“Hunter, no, no!” I called out, finding him in the guest bathroom, tangled in a roll of toilet paper he’d managed to knock off the small cabinet that held extra supplies. He rolled back at the sound of my voice and wagged his tail, a piece of tissue stuck to his fur and waved like a flag. “Heavens, little mutt.” I scooped him out of the mess, bunched up the paper and tossed it in the silver trash can beside the cabinet, and took him out of the room, closing the door behind me.
“On second thought, maybe you should keep him while I go on my vacation…” I announced, walking back into the living room. “I don’t think I’m gonna get any peace or quiet with this little guy around.”
Rachel laughed as I went to the French doors and put Hunter out on the patio. He yelped at the door when I closed it and gave me a pitifully sad look before waddling away to play with his squeaky fire hydrant toy. “He’ll grow out of it.”
“God, I hope so. I swear, I don’t know what I was thinking…” I bit back a smile as Hunter tossed the toy aside in favor of chasing his own tail.
“You’re crazy about him and you know it.” Rachel got off the couch and padded into the kitchen. While we no longer shared the condo, she kept her key, and made herself at home whenever she came over to visit. We had shared the condo as roommates for two years, before she’d been offered her job in Newport Beach. Most of the time, I was convinced Rachel was half human, half mermaid. She loved the beach, and when the opportunity had come her way to get even closer, she had jumped at it. Luckily, Newport Beach was only about half an hour away, which meant that even with California’s famously terrible traffic, we still managed to see each other at least once a week.
I heard the sound of the fridge opening and I tore my eyes off Hunter to go assist Rachel in putting together something for dinner. “I brought butternut squash ravioli and marinara,” I said, digging through the canvas grocery bag on the counter.
“Mmm! And I brought…this!” I turned as she produced a chilled bottle of wine.
“Great minds,” I said, pulling out an identical bottle from the bag.
Rachel laughed and swapped it out for the cold one. “Starting your vacay off right! That’s my girl.” She poured two generous glasses while I got a pot of water boiling and worked on getting a salad together in my favorite bamboo salad bowl. “Did you get everything done at work?”
“Yeah.” I smiled, still not quite sure how I’d managed it all. “It was serious madness, but yes. I can happily say that when I closed my office door, it was with a clear conscious.”
Rachel set a glass beside my cutting board. “Come on, let’s toast.” I lifted my glass to hers. “To my best friend, and the most brilliant CPA in the biz!”
I laughed and clicked my glass with hers. We both drank and when Rachel lowered her glass to the counter, her expression changed. “Seriously, though, Holly. I’m super proud of you. I know that you don’t like schmoopy stuff, so I try to keep it to a minimum, but I want you to know I think you’re amazing and by far, one of the strongest women I know.”
The tears that I’d stuffed back at the office, rapidly came back to get me at Rachel’s kind words.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Rachel erupted, as a tear slipped past my self-control. She fanned her own eyes, never one to let others cry alone.
“It’s okay, Rach. Thanks for being so sweet. Sometimes I feel like I’m still so out of my depth with everything. I’m glad that, at least on the outside, I look like I have it together,” I said, trying to lighten the mood with my joke. “After the divorce…I didn’t think I’d ever put the pieces back together again. And now, on the other side of that, three years removed, it feels pretty damn good.”
Rachel nodded in agreement, unable to stifle her tears. I smiled at her and let her wrap me into a tight embrace. Rachel’s heart-on-her-sleeve personality was always one of my favorite things about her. I never worried that she was hiding something or holding back. I didn’t even mind turning into a puddle with her from time to time.
“Thanks, Rach.” I said into her shoulder, my voice muffled by her wavy, sun bleached tresses. “Can we eat now?”
She pulled back, her signature carefree smile back in place. “Of course! It’s a happy day. No more tears.” She dabbed away the remnants of her tears with a paper napkin and went back to work.