by Gina Azzi
“You didn’t have to bring anything,” Mary says, her eyes shining as she kisses Mom hello and thanks Dad for the two decorative wine sleeves he hands her.
“We’re so happy you’re back,” Joe chimes in, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
I grin up at him, remembering the pep talks he used to give Savannah, Claire, and me when the neighborhood boys would exclude us from their hockey and basketball games.
Mary leads the adults into the kitchen but I hang back, my gaze finding Austin’s. He’s leaning against the closet door, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“You look different,” I blurt out, feeling my cheeks blaze.
He snickers. “It’s been a minute.”
“I didn’t think you’d be here.”
He winks. “But you’re happy to see me, right?”
I roll my eyes and he grins. He’s taller than I imagined and I have to crane my neck to look into his face. His smirk isn’t as sly as it once was but his eyes are sharper, bolder, scanning mine with an intensity I feel down to my toes.
Strong shoulders, a broad chest, a tapered waist. Stop checking him out! I drag my eyes back to Austin’s face, not missing the knowing glint in his eyes.
“It’s good to see you again, Chlo.” He straightens and holds his arms out for a hug like we’re old friends. I guess, technically, we are.
But this feels different. Awareness unfurls throughout my limbs, my heart rate ticks up, and my skin tingles under Austin’s gaze. I feel like a hesitant teenager again, like my skin is too tight for all of the emotions trying to break free.
I step into Austin’s embrace, my eyes closing of their own accord when he holds me close. His cologne wraps around me the way it always did but now, even that’s different. His chest is hard and warm under my ear, just like I remember. But the arms holding me now are the arms of a man and I want to sink into their strength more than I should.
A hell of a lot more than a woman with a broken heart and an uncertain future should consider.
2
Austin
Chloe Crawford’s presence hits me as both a memory and a vision when I hug her hello.
Just seeing her jogs a million childhood moments I haven’t thought about in years. Chloe and I grew up together. She was my first friend, thanks to our moms throwing us together at every opportunity. Back in the day, we took baths together, joined the same T-ball team, and had sleepovers. Our childhood bond morphed into more of a sibling rivalry during our middle school years, when Chloe irritated me just as much as Savannah and Claire. By the time we entered high school, our paths diverged as I threw myself into hockey and she was swept up by the dedicated, honors class crew whose intelligence was way out of my league. At first, I didn’t think much of it, considering she lived just next door. But when the Crawfords moved to New York at the end of our sophomore year of high school, I felt her absence a lot more than I let on.
She showed up to nearly all of my hockey games, sporting my number and banging on the glass when the ref made a poor call. Every year, she met me at the end of her driveway on the morning of the season’s first snowfall for a snowball fight. She was a permanent fixture in my life until she wasn’t and by the time I realized how much distance existed between us, it seemed too late to do anything about it. Especially for a fifteen-year-old smartass who showed affection through pranks instead of meaningful conversation.
Right now, with her light brown hair skimming the tops of her shoulders and her arms wrapped around my waist in a hug, it seems like an entire decade hasn’t passed us by. Instead, I recall my entire childhood with perfect clarity.
“Good to see you, too.” She pulls back, tossing me an easy smile.
It hits me harder than it’s supposed to because it shouldn’t hit me at all. But God, she’s gorgeous. I remember her freshman year of high school, confident and brazen, leveling the giggly girls who used to wait in front of my locker with a vicious side-eye. While the rest of us always seemed to be struggling to figure it out, Chloe always had her shit together. She dips her head and tucks her hair behind her ear, uncertain. Changed. The woman standing before me now is just that, a woman. Soft curves, smooth skin, and delicate features. But there’s something else too, something I can’t put my finger on but it causes a ribbon of unease to unspool in the pit of my stomach.
“When’d you get into town?” I ask, slinging an arm around her shoulders and guiding her to the kitchen. As usual, I’m the first of my family members to make it to Mom and Dad’s house on time.
