Sweet Love

by Lauren Accardo

  She poured a glass of water and took a long, cold drink. A few taps on her phone, and Stone Temple Pilots’ acoustic version of “Plush” flowed out of her wireless speaker. She breathed deep, surveyed her waiting kitchen, and got started.

  Hours later, as the moon glowed brightly through her tiny kitchen window and the stretches of icy white snow dampened even the subtlest sound outside, Mila’s phone buzzed with a text from Nicole, momentarily pausing Eddie Vedder’s warbling voice on “Can’t Keep.”

  You up?

  A smile crept across Mila’s lips as she wiped the Concord grape juice off her hands and onto a dish towel. Neither she nor Nicole had ever been great sleepers. When they were teenagers, Nicole would text You up? and they’d talk in hushed voices over the phone to each other until dawn. Conversations consisted mostly of Nicole droning on about her latest crush or the injustices of middle school, but the company comforted Mila. She liked knowing she wasn’t alone.

  Mila texted back.

  Of course I’m up. Can’t win the Pine Ridge Spring Bake-Off if you require luxuries like sleep.

  Mila’s home phone rang seconds later.

  “Hi, Nic.”

  “Hi, Lee. Whatcha baking?”

  The creamy purple mousse shimmered in the moonlight, the crimped golden crust still emitting a warm, toasty scent. That was the one. She didn’t need anyone else to taste it. She didn’t need to test it again.

  “I finally did it,” Mila said, her voice hushed and reverent. “I think I found the recipe I’m going to use next week for round one.”

  “Yeah, you did! What is it?”

  “It’s sort of a sweet and savory . . .”

  “Ugh, really? Savory? I was sort of hoping you’d do something super decadent, like chocolate on chocolate on chocolate.”

  Mila shook her head. Nicole’s tastes were simple. For her birthday, Mila usually whipped up a classic apple pie. One year she’d played around with ginger graham cracker crust, and Nicole ate only the filling, innocently inquiring if the crust had gone bad.

  “I have to be really inventive if I want to win,” Mila said.

  “Did you ever get to the bottom of those flowers?” Nicole asked.

  Mila’s skin prickled. The heat from the kitchen had dissipated quickly after she’d turned off the oven, and now she needed a sweater.

  “You saw the card,” Mila said. “Jared sent them.”

  “Yeah, but why?”

  Mila swallowed, swiping at a thin trail of flour on her Formica countertop. She hadn’t told Nicole the details of the trip to Eat at Jam’s, the slow dance, the way her body curled toward Jared’s. How could she explain her feelings without Nicole laughing in her face, reminding her that a union between Hometown Mila and Anywhere-but-Here Jared could only end in heartache?

  Mila cleared her throat. “He, uh . . . he said he forgot he sent them.”

  She figured a half-truth was better than a complete and total lie.

  “Are you kidding me?” Nicole said.

  “It’s not a big deal.” Mila’s voice jumped a register. “We all know Jared can be an idiot.”

  “Sure,” Nicole said, “but he’s not allowed to be an idiot to you. He’s not allowed to hurt you or treat you with blatant disregard.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend, Nic. He doesn’t owe me shit.”

  Nicole released a deep, guttural groan. “Demand more from him, Lee Lee. You have such low expectations for the people in your life.”

  Mila gritted her teeth. Did Nicole realize she fell into that group, too? Of course her friend loved her. She showed up to birthday dinners and called regularly, but she shoved Mila in directions she wasn’t quite ready to go. The weird pineapple pie she made should’ve been apple, she should’ve worn hoops instead of studs to better suit her face, the dishrags Marty gave her for Christmas should’ve been called out instead of accepted with a fake smile. Nicole never let her friend slide. She never gave her a pass. Sometimes Nicole’s quest for greatness bled into Mila’s life and exhausted her.

  Mila glanced out the window at the moon. Her chest tightened, as did her grip on the phone. When would she finally say “Enough”?

