Page 11 of Edged
The airport was like its own little city and finding a taxi was near impossible, but well over an hour after my flight had landed, I found myself tucked away in the beachfront hotel room my sister’s fiancé had been gracious enough to book for me. I’d initially protested about the whole trip and the accommodations because it felt so unnecessary and extravagant. We weren’t poor, but we weren’t wealthy, and Mandy had been adamant. Mark, on the other hand, was much closer to wealthy than we would ever be, and nothing Mandy wanted for the wedding was too much for him, including my little vacation to L.A.
Mandy managed a daycare that was currently fully enrolled, but had limited staffing, so if she wasn’t planning her wedding, she was basically always at work. It was one of her good qualities, but would also be her downfall—her dedication to the causes and people she loved. Like when Archer had left us both, she tabled her own grief when I was around, always concerned about how I was taking the loss of my best friend.
But at night, after our parents had gone to bed, I could sometimes hear her cry through the walls, and the guilt over the whole thing had started to eat at me. That was when I started doing the favors for her. Small things at first, just picking up dinner for her on my way home or getting her flowers on her birthday. I turned into the perfect brother, and eventually things went back to normal.
When Mark proposed to her, he asked me for permission first, and that spoke volumes about how important I was to her. Even if I didn’t deserve the ranking. Mark and Mandy were a better couple than she and Archer would have been, even better than he and I would have been, so it was an easy thing to tell him yes. As soon as she got the ring on her finger, she went into full wedding planner mode, and that was how I ended up in California. Los Angeles was Mark's hometown, and a destination style wedding had always been Mandy's dream.
“If I’m thinking of getting married at that hotel, I want to know what the rooms are like,” she had said, and from the stern set of her mouth, I knew fighting would have meant a losing battle.
I was just honestly happy that Mandy had a ring on her finger, Archer’s betrayal long forgotten. At least, I imagined it was as forgotten as that kind of thing could be. I knew that I hadn’t forgotten it at all. But it wasn’t just his behavior, the way he ghosted us both without even a shred of regret, that had stuck with me.
It was my own actions. It was the things I’d asked of him. I’d lost sleep over the way I’d begged him, the way I’d forced him to give me something neither of us had a right to offer or to take. We’d been so young and stupid, but there were still some nights when I laid awake, thinking about the way he’d licked my heartbreak off my skin before he came.
I was so helplessly in love with my best friend back then.
And my sister had loved him too.
Thankfully, after Archer, I’d met Frankie, and while things with him had come to a natural—and easy—end, I learned that it wasn’t always hard and it didn’t always have to hurt. The years I’d spent with Frankie had shown me it was possible to move on and find happiness in things like sharing take-out and watching documentaries until three in the morning.
Everything had not been lost when my best friend turned his back on me.
Frankie had spent the first year with me living in Archer’s shadow and he’d done so with more grace than I deserved. He was patient, generous, and kind, and when I finally saw him in his own light, I fell for him. I loved him so much and so hard, for so long, but over time we grew apart. At first, it had felt like a terrible thing and I clung to him with an unexplainable desperation, but we didn’t eat take-out anymore and we weren’t even interested in the same shows, and much like I’d warmed up to him over time, I cooled over time too.
Frankie was the best life lesson I could have asked for.
To this day, my closest friend.
Me: Jealous?
I sent him a message with the picture of the beach, the ocean fading off into the sky, a single white cloud puffing off toward the corner of the shot.
Frankie: I hate airplanes.
Me: One thing we always had in common
Frankie: Mads is lucky you love her.
My sister was many things, but her relationship with me and what I’d caused in our lives could never be classified as luck.
Me: A free vacation doesn’t sound like a real hardship for me, you know.
Frankie: Yeah, don’t rub it in. See you this weekend, Winny.
I dropped my phone onto the small wooden table beside me and sighed, happy to listen to the waves crashing against the sand for a little while. The growling of my stomach was quick to overtake the background noise, and with a reluctant groan, I grabbed my phone and headed back into the room. The hotel had a restaurant, which I would be taste-testing the following day, so I decided to venture out onto the boardwalk and find something to eat.
It was admittedly nice, but I liked the quiet bustle of home. After high school, I stayed local for college, finished a Bachelor’s degree in finance, which I hadn’t used a day in my life. I’d gotten a part-time job at the college my sophomore year, and by the time I graduated, I was making better money part-time than I would have in something entry level, so I never bothered looking for another job.
I rented a duplex unit at the end of a cul-de-sac and my sister and her fiancé lived five miles across town in the same house we’d grown up in, the only change from childhood being the kitchen renovation she’d done five years earlier. My life was steady and predictable, and I found immense levels of comfort in that.
My thoughts of home distracted me, and I’d wandered farther down the boardwalk than I’d meant. But I found myself in front of a cute little cafe that made coffee and sandwiches, so I ordered an iced latte and a turkey club. Both items came out quickly, and I took them to one of the small wire tables on the boardwalk that faced the sand.
It was busy and loud, and I immediately understood how people could get lost in a place like L.A., swept up into the allure of anonymity, but it wasn’t for me. I knew who I was, and more than that, Ilikedwho I was.
I was accomplished.
I was friendly.
I was decent-looking.
