Sad Girls

“We are?”


“Yes, we do one every year, over on the shore. We build a huge bonfire and have a band come out to play. The locals bring a dish each—kind of like a potluck. We do some fun stuff for the kids as well. Like bobbing for apples, you know.”

“Sounds fun!”

“There will be fireworks too.”

“Really? I love fireworks!”

“So you and Rad will be there?”

“Of course,” I said. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Wonderful,” she beamed. “I’m picking up some leaflets from the printer tomorrow. I’ll make sure to drop one by.”

“Great. Looking forward to it!”


The following week, Rad and I stood by a raging bonfire on the beach, toasting marshmallows and chatting to Linda, who taught at the local elementary school. The band was a trio of women who played folk music with an assortment of instruments—banjo, flute, and tambourine. Throngs of children were laughing and running around with glow sticks and sparklers.

“I can’t wait for the school holidays,” said Linda. “Just four more weeks and I’m off to Fiji. I love my kids, but it’s nice to have a break every now and then.” She took a sip of her beer. “How about the two of you? What are your plans?”

“Audrey’s almost finished her first book,” said Rad.

“Really?” Linda turned to me. “What’s your book about?”

“It’s just a collection of short stories.”

“Oh, I’d love to read it when it’s done.”

“You’d love it,” said Rad, putting his arm around my shoulder. “She’s a regular Mary Shelley.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” I protested.

“Sounds like my cup of tea,” said Linda, with a sigh. “Look at you two, a couple of budding young authors. Living the dream.”

Rad shrugged and grinned. “I’ll admit it’s good to be writing again after a long hiatus.”

“My friend read A Snowflake in a Snowfield a few weeks back. She loved it. Nearly fell over when I told her I knew the author. We’re all keen on a second book.” She paused. “Will there be a second book?”

“Yeah. I sent the outline to my agent a few days back. Just waiting to hear from her.”

“I’m sure she’ll be over the moon.”

“Any clues about the story?” Linda asked.

“I’d better not talk about it; I don’t want to jinx it,” said Rad.

“I totally understand.” Linda pulled a freshly toasted marshmallow off the stick in her hand and popped it into her mouth.

“I think I’m going to grab another slice of pizza. Do you guys want anything?”

Linda groaned, “I couldn’t eat another bite.”

“I wouldn’t mind another beer,” said Rad.

“Sure, I’ll grab one for you.”

I left them talking and made a beeline for the trestle table ladened with an assortment of food. I bumped into Maud. With her skirt partly hitched, she was dancing merrily by the band.

“You made it!” She stretched her arm out toward me. “Have a dance with me?”

I laughed. “Okay.” I took her other hand and tried my best to keep up with her.

“You look happy, sweetheart,” she said, a little out of breath.

“I am happy.” I meant it.

“You deserve it. I think you and Rad have something truly magical.” A touch of sadness fell on her face. “It reminds me of what I had once. Something you get once in your life and only if you’re very lucky. Speaking of Rad, where is he? I don’t think I’ve seen him at all tonight.”

“I just left him over by the bonfire, talking to Linda.”

I glanced over my shoulder, but Linda was standing there with her husband, and Rad was nowhere to be seen. I frowned. “He was there just a second ago.” My eyes scanned the crowd, but I couldn’t see him anywhere.

“You’d better go and find him, dear; the fireworks are going off soon.”

“I’ll see if I can track him down. I know he wouldn’t want to miss it.”

I walked back over to the bonfire and asked Linda if she knew where Rad had gone.

“He got a phone call but had trouble hearing over the music, so he went over that way.” She pointed in the direction of the sand dunes farther toward the shoreline.

“Thanks, Linda.” I headed down that way.

I finally spotted him in the distance, walking back toward the party, phone clutched in hand. He caught my eye and waved. When he got closer, I could see there was a shell-shocked expression on his face.

“Everything okay?” I asked cautiously.

“Yeah. I just got off the phone with my agent. You know the outline I sent her for my next book? She was calling me about that.”

“Did she like it?”

“She did.”

“That’s wonderful!” I said, beaming at him. “I told you she would.”

“But something really weird happened. My agent is friends with a major producer in Hollywood, and she sent my outline through to him. The producer fell head over heels for the story and wants to develop it into a film.”

“You are kidding me!”

He shook his head slowly and let out a breath. “I’m not. They want me to go to L.A. to work with another writer.”

“Are you serious?” My heart began thumping in exhilaration. “Rad, do you have any idea how amazing this is?”

We looked at each other, not quite knowing what to say.

“When do they want you out there?”

“As soon as possible.”

“Oh my God,” I said, as the realization sank in. “You’re going to L.A.!”

“I guess so. Will you come with me?”

“Yes!” I said, without any hesitation. “Of course.”

In one smooth motion, he picked me up and swung me around. A loud bang tore through the night air, and we looked up to see a burst of magenta sparks erupt across the night sky. There were animated cheers in the distance.

“Fireworks! How appropriate.”

He laughed and then kissed me hard as the sky was suddenly filled with bursts of multicolored light. We looked up, arms wrapped tightly around each other, our faces aglow.

“Everything is going to be okay from now on, Audrey. I just know it!”


Lucy was thrilled when I told her.

“Actually, I have some news too. My uncle’s contract has been renewed, so he’ll be in Paris for the next few years. He’s asked me if I could stay on, and of course I said yes. You know Freddy practically lives here anyway, but we wanted to make it official. You know, move in together for real.”

“So you’ve managed to convince him—finally.”

“Uh-huh,” she said happily. “I’m really excited about it.”

“How are his parents taking it?”

Lucy sighed. “He hasn’t told them yet.”

“No?”

“I’m giving him until the end of this month. I said if he doesn’t, the offer is going to my barista, Samuel, who’s house hunting at the moment. He may be gay, but he’s dreamy as hell, and I wouldn’t mind waking up to great coffee and eye candy every morning.”

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