Page 83 of Counting the Days

“I’m not really drinking right now.”

“Oh, please don’t go. I’ve missed you so much—” Ada said.

“If she wants to go, let her go,” Zoe said.

“I just…think this isn’t very good for me.”

“What isn’t?” Ada asked.

“All this…family, kid stuff. I think I need a longer break from it. I just need some…space.”

“Are you…breaking up with us?” Zoe asked in a very Zoe tone.

“No…. I just need more time by myself.”

“But, Ree Kee, you can’t break up with us, we’re your family,” Ada said.

“…But you’re not, though, right? You’re notactuallymy family. I don’thave a family.And I have to be okay with that. And sometimes I am, it’s just hard when my lack of a family is constantly shoved in my face.”

Rhea watched the hurt flash across her friends’ eyes and wanted to stop talking, but the words had been corked for so long, they kept bubbling out.

“It’s not just about me either. It’s probably not good for you guys to be around someone who’s so…jealous of your lives. I mean, Ada, you didn’t even tell me you started taking maternityphotos. You had to hide a new hobby to spare my feelings. That’s not…healthy.” Rhea was holding back tears with all her might, but they pushed through.

“I just didn’t want to…hurt you,” Ada said softly.

“Exactly. And I don’t want to hurt you guys either, so…I’m gonna go.”

Rhea turned and walked down the street. The sidewalk was full of families with giddy children: Minions chased each other around a front lawn, a fireman and a dinosaur swapped candy brands, Winnie-the-Pooh crammed chocolate in his mouth. Brushing past all of them was an adult woman dressed as a lemon, fragile, perishable, and utterly alone.

—

Rhea walked to Tiny’s andchanged back into her dignity. She ordered a ride home, and by the time it arrived, she was no longer crying; she was officially furious. Tiny had successfully shoved her through the depression stage of grief; anger was now pumping through her veins.

As the gray minivan moved through Tiny’s neighborhood, Rhea lay low in the backseat, not wanting to be seen by the Ada-Tiny-Zoe chain. The look they had given her right before she walked away was forever burned into her memory. As much as she wanted them to understand her pain,she did not want their pity. She was so tired of explaining herself to normal people. Her friends could never understand what she was going through, because they all had moms and dads and siblingson top oftheir husbands and children. You cannot make a wealthy person truly comprehend what it feels like to starve.

“Can we end the ride here?” she asked.

The driver made an annoyed noise at the sudden change of plans, but he pulled over, and Rhea got out on a bustling street.There were as many drunk adults in costumes as there were sugar-high children. She moved with purpose through downtown Santa Monica. Passing under the iconic blue and whiteSanta Monica Yacht Harborsign, she walked on uneven planks of wood to the soundtrack of squealing children and yelling street performers.

She stood in a line and when she got to the front, she said, “One ticket for the Ferris wheel, please.”

She purchased a ticket from the cashier and weaved through tourists, down the pier, toward the giant wheel. She got in another long line and decided to ignore the fact that every other adult was with another adult or at least one child. She didn’t need a child, she didn’t need a boyfriend, she didn’t need friends. She was perfectly capable of riding this circular symbol of happy childhoods and loving families all by herself.

Eventually, she watched the group in front of her cram into their octagon-shaped pod; they were each dressed as a character fromThe Little Mermaid. The wheel lifted them off into the sky; now it was Rhea’s turn. A wave of nerves churned her intestines; her fear of heights was rearing its head, but she pushed through. A Ferris wheel employee, dressed in a cat costume, approached.

“How many?”

“One, please.”

“One?”

“Yep,” Rhea said as she stood a little taller.

The cat called out, “We got a lone rider!” then turned back to Rhea. “Can you stand to the side? We’ll be right with you.”

Rhea stepped out of line and watched the cat help several other groups get into the alternating red and yellow pods: a family dressed as characters fromThe Lion King,then a woman dressed as peanut butter with a man dressed as jelly, then the Addams Family. Rhea was confused about the delay butdetermined to see this through. Every time Rhea saw an octagon lurch upward, she felt nauseated. Her foot took one step toward home, but she refused to follow it.

“Lone rider?” a different employee asked.