reminders of Cooper Murphy or this whole crazy year.
Except.
She slid the basket closer with her foot so she could just reach the binder without actually moving from the couch. She opened the cover and flipped past the first few pages to the archival pocket where she’d tucked Cooper’s fairy tale. As soon as she had it in her hand, she remembered how she’d felt that night when he proposed. It had been wrong for them to get engaged, but she’d wanted it to be right. He’d convinced her.
Tricked her.
Loved her.
He had loved her. Or at least, she’d thought he did. She’d wanted him to. If he didn’t love her, what kind of fool was she for imagining he did?
Could he have written the fairy tale for someone he didn’t love? She smoothed a hand over the words on the last page, “And so on…” He’d taken it for granted that they’d live happily ever after. She hadn’t, but she’d hoped.
The front doorbell chimed and she jumped, banging her knee on the coffee table and spilling a few Cheetos. Who could be at her door?
Her first thought was Cooper but she told herself not to be an idiot. He wasn’t coming back. Men never did.
She put the binder in the basket. A few stray Cheetos lay on the table and she scooped them into the bowl, which she pushed under the couch with her foot before limping to the door and peering out the sidelight window.
Alice, still wearing her work clothes, a lavender bakery box in one hand, stood on her top step. She lifted the box and smiled. “Jorie?” Her voice was muffled by the heavy wooden door. “I, uh, I brought you a cake.”
Alice? Alice was her friend, but not a dropping-in kind of friend. As a matter of fact, Jorie didn’t have any friends of the dropping-in kind, probably because she was a private person. After a childhood spent moving and trying to fit into other people’s homes and lives, she treasured the sanctuary of her own place where the only memories were ones she’d chosen. Still, Alice was her friend and she wouldn’t turn her away.
“One second,” she called.
Her sneakers were on the floor of the small foyer closet. She shoved her feet into them, hoping Alice would think she’d been on her way out to the gym. She slid the chain across before unlocking the dead bolt.
“Sorry for not calling first,” Alice said. “But when you left I had this feeling you were going to be alone tonight, so I took the chance.” She noticedJorie’s sweats. “Oh, were you going to the gym? I can leave the cake.”
Something about the way Alice was holding herself back, creating a clear dividing line between herself and Jorie’s home, told Jorie that the other woman felt uncomfortable being there. Maybe dropping in wasn’t something she did either. But Alice had taken a risk in coming and Jorie couldn’t shoot her down.
“No. Please, come in.” She stepped back and Alice handed her the cake.
“Thank goodness,” Alice said while Jorie locked the door. “Eliot’s incompetence was driving me insane. If I went home by myself I’d probably spend the night putting a job posting online and collecting résumés when the last thing I need is to train a new employee. If I spend some time with you, maybe the horror of Eliot will have subsided by the time I leave.”
“He was kind of cute,” Jorie said. “Befuddled can be endearing.”
“In a koala bear, maybe. Not my counter help. He has a very beautiful boyfriend, though, who picks him up after work. If I fire him, I won’t get to admire Jared anymore. I suppose my daily ogle is worth something. Your place is gorgeous.” Alice glanced around the tiny foyer that opened into the living room. “I love older places like this. My condois so new and bland…I can’t help feeling it will always be superficial.”
Jorie led her inside, turning on another lamp in the living room. Alice, ever-attuned to details, admired the slip-covered sofa and ran her hand across the throw pillows heaped in the corner.
Except.
She slid the basket closer with her foot so she could just reach the binder without actually moving from the couch. She opened the cover and flipped past the first few pages to the archival pocket where she’d tucked Cooper’s fairy tale. As soon as she had it in her hand, she remembered how she’d felt that night when he proposed. It had been wrong for them to get engaged, but she’d wanted it to be right. He’d convinced her.
Tricked her.
Loved her.
He had loved her. Or at least, she’d thought he did. She’d wanted him to. If he didn’t love her, what kind of fool was she for imagining he did?
Could he have written the fairy tale for someone he didn’t love? She smoothed a hand over the words on the last page, “And so on…” He’d taken it for granted that they’d live happily ever after. She hadn’t, but she’d hoped.
The front doorbell chimed and she jumped, banging her knee on the coffee table and spilling a few Cheetos. Who could be at her door?
Her first thought was Cooper but she told herself not to be an idiot. He wasn’t coming back. Men never did.
She put the binder in the basket. A few stray Cheetos lay on the table and she scooped them into the bowl, which she pushed under the couch with her foot before limping to the door and peering out the sidelight window.
Alice, still wearing her work clothes, a lavender bakery box in one hand, stood on her top step. She lifted the box and smiled. “Jorie?” Her voice was muffled by the heavy wooden door. “I, uh, I brought you a cake.”
Alice? Alice was her friend, but not a dropping-in kind of friend. As a matter of fact, Jorie didn’t have any friends of the dropping-in kind, probably because she was a private person. After a childhood spent moving and trying to fit into other people’s homes and lives, she treasured the sanctuary of her own place where the only memories were ones she’d chosen. Still, Alice was her friend and she wouldn’t turn her away.
“One second,” she called.
Her sneakers were on the floor of the small foyer closet. She shoved her feet into them, hoping Alice would think she’d been on her way out to the gym. She slid the chain across before unlocking the dead bolt.
“Sorry for not calling first,” Alice said. “But when you left I had this feeling you were going to be alone tonight, so I took the chance.” She noticedJorie’s sweats. “Oh, were you going to the gym? I can leave the cake.”
Something about the way Alice was holding herself back, creating a clear dividing line between herself and Jorie’s home, told Jorie that the other woman felt uncomfortable being there. Maybe dropping in wasn’t something she did either. But Alice had taken a risk in coming and Jorie couldn’t shoot her down.
“No. Please, come in.” She stepped back and Alice handed her the cake.
“Thank goodness,” Alice said while Jorie locked the door. “Eliot’s incompetence was driving me insane. If I went home by myself I’d probably spend the night putting a job posting online and collecting résumés when the last thing I need is to train a new employee. If I spend some time with you, maybe the horror of Eliot will have subsided by the time I leave.”
“He was kind of cute,” Jorie said. “Befuddled can be endearing.”
“In a koala bear, maybe. Not my counter help. He has a very beautiful boyfriend, though, who picks him up after work. If I fire him, I won’t get to admire Jared anymore. I suppose my daily ogle is worth something. Your place is gorgeous.” Alice glanced around the tiny foyer that opened into the living room. “I love older places like this. My condois so new and bland…I can’t help feeling it will always be superficial.”
Jorie led her inside, turning on another lamp in the living room. Alice, ever-attuned to details, admired the slip-covered sofa and ran her hand across the throw pillows heaped in the corner.
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