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“I lied, ok?”
They all gasp. Chelle slaps my shoulder. “You? What did you lie about?”
Tears stream down my face. “I’m sorry, but so many things. I told him I went to college. I told him I’m a stylist for commercial shoots. I told him I graduated high school on time. I didn’t tell him I was a mess or how much he really means to me.”
“Settle down. You can explain all of that when he gets here. He’s flying here to see you.”
Julia covers her heart. “That’s so romantic. He’ll listen.”
“You’re not getting it! He thinks I live in LA. Not here with you.”
They gasp again.
Chelle slaps my hand. “How do you feel about him?”
“For real. Dig deep, Mak,” Julia says, holding my hand.
Lana says while she scrolls for something on her phone, “How important is this? You can blow him off and never see him again. He has no way to really find you, right? We can get you a new number. You’re out if you want to be, Doll.”
I inhale and exhale, and my whole body is cramped. I’m dizzy, and tears lick at the back of my eyes again. The idea of never seeing this man again is too much. It’s nothing and everything. Oh God.
Julia squeezes my hand. “How do you feel?”
“Lost. Sad. Panicked.”
“Why?”
It all comes out in a rush of a sob and catharsis. “I love him. He’s the only man I’ve ever loved. Or will ever love like this. I can’t get over him and I can’t forget him for making me feel less and he didn’t even know it. I never told him all of this shit and now I’m even more of a mess—”
Chelle smiles. “You know you’re phenomenal, right? Everything you do for everyone around you. You deserve to be happy.”
Lana says, “And a man doesn’t just fly in from—”
“Boston.”
Chelle slaps my arm again. I’m going to be covered in her greasy handprints. “A man doesn’t fly across the country just to get a story straight. He loves you too.”
“I can’t. He’ll always need someone more than me.”
I let the tears fall. Then the women all crowd around me in a slippery hug.
Julia, who never swears, gets up in my face, “You know that’s a bunch of horse pucky right there. Anyone would be lucky to have you. And not only are you enough for anyone, but you’re also more than most.” She nods violently as if emphasizing her point to a crowd.
Chelle says, “What’s it going to take for you to know you’re enough? Stop wasting time. Take it from us, there’s not enough of it.” I let them hug me, and a small knot deep in my soul eases as I decide to tell him.
Lana backs up and shows me her phone. “Go. Find him.”
I stare at a plane ticket to Los Angeles that leaves soon.
“I don’t have kids. So let me do this.” Lana touches my arm.
“This is too much. What do I do?”
“Well, I’d hustle and wash your face because your plane leaves in two hours. I’ll book you a hotel.” A text comes in with the details and a link to the ticket.
Chelle looks at me. “Let us help you. You don’t have to do everything on your own. Even though we know you can. But you should know, we know you can’t.” They look at each other. “Wisdom, bitch. The sooner you kick the chip on your shoulder to the curb the better—did I use that correctly?”
I nod. “If it’s the 1990s, sure.”
