“Me, too.”
They walked the short distance to the restaurant. It was early enough that the place wasn’t too crowded. They were shown to a quiet table on the patio. Harlow scanned the happy hour drinks menu, letting price as much as the description inform her decision. She was a bargain shopper now—something of a change, but not a bad one, she thought.
Once they’d placed their drinks order, Harlow smiled at her friend.
“Are you excited about school?”
“Mostly scared. I’m afraid everyone will be smarter than me.”
“Not possible. At least one of them has to be as smart as you.”
Enid laughed. “I was looking for more support.”
“Why? You know you’re uncomfortably bright. You’re lucky I’m willing to be friends with you what with you being so freakish.”
Enid studied her. “You seem okay. I thought you’d be more upset about Kip.”
Harlow had told her about the breakup but not the final details. She wasn’t hiding Kip’s behavior so much as still processing it and trying to figure out if it mattered much beyond proving he really was a jerk.
“I got over him pretty fast,” Harlow admitted. “I thought I was desperately in love with him. I thought I wanted to marry him. What does it say about me that I was completely wrong?”
Enid grinned. “That you’re human?”
“Or that I’m an idiot.” She held up a hand. “Not in an ‘I’m pathetic’ way, but you have to admit, I had no idea who Kip was. Why didn’t I ask more questions, or really take a look at his character? What made me fall in love with him to begin with? What if the whole relationship was based on the fact that I was getting close to graduating from college and the next obvious step was getting married? Am I really that shallow?”
“That’s way too many questions,” Enid told her.
“I know, but it’s what I’m working through. I want to figure out what went wrong. What was my fault or at least my responsibility, and what’s on him? Then I want to do better next time.”
“You’ve really changed. Grown up, I guess.” Enid grimaced. “Not that you weren’t grown-up before.”
Harlow laughed. “I know exactly what you mean. And you’re right. I’ve changed a lot. When I think about fighting with my mom about having the wedding in the backyard, I’m so ashamed.”
“But you’ve made up?”
Harlow thought about how everything was different now. “Yes. We’re good. We’re both moving on with our lives.”
“She’s going back to California?”
Harlow nodded. Hopefully her mom would have the courage to tell Mason how she really felt, and they could work it out. They were so good together, and she would, selfishly, like to have Mason as her stepdad. And speaking of stepparents…
“My dad’s going to buy my mom’s house,” she said. “It’s a whole thing with Zafina.”
She explained how her father technically owned half the house and that he’d brought Zafina to see it.
“I left for an hour,” she continued. “They were still there when I got back, and Zafina couldn’t stop crying. I assume that was pregnancy hormones, because she doesn’t strike me as the crying type.”
Their drinks arrived. When their server had left, Harlow said, “They’re getting married.”
“You okay with that?” Enid asked.
“I guess. I’m going to have a half brother or sister. That’s weird. Okay—we’ve only talked about me. Time for a subject change.”
They talked about Enid’s fall class schedule and whether or not she thought she could come back for the Christmas holiday. They ordered their dinner, then a second round of drinks. At a break in the conversation, Harlow reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope.
“So, I have something for you,” she said, smiling at her friend. “Before I give it to you, I want you to know how much your friendship means to me. You’re smart and kind and supportive, and you could be best friends with anyone, but you’ve chosen me. I know I don’t always make it easy.”
Enid looked confused and a little afraid. “What are you talking about?”
“Medical school. It’s not right you’re going to graduate with a hundred thousand dollars in debt.”
Enid grimaced. “You’re talking about my outburst from before. Pretend that never happened. I’ll be fine. It’s no big deal.”
“It kind of is, and I want to help.” She held out the envelope. “With this.”
Enid took it and pulled out the check. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open as she stared at the amount.
“No! You can’t. Harlow, what are you doing?”
“Giving you a check for fifty thousand dollars.”
Enid started to cry. “You don’t have this kind of money. This is crazy. No. I won’t accept it.”
“You have to. And I do have the money.” She told her about the inheritance from Lillian. “I want to do this. Enid, you’re my friend, and I love you. Let me do this for you. Please. It would mean so much to me if you’d accept it.”
“But you can’t.”
“I can. I still have plenty for my future. You’re going to be a doctor, and I want to be a part of that.” She grinned. “Not the studying part, just the pride part.”
Enid wiped her face, then flung her arms around Harlow. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Take it, I beg you.”
“Thank you.” Enid hung on tight. “Thank you. This is changing my life. I can never repay you.”
“That’s not what I want. Go be a great doctor, and when you’re rich and famous, do the same for someone else.”
They both sat back and smiled at each other.
“I can’t believe it,” Enid said. “I’ve never seen a check for so much.” She laughed. “I can’t use my app to deposit it. The amount is too big. I’ll have to go to the bank.”
“A novel experience. We’ll go in the morning first thing.”
More drinks arrived, along with their dinner. As they talked about people they knew and maybe getting a pedicure tomorrow, Harlow couldn’t stop smiling. She’d done a good thing for someone she cared about. She was proud of herself and happy for her friend. She had a new job and her very first ever apartment by herself. She didn’t know where she would be in ten years, but she had a feeling she was going to be just fine. She was strong, like her mom—it had simply taken her a while to figure that out.
thirty-four
TWENTY-FIVE YEARS in the army had given Mason a healthy respect for routine. If you did what needed doing, regardless of how you felt, the day generally went better. There had been mornings he hadn’t wanted to wake up at five, spend an hour on PT, or deal with whatever shitstorm was going to dominate his day, but he’d done it, and often the act of doing had improved his mood.
He’d put that theory to the test over the past few weeks. Since Robyn had left, he’d been forced to create a different kind of routine. He got up around six, went running, came back and started his day. He fed the cats, focused on his book every morning, and spent afternoons working in the house or out in the garden.