The Bloom Girls

by Amy Pine

  “And a staff meeting consists of being your own barista and engaging in workplace table tennis?”

  Miriam rolled her eyes. “Not that I have to defend the way we do things around here, but there is also a conference table on the other side of the game tables.”

  Gabi laughed. “Noted.”

  She stared at her friend for a long moment, from the smart pen tucked behind her ear to the tablet held against her chest to the confident smile spread across her face, and for a second she was overcome.

  “What?” Miriam asked. “Do I have something on my face?”

  Gabi shook her head and sighed. “I’m just so proud of you. I know how hard you worked for this, and it warms my big ol’ heart to see you in your element.”

  Gabi might have been the only person who truly knew about her best friend’s gooey center, and right now it showed.

  Miriam’s cheeks turned pink. “Stop it, Bloom. Public sentiment is a no-go, so don’t you dare pull the mushy stuff on me before I have to pitch my team’s idea to our account lead.”

  Gabi laughed. “Okay. Fine. I take it back. Who’d you have to shtup to get this sweet gig?”

  Miriam let out a one-note belly laugh and then blew out a relieved breath. “Thanks. That’s more like it.” Then she leaned in and whispered in Gabi’s ear, “And the answer is no one as far as getting me the job, but now that I’m here, I might be shtupping Dylan, our account lead.” She straightened and waggled her brows.

  Gabi’s eyes widened. She glanced over the top of the cubicle to see if anyone was listening, but the two surrounding office spaces were already empty.

  “Gotta go,” Miriam added. “So get to work, and we’ll see where you are in a couple of hours.”

  “Wait!” Gabi whisper-shouted. “Which one is Dylan? Is Dylan a guy or a girl? I mean, what’s his or her or their preferred pronoun?”

  Miriam waved and spun on her heel, heading toward the circular café and up toward the conference room.

  Gabi shook her head and laughed. Then she pulled out Miriam’s chair and slid into the comfortable, ergonomic design. She blew out a breath and surveyed the sparse contents of her friend’s desk.

  A small stack of colored file folders sat neatly to her left, a high-tech, confusing-looking landline phone to her right, and in front of her a sleek, oversized monitor for Miriam’s desktop computer.

  Gabi slid the monitor back to make room for her own laptop, inadvertently waking her friend’s lock screen. And there it was—Miriam’s ooey-gooey center right there for all to see, if, of course, one were to violate her privacy and mess with her desktop while Miriam wasn’t at her desk.

  Gabi’s breath caught in her throat as the collage of photos came to life—photos of Gabi and Miriam doing everything from spatula karaoke in Gabi’s kitchen to their high school graduation photo to the selfie they’d taken in the tree house at Gigi and Gramps’s the night before Gabi left for Europe. All were photos Gabi took, either by placing her camera on a tripod and setting the timer or by holding it with her arm outstretched, lens pointed at their faces like a smartphone.

  Miriam’s brand was right there on the screen, all captured by Gabi’s hand—a strong, take-no-shit exterior protecting a loving, affectionate center.

  It both warmed Gabi’s heart and made her feel like she’d been socked in the gut.

  Miriam knew exactly who she was and what she wanted the world to see.

  Gabi built her whole life around one central idea—stability. She never felt like her life had been lacking, and she’d meant what she’d said to her dad when he caught her at the mall. She was envious of the life he’d led. Maybe he hadn’t been around all the time, but that had been the norm for as long as Gabi could remember. The one who remembered a time before was her mom.

  Gabi closed her eyes and blew out a breath, recalling the first time her mom introduced her to the movie Roman Holiday. She’d been twelve and had come home early from a Halloween sleepover party because the rest of the girls wanted to have a horror movie marathon, and Gabi had lost her nerve the first fifteen minutes into Scream. No, thank you. I take my Drew Barrymore movies with less stabbing.

  “I’m sorry if I ruined your night, Mom,” she’d said when Alissa had picked her up dressed in a sweater, a fitted denim skirt, and the knee-high boots Gabi coveted but was still too young to wear. “You were out, weren’t you?” she’d added guiltily. She’d always known her mother dated here and there, but her mom had never really flaunted it.