Claire and Easton are notorious for being late. My cousin Indy, always punctual, messaged that she was waiting for Noah to come home so she didn’t have to drive over alone. Savannah and Mike live in New York now and no longer make weekly dinners. And Indy’s parents, Aunt Leanne and Uncle Jemmy, are in Aruba. Aunt Lee is calling it their last hurrah before Indy’s baby arrives.
Right now, not counting our parents who are already clinking wine glasses and talking a thousand miles a minute, it’s just Chloe and me.
“About a week ago,” she answers, her eyes darting around the kitchen. I wonder if she’s seeing the same half-forgotten memories I am.
“Chloe, dear, we’re so happy you could join us.” Mom kisses her head for the second time in ten minutes and places a wine glass in her hand.
“Me too, Mary. Thanks.” Chloe takes a sip of her wine.
Mom tsks, hugging Chloe close. “I wish the circumstances were different, honey. But your mom and dad are thrilled you’re here and I’m certain your presence will brighten Mimi’s summer.”
Chloe flushes, dropping her head again to hide behind her wine glass.
Circumstances? What circumstances?
My unease heightens into concern.
“What happened?” I ask as soon as Mom scurries over to the oven to check on the appetizers.
Chloe shifts her weight and bites her bottom lip. Emotion swells in her eyes and my stomach sinks, a hundred awful scenarios flipping through my mind. Is Mimi sick? Are Greg or Diane, Chloe’s parents, unwell? Why wouldn’t Mom tell me?
An image flares in my mind. Three years ago, a Christmas party, a radiant Chloe with bright eyes and a wide smile. And an oily banker who’s hand kept migrating to her ass. His shoes were too damn shiny and I didn’t like him on sight. Seeing him and Chlo together filled me with a strange sense of nostalgia and melancholy that confused me almost as much as Chloe’s indifference to everyone who wasn’t him. What the hell is his name? Didn’t he propose?
My gaze drops to her ring finger. No ring.
She flinches when she catches me looking and I blow out a sigh, putting it all together.
“What the fuck did he do?” I growl, hating that some clown hitting way above his average would hurt my friend. Three years ago, I didn’t like the guy —what the hell is his name?—and right now, seeing the devastation in Chlo’s eyes, I can’t fucking stand him.
Chloe shrugs and clears her throat. She offers me a tiny smile that quickly falls flat. “It’s not worth getting into.” She sighs and raises her wine glass, a familiar spark zipping through her gaze. “Oh, who am I kidding? A few more of these and I’ll be blabbering the whole sob story to anyone who will listen.”
I snicker, knowing she’s aiming for levity. Looking her over, it strikes me just how many years have slipped by without my checking in with my first friend. How now, I know absolutely nothing about her life. “You know I’ll listen, Chlo. You okay?”
She exhales slowly. “I will be. It’s still fresh.”
I nod, even though I have no idea what the hell that must feel like. I don’t do serious commitments, just easy understandings. In the past two weeks since my hockey team, the Boston Hawks, won the Stanley Cup, the subtle and not-so-subtle offers of simple, no-strings-attached sex have been in overwhelming abundance.
“You back in Boston for good?”
She shuffles from one foot to the next. “I’m n
ot sure yet. Honestly, everything happened so suddenly and I just wanted…space. So, I’m here for the summer and then, I’ll see what comes next.”
“What about work?” I lean back against the kitchen island, crossing my ankles.
“I’m lucky my job allows for location mobility.”
I run my palm over the back of my head. What the hell does she do for a living again? Why can’t I remember? I’m about to ask her when the doorbell rings. I glance over my shoulder but Mom and Dad are way too occupied with Greg and Diane to answer it. I gesture to the door with my head. Chloe falls in step beside me.
“Since you’re here for the summer,” I continue, “you need to come out with us. We’re not nearly as sophisticated as your friends in New York but we’re not awful either.”
“We?” Her brow furrows.
I reach for the front door just as Claire pushes it open. It swings hard, bouncing against the doorstopper and Chloe jumps, chuckling.
