Hitched (32 page)

“You did?”

“Yeah. I was thinking how nice it would be to have a friend to talk to about everything that was going on with the damned wedding, and Josh, and Gavin, and my family.”

Devon sniffed a little as she smiled. “I know what you mean.”

They hadn’t been friends for a long time. They hadn’t had a heart-to-heart in forever. But suddenly Allie wanted Devon with her—if Devon agreed.

“So, there’s something I was thinking I needed to do. I could use a friend. Want to come?”

Devon nodded quickly. “Yes.”

“Okay. I just need to grab something,” Allie said, thinking through her spontaneous plan quickly. “Will you get the tequila out of the cupboard above the fridge?”

Devon’s eyes got a little wide, but she agreed and Allie headed for the stairs.

She threw blankets and sweaters off of the cardboard box in the corner of her closet. It was full of stuff from her college dorm room that she’d decided wasn’t quite appropriate for her “grown up” apartment. In that box was proof that there had been a few fun times that she
had
initiated. It had been her freshman year of college, her first time away from home for extended periods, the first—and only—time that she’d been out from under the roof where all her responsibilities and her mother’s expectations collected. It had felt free and, yes, for a few months, she’d been fun.

Halfway through photos and things like Mardi Gras beads from a campus party, a green tank that said
I’m Not Irish But Kiss Me Anyway
, a plastic luau lei, a couple of champagne corks from New Year’s Eve and other mementos, she found the shot glasses.

She met Devon back in the kitchen a minute later. “Okay, let’s go.”

Chapter Eleven

To her credit, Devon just got in the car without argument or question. In fact, neither said a word as Allie drove. Even when they pulled up at the cemetery, Devon didn’t balk. She accompanied Allie to her mother’s grave, clutching the bottle of tequila tightly against her stomach.

Allie stopped in front of her mom’s headstone and finally took a deep breath.

She’d visited every week since the funeral. She’d been there the day before her wedding.

It still felt like it had been a long time.

She pulled in another breath.

Probably because things had changed so much since she’d last been here.

“Okay, I’m gonna need a shot,” Allie said.

Devon thrust the bottle toward her.

“Hang on.” Allie dug the shot glasses from her purse and handed one to Devon. “Remember these?”

Devon took the glass and looked at it, then lifted her gaze to Allie’s. “Are these from the Cinderella night?”

Allie grinned. “Yep.” They were the souvenirs from a masquerade party hosted by a sorority on Allie’s campus on one of the weekends when Devon had been visiting. They had easily snuck in and mingled without anyone knowing that they didn’t belong. They’d danced, drunk champagne, and both had been kissed on the veranda. Since they couldn’t take the frat guys with them, Allie had swiped the shot glasses off of a table on their way out.

Devon finally relaxed and smiled too. “I can’t believe you still have them.”

“We had some good times, huh?” Allie poured tequila into Devon’s glass, then her own.

“We had a ton of good times,” Devon said.

Allie had to swallow hard before she raised her glass. “Here’s to having good people to have good times with.”

Devon looked like she was blinking back tears, but she clinked her glass against Allie’s and they tipped the liquor back simultaneously.

Allie felt the fire burn down her throat and shook her head, then focused on her mom’s name carved into the stone.

“Do you think my mom ever had any fun?” she asked without looking at Devon.

“Um…I’m sure she did.”

Allie nodded. “Probably. Maybe before Dad’s accident.”

She really mostly remembered her mom working hard and being insanely busy. She remembered Lily smiling and laughing, but she didn’t remember her parents ever sitting on the couch just watching a movie together, or dancing together in the living room, or making out in the kitchen. She also knew her mom hadn’t had any girls’ nights out, or even a girlfriend over for margaritas and manicures.

“Your mom was a great lady,” Devon said quietly.

Allie nodded. “Definitely.” She poured another shot for each of them. Then she lifted hers toward her mom’s headstone. “I love you, Mom. You did a lot of great things. And in a lot of ways I want to be like you. But you weren’t perfect, and I don’t want to do things exactly the way you did.”

Devon said nothing—she just drank. Allie couldn’t blame her.

Allie poured again. “My mom wanted to take care of everyone, but she took
too much
care of them. My brothers don’t know how to make things happen for themselves, my dad needs someone to make him scrambled eggs—
eggs
, Devon, the easiest thing in the world to make—and no one in this town knows how to organize a fundraiser. Because Mom always did all of it. And she almost
needed
to. I think that maybe it was more about her than the people she was helping, you know?”

“Maybe,” Devon said quietly. “Being important to people could be hard to give up.”

Allie nodded. “I wish I knew for sure that she’d had some fun.”

She felt Devon’s arm wrap around her waist and give her a half hug. “I’m sure she had fun, sweetie.”

Allie’s eyes filled. “Maybe. I hope so. But I’m not sure she ever realized that fun isn’t really like chocolate frosting.”

She
had just realized it. Getting back into her real world had made her realize that if she was going to have some silly times and enjoy things,
she
was now going to have to make it happen. It was easy to let the not-perfect things get to her and it was easy to focus on the negative. Being happy, appreciating her life, was on her. No one else was in charge of making those things happen.

“Chocolate frosting?” Devon asked, pulling away slightly to look into Allie’s face. “What’s that mean?”

“I’ve realized that having fun with people you love isn’t an indulgence—like chocolate frosting—it’s a necessity. Like broccoli. Not sure Mom ever got that.”

Devon took the tequila bottle and filled their glasses again. “It’s never too late. She’s here with us, so let’s show her how it’s done.”

They toasted and drank again and then Devon kicked off her shoes and headed for Allie’s car. She started the engine and rolled down the windows, then cranked the radio.