  Alissa squeezed Gabi’s knee. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than with my girl. You know that.”

  Gabi sighed, letting her head fall against her seatback. “I’m never answering the phone again in case there’s a killer in the house. If they can’t taunt the victim over the phone, they give up, right?”

  Her mom laughed. “I think I have the remedy for that if you are up for your first romcom. Or we can go with the old standby and do something Disney—always a formidable adversary to horror.”

  For as long as Gabi could remember, she and her mom—and often Miriam too—had popped in a favorite Disney DVD on Sunday nights. And while she could be down with grabbing a spatula and singing along with Amy Adams in Enchanted—again—it was Friday, not Sunday. So why not try something new?

  She and her mom sat on the couch, each snuggled under their respective throws, a bag of white cheddar popcorn between them. At first Gabi wrinkled her nose when she realized the movie was in black and white, but the second Audrey Hepburn’s Princess Ann showed up on the screen, Gabi was entranced. And Gregory Peck? Swoon.

  Gabi sat there, rapt, for the entire two hours. But when the screen faded to black, she turned toward her mom with tears streaming down her face.

  “How can you call that a romcom?”

  Her mom swiped away a tear or two of her own. “Because there’s comedy and romance. And who doesn’t love a royal in disguise?”

  Gabi reached inside the almost empty bag of popcorn and chucked a piece at her mom—lovingly, of course. “But they don’t end up together. It’s not a happy ending. I thought romcoms had endings where the couple is in love and they live happily ever after. This…They…I mean, he loves her and she loves him, but they have to live their lives separately? How could you do this to me?” She was sobbing.

  “Did you forget about Scream?” her mom asked.

  Gabi’s mouth fell open. “What? Scream? I don’t…”

  Her mom raised her brows. “You’re welcome,” she said, triumphant. “And okay, maybe it’s not your version of happily-ever-after. But here’s how I see it. Ann and Joe got to have a love that many spend their entire lifetimes searching for. They’ll always know the person they love is out there, even if they might not grow old together. To me, there’s comfort in that.”

  That was when Gabi knew that her parents’ story wasn’t so cut-and-dried. She’d come to terms with the fact that they’d never reconcile, but maybe it wasn’t because of lost love. Maybe it was simply that life had gotten in the way, which seemed more painful than falling out of love entirely.

  Even though the film remained one of her favorites—one she always watched with her mom—it also solidified in Gabi’s mind that never risking her heart for that kind of love was far safer than a possible lifetime of longing.

  That was why she’d planned on getting all of her whimsy out of her system in Europe. Her plan had simply taken a teeny, tiny detour.

  Ethan.

  Gabi slipped the thumb drive from the portrait studio into the USB port in her laptop, which she’d opened in front of Miriam’s desktop.

  “Are you sure it’s okay if I use some of these for my portfolio?” she’d asked Kelsey, and the young girl had shrugged.

  “I don’t care. You just can’t, like, resell them or anything.”

  Gabi opened the first folder on the device, one she’d labeled CANDIDS, and scrolled through the photos she’d taken in between the planned poses. For someone who wrote everything in her pla
nner—and then again in her digital calendar just in case—when it came to photos of people, she always enjoyed the stolen moments between the poses so much more.

  She glanced up at Miriam’s desktop again. Even when it came to selfies or self-portraits, Gabi always snapped several photos, hoping to capture not only the moment but the little blips in between. She studied the images again, realizing those were the ones Miriam had posted—the blips in between.

  In the karaoke photo, Gabi’s head was tipped back in laughter while Miriam seemed to be pouring her heart and soul into the lyrics. The one from graduation showed Gabi posing for the camera while Miriam stared mischievously at her best friend. What came after the click of the camera was Miriam flicking Gabi’s graduation cap off her head. The tree-house image was the anomaly. Both girls stood perfectly posed, gaze fixed on the camera in front of them. But as Gabi stared at the photo a bit longer, she saw the exhilaration in her wide-open eyes, the promise of possibility—and the glassy pools of tears about to leak from Miriam’s as she said goodbye to her best friend for the summer.

  Where was that promise of possibility now?

