so. I’m not encouraged when she sighs and takes off her sunglasses.
“Oh gosh. You are breaking up with me?” My voice is high pitched and panicky.
She gives me a tense smile that does nothing to ease my anxiety. “No way, you’re stuck with me forever.” She pauses, and I can feel the giant but coming. “But…you’ll just be stuck with me from afar from now on.”
What! She really is breaking up with me! Oh gosh, does this mean I have to box up all the stuff she’s given me (I’ve stolen) and return it? She’ll have to pry that green jumper from my cold dead hands, though.
“Stacy, you’re freaking me out. What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry. I thought about telling you sooner, but I decided that a long, drawn-out goodbye would be too hard. Ripping off the Band-Aid is better for both of us.”
“I will shake you, woman, if you don’t tell me why the heck you’re ripping Band-Aids off me.”
Stacy’s face crumples as she rushes to me and wraps her arms around my shoulders so forcefully that I make an involuntary oof sound. We’re holding on to each other for dear life when the truth spills out of her. It’s all blubbering nonsense, but since we’ve been friends for so long, I understand every word.
“Logan got a job in California. It’s his dream position at a great hospital, working under the best thoracic surgeon in his field. We talked about it for so long, and he told me he didn’t want to take me from my dream job, but then I realized... I don’t think this bakery ever has been my dream. It’s yours, and I love you so much that I’ve just wanted to help you bring it to life. But now that that’s done, you don’t need me here anymore. So, I told him to take the job. We’re moving after the wedding.”
“After the wedding!” I say, but it comes out like one long whine. “So soon.”
“I know. I’m so sorry, June. I don’t want to leave you, but it’s going to be really good for Logan and me. Doyouhateme?!” Her words are nearly indiscernible at this point.
Mine are no better. “AreyoukiddingofcourseIcouldneverhateyou!!”
I tell her I want the best for her, and we hold on to each other and continue to cry like that for another few minutes. I’m just grateful that no one has come into the shop during this soap opera. Here, try our newest donut: French vanilla with a hint of ‘my best friend is leaving forever’ tears.
Finally, we peel off of each other and wipe our faces with the backs of our hands. Sniffles are our only words for another minute before I ask, “So, what about the shop?” I look around like it’s our child and I’m trying to decide if I want to let Stacy have it every weekend or just on holidays.
When she doesn’t answer right away, I look back up at her. Her face crumples again, but I give her a look that says keep it together, woman. She takes a deep breath, and when her tears are under control again, she says, “I’m going to sell my half. I’ll be useless trying to help run the company from California, and it’ll be nice to put that money toward buying a house.”
It’s official. This day sucks. First, I wake up swaddled in Mr. Darcy’s suit jacket with the sinking realization that I’ll have to see him all week, and now this? I want to go back to bed so I can wake up again and realize it was all some terrible boozy nightmare.
“But who are you going to sell it to? No one will be as good a partner as you are.”
“I’ve had several offers, but I haven’t chosen anyone yet because I was thinking you should buy my half and become a full owner.”
“Full owner?” The words settle on my tongue like battery acid. Every decision would fall to me alone. Every failure. Every missed opportunity. Me. All me. Alone. “Nah, too much of a headache. I don’t want to bury myself in the upkeep of this place.” I try to sound nonchalant and even pick at my fingernail while I say it so Stacy isn’t tipped off to the panic welling inside me.
“What are you talking about? You’re practically running it yourself already. You’re the idea woman; I just smile and nod and stand here as eye candy for the clients.”
Not true. I mean, yes, the eye candy part