Retrouvailles

It was nearing 10 P.M. when Sarah finally arrived at Philadelphia International Airport. Short-term parking was only free for an hour; anything longer than that would have her paying out the wazoo when Loren could’ve just as easily taken a cab. She’d only offered to pick her up because Max and his friend had gone back to Canada for a few weeks and she had nothing to do.

Loren spotted her easily. In just a week’s time, her friend had managed to make herself look like an entirely new person. Or just a more artistic one, Loren corrected herself. Sarah’s hair was usually messy—Loren had only seen it two ways: tied to the top of her head in an oversized knot or hanging down in long, tangled strands—but she’d chopped it all off, now sporting an asymmetrical bob. She’d dyed it too. Long gone were her dark brown locks, having been replaced by a blinding white-blonde. The only way Loren knew it was Sarah at all was because of her paint-splattered jeans and grotesque height.

“It’s about time,” Loren said, hiking her bag higher on her shoulder as she followed Sarah to the parking lot.

“Hey, you could’ve taken a cab. I only offered to be nice and because I figured you missed me after a week god-knows-where.”

Loren’s eyes rolled. “I was in Canada. And Erie.”

“It’s Erie that ‘god-knows-where’ applied to.”

The airport wasn’t terribly crowded, but with the recent developments in her life, Loren was paranoid. She was terrified that everyone recognized her and was ready to forcibly remove her from the city. Public enemy number one, just like Dillinger.

When the pair finally reached Sarah’s car, she popped the trunk and helped Loren load her bags. “How’d that whole disaster pan out?”

Loren sighed, deciding to save her pseudo-sob story for the drive home. She was exhausted from both her flight and dealing with Sidney. Backing out of attending Jordan’s wedding at the last minute probably wasn’t her best move, but she was in major damage control mode, and spending the rest of her vacation in Ontario would get her fired and, more than likely, institutionalized. Luckily, Sidney was very understanding and had Martin book her flight home.

“Max felt really bad about that, by the way,” Sarah said as turned the key in the ignition.

No words came from Loren until they were on I-95. She tried not to look to the left as the Wells Fargo Center went zipping by, but she couldn’t help it.

“Do you think it’s worth it?”

Sarah glanced at her friend out of the corner of her eye. She knew Loren was flighty when it came to her relationship, but she’d never seen her so distraught. It’d been easy before. Sidney was kept at an arm’s length because he still had responsibilities to tend to in Pittsburgh, but now there was nothing keeping them apart and Loren’s hand was forced. Being on public display didn’t help, either. One wrong move and millions of people would be cheering her failures. She wasn’t used to that kind of attention.

“Do I think what’s worth it?”

Loren stared at her lap, picking imaginary dirt from beneath her fingernails. “You love what you do, right? Like, for a living?” Sarah hummed in agreement. “Would you risk losing it for a relationship?”

A commercial for erectile dysfunction came on the radio and Sarah shut it off in a hurry, cracking a stale joke about timing. Then she sighed. “How many times have we had this conversation, Loren?”

“A lot,” Loren replied, feeling like a child being disciplined.

“And I always tell you the same thing.”

Loren looked out the window, suddenly overcome with guilt. Even her friends were getting tired of holding her hand, and she knew a thing or two about losing friends and how much that sucked. If she didn’t make up her mind, she was going to lose everyone close to her.

“Joe told me I have until Monday to get everything sorted out.”

Sarah flew by the Broad Street exit. “And if you don’t?”

“I’m fired. Where are we going?”

“I have a full tank of gas and a friend in distress.”

Loren didn’t respond, seeming deep in thought, though that wasn’t unusual for her. If her mind wasn’t occupied by her job, it was Sidney vying for her attention, and now that she was stressed over them both there was very little chance of bringing her back down to Earth.

They sped down 95 North until they reached the Pennsylvania Turnpike and turned around. Very few words came from the passenger seat and Sarah was reluctant to press her to talk about what was bothering her. It’d be of no use, a blind person could tell what was bothering her, and there was very little, if anything, Sarah could do to help her. Loren was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and she was the only person who could get herself out of it.

However, once she finally did speak, Sarah nearly crashed into the Delaware River.

“I think my dad has a girlfriend.”

An SUV honked loudly and swerved into the left lane as Sarah slammed on the breaks. It seemed like a dozen middle fingers were thrust in their direction as they sped by, but Sarah paid them no mind. Instead, she quickly glanced at Loren with wide eyes. “What?”

“I left my laptop at home, and when all this shit happened, I had to email Brian so I used my dad’s. I saw all these messages from some woman named Eileen.”

Sarah whistled. “And he didn’t mention anything to you?”

“No.” Loren was back to ridding her nails of imaginary dirt. “There was a vase of flowers above the kitchen sink but I think he’d just picked them from the backyard or something.”

“She bought your dad flowers?” Loren nodded. “Talk about role reversal.”

Loren smiled despite herself. “I just… Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

“Maybe because it’s been thirteen years and you’re still torn up over your mom? I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, Lo, everyone copes differently, but I definitely think he’d be reluctant to tell you in case you accused him of trying to replace her.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

Sarah gave her a look that clearly called her on her bullshit. “Yes you would. Again, I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but you definitely have a warped perspective on love.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m going to explain this to you as best I can, and please know I’m doing it from a place of love and not criticism, okay?” Loren shrugged, already offended.

“All you ever knew about love you learned from your parents,” Sarah said, not daring to take her eyes off the road to look at her friend. “They loved each other. A lot, from what you’ve told me, and seeing them probably secured your faith in fairytales and all those bullshit romance movies that make me want to gag. And that’s okay,” she added quickly, “but it’s not realistic.”

