thanks for understanding.”
We shuffled out of the house. I handed her the key, then remembered it was my spare, and put it back on my key ring.
“You know, I don’t have a key to your bachelorette pad,” Mary said.
She opened her trunk and loaded her large, overfilled backpack and my trolley bag. I could have sworn I gave her my set of spare keys.
“Come visit me in New York sometime and I’ll be sure to get you another one,” I countered. “Because I’m assuming you must have lost the one I gave you last year?”
“I don’t have your keys,” Mary said simply, then added, “So we’re off to South station?”
“Actually, I’m going to the airport.”
She shot me a quizzical look. We both knew plane tickets were twice as much as taking the train.
“I was late getting back because I was talking to Jonas,” I explained. “He sent me a ticket. And he… wants to talk when he returns. As friends.”
She beamed at me. “Good. He came to his senses, just took him a few days.” She climbed inside the car and I followed suit, buckling myself in my seat. “Friendship, eh? Make him stick to it.”
I looked out the window. “And just how am I supposed to make that happen?” It was more a rhetorical question, so I continued, “He said he wanted to talk. So that’s a start, I guess.”
“You’re going to tell him about Declan, right?” Mary asked as she started the car.
“I’ll handle it,” I assured her.
She blew out a puff of air. “Talk it out. If you don’t trust him, then you shouldn’t be with him. You deserve the best, Lily.”
I closed my eyes. She meant well and I appreciated it, but she was also back to lecturing. “I didn’t even get a shower,” I whined, signaling a change in the subject.
Luckily, Mary bit. “The other runs were a half hour. You were gone almost two hours this time.” She shrugged as she drove down the road. “So, where did you go?”
“I went to Quincy,” I said. “Back to the old house. I just… I wanted to see it again.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, Lily,” Mary said.
Sadness enveloped the car as she drove on. It only got worse when we reached the highway, not far from where my parents had died.
I sought a distraction and texted David back, letting him know I was in compliance and on my way to the airport. Then I reached out and turned on the radio. I pressed Mary’s CD player, andHeartfilled the car. She sped past the spot of my parents’ death and started singing. We took turns belting lyrics the rest of the drive to the airport.
Mary pulled up to the five-minute stopping point and we quickly unloaded. We looked at each other, and I laughed at the mismatched outfit she had on. She wore a flannel, long gypsy skirt, and a pair of cowboy boots along with a side ponytail circa the 1980s. I giggled, and told her exactly why.
“At least I showered,” Mary said, jutting her chin.
“Love you, Mare bear,” I said with a smile.
She gave me a lethal look. I knew she didn’t like her family nickname, but we both enjoyed teasing each other.
“Love you, too, Tiger Lily,” she finally replied. “Call me when you get back.”
I took her hug and waved her off as she drove to Boston College. I already missed her as I went into the terminal and up to the ticket counter. I typed in the e-ticket confirmation number David had texted me.
My flight was due to leave two hours later, but boarded a good forty minutes early. I used the time to check my work email and send some responses to Gregor. I sat down in my seat on the plane and felt relieved. I missed New York City and my life there. I wanted my apartment, my shower, and my bed.
When we arrived in Newark, I rushed through security as quickly as I could and was jovial when I saw David there waiting for me. I was even poised when I climbed inside the car and sent a dutiful text to Jonas, letting him know I had arrived. I was practically beaming with the possibilities. Ten days and he’d be back here with me.
The sun was hot on my back as I climbed out of the car twenty minutes later at my apartment. I convinced David to hand over my bag once I was inside my building. As soon as I got off the elevator, I dug through my bag for my keys, only to find the door already open. I was even more surprised when I found my roommate, Natasha, there on a work afternoon. She was standing in a T-shirt cooking breakfast. The aroma of bacon and eggs had my mouth watering, but nothing about this meal was on my diet plan. Or Natasha’s.