“Ahh! You’re here!” my sister announces, pulling Chloe into a hug.
My best friend and Claire’s boyfriend, Easton, is close behind, followed up by my cousin Indy and her man, another one of my friends and teammates, Noah.
“Gang’s all here,” Noah announces, his eyes widening when he spots Chloe. “Chloe Crawford, is that you?”
Easton smacks my shoulder hello.
“I love when the kids outnumber the parents,” Claire says.
Noah pulls Chloe into a hug, muttering how many years it’s been since he’s seen her. When I was thirteen, I met Easton and Noah Scotch at a hockey camp in Canada. For the following summers and all through high school, they would spend weeks at my house. Those first few summers, before the Crawfords moved to New York, their paths crossed with Chloe’s. Another thing I forgot all about.
“We’re both back!” Indy exclaims, greeting Chloe hello.
“Wait a second,” Chloe chuckles, her finger wagging between Easton and Claire and then Noah and Indy. “You guys are together? Like, all hooked up?”
Indy beams and links her arm with Noah’s. “We’re having a baby!”
“I can see that.” Chloe smiles and squeezes Indy’s hand, her gaze darting between Indy and Noah. “Congratulations. You guys, this is, wow. It’s kind of a lot.”
“Tell me about it,” I mutter.
Claire laughs. “Good thing you got out of here, Chlo, or you might be dating Austin now.”
Chloe chuckles as I flip my sister the middle finger.
I close the door and take Indy’s shoulder bag, weighted down with her laptop, as Claire leads the group into the kitchen for drinks. The greetings and laughter float into the foyer.
How has it been nearly fifteen years since Chloe was a permanent fixture in this house? How have I gone this long without checking in with my oldest, childhood friend? And why the hell is the distance between us bothering me now when I haven’t even thought about it in years?
“Kings!” Claire claps her hands excitedly.
“No, no.” Easton shakes his head. “Never Have I Ever?”
“Meh.” Indy wrinkles her nose.
“Good to know we’re not too old for drinking games,” Noah murmurs.
Chloe grins and leans back in her Adirondack-style chair. “Never too old for those, Scotch.”
We’re seated around the firepit in my parents’ backyard. The adults are inside, munching on a charcuterie board and drinking wine and craft beer. But the kids, the kids have banded together just the way we did in high school, coming out to the backyard to drink and play games.
The fire flickers, a nod to our old high school days, even though it’s too warm to really use. It reminds me of the bonfires we used to have in an old field, about five miles outside of town, in high school. Seeing Chloe now, with her hair pulled away from her face, her eyes dancing, brings me back to freshman year. A bonfire. The night Mason Kinner kissed her and my chest pulled uncomfortably tight. I hated the way Mason touched her face, her hair, as if he knew her body a hell of a lot more intimately. More than that, I hated that she leaned into his touch.
I couldn’t look away and for the first time, I felt true jealousy. Which was ridiculous. Chloe and I had been friends my entire life. She pissed me off more often than not.
“Cheers to the Governor?” Chloe suggests, pulling me back to the game.
“Cheers to the Governor,” Claire agrees.
Easton sighs and leans back in his chair, bringing a club soda to his lips. I study him to make sure he’s fine with this. East has been in recovery for a handful of months and has been doing an awesome job with his sobriety. Sometimes, I worry that stupid nights like these will trigger something for him. But he seems fine. Same with Indy, now in her third trimester and sipping on a ginger ale.
“Okay,” Claire springs into action. She swiped a bottle of wine from the kitchen and adds some to her and Chloe’s cups.
Noah and I sip our beers and wait for Claire to decide the starting rule.
“A quick recap,” Claire says as she settles back into her chair. “We go around the circle and count to twenty-one, then we cheers the governor. Whoever says number twenty-one, gets to make a new rule that will be incorporated into the next round. And we keep going. Our starting rule is to swap number three with eleven.”
“All right,” Chloe says, kicking it off by saying one.