“What d’you mean it’s not realistic? If my mom hadn’t died, they’d still be together and just as in love as they were thirteen years ago and my dad wouldn’t be dating anyone named Eileen.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Sarah’s voice dropped to a near-whisper. “People get lonely, Loren. Your dad’s been alone since the second your mom passed away, and then you left for college and that probably amplified to being almost unbearable. Granted, I don’t know your dad and I can’t speak on his behalf, but I see that loneliness in you.”

Loren, perpetually stubborn, scoffed. “I’m not lonely.”

“You are, and I know it’d kill you to admit it. I saw it the first day we met. I didn’t know your reasoning for it then, but I know now it was because you had to leave Sidney back in Pittsburgh and your shitty ex-friend thought it’d be cool to try and ruin your life.

“I see it now, too. When you and Sidney are together, it’s like you’re a completely different person. It’s like you’re finally whole, almost, because as soon as he’s gone it’s back again.” Sarah sighed, trying to ignore knowing Loren had started crying in the seat next to her. “I know you love your job, Loren. I know you love the life you built here and all the people you met, but your job isn’t everything. Your job doesn’t define who you are as a person and it shouldn’t fucking dictate your life. They can’t tell you who you can and can’t be in love with. That’s not fair.”

Loren sniffled. “I know, Sarah. It’s just—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you’re petrified of change. But he’s not going to wait for you to get your head out of your ass. He may love you and think you’re The One, but he plays a game for a living, Loren. He’s not going to play one at home, too. Either you’re with him one-hundred percent or you need to walk away and stop yanking his chain. He doesn’t deserve it, and neither do you.”

The woman in the passenger seat looked at Sarah with glassy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “I love him, Sarah. I’m in love with him.”

Sarah used her free hand to cover Loren’s, which was trembling against her thigh. “I know you do, babe. I know this is probably a really shitty situation and it probably hurts like hell, but I’m trying to talk some sense into you. You’d be even more of a wreck if you lost him twice.”

The car slowed as Sarah merged onto 76 to take the Broad Street exit. They were still ten minutes away from their building, but Loren had already made up her mind. She knew what she had to do—or, at least, what she was going to do—and longed for the comfort of her own apartment to ease the anxiety.

“Want to come to my place for drinks?”

Loren shrugged, figuring a little liquid confidence wouldn’t hurt. She’d be less likely to back out if she had just an ounce more of self-assuredness. “Yeah, sure.”

Pulling into her designated parking space, Sarah killed the engine and offered up a cheshire grin. “Great, because there’s something I want to show you.”

It was a kitten. In fact, it was two kittens, one with medium-length gray fur and one with much shorter orange fur. Sarah had named the orange one—the boy—Vinny, after Van Gogh (“Because they’re both gingers!” Sarah had explained). The girl was Florence, named after the birthplace of her favorite female artist, Maria Cosway.

Florence immediately planted herself in Loren’s lap, nuzzling her hand and making the most adorable noises Loren had ever heard. “Where did you get them?”

Sarah grinned again and leaned over the table to hand Loren a glass of wine. “You know how athletes are always doing charity work and shit, right?” Loren nodded but didn’t look up from playing with Florence. “Well, I just did a bunch of renovations for some baseball player and he invited me to some charity event at the shelter to help me network. I saw these two adorable bastards and I couldn’t just leave them there.”

Vinny was curled in a ball on the back of Sarah’s plush armchair. He must’ve been dreaming, because every now and then he’d twitch and let out a quiet cry. Loren pouted, feeling like she was going to combust from the cuteness.

“She likes you,” Sarah said, nodding at Florence.

“She’s purring.” Loren scratched behind her ears. “I didn’t know we were allowed to have pets.”

“Why don’t you take her with you?”

Loren’s eyes shot upwards to meet Sarah’s. “What? No. I can’t do that, she’s yours.”

Sarah shrugged. “Yeah, but she’d help curb the loneliness for when you can’t be with Sidney. Plus she’d be going to a good home, and if it doesn’t work out you can always bring her back.”

She had a point. Loren’s family didn’t have any pets growing up so she always felt a pang of jealousy whenever she’d spend the night at a friend’s who had a cat or dog or even a hamster. Adopting one of her own now that she had her own place had never even crossed her mind. “Are you sure?” Sarah nodded, and as soon as Loren was finished her wine, she made the trip down the hall with Florence in her arms.

As Florence explored her new home, Loren started unpacking. She sorted her laundry into dirty clothes and what needed to be taken to a dry cleaner, and put away what she hadn’t worn or had washed while at her dad’s. She dug her phone from the bottom of her carry-on and plugged it into the charger, stopping only briefly to check for a text or voicemail from Sidney when an alert from her ESPN app came through, informing her that Jordan Staal was now a Carolina Hurricane.

She was speechless. She’d called him earlier in the day to explain why she wasn’t able to make it and to congratulate him and Heather on their wedding and he hadn’t mentioned anything. Sidney had told her about him turning down Pittsburgh’s contract offer, of course, but this knocked the air right out of her lungs.

Still, she couldn’t worry herself over spilled milk. Returning her focus to what she had to do to right her own life, she scrolled through her contacts and hovered above a name she’d kept in her pocket for a rainy day. Before she could lose her nerve, she connected the call, only semi-relieved when it went straight to voicemail.

“Hi, Josh. It’s Loren Hamilton—I think you might remember me. I was hoping you could give me a call back as soon as you can. There were some things I wanted to say and I trust you, so I…sorry, I’m rambling. Just, uh, call me back, maybe? Thank you.”