For the next thirty minutes, they danced and sang and drank tequila.

Too much tequila.

Eventually they found themselves lying in the grass behind Lily’s headstone, holding their sides from laughing.

“My head is spinning,” Devon groaned.

“Yeah, fucking tequila,” Allie agreed.

Never would she have imagined saying the word “fucking” at her mother’s grave site. Still, she kind of wished she and her mom had maybe drunk too much tequila together just once.

They’d been mother and daughter. Partners in taking care of everyone around them. Mentor and student, to some extent. But they’d never been friends.

Allie rolled her head to the side to look at Devon. She let the dizziness pass, then said, “Want to talk about boys?”

Devon looked over and grinned. “Sure.”

“I’m madly in love with Gavin.”

“I’m madly in love with Josh.”

They both smiled stupidly for a moment, not sure what else to say. “We’re gonna have to practice this,” Allie said. “We need to be able to give better details than that.”

“Details like sex?” Devon asked.

“Right. Definitely.” She supposed. “Hell, I don’t know. You were my last really good girlfriend and it’s been awhile.”

Devon reached over and touched Allie’s arm. “We can get back there, right?”

“Yeah.” She was sure they could. Why not? There was nothing keeping them apart now. “But we need to go to the bar and just hang out and listen to other girls talk so we know how to do this. They talk about sex, don’t they?”

Devon laughed. “I’m sure it depends on the girls.”

“Well, if you’re worried that it will be awkward talking about sex with Josh…” Allie thought about that. “Okay, it might be. At first. But we’ll work it out. Maybe we can refer to him as Ryan Reynolds and that will help.”

Devon snorted again. “It won’t hurt. And we’ll call Gavin Ryan Gosling.”

“Awesome,” Allie agreed. “Ryans all around.”

They laughed, then lay there staring up at the blue sky. Finally, Allie rolled and pushed herself up to sitting, instantly regretting it. “Oh, boy, we shouldn’t have made that last toast to Jimmy Buffet.”

“Yeah.” Devon also made her way into a sitting position. And groaned. “But you can’t really drink and sing
without
Jimmy Buffet, you know?”

“Good point.”

“Maybe we should’ve stopped toasting back when we were talking about my shoes.”

Allie looked at Devon’s shoes. “No, those are awesome. Toast-worthy. And I
know
girlfriends talk about shoes.”

She carefully pushed herself to standing. “But speaking of drinking and sex and singing…I want to call Gavin.”

Devon struggled to her feet as well. “He came back with you, right?”

Allie felt the pain of that jab her in the center of her chest and spread. “Yeah. But…”

Was he really going to stay? Was this just a visit, an attempt to show her what he was willing to do for her? But what about when things settled down again—as much as they ever did? He had a life in Alaska.

“But?” Devon asked.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Devon gave her a small smile before she stepped forward and hugged her. “I know that not knowing and not being in control are hard for you, but I think it’s a good thing.”

“Yeah?” Allie sniffed. “How?” She pulled back and wiped the tears.

“You’re willing to try it with him anyway. You’re outside your comfort zone for him. That’s good.”

Allie stared at her. She sure was. Gavin was outside his comfort zone for her too and it
was
good. “Do you think that just being there for someone can be enough? Like, not really doing anything or fixing anything but just being there?” she asked, thinking about Lydia’s words when Allie had felt so helpless to do something for Gavin.

Devon looked around the cemetery, “Well, what exactly am
I
doing right now except being here?”

Allie thought about that, then nodded slowly. “Okay. You’re good.”

Devon laughed. Then nudged Allie’s arm, “You could call him. Just tell him you need him.”

She wanted to. She
really
wanted to.

She reached into her pocket for her phone and realized she didn’t have it.

“Phone’s in the car.” She took a step forward and the ground wobbled. “Oh, boy.” She grabbed Devon’s arm. “I could not pass a sobriety test right now.”

Devon laughed. “That’s because you’re not sober.”

“Neither are you.”

Devon grabbed Allie’s arm as she tried to head for the car.

“In our defense, there’s a slight incline here.”

“Yep, I’m sure that’s the problem.”

They looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“’Kay, let’s try that again,” Allie said, still chuckling.

Holding on to one another they proceeded carefully down the—albeit
very
slight—hill toward the car.

Devon’s phone was ringing as they opened the door. She grabbed it from her purse. “Hi, Josh.”

Allie froze. How was Josh going to feel about her and Devon renewing their friendship? More, how was he going to feel about the Allie getting Devon drunk in the graveyard within an hour of that renewal?

“I’m fine,” Devon said, too loudly. “Just fine.”

Her eyes widened as she listened to Josh. Then she covered the mouthpiece with her hand and asked in a whisper—a loud whisper—“Am I slurring my words?”

She definitely slurred the word
slurred
.

“Yes. Pull it together,” Allie told her, pointing at her nose. “I don’t need him mad at me for something new.”

Devon frowned and asked Josh, “You’re not mad at Allie, are you?”

She listened, then smiled.

“He’s not mad at you,” she told Allie. Then she frowned again and said into the phone, “Yes, I’m with Allie.” She paused. “At the cemetery.”

Allie groaned. Josh was so coming to the cemetery. She knew him. He’d be concerned. He’d be here to check on them.

And there was no way they could hide that they were drunk.

Allie only half listened to Devon try to assure Josh they were both fine. It wouldn’t matter. He was still coming.

It wasn’t a horrible idea, of course. They could use a ride. Neither of them should be driving.

Devon hung up a moment later and Allie leaned back against the car.

“He’s on his way,” Devon said, leaning next to her.