Our first round is easy and we all cheers and drink as Indy declares the new rule. “Instead of saying seven, you have to share an embarrassing truth.”
“That’ll be easy for me,” East mutters. Claire leans over and gives him a quick peck on the lips.
I catch Chloe take in their interaction, longing flashing across her expression before she clears it. Over the course of dinner, as the wine flowed and the conversation naturally picked up as if we haven’t seen Chloe in a few weeks instead of more than a decade, she relaxed substantially.
I tip my head toward hers. “Don’t worry, you get used to it. They’re pretty much always disgusting.”
“Hey!” Claire says, pointing at Indy. “We’re not nearly as bad as them.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Depends on the day.”
Chloe chuckles and opens her mouth but before she says anything, Noah begins the next round. When we make it to twenty-one, we cheers and drink.
“Next rule,” Claire announces, “instead of saying number four, you have to sing the chorus of Madonna’s ‘Like a Virgin.’”
Easton belts out the lyrics like a pro, surprising the girls. Chloe cracks up as Indy claps and Claire whistles.
“Didn’t think I knew that, did you?” East asks when he’s done.
“I’m impressed!” Chloe cheers for him.
We make it to twenty-one three more times, before the rules segue into memories and old stories. Soon, we’re chatting high school and hockey and it’s so familiar that a wave of nostalgia crashes over me, pulling my thoughts in different directions.
Back then, things seemed complicated and uncertain. I would talk with Chloe, who had her whole future mapped out. She wanted to attend Columbia University, major in journalism, and become an investigative journalist.
Her confidence, something I admired, always left me feeling worried about my future. Would I get a hockey scholarship to college? Would I make it to the NHL? Would I still be friends with the guys on my team? If only I knew then how much the pressure would swell, how difficult it would become to balance hockey and life.
In hindsight, I knew nothing about managing stress and shouldering responsibility. Since becoming team captain, the anxiety I’ve always been prone to has swelled to epic proportions. The past few weeks, since we’ve won the Cup, it’s been almost unbearable. Because we won the fucking Cup.
I suck in an inhale, my gaze trained on the low lick of flames in the firepit. My knee begins to bounce up and down as my thoughts spiral.
Now what? How are we going to beat that this season? How do we compete with ourselves now that Torsten Hansen retired? H
ow do we hang onto a victory that was nearly impossible to secure in the first place? Will the team question my leadership if we don’t make it? Will I?
“Our summers here were always the best. Probably the only thing East and I looked forward to all school year,” Noah says in response to something Claire mentioned.
I lean back in my chair and take a pull of my beer. I focus on quieting the thoughts in my mind so I can pay attention to the conversation. To the present.
East nods in agreement, lifting his chin to Chloe. “When did you move again? End of our freshman year?”
“Sophomore,” Chloe supplies, taking a sip of her wine. Her cheeks are ruddier than they were an hour ago and she eases back into her chair.
“Was it hard, starting over at a new high school?” Indy asks.
Chloe tilts her head, considering the question. “It was okay. The first few months were tough because I was trying to find my place again, you know? Here, I took pride in being the nerdy girl—”
“You weren’t the—” I start but Chloe gives me a look.
“Amen to being the nerdy girl.” Indy raises her ginger ale.
Chloe and Indy grin at each other and each take a drink.
“But then I made friends. Abbi and Brittney.” She visibly winces when she says the second girl’s name and I narrow my gaze. “We were tight through high school and college. I mean, Abbi and I are still really close. She’s like a sister to me.”
“But Brittney?” Indy asks slowly.
Chloe lets out a long sigh and glances around the group.
“We don’t like her, do we?” Claire asks.
One side of Chloe’s mouth tugs upward but her eyes fill with tears and my sister swears, leaning forward in her seat. “Oh God, did something happen to Brittney?” Claire asks, panic in her wide eyes.
Chloe shakes her head and wipes her eyes, snorting. “Brittney and Steve were having an affair. I, I caught them and—”
“Your Steve?” Claire asks, her mouth dropping open. “With your friend?”
