AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The first hour of our Friday night hang-out is always the same, with Tabs telling me about all the thoughts that she’s kept in her head since the last time we talked.
Sometimes, she talks about the books she’s read. Other times, she tells me funny stories about library patrons, or Amelia’s latest escapades. Today, as we set the small kitchen table, she talks about Jane.
“I mean, I’m happy for her. Truly, I am,” she mutters then sighs again. “Bryan is nice. He’s literally perfect for her. But I can’t believe she’s having a baby already. They’ve only known each other for a few years, and they just got married. I’d need to know someone way longer than that. Ooh,” Tabs squeals as I pull the container from the bag and hand it to her, “you splurged on the spicy guac.”
“Told you. We’re celebrating.” I silently sigh to myself, wishing I could tell her about the real work project I just finished—that I'm actually a romance author and I wrote The Duke’s Treasure, the book she's currently obsessed with.
“But you don’t even like the spicy one.”
“I got myself the normal one.” I pull it out of the bag next.
“Phew.” She plops down into the chair and makes herself at home. At least, for the duration of dinner. Not once has she spent the night. And, in fairness, I’ve never invited her to, much as I’d love to make her breakfast.
“I think Jane and Bryan are perfect together,” I say.
She scrunches her nose. “I do, too. They really are. Is it bad that I still think they should have waited?”
I shake my head. “No. You’re responsible. And Mom always says that you can’t truly know a person until you’ve lived through four life crises with them.”
“Right,” Tabs nods. She spent enough time at my house growing up that she must have heard it a dozen times. “But four crises just sounds like someone who has bad luck to me.” Tab frowns as she stuffs ground beef into a taco shell.
I focus on filling two of my own. “Not at all. Normal, stressful stuff everyone faces can be a crisis. Like a stressful move. And having someone you’re close to, like a grandparent, die. And getting so sick you need someone to take care of you.” I take a bite as I recall going through them all with Tabs by my side.
“That’s just three. What’s the fourth crisis?”
“Taking a vacation together.”
“Why is that a crisis?” Tabs laughs. “We’ve been on tons of vacations together without a single crisis. I’m not sure I agree with your mom on that one.”
“Maybe,” I hedge, “but I do think she has a point. The only reason you say none of our road trips have had a crisis is because we deal with the unexpected well. Together.”
That last word echoes through my tiny kitchen as we eat a few bites in silence.
Tabs is the first one to break it. “Remember the time we took the wrong exit and decided that it was the Universe telling us we should take a different road trip?” She covers her mouth when she laughs.
I think about that trip all the time and recall it in vivid detail. We had no idea that we’d gotten onto a stretch of a virtually unused highway without another exit or gas station for over eighty miles.
“That’s exactly Mom’s point,” I say. “When we ran out of gas?—”
Tabs pushes her chair back and starts to sing Song of the Lonely Mountain from the soundtrack to The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey.
And even though I don’t have the best voice, I sing along, because that’s how we spent the two hours while we walked toward the closest town to find gas, belting out tunes from our favorite movies based on books, and listing all the reasons the book was better.
“That was our best road trip ever,” Tabs says.
The only thing that would have made it more perfect would have been being forced to share a bed in the roadside motel. But even if we had, Tabs didn’t see me that way then. She still doesn’t.
TABITHA
“Hey, Tabs,” Amelia peeks her head into the meeting room the following Friday. "All ready for book club?"
“Not really.” I grimace and adjust the corset that’s currently squeezing my torso like a vise. “I’m having trouble bending down in this thing.”
She takes in my red, floor-length Regency-era gown. “Is it just me or does it look a bit…” She gestures at her own waist. “Tight?”
I nod. “I ordered it from a costume shop in the city, and apparently it runs small. I didn't have enough time to mail it back for a replacement."
"Maybe you should change into something else?”