  “You’re right.” Mila’s voice hummed low and even. “I do. I have very low expectations for the people in my life. Nobody really understands me. Nobody gives me as much as I give them.”

  “Exactly.”

  Nicole still didn’t get it.

  “So maybe I’ll start making some changes.”

  “Yes!” Nicole yelped. “Good for you.”

  “Starting with you.”

  “What? Me? Oh, please, I was not including myself in that statement.”

  “Yeah, I know you weren’t,” Mila said. “But you should’ve.”

  “Okay, so my advice is a little harsh sometimes. Occasionally, though, you need a push. I have only ever wanted the best for you.”

  “I’m not disputing that,” Mila said. “I just wish sometimes you would recognize that I don’t need a push. I need support. You think you always know what’s best for me, but we’re not the same person. What you need is not the same as what I need. You know what I mean?”

  Mila’s heart thumped wildly inside her chest, reminding her that a confrontation like this could have maximum consequences. What would she do without Nicole in her life? How could she get by without her closest girlfriend?

  In a tiny voice Mila had never heard before, Nicole said, “No. I don’t know what you mean.”

  Mila licked her lips, lowered herself onto a kitchen stool, and tried again. “You’ve created a really specific life for yourself. You’re good at everything because you put a hundred percent of yourself into everything you do. And that’s fine, I’m not asking you to change. I love that about you. But I need you to see me. I’m not a super competitive person, and I think that’s okay. I just wish sometimes you would be . . . gentler with me.”

  For as long as Mila could remember, Nicole had something to say. And now, silence.

  “Nic?”

  Nicole sniffed. “I didn’t realize.”

  “Jesus, are you crying?”

  “Lee, I love you so much. I didn’t know you felt this way. I thought I was being helpful.”

  Mila inhaled a shaky breath. “You are. I know you want me to be the best version of myself. But I need to do all that in my own time. I’ve felt this way for a while. I never said anything because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  “Well, you did.” Nicole laughed, her voice thick with emotion. “But it’s good. I’m glad you said something. God, that’s how I’ve always felt about my mom. Nothing’s ever good enough for Deb.”

  “You are nothing like your mother.”

  “Oh, please. I’m exactly like my mom. Except for my marriage. I tried really hard there.”

  Mila pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to say that Nicole had chosen a man exactly like her father, from the way he took his coffee to the town in Jamaica their families hailed from. But Calvin and Nicole were equals. That she made sure of.

  “You and Calvin are perfect,” Mila said. “You don’t treat him like your mother treats your father in any way.”

  Nicole sniffed again. “Thanks for saying that.”

  Mila’s heart slowed, the weight of the conversation releasing something inside her. Nicole hadn’t freaked out or walked away from her. She’d listened. She’d really heard her.

  “Thanks for being so receptive,” Mila said. “That was . . . really fucking hard for me.”

  Nicole laughed. “I’ve literally never seen you confront anyone in my entire life, so yeah. I’d imagine.”

  “I love you.”

  “Love you.” Nicole cleared her throat. “Get some sleep. See you at Sunday dinner? Your mom called to remind me, so I’m assuming that means attend
ance is mandatory.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  “You want Calvin and me to pick you up so you can drink heavily? He doesn’t mind being DD.”

  Mila grinned. Calvin had picked them up many times, no matter how late in the evening they called him from the bar. “Nah, I’ll be fine. Thank you, though.”

  “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  “ ’Night, Nic.”

  “ ’Night, Lee.”

  chapter eight

  You told her you forgot you sent her flowers?”

  Jared slowly released the lat pull-down machine, and a labored exhale whooshed past his lips. He wished he’d known Denny was a former pro athlete before he’d agreed to a gym trip with the guy. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to stop.

  “She caught me off guard, dude,” Jared said. “I mean, eventually I told her they were apology flowers. But I think the damage was already done.”

  Denny scoffed and upped the weight on the machine before shooing Jared away. “So now she’s pissed off, right?”

