Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 131486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
I lift my glass, and a sparkling wave of glasses rises along with mine.
“So here’s to another year, another chance. Make the most of it.” I look around the room until my eyes collide with Josiah’s, which are fixed on me. “And may all your pain be champagne.”
People all over the room lift glasses to their lips, sip, gulp, get the bubbly down just in time for the countdown.
“Here we go, everybody!” I laugh into the mic. “Ten, nine, eight.”
I stop counting, letting the crowd take over and look up to the landing, where Hendrix, Soledad and her girls, and Deja still sit. I raise my glass and blow a kiss to the table. They all return the salute, except Deja, who stares at me unsmiling, but not in that resentful way. She stares at me like I’m a riddle, something she’s still trying to figure out. I’m trying to figure her out too. Maybe this year we’ll decode each other.
“Three!” the crowd yells. “Two! One! Happy New Year!”
“Auld Lang Syne” blasts through the sound system, party horns squawk everywhere, and lovers turn the page with a kiss. I accept hugs from every direction, and allow my eyes to stray across the room, where Vashti tips up to kiss Josiah’s cheek. I’ve imagined them kissing. Hell, after seeing Vashti at his house, I’ve imagined them doing a lot more than that, but seeing her back in his arms tonight was an unbearable reality.
“Time to go.” Hendrix appears beside me, brandishing a bottle of champagne. “After-party at my place.”
“Yeah,” Soledad says. “Edward’s taking the girls home. Let’s make the most of the night.”
“Okay.” I hazard another look over to the bar, but Josiah and Vashti are no longer there. “Let’s get out of here.”
I grab a bottle of my own from a passing server. I don’t alert anyone that I’m leaving. I’ve spent the last few weeks planning and making sure everyone knew exactly what to do before, during, and after this event. They got this.
Outside, I’m unprepared for the cold’s blustery greeting when we step onto the sidewalk.
“These shoes were not made for cobblestones,” Hendrix complains, pointing to her stilettos.
“‘We’ll walk home,’ she said,” Soledad reminds her in a pitch-perfect imitation of Hendrix. “‘It’s not that far,’ she said.”
“My apartment is around the corner.” Hendrix shivers, pulling her cape around herself more tightly. “But Mama’s too pretty for frostbite. I ain’t losing toes for y’all, so come on. Let’s go toss our coins into the fountain so we can kill the rest of this champagne at my place.”
I haul in a long draught of wintry air, allowing the cold to clear my mind from the disturbing image of Josiah and Vashti in the cellar.
“You okay?” Hendrix asks softly.
“Yeah.” I turn to look at her. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You just seemed a little…” Soledad side-glances me. “I don’t know, sad at times tonight.”
“Everything’s fine.” I offer them a wry smile and point to the fountain at the center of the Square, ringed with people tossing in their coins. “Let’s wish.”
“Remember,” Soledad says. “You can’t tell us your wish or it won’t come true.”
The three of us stand at the rim of the fountain, each staring into the gurgling water with sober expressions. Soledad tosses in her coin and then Hendrix follows suit. I reach into the silk-lined pocket of my dress and finger the coin I brought specifically for this moment, but my hand wanders instead to my neck. I pull out the gold chain with the wheel charm and my old wedding ring. Lifting it over my head, I cup it in my palm. Still warm from my skin, it’s heavy with the dead weight of old wishes. It’s time for a new start, right? So why hold on to this symbol of an old love from my former life when it’s so obvious Josiah has no interest in looking back? Without thinking too hard, I toss it to the center of the fountain. It’s not a night for wishes. It’s a night washed in my mistakes and haunted by the things I cannot change. Tomorrow may be for resolutions, but tonight is doused in regrets.
My eyes sting, and I hope my friends will assume the tears are from the wind and cold. We don’t ask one another what we wished, but turn away from the fountain in silence, each of us holding a bottle of champagne and our own counsel. We’ve only taken a few steps when the chilly wind carries a whisper to my ears.
Happy New Year, baby.
He didn’t take it back. He didn’t stutter. What if that moment with Vashti in his arms was innocent? What if the most right moments tonight were the ones we shared alone in that cellar when our lips almost met? When our hearts beat like talking drums through our chests? It hadn’t felt like nothing, hadn’t felt like things were over and done between us, even though that night was supposed to be the end. Could it be that what I thought were ashes were actually embers, waiting to be rekindled?