A Brush with Love(90)
Lizzie popped two forks into her mouth, then scooped up the cake tray and took a step toward the living room.
“Lizzie,” Harper said, reaching out and putting a hand on her friend’s elbow.
Lizzie raised her eyebrows.
“Thank you,” Harper said, meaning it more than her friend could know.
Lizzie smiled against the forks and leaned in, pressing their foreheads together before leaving the kitchen.
Harper stared at the paper on the counter, Lizzie’s words humming through her. Without leaving enough time to talk herself out of it, she snatched it up, pulled out her phone, and dialed the number.
CHAPTER 38
HARPER
MAY
Slowly, life started to feel a little better for Harper. While months of compounded pain and longing still held permanent residence in her heart, the hurt turned a little duller with the combination of Prozac and sunshine.
By the time graduation rolled around at the end of May, Harper truly believed she’d be okay. Therapy was helping her find a balance of medications and mental exercises to get her to a better place. She was slowly shedding the layers of shame and grief and internalized ableism that held her captive. It wasn’t easy. It took backbreaking work to rewrite the narrative of her mind, to learn to be gentle with herself. But if Harper was anything, she was a hard worker.
Gradually, she was learning to let go of her mother, realizing that freeing herself from the pain of it allowed her to feel closer to her memory than ever before. Which is why, on the morning of her graduation, as she sipped coffee and scratched Judy’s head, thinking about everything that had happened, every step that had led to this milestone, she was able to smile, knowing her mom was with her.
The one person that wouldn’t be with her, though, was Dan. And she felt his absence like a phantom limb—she’d learned to function without it, but that didn’t mean she didn’t long for it.
“I miss him, Judy,” Harper whispered as she gently rubbed the cat’s chin. “So much. How can it still hurt this much?”
Judy blinked at Harper.
“I can’t call him,” Harper said, moving to stroke down Judy’s long body. “What would I even say? I was so awful … I pushed him too far to ever hope he’d forgive me.”
Judy nuzzled against Harper’s knee, purring lightly. “Oh, Judy, you dirty flatterer. You only think he would because you love me.” Harper placed a kiss on her cat’s giant head, then looked out the window with a sigh.
She no longer blamed Dan for trying to help her, trying to free her from the shame she kept herself shackled with, but she felt so much remorse for how she’d treated him, she didn’t think he’d want to hear from her.
And she still held on to a little bit of that hurt, a little bit of that feeling that he’d left her. That she was unwanted. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t let that sharp fragment of feeling go.
She pressed her forehead against the windowpane, her stomach sinking lower and lower, back into that gentle rhythm of sadness, when a knock sounded at the door.
In a swirl of giggles and hair spray, Thu, Indira, and Lizzie burst into her apartment, Lizzie’s arms overflowing with containers of cupcakes and bottles of champagne.
“What do you think of my new dress?” Lizzie asked, strutting across the tiny living room a few minutes later with a coffee mug of champagne held in one hand. Although Lizzie wasn’t a student, she’d been gushing with so much excitement for her friends that they all joked she should be getting an honorary degree.
“It’s so short, I can almost see your vagina,” Thu said, carefully swiping on her mascara in front of a pocket mirror.
“I know!” Lizzie beamed, doing a twirl. “Isn’t it perfect?”
Indira, whose commencement had been the week prior, let out a whooping laugh, spanking Lizzie on the butt as she passed by her to get more champagne.
Their smiles and love didn’t leave much room for Harper’s sadness after that.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur. Three curling iron burns, twelve mimosas, one broken dress strap, and two outbreaks of group tears later, they were headed to the school for the last time.
The ceremony was long and boring, the humid Philadelphia spring making it drag even more. But as Harper stood at the edge of the stage, waiting for her name to be called, she floated above the ground. She looked out at the audience and indulged the immense swell of pride at what she’d accomplished. The pride was tinged with the slightest bite of pain as she kept catching herself searching for the one face she knew wouldn’t be there.
At last, her name was announced, and she strode across the stage, doing what had so often felt impossible: becoming a doctor.
The afternoon was filled with endless pictures, congratulatory hugs, and a late lunch, ending with goodbyes and grumbles of traffic. When all the family members had finally left, Harper and her friends looked at each other, breaking out into huge grins as the real fun began.
The girls and Alex made their way to Center City, Thu having reserved a corner of a patio at a trendy spot. It was the ideal compromise: Harper had plenty of room to breathe and relax in the open air while her friends dipped in and out of the pulsing dance floor.
The night felt almost perfect. Little vignettes of joy and laughter filled the happy centers of Harper’s brain: All of them clinking glasses and cheering out a toast. Thu and Alex slow dancing. Lizzie making out with some hot stranger in the corner. Indira putting on bright red lipstick and marking each friend with a kiss.