“Older men are where it’s at,” Avery continued. “They have their shit together. They’re in control. They wanna settle down. It’s attractive. I see why you fell for Mark.”
Cadence emerged from the kitchen and eyed her friend suspiciously.
“Okay, yes. I wished for a while that I had something like what you have with Mark. I was a tad bit jealous because I saw how happy you were. How safe you felt. And when you would tell me about the little things he’d do for you to show you he cared, it made me feel lonely. I wanted something like that. I realized Gavin wasn’t it. Didn’t make a difference that he was older. Older doesn’t necessarily mean better. So I’m not really sure why I said older men are where it’s at.”
Cadence sat down on the club chair and drank her water. She didn’t even think about offering Avery a drink.
“At first, I just wanted to get laid. But Dylan wouldn’t sleep with me. He said he liked me—that he wanted to do things right. I didn’t understand what that meant until he showed me. I think Mark discouraged it at first until he saw that Dylan was serious. You wouldn’t know any of this because you’ve been absent.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“What’s embarrassing?” Avery asked.
“Our story is one thing, but come on. You two are just making it look absurd and silly. Go date a guy your own age,” Cadence said.
“You’re not,” Avery pointed out.
“My story isn’t your story,” Cadence argued.
“I know that. I’m not trying to live your story, Cadence. I’m trying to show you that I’m happy. Dylan’s happy. Why can’t you be happy for us?”
Why couldn’t she? She struggled with it for the past several weeks—the inability to be happy for a friend she cared so much for. Why? It was silly not to feel glad that Avery found a nice guy. She could only chalk it up to her anger at Mark. She was directing it at everyone. Well, except Carrie.
Carrie.
She’d managed to forget about the kiss until now. What the hell was that anyway? She wasn’t attracted to girls, but she couldn’t deny her attraction to that kiss. Maybe it was just the liquor.
“Are you listening to me?” Avery asked.
Cadence looked at the stranger sitting on her couch.
“Yes. I’m listening.”
Avery sighed. “Whatever. I came over here to try to make things right. I came here to try and understand why you’ve been so mean to me.”
Cadence blinked.
“Seriously? That’s your response? A fucking blink?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say! I can’t be around you right now. I can’t deal with your happiness.”
Avery looked shocked. “Who the hell are you?”
“I don’t know. Just an angry individual, I guess,” Cadence replied.
Her heart ached instantly, and she wanted to tell Avery she was sorry, but she couldn’t. Or rather, she wouldn’t. Not when her heart conjured those feelings of abandonment during her last weeks of high school. Avery wasn’t there for her. Avery had disappeared. Avery ignored her and threw insults at her when she couldn’t ignore her.
But she apologized, her brain said.
So what? I can’t forget that! Why does she expect me to be nice to her when she’s basically throwing her happiness in my face? Cadence shot back.
Nobody’s throwing any happiness in your face. She’s trying to share her life with you. That’s what friends do.
Fuck that! She’s trying to have my life! Cadence thought. She looked at Avery who sat studying her face. She knew it was contorted with rage, and she thought the wisest thing Avery could do was leave before she said something unforgiveable.
“You should leave,” Cadence said quietly.
Avery stood and gathered her purse. She walked to the door and paused.
“I love you,” she said. Her voice quavered, and Cadence knew she was about to cry. “I wish you’d come back.”
Cadence listened as the door closed, leaving her isolated in the tiny living room—a space that held many wonderful memories that she couldn’t summon. Not one. They retreated when the knowledge set in of Mark’s past and her inconsequence. He could spend the rest of his life telling her he didn’t mean it, but she had already convinced herself of her unimportance. And suddenly she realized why she was sabotaging all of her relationships: She had tricked her brain into believing she brought nothing to them. That her life had no purpose. That she was meaningless. Just a silly girl to bend and break. She couldn’t see that it was no one but herself doing the breaking.
***
Cadence helped Fanny out of the car. She linked their arms and started down the park trail, taking in the view of an early spring. Buds dotted the dogwood trees, and verdant green colored the space on either side of them.
“You know, this is my favorite season,” Fanny said.
“Why’s that?”
“Because everything starts over. Rebirth. Renewal. New beginnings.”
Cadence nodded.
“It’s a chance to make things right,” she went on.
“I know what you’re getting at,” Cadence replied.
“I know you do.”
They strolled down the pathway, saying hello to other visitors as they passed.
“I’ve adopted you as my granddaughter,” Fanny said.