99 Days(77)

“Day after tomorrow,” he says. “I didn’t get the MGH thing. Not that it matters, I guess.” He shrugs. “They say I can reapply for next spring.”

I think of the fantasies I had earlier this summer, the two of us piggybacking through the New England leaves. I’ll miss him, I realize, something like homesickness setting up residence behind my rib cage. “I think you should,” I tell him. “Reapply, I mean.”

Gabe raises his eyebrows, a flicker of interest passing across his handsome face. “You do, huh?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I do.”

Gabe nods slightly like maybe he’ll think about it. Slides off the hood of the car. “Be seeing you, Molly Barlow,” he says softly. Kisses me on the cheek before he goes.





Day 98


The next day is my last shift at the Lodge, everything wrapping up for the season and a walk through the grounds with my replacement, a community college bro named Hal. Penn and the kids get me a memo book as a going-away gift, already filled with half-sensical Penn-flavored notes-to-self like, Watch out for dining-hall meat products and Floss your brain.

“I love you,” I tell her, standing on my tiptoes to squeeze her tight and not realizing how true it is until the words are out of my mouth. The thought of leaving the Lodge makes my chest feel tight, like the band of my bra’s a size too small.

“Love you back, Molly,” Penn promises quietly. She gets both hands on my face and plants a kiss there. “Go do good.”

I smooch Fabian good-bye and turn to Desi, who’s standing in the corner with one thumb shoved thoughtfully in her mouth, watching me with those big dark eyes.

“What do you say, Des?” I ask her, squatting down on the carpet so we’re at eye level. “You wanna tell me bye?”

Desi looks at me solemnly and for one heart-stopping moment I think we’re about to get there, that she’ll finally open her mouth after months and months of silence. I hold my breath and wait for it. She kisses me once and wordlessly on the end of my nose.

*

I’m in my car on the way out of the parking lot before I realize I forgot my last check in the office, and I let out a quiet swear under my breath. I managed to make it all the way to the end of my shift without running into anyone who hates me. The last thing I need is one more screw you for the road.

Instead of driving all the way back around to the employee door, I pull up in front of the main entrance and leave my hazards on—I’ll grab my check and get out of here ASAP, I promise myself, sweaty palms slipping on the brass handle of the Lodge door. After that, I’ll be gone for good.

Shit.

Julia and Elizabeth are all hanging out around the fireplace in the lobby, ankles crossed and fountain sodas sweating in their hands. Penn doesn’t like us to park ourselves here, she says it’s off-putting to guests, but Penn’s long gone for the day and here they both are, folded into the same club chairs Tess, Imogen, and I went to check out a couple of weeks ago. It feels like a lot longer than that. As soon as they spot me they fall completely, abruptly silent, like a record coming to a screeching halt in some old movie.

“I’m just getting my check,” I tell them, hands up in surrender, feeling my face flush—none of that piss-off, don’t-mess-with-me vinegar I felt coursing through my veins the other night at the party. “You don’t—I’ll be out of here in a second.”


“Thank f*ck,” Julia says, in a voice exactly loud enough for me to hear her. So much for laying the smackdown, I guess. I think of what Roisin said on the phone the other night, It’s easy to forget that your hometown isn’t the entire universe. I wish there were a way to convince myself that’s true.

I slip into the office and fish my check out of my mailbox, which is already retagged with a label reading HAL. It’s crazy how fast things can change. I stuff it in my pocket and head for the doorway—

And that’s when I see Tess.

She’s standing in the hallway waiting, smooth braid and Barnard T-shirt, looking a thousand times more pulled together than she did the other day by the pool. “Hi!” I blurt, some weird muscle memory, that feeling of my friend is here. Then I blush some more. “I mean. Hi.”

Tess doesn’t smile. “I broke up with Patrick,” she tells me flatly, crossing her arms across her chest. “For good this time.”

“You did?” I echo her posture without totally meaning to, then drop my arms to my sides. I think of how guiltily my heart leaped when I heard that news the last time. All I can call up now is numbness and exhaustion. “I’m really sorry.”

Tess shakes her head. “No,” she says, sounding a little impatient. “That’s not why I’m telling you. I just—” She breaks off for a moment. “You and me are never going to be friends again, Molly, okay? We’re not. But I just wanted to tell you, I guess, that you were right. What you said at the party. That you’re not the only one who screwed up, and it sucked for us all to act like you were.” She raises her eyebrows. “Me included.”

For a moment, I just gape at her, uncomprehending. It sounds like something Imogen would say. It probably was something Imogen told her, as a matter of fact, but wherever it came from, hearing it feels like being hit with a wrecking ball, like my heart actually breaking in half. I didn’t always deserve them, friends like Tess and Imogen. From now on I’m going to make sure I do.