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Although for some reason, Valerie didn't seem all that bothered that Raina has decided to get married again. Which makes me a little uncomfortable because I have to wonder if Valerie is next.
A few moments later, they walk out of the kitchen and sit down at the table. When Raina speaks, her voice is low and she sounds hurt. “You're supposed to be happy for me, Moira. You're supposed to support me, even if you think I'm wrong. That's what friends do.”
“Friends also protect one another, especially if they think they're making a mistake.” As I say the words, I think about how much heartache we could have saved Olivia if we had just come forward and told her from the get go that things would not work out between her and Darren.
Still, the anger and sadness in her eyes tells me it doesn't matter what I say, she's going to be angry with me, potentially until the end of time. “Sure, speak your mind. But you're also supposed to be supportive, not judgmental, not critical, and not trying to stop me.”
I lift both shoulders, not sure how else to tell her that we see this whole situation very, very differently. I don't think that letting my friend walk into a lion’s den unprotected and without any idea what she's facing is supportive. Just telling her congratulations and that I'm happy for her wouldn’t do her any favors. But it would keep me from sleeping at night.
She seems to know that I disagree. “You need to let the past go, Moira. You need to stop blaming everyone for the men who broke your heart. And you sure as heck shouldn't begrudge a friend who has finally found happiness. Just because my husband died doesn't mean that I should spend the rest of my life miserable and alone.”
She finally seems done with me and turns to Valerie. “Thank you for being supportive, even if you have your reservations. We haven't planned anything yet, but will you be there?”
“At your wedding?” Valerie seemed surprised by the question and Raina nods.
“Of course. If you want me to be there, I'll be there and I'm happy for you.” Valerie pulls our friend in for a hug, then Raina glances at me over her shoulder.
“See, this is what good friends do; they support one another.”
“I don't think I ever said I wasn't happy for you or that I didn't support you. I just want you to think about the repercussions of your actions and make sure that you're doing the right thing. We do have to admit that I feel like this is a bit of a betrayal after we all agreed not to get married.” I lift a shoulder, willing to even let that go.
“Well, you sure have a funny way of showing your support, and it's not a way that I think I can accept. As things stand now, you're not invited to the wedding. It's possible that might change in the future, but right now, I'm sorry. I don't think we can work this out.”
As she says the words, my heart sinks and I realize this might be the end of our friendship. Even Valerie seems stunned as her mouth drops open, but Raina seems serious.
“I'm not going to try to force somebody to be my friend that doesn't want to be. I'm sad to see you go and I wish you could see that I only have the best of intentions for you, but if you can't see that, then I understand.” With those words, I push my chair back from the table and stand up.
“Moira, you’re not going to drive home,” Valerie says.
“Don't worry, Val. I'll call an Uber.” As I make my way toward the door, I sense that Raina wants to say something, but I need to get out before I start bawling.
I'm stunned, upset, and hurt.
I'm not sure I can process what just happened.
And I can't help but wonder what's going to happen next.
Chapter Twelve
Michael
I sit a few seats down from my father on the L-shaped leather couch in his living room. He seems happy and relaxed in his white T-shirt and blue jeans.
“What can I say? I like living dangerously,” he says, catching my glance and lifting his coffee cup, as if telling me that it's dangerous to drink coffee with a white shirt on. While I want to groan at the obvious dad joke, instead, I decide to enjoy his humor and the moment.
“So Betty brought me some homemade flan and we shared it after swim class.” As he talks about her, there's a sparkle in his eye, and I can't hold back a smile as I shift in my seat. Of course, knowing my dad, it's hard to tell what he's in love with, the woman or the dessert.
“Did you tell Deborah from bingo?” I ask and he meets my gaze with a chuckle. “You know, so that she knows to up her game if she wants to stay in the running.” I'm kidding, of course, but it's fun to see my dad living his life and just being happy. He deserves to find some joy, especially after all he's done for me.
Growing up poor like I did, I know firsthand far too many stories of fathers that walked away or dropped the ball as far as parenting was concerned. Even though we didn't have much, dad always took care of me to the best of his ability, and he worked hard for everything we had.
And all of that hard work and effort he put in just makes it sweeter now that I'm successful and can take care of him.
“I didn't even think of that. That's genius.” He strokes his chin and stares off into space, clearly plotting and I chuckle.
It's good that he stays active and social, without the drinking and insanity my mother indulges in. After her horrific comments, when I finally found success, I decided it was smarter just to cut her out of my life as much as possible. After all, she divorced my dad when I was two and took off, leaving him to fend for the family so she could go have fun and enjoy her life, sowing her wild oats.
She didn't try to have any contact with me until I was an adult and showed up on my first magazine cover when my app took off.
