Page 80 of Later Bloom

And she cranes her neck until their lips touch, and she never wants to stop kissing him.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Nine years later

The car windows are blurred with rain, the street beyond the windshield streaked by the steady rhythm of the wipers. In the passenger seat, Aubrey bends over to tie up the strap of her heel.

To her left, Maggie says, “We’re nearly there.” They take a left to pull into a half-full parking lot. “I can see the door!” she squeals, her nails rapping on the wheel.

Aubrey sits up to watch the building come into view. “Jesus, it’s been a while,” she says, mostly to herself.

Last time it was weird in a different way, when she was twenty-seven and felt like she’d barely just left this place, had hardly changed at all. Now she can’t find much in common with the last time she set foot here. She feels like a mom driving in after dinner for a parent-teacher meeting. In the little purse on her lap, she feels for the weight of her phone. She’d turned it off when she got in the car, at Maggie’s insistence. She knows Aubrey too well, knows she wants to check if anyone’s tried to call or text her.

“Are you with me?” Maggie asks as the engine clicks off, and Aubrey realizes she’s staring off into space.

“Sorry,” she says with a pitiful smile. “I am, yes. I swear.”

Maggie’s gaze drops to Aubrey’s hands, tucked under herself. “You got your fingers crossed?”

The sound of their laughter melts in with the rain as they step out of the car. It’s a short walk to the entrance but already Aubrey’s hair is wet, and her coat, and her shoes. Their heels click on the pavement and the rain is relentless. Aubrey slows at the top of the stairs, but Maggie rushes on without a second look at the ridiculous carvings on the doors.

Aubrey dabs her forehead with care. She worries for a second about the creases in her powder, the rain messing up her makeup, but only for a second. She doesn’t really care what these people will think of her—they’ve all aged the same, grown the same.

“Come on,” Maggie says, one foot inside and the other still out, her entire body used to prop the door open.

Behind them, a group of three women is also rushing through the parking lot. Maggie presses on, “Get in, for shit’s sake. I’ll get us something to drink.”

Inside, nothing has changed except for the people. Aubrey slips her coat off with a polite smile at the surrounding crowd. She thinks they’ve all changed so much. They probably think the same of her, and themselves. She crosses her hands over her chest and makes sure, without really thinking about it, that her ring finger is showing.

The hall isn’t arranged exactly like last time, but it’s close enough. It’s weird how the last reunion is what she thinks back to now, and not the last days she spent as a student in this place.

Maggie reappears by Aubrey's side with bright eyes and two glasses of champagne.

“I’m so glad you came,” she says with a relieved sigh. They clink their glasses together and take a long sip. “I’m even more glad I didn’t have to organize this one.”

Aubrey studies the faces surrounding them. The place is full—surely almost everyone is here already. “Seen anyone good yet?”

“Mhm.” Maggie shakes her head no. “But I checked the RSVP’s, and apparently Victor won’t even make it, so I’m not sure there’s anyone good I could see.”

“Remember last time? You dreaded him showing up.”

“Yes, well. Rightfully so.” Maggie shrugs, her attention obviously stolen by the people around them. “But I would’ve been glad to catch up, this time. I kinda wanted to see which one of us turned out the best.”

“Obviously it’s you.”

Maggie snorts. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Everyone is on their own this time as well, no spouses or children allowed, so it’s hard to see at a glance where everyone’s at. It’s a nice feeling, reminiscent of days far behind Aubrey. She used to like it, that people couldn’t tell how lonely she was just by looking at her. Or maybe they could tell, but at least it wasn’t outright obvious, like a badge stitched to her shirt that announced to everyone she didn’t have a funny story to tell about an irritating boyfriend yet.

She smiles at the thought. Next to her, Maggie waves at someone and asks how they’ve been from across the room. Aubrey looks down at her hand, then at her bag for just a second. She misses home already, though staying with Maggie for a few days has felt like stepping back in time. In the weight of her eyelids, she still feels the wine they drank yesterday.

It only takes a minute for Ivory to show up, heading straight for Maggie with arms wide and a face that hardly moves now. She looks eerily unchanged by time, still a dead ringer for Julia Roberts, except maybe she looks more tired now, and her hair is a somewhat different shade of red.

“Ladies!” she exclaims, standing before Aubrey and Maggie as if awaiting appraisal. She and Aubrey don’t hug, or comment on how long it’s been. Ivory’s hands are empty and she moves slowly to drop them on her belly. “So nice seeing you here tonight. It’s a shame we couldn’t bring our husbands, huh?”

Maggie snorts. “Real shame, yeah. How’ve you been, love?”

“Oh, you know.” Ivory giggles. “Wonderful, honestly. Got the whole squad waiting for me at home, the only one I got to bring tonight is this one.” She points at the top of her belly, which is hardly protruding at all. Aubrey and Maggie hurry to congratulate her. Ivory tells them about Steve and their recent five-year anniversary, how amazing he is, and while she speaks their circle grows bigger, with women whispering “Hi!” to each other as they attach themselves to the conversation and gasp at Ivory’s stories. Julie, Marianne, and Rachel are there, strangers that Aubrey recognizes in an instant. It’s so funny to reunite like this, with people she hasn’t seen in years and yet still knows so quickly, so easily. She’ll know them forever, and then not know them at all, recognizing their faces while not having the slightest clue who they’ve become or what they do with their time. They used to share the majority of their lives together. Now they smile at each other politely and pretend not to find it odd.