I opened my eyes on Sheep Meadow, just as a red flat object came spinning toward my face at lightning speed. I slapped my hands together around the Frisbee before it could slice my face in two.
“Heads-up,” Summer said, deadpan.
She stood above a blanket, and I glared at her, throwing the Frisbee back with too much force. It soared over Summer’s straight long bob, landing in the hands of a woman standing a few yards behind Summer. The mystery woman was my age, maybe a little younger, twirling in the breeze, not even bothering to see where the Frisbee had come from. She wasn’t one to question why something fell into her hands—life just did, and you knew it by looking at her, the way the harsh sun bathed her face gently, like a soft light box on a beaming smile. Effortless. Her blond hair was perfectly pinned up to the side, her lips were a matte red, her long legs stood tall in a white linen dress. I swallowed hard as Garrett came into view, his bare torso folding around this mystery woman, swinging her giggling frame into a dipping kiss that made her chin go all the way to the sky.
Over the years, I’d watched Garrett enjoy the company of a handful of other women, but I had never seen him do it so…freely. So openly. They shared a look you could recognize almost anywhere. I had never seen Garrett Scholl in love. Scratch that. I had never seen Garrett Scholl in love with anyone who wasn’t me. It was like a chain saw running down my heart. I pressed my hand to my chest, trying to mend the hot, sharp pain. They held each other’s gazes for a moment, and then Garrett kissed her neck and she danced herself out of his hold.
“Earth to Maggie Vine.”
I broke one-way eye contact with heartache, meeting Summer’s hand waving in my face.
“Are you going to come sit with us, or do you need more time to stand here like a weirdo?”
Yards in front of Summer, I saw Valeria sitting on a blanket, eyes down on her phone. Summer and Valeria had been married for a few years now, and I was trying to warm up to her since my best friend loved her madly. Call me selfish, but while I loved that Summer had found her person, I wished it could be with someone who more than tolerated my presence. I got the sense Valeria was always concentrating on something else when I was around—like I was a person worthy of flicking your eyes at every now and then. I think she understood that Summer and I had our own language, and instead of trying to join in, it was easier to disengage.
I looked back at Garrett, who threw the Frisbee straight into the mystery woman’s arms.
“Who is that?” I asked, eyes on the woman.
“Cecily,” Summer said.
“How long’s that been going on?”
“Four months,” Summer said, confusion on her face as she watched me.
“How’d the showing go yesterday?” Summer asked.
A month after my thirtieth birthday, I’d quit performing altogether. I was stifled every time I got onstage—terrified that I would see Cole’s face in the audience. After bailing on three gigs in a row—bathed in panic attacks behind stage curtains, I threw in the towel. There was no fighting this kind of monster—he stood too tall on my chest, and I didn’t know where to start, or how to pick up a sword against a powerful man who had touched me against my will and threatened my career. It was easier to lock everything up and throw away the key. The music died. I took the real estate license exam, made my mother’s dreams come true, joined her firm, and started making money. Real money. I was phenomenal at selling beautiful places. My soul died, too. I could barely look at myself in the mirror as I got dressed in the morning, I didn’t want Maggie Vine seeing what she’d become.
“The three-three in Gramercy?” I asked, referring to my biggest listing yet.
“Yes…”
“I got an offer. All cash,” I said flatly, my eyes on Cecily and Garrett.
“Shut up!” Summer said, beaming at me.
Cecily’s fingers running up the lines on Garrett’s stomach. His hand wrapping around her waist.
“Maggie.”
Summer’s voice was forceful, and I tore my eyes off Garrett as she stared at me.
“You just made your biggest sale.”
“And?” I said, emotionless with a tiny shrug, my eyes leaving hers.
Garrett tugging Cecily’s body tight against his. Their lips brushing. Matching cackles. Sun on both their smiles.
“And?” I heard Summer say, mocking my indifference.
It was strange, what was happening inside me as I watched Garrett dance his body around a woman, the way he’d danced his body around mine. I brought my attention back to Summer. Her eyes widened, taking in my face, which had darkened to something angry. I felt spite, the spite I housed for myself, come barreling out my throat, burning my tongue on its way out.
“I don’t give a shit about anything,” I said, the words caked in venom.
Or, I think I said that.
That’s what I meant to say.
I’m not sure what came out of my mouth, because all of a sudden, every emotion I had buried for the last year and a half after Cole Wyan ended my career, after I couldn’t get onstage again without having a panic attack, after I quit picking up my guitar, after I stopped writing music, after I took the real estate exam, after I made my mom’s dreams come true, after I had a hard time being in the same room as the guy I loved—all of a sudden, something white hot was strangling my throat. I felt my shaking hands go to my neck, but Summer’s arms were already around me, leading me under a cool patch of shade—a tree out of sight.
I couldn’t catch my breath, and the splintering inside me turned to a heaviness, as tears rained down my throat. At first, the words came out in a jumble of sobs, between gasps for air. I knew Summer couldn’t understand me at all. As I caught my breath, she made me repeat it to her, slower. My horrible truth escaped my throat like a prisoner set free, one who was terrified to step out into freedom. One who was innocent. One who didn’t know how to look at the world after being locked in a cell for so long. I was coming apart enough for us both—and so, Summer quieted her quivering chin, remaining as steady as that Bob Seger song—my rock.
I finished telling her everything. From Cole Wyan, to how I pushed Garrett away, to how I hadn’t been hungry for much of anything in over a year—food, sex, music, happiness. How like a light switch, my soul went gray, and I didn’t know how to find the sunshine anymore, nor did I think I was deserving of it.
Summer sat with it for a while, wiping away my tears and inhaling the wind.
“So, here’s what we’re going to do,” Summer finally said, her hands on my arms.
“First, you’ve got a fancy job, and it has fancy health insurance, so we’re going to find you a fancy therapist. And if I have to walk you to an appointment every week, I will. But you’re going to get some help.”
I nodded, tears streaming down, realizing that my insides weren’t on fire. Somehow, the freedom—the ability to exist with a brutal truth living outside my lungs—was as terrifying as I could have imagined, but I could inhale without smoke. I was no longer suffocating.
“Second, and this is going to take a while, but Maggie Vine, we’re going to get your career back to where it’s supposed to be.”