  “I think so.” Jared took a swig from his water bottle. Even craning his neck hurt. “She won’t text me back.”

  As Denny lowered the lat bar, his face pinched. When he gritted his teeth, Jared laughed at himself. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t recognized the guy. Denny Torres. Defensive back for Carolina who retired from the league in the prime of his career, confusing media and fans alike, and is now hanging out in Pine Ridge as an Indigo Hotels spokesperson.

  Yikes. How the mighty have fallen.

  “Go to her job, then,” Denny said. “Be bold. None of this waffling shit. Women don’t respect men who tiptoe around their feelings, making half-assed gestures and then taking them back.”

  The guy was starting to piss him off.

  “Cut me a break. We’ve been friends our whole lives. This is probably coming out of left field for her.”

  “All the more reason to be bold, bruh.”

  Bruh. What a douche.

  “Listen, I gotta head out. I took tomorrow off for the bake-off, so I’ve got a ton of shit to catch up on at work today.” He grabbed his water bottle and towel and turned away from the lat machine.

  “Good luck, J. See you tomorrow. And don’t forget.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Jared called over his shoulder. “Be bold.”

  “Be freaking bold, dude!”

  Jared took the fastest shower of his life before jumping into his car and racing back to Pine Ridge. Denny was kind of a dope, but his words echoed in Jared’s head. Women don’t respect men who tiptoe around their feelings.

  He’d never been shy around Mila. He’d never had to put up a facade. But Denny was right about one thing: If he wanted to move past this awkward sexual tension with Mila, he had to make a move in one direction or the other. Flowers just wouldn’t cut it.

  Maybe he should ask Sam for advice.

  The option fell flat before he could truly consider it. No way in hell could he tell anybody else he had feelings for Mila. In a town this tiny, that news would spread like wildfire, and the gossips would be shipping them before the sun went down. He’d have to move to a new town with his head hung in shame or risk the old ladies clucking their tongues every time he walked past the diner with a sad look on his face.

  Nah. He couldn’t talk to Sam. It was easy opening up to Denny because the guy was a veritable stranger who’d be heading out of town shortly anyway. If none of this worked out, the secret would die on a cloud of engine exhaust as Denny passed the LEAVING PINE RIDGE sign.

  One thing he knew for sure was that he had to clear the air about the flowers. He wasn’t quite ready to come clean about his true intentions, but he couldn’t go on getting the silent treatment from Mila. He valued her place in his life too much for that.

  He parked his car outside the diner and jogged inside, bracing against the bitter cold. April in Pine Ridge looked a lot like November, and he couldn’t wait until the first whispers of spring blew through town.

  “Hey, man, what’s up?”

  Jared stopped short just inside the door. Vin sat at the counter, hunched over a menu and dressed in a tight-fitting black hoodie and jeans. Goddamned hipster.

  “Hey,” Jared said. Mila pushed through the kitchen door, her face dropping from neutral to Go to hell immediately upon seeing Jared. Her makeup-free face glowed pink from the heat of the kitchen, and the heavy dusting of freckles across the mask of her face stood out like constellations in a clear night sky.

  I feel sorry for people who can’t see the stars.

  Jared’s throat dried up. Well, hell. If that wasn’t the truth.

  “Sit down, man,” Vin said. “I just got here. I could use a buddy.”

  Jared bit back the words threatening to explode from his mouth. He’d hoped for a private moment with Mila to explain himself, but now this jerkball sat here ready to ruin everything. He shrugged off his coat, hung it on the coatrack, and begrudgingly took the stool next to Vin.

  Mila grabbed a mug and poured Jared coffee without asking. Her copper eyes remained trained on the task at hand.

  “How’s it going?” he asked.

  “Fine,” she said. “Busy.” She turned away from the counter and made a slow rotation of the restaurant, offering coffee to those with both full and empty mugs.

  “So, what’s up with you two?” Jared asked.

