“I’m not here for Silas, trust me,” Kasey said softly.
There was a knock on the bathroom door.
“Yeah?” Caro said.
“It’s Roses,” Rosemarie said. Kasey opened the door and wiped her eyes.
“Tell her. Tell her Silas is out there somewhere,” Caro said, stepping back to whip some toilet paper off the roll. They were so used to seeing one another cry Rosemarie didn’t even mention it. She just smiled at them.
“Oh, he’s out there, all right. Forever hot as shit. You haven’t seen him?” Rosemarie said, finishing the champagne in her flute. Caro honked her nose and wiped her face some more. Rosemarie touched the top of her head, then Kasey’s.
“Y’all, please! I haven’t seen Silas in fifteen years! And lemme check! Oh yeah, I’m still engaged,” Kasey said, holding up her hand.
“You wouldn’t be this mad if you didn’t care. Look at you—you’re sweating!” Caro said, moving Kasey to the mirror.
“What do you expect? It’s hot in here! Damn!” Kasey said, fanning herself.
“Look, girl, we’re only telling you the facts. The facts are: he’s out there,” Rosemarie said. She thumbed toward the window.
Trey was handling business at the distillery and said maybe if he had time, he’d swing by the Plums’ later. Caro didn’t care either way. Not anymore. The bourbon slipped itself around her like a jacket with a hood, and she could feel it working, blocking out some of the bad. She put the empty flask back in her bag, which she’d left in Ada’s old bedroom, and met Kasey—leaning against the wall, texting—in the hallway again.
“Show me another picture of Devon,” Caro said to her. “Are you texting him about Silas?”
“Caro, you’re—”
“I’m what? Go ahead—tell me.” She smirked and put her hand on Kasey’s cheek. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe I’m looking at your face.”
“You’re so beautiful. Honestly, I don’t want to fight. I really mean it when I say I’m sorry. I—”
“Show me another picture of Devon, please,” Caro said again.
In high school, Silas used to call Kasey “Dandelion,” but to Caro right then, Kasey looked like a brown-haired daisy in her white dress. Her mom was white and her dad was black, and both those things came together perfectly in Kasey’s features. She had a heart-shaped face, the cutest nose, pink lips. A delicate dimple in her chin like a fingerprint press in soft dough. Kasey was the oldest of them but looked the youngest; she was mistaken for a freshman all throughout high school.
Kasey pulled up a picture of Devon that Caro hadn’t seen and handed her the phone. Devon Allbright, sitting up on his elbows in the grass in Bryant Park, wearing a pair of Wayfarer sunglasses. He was ultra-preppy in a white T-shirt and navy shorts rolled once, summer-brown skin, hair combed back. Caro told Kasey that the photo was literally “Boys of Summer” by Don Henley come to life. RACK knew every word of that song by heart. They used to screamsing it in high school, driving the country roads in Ada’s convertible. Now Caro—buzzed as a fat, pollen-drunk bee—sang part of the chorus to Kasey with their faces so close.
“I know, right? I’ve probably told him that before. He thinks I’m crazy for it, I’m sure,” Kasey said.
“Why didn’t he come? Why don’t we get to meet him?”
“You will—I promise. He’s busy. He’s a workaholic.”
“Environmental law for the PineLight Project,” Caro said, proud of herself for remembering exactly whom Devon worked for, even in her tipsy state.
“Right. And I don’t know if I’m ready for Devon in Goldie, honestly. Being here alone is overwhelming enough.” Kasey took her phone back and they both waved at a short line of girls in swishy pink dresses slinking past.
“You’re not alone! You have us, whether you want us or not,” Caro said.
“I want y’all. Of course I want y’all,” Kasey said, sounding like she might cry again. Caro held her hand.
One of Ada’s twin brothers walked by with Ada’s youngest thrown over his shoulder.
“Hi, Auntie Caro!” her little boy said.
“Hi, boys,” Caro said. Kasey smiled at them. It’d only been about an hour since Kasey had met Ada’s babies in person. The girls regularly shared pictures of their lives with one another, but this morning was the first time Kasey had ever seen Ada’s boys in the flesh. Caro felt those all-mixed-up flickers of frustration and abandonment, anger and sadness. Those leftover feelings that crept up whenever she thought about Kasey leaving without a real goodbye, days after their high school graduation.
“I’m still mad at you, though,” Caro said once they’d passed.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”
“Stop keeping secrets and stop keeping everything bottled up. You know we’re here for you and we’ll do anything for each other! Talk to us!” Caro said, dodging the hypocrisy of her own words. She’d been feeling like a shook-up bottle of pop lately—violently bubbling with the cap on, waiting to explode. She thought for sure Kasey would have been able to sniff it out, but if she had, she didn’t let it show. They put their arms around each other and hugged tight.
*
still @ work
Trey never texted with sweetness anymore. He rarely used any punctuation. When they were dating, he’d tried harder and given Caro no reason to think he’d stop trying, but the sweetness had faded away like the end of a song.
He sent two more not long after the first one.
Busy
not gonna make it
Caro felt relief, cool on the back of her neck, when she read those texts. She didn’t respond. She left her phone in her bag upstairs and was glad to be outside now with her girlfriends and more cupcakes. She grabbed a full flute, deciding to quit the bourbon and switch to something non-Foxberry: champagne.
“Come here. Quick!” Rosemarie said to her. Caro had always been wild with love for Roses, RACK’s heartbeat. Rosemarie also left Goldie after high school and traveled the world like Carmen Sandiego, but she returned as often as she could. Most of the time her visits were a surprise, and Caro loved to find herself at the end of a long shift at the bakery—flour snowing her hair as she boxed up the hundredth birthday cake, the millionth cupcake—and suddenly see Rosemarie’s pretty brown eyes in front of her.
When Caroline walked to her, Rosemarie subtly signaled to the right, then did it again.
“What?” Caro asked, confused.
“Well, lookee there who Miss Kasey found,” Rosemarie said, nudging her.
Caro leaned over to see Kasey talking to Silas Castelow. He was behind the portable bar shaking a drink and smiling so much Caro thought maybe his face would split open like hot fruit. Silas loved women and women loved Silas, but Silas had really loved him some Kasey Fritz since they were teenagers, and everyone in Goldie knew it. The girls watched Kasey giggle with her whole body at something he was saying.
“I knew he wouldn’t be mad at her. He never could stay mad at her. He’s probably as crazy about her now as he was back then. Do you think this will be a problem?” Caro asked, taking a sip of champagne, which felt like water after all that bourbon. She put her flute down and got a pink cupcake off the table, removed the paper. She and Ada had spent two full days with their team at the bakery making those cupcakes.