  With a trembling hand, Gabi minimized the thumb drive folder and opened the one on her own laptop simply labeled EUROPE. From Galway to Spain…from the south of France to the Czech Republic—photos abounded of everything from a couple kissing in front of the Fontana di Trevi, to two adorable old men playing chess outside a café in Paris, to Gabi and Ethan eating gelato on the Spanish Steps. It wasn’t the photo of them smiling into the lens that made her breath catch in her throat, though. It was the one where Ethan was looking at Gabi with his own world of possibility in his eyes while Gabi reached for his hand, her gaze directed toward something in the distance but with the same expression.

  “Oh my God,” she said to no one in particular, maximizing the portrait studio folder again. “I don’t want this.” The life she’d been planning. At least—not now. Not yet.

  She wouldn’t acknowledge it out loud, the longing that had unknowingly lived inside her for years. Saying it out loud would mean that she had been living a lie. Saying it out loud would mean possibly losing the man that she loved. Saying it out loud would mean she was more like her father than she’d ever been willing to admit.

  She found a stack of sticky notes in one of Miriam’s drawers and scribbled a quick message.

  Something came up. Had to run. SORRY. You’re a rockstar.

  #soproud. Call me later and tell me EVERYTHING about everything.

  Love you. Mwah.

  Then she slipped out of the building and onto LaSalle Street, which was eerily quiet until Gabi remembered that it was the weekend, and most of this area of the city was hibernating until Monday. She started walking toward the train station, which quickly turned into a jog and then a full-on run, the feat only possible because she was buoyed by adrenaline. Except she was a puddle of a human by the time she got there, thanks to the summer that would not quit.

  With a few minutes to spare before the next train, she ran into the bathroom to attempt to freshen up. But when she looked in the mirror—wisps of hair fallen from her ponytail stuck to her neck with sweat, her face as flushed as if she’d just run a 5k, and dark pit circles on her short-sleeved white button-down—she couldn’t help but laugh.

  Gabi looked exactly how she felt. A disastrous mess.

  She pulled her camera out of her bag and aimed it the girl in the mirror, one eye hidden behind the lens.

  Click.

  Only when she lowered the camera did the sapphire ring on her left hand catch her eye.

  She blew out a breath.

  It was more than a ring. It was a beautiful, thoughtful token from the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, but what the hell was the rest of her life?

  Maybe Gabi was all grown up—a woman soon to be a bride—but right now she just really needed her mom. Her mom would help her figure this out. Her mom would tell her what the right answer was.

  * * *

  Thanks to the air-conditioned train, Gabi had cooled off and dried off by the time she made it to her stop. And while she could have walked the half mile to the bakery, she thought better of it and pulled up her ride-share app, making sure to give the driver a generous tip for taking her on such a short ride that it was barely worth the fare.

  The familiar tinkle of Take the Cake’s bell as she pushed through the door set her at ease, a welcomed Pavlovian response.

  Gabi’s aunt Sadie was finishing checking out what looked to be their last customer of the day, and she greeted Gabi with a warm smile as she pressed a Take the Cake sticker over the pink box’s opening seam.

  “You’re going to be a hit at your high tea with our macarons!” she said to the customer, handing the box over.

  “Thank you!” the other woman said. “I’m so glad I found your little shop.”

  Sadie waved as the woman headed for the door. “Don’t forget to tell your friends about us. Take the Cake! We bake a difference!”

  The woman didn’t turn around. Once she was out the door, Gabi cringed at her aunt, who rightfully cringed back.

  “Your mom and I are trying out punny slogans for customer greetings,” Sadie said. “I don’t think we’ve hit our mark yet.”

  Gabi pursed her lips, then gasped. “Oh! I got one! We bake big—”

  “—buns and we cannot lie?” Sadie interrupted, finishing what Gabi thought was a brilliantly original addition to the punny slogan list.

  “Guess I’m not as original as I thought,” she said with a laugh. “Is Mom in back?”

  Sadie winced. “She left early. She didn’t tell you—about her plans for tonight?”

  Gabi’s brows drew together. “What about tonight? For as long as I can remember, Saturday nights for my mom consist of a bottle of wine, a cheese plate, and either Gilmore Girls or The Great British Baking Show.”