  “Nothing.” Vin spat the word out. “I took her out for some drinks last week, we had a good time, and then she practically raced home. Didn’t even invite me inside. She been dicked over or something?”

  Jared’s adrenaline soared. They all had their skeletons, but Mila had taken on burdens no kid should have to deal with. As soon as Aunt Georgie moved into her parents’ house, Mila’s older sisters started spending less time at home, and Mila took on the role of Georgie’s nursemaid. She cooked to Georgie’s specifications, did her laundry, cleaned the dishes. Her parents worked all hours of the day and night, leaving Mila to run the house. She did it without being asked. She did it without complaint. And she’d turned into one tough chick because of it, not so easily swayed by some city punk in a tight hoodie.

  “Yeah,” Jared said. “I mean, she’s been through some stuff.”

  “Eh. Not the first frosty chick I’ve worked miracles on.” Vin turned his attention back to the menu. “God, the food here sucks.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  Vin turned again and looked at Jared quizzically. “Trying to make inroads, dude. I’ll eat a bad burger if it softens her up, you know?”

  This guy begged for a punch in the jaw. But Jared had only ever punched one man, and that man was blood. His brother had deserved it, too.

  “Why bother?” Jared said. “You’re only in town temporarily, right?”

  “Probably.” Vin continued to scan the menu, shoving his hipster glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. “But now that Indigo’s gonna have a property here, I’ll be back and forth a bit. I like to have options when I’m out on the road. It’s not like I can hop on Tinder in this town.”

  Color rose in Jared’s cheeks, setting his face on fire. His hands clasped atop the counter, trembling and shaking as if begging to sock this guy in the mouth.

  “Dude,” he said, forcing a simmering calm into his voice. “She’s not somebody to fuck around with. She’s not somebody you sleep with and then disappear on. If you promise her things you can’t deliver on and then hurt her, I will personally—”

  “What’s going on?” Mila returned, her forehead creased with concern. “Why are you all red, J?”

  A tiny, amused smirk played on Vin’s lips as he watched Jared twist and squirm. He closed his menu and turned his attention on Mila. “Can I get a grilled cheese, babe? With fries?”

  Babe. Did Mila grimace? She hated pet names. Marty had tried to ca
ll her honey once, and she mimicked throwing up until Marty got pissed off and left the bar.

  “Sure,” she said. “You want a little mayo on your grilled cheese? It’s way better that way.”

  “That sounds amazing,” Vin said. “Good call.”

  Vin turned to Jared, the same smug grin on his face. “Sorry you were interrupted. What were you gonna say?”

  Every nerve in Jared’s body blazed, anger coursing under his skin like hot lava. Vin didn’t deserve to be within three feet of Mila let alone date her. Jared’s only solace lay in the fact that she hadn’t slept with him yet.

  Jared raked a hand through his hair. He’d forgotten to bring product with him to the gym, and his usually tamed style fell over his forehead. He tried to push it back again. Even his hair wouldn’t do what he wanted.

  “I gotta go,” he said. He pushed away from the counter, eliciting a confused stare from Mila.

  “Didn’t you want to eat?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Honestly, I wanted to talk to you. But it doesn’t feel like the right time.”

  She swallowed, the hollow in her throat shifting and causing her tiny, sparkly necklace to glint in the diner lights. Was she still mad at him? She should be. After their incredible night at Eat at Jam’s, he’d snapped at her and tried to cover his tracks with the most clichéd gesture imaginable. He’d really messed up. And now she had somebody after her calling her babe.

  Her eyes flickered to Vin before returning to Jared.

  “I can take a quick break.” She cleared her throat. “If you want.”

  He didn’t trust his voice to respond, instead nodding awkwardly as she removed her apron and headed toward the rear exit. He followed her through the kitchen and out the back door. The chilly spring air cooled his cheeks.

  She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and looked up, making it obvious he’d be the one to speak first. The clear day lent a glassiness to her copper eyes and revealed golden streaks like rays of sunshine in her irises.