  Sadie narrowed her eyes at her niece. “Don’t you think your mom deserves more than that?”

  Gabi scoffed, a habit Aunt Becca said she got from her mom, but Gabi didn’t think it was true. Scoffing wasn’t hereditary, was it? And she didn’t really think of her mom as a scoffer.

  “I wasn’t insinuating that was all my mom deserved. I was simply remarking on a certain pattern of behavior.” And truth be told, Gabi had been hoping to partake in the wine, cheese, and Netflix—or perhaps a little Roman Holiday—with hopefully an added dose of motherly advice. “So what are these secret plans?”

  Sadie rolled her eyes. “They’re not secret. She probably just forgot to tell you that she—um—has a date.”

  “Oh,” Gabi said. “Sure. A date. She’s entitled to a life of her own. Guess I’m just used to her being there whenever I needed her to be.”

  Gabi was reminded again of the failed sleepover that turned her into an Audrey Hepburn fangirl—her mom likely having left a date early to be with her daughter.

  But Gabi wasn’t twelve anymore. She had a life of her own, as did her mom. Even at twenty-two, though, it still took getting used to.

  Sadie put a red velvet cupcake in a box and slid it across the counter.

  “Here,” she said. “You look like you could use one of these.” Then she cleared her throat. “I actually have a little date myself, but if you need some company tonight, I could reschedule.”

  Gabi shook her head. “No. It’s fine. I’m fine. Really. Super fine.”

  And she was—as far as her mother being on a date. Despite what she believed was her parents’ epic yet bittersweet love story, she was far past ever wondering or hoping if they’d reconcile.

  But Gabi needed to tell someone—to tell the person she trusted most—that all her careful planning hadn’t resulted in the safety and security she thought she wanted. She needed to hear that changing course didn’t mean she’d lose Ethan.

  Ethan.

  She hadn’t planned on him, but now she couldn’t imagine ever letting him go.

  “That was three fines,” Sadie rema
rked.

  Gabi laughed. “You know what? I just thought of an alternative. Do you think you might be able to give me a ride? I’ll help you close up shop.”

  Sadie raised her brows. “You, my dear, have got yourself a deal.”

  Gabi pulled her phone out of her bag and saw missed texts from both Miriam and Ethan.

  Miriam: What happened? Are you okay? Call me.

  Gabi: I’m fine. A white lie. Call you later tonight.

  Ethan: Hey. I’m home. Are you coming over tonight? If not, I might blow off some steam with T.J. if that’s cool.

  Gabi: Say hi to T.J. Need to take care of some things at home.

  Then she finally found the person who might be able to give her a perspective she hadn’t considered before and made the call before she chickened out.

  “Dad?” she said when he picked up on the first ring. “What are you doing tonight, because I think I need your help?”

  Her father cleared his throat. “Gabs, I know I said I’d work on this whole seeing-you-as-an-adult thing, but if you’re pregnant—”

  Gabi burst out laughing. “God, Dad. No. Can you imagine? I mean, I guess you can. But no. It’s not that. And thank goodness. Planning a wedding, the rest of my life, and a pregnancy? Not to mention Ethan’s family still trying to figure out if I’m going to attempt murder again? No. No baby. Phew. Anyway, speaking of the wedding and the rest of my life, I was hoping I could take you up on some more of that one-on-one time tonight. If you’re free.”

  He let out a relieved-sounding sigh. “Sure,” he said. “You name it.”

  “Great. Since Mom already left for her date, Sadie will drop me off after we close up.”

  A long pause.

  “Dad?” Gabi asked. “You still there?”

  “Yeah. Sorry. Right. Alissa’s date.” Another pause. “I’ll see you soon, Gabs.”

  “Great. See you soon.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Thank you for the drinks. And dinner,” Alissa said as Chris—otherwise known as Hottie McBusinessman—lingered next to her at her car door. It was dark now, but Alissa was parked under a streetlight, and his green eyes shone as he gazed at her. His undeniably sexy green eyes. Or maybe it was the whole package—his thin, fitted navy sweater that hugged his torso in all the right places, an easy smile with clean, white teeth. Alissa did appreciate good dental hygiene. And a full head of thick brown hair that hadn’t even begun to silver.