ELIZABETH
Friday, August 25th 2017
I watched the green go by, just as I used to watch the towering buildings go by. Only I wasn't in a cab or a town car, and I certainly wasn't in New York City. I was so tired, but there was so much to see. It was a new world, and I wanted to take it all in. My mother hummed like a beautiful songbird in the driver's seat as she navigated the country roads like an expert. Even being six, I was too young to understand that she was an expert. This was her home, where she grew up, rebelled...and then finally fled. But now, she was back—we were back. New York was deep in our rearview, as was my father, my home, my friends and my life. As if she could read my mind, my mother smiled her breathtaking smile at me. "We're going to have a good life here, baby. I promise..."
My eyes flutter open and I lift my head from my pillow. Smiling to myself, I think back to that day. I remember being so afraid and so excited all at the same time, for we had entirely started over. The blissful reverie that I'd awoken in, however, is quickly diminished when I take a look around my room. Laundry is scattered around like a tornado came in and whisked it about, only the tornado was me and I hadn't done a load in days. Grumbling, I slide off the bed and stretch my arms high up above my head. Once again, I choose to overlook my laundry and I walk downstairs. Early autumn in Shoreham was beautiful. The leaves had already begun to change, but the weather wasn't too brisk yet.
My mum was in the garden, her hair pinned up with a pen and her easel propped up in front of her. Her singing is whimsical as it flows through the open window and I smile upon hearing it. I pour myself a cup of coffee before sauntering out to join her. "Morning." She doesn't take her eyes away from her canvas.
"Morning, darling." I sit down in the chaise lounge. "Sleep well?"
"Mhm...I had a dream about the day we moved here."
"Oh, what a good day that was."
"God, I can't believe it was fifteen years ago." She stops painting now and looks over at me, her legs twisted up, like a pretzel.
"You were so little...all you'd ever known was the city."
"And now I feel like this is all I've ever known."
"Well, it is, in a way."
"It's weird to think that...once upon a time, I was a little six year old, living in one of the biggest cities in the world, and now, I'm twenty-one and too afraid to visit my best friend in London."
"Is he still bothered about that?"
"Yes." I answer, "But he knows it's difficult for me to get my shifts covered, so we've come to an understanding of sorts." She giggles.
"Oh, that boy."
"He'll be the death of me, I swear." I smile though, thinking about Harry.
"Don't be dramatic, Bunny."
"What? He will be!" She rolls her eyes.
"Has he brought up university any more?"
"Of course he has. He brings it up all the time, and he doesn't listen to me when I explain my reason behind not going."
"I think he just wants you there with him, love."
"Well, I want him to be here, but you don't hear me poking and prodding him about it every time we talk." Somehow I feel like she'll always take his side, even though she could care less about my choice to skip out on a college education, she adores Harry. As I watch her smirk at me, I groan and stand up. "I'm going to be late for work."
"I love you!" She sing-songs as I march away. "Have a good day!" I wiggle my fingers in the air and continue on towards my bedroom.
+
I skillfully dish out each of my customer's breakfast plates and by the time I'm finished with the first wave, I'm slightly out of breath. "So, you know that fit guy I told you about?"
"Which one?" I tease my friend as she comes back from delivering a tray of food to an awaiting table.
"Oh, you're impossible—the one I met in the park! Geoffrey, he's got dark hair...green eyes. Such a looker."
"Yes, yes, I remember him."
"Well, he plays drums in a band and they're headlining at Walt's tonight!"
"And you're telling me this, why?"
"Because, we're going, Elizabeth." I roll my eyes, "And please don't say no! I need my wing lady tonight."
"Fine, but you're buying me a drink...or three."
"Deal!" She seems more than ecstatic, "Oh, and the lead singer is this gorgeous bloke...he looks like Aladdin with tattoos."
"Okay?"
"And he's fit!"
"I repeat, okay...?"
"I think you'd like him."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes, so dress up, show those tiny little tïts off and have fun with me, please?"
"You're very annoying." I sigh.
"I'm well aware. So, you'll come?"
"Yes, fine, I'm in." She jumps up and down.
"Thank you! Oh, we're going to have fun, I know it."
"I'm sure." I'm clearly not enthused, but I try to mentally talk myself into it. All I've been doing lately is working, and hanging out with my mum and Anne, who are inseparable. My day goes a little bit like this...wake up, chat with mum, go to work, go home, drink wine with mum and Anne, go to sleep, repeat. It's a cycle I've grown far too accustomed to, but I do enjoy it, so I've yet to try and change things up. I suppose now is as good a time as ever. As the hours at work trudge by, my mind becomes more and more enraptured in the idea of a much needed girl's night out. By the time we take our aprons off and walk out of the diner, I look to Margot. "Tonight should be fun, and I've chosen to go in with an open mind." Once again, she hops around like a jack rabbit and chatters excitedly about what we're going to wear.
+
"What are they called?"
"Fretless West, I think?" I answer his question to the best of my ability.
"What in the hell kind of—what does that name even mean?" There is humor in his tone and I find myself chuckling.
"I have no idea." I look at myself in the mirror, holding up a blouse in front of me, with the hand that isn't holding the phone to my ear. "But, you know Margot. Always looking for a good time."
"And who better to show her one than Fretless West?" My chuckles turn into laughter and he joins in after his sarcasm.
"I think our moms are going."
"Jesus..."
"I know."
"Why?"
"Because Anne was here when I got home and they already started on a bottle of wine, so when I told them they said they wanted in. They're tipsy and ready to party, I guess."
"My goodness." I toss the blouse back on my bed, deciding against it.
"I have no clue what to wear." His voice has changed, as if he's gone from standing up to laying down.
"What about those navy velvet shorts that you've got...you wore them with the polka-dot tights a couple of weeks back."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm." He says, "I like them on you. And just wear like, dunno, a top or something."
"Should I not wear a top?"
"Oh, you know what I mean, you cheeky girl."
"What are you doing tonight?" I ask him, hopping to a new subject.
"Think I might go out with some lads from my class, but I haven't really decided yet." He pauses, "When are you coming to visit me?"
"Well...you're coming home next weekend, right?"
"That is...besides the point. You haven't seen my new place, Elizabeth." He scolds me and I pinch the bridge of his nose.
"You know weekends are hard for me."
"Then come during the week."
"Why would I come during the week when you have classes during the week?"
"I'd make time for you, obviously."
"I'll try and come soon, okay?" My attempt to move on from this topic, that will most-likely turn into an argument within seconds, is bleak, but it seems to do the trick. "I'm excited to see you next weekend."
"M'excited to see you too. Maybe we can go see the Fretless Tests." I fall back on my mattress.
"Fretless West."
"Yeah, yeah." His chuckle is low, "Be careful tonight, yeah? And don't let our mums go home with any knobs."
"I shall do my best."
"Good girl."
"Whatever you're doing, be safe doing it." I add in before we hang up.
"Always. Night, night, Beth."
"Goodnight, Harry." I press the end call button and sit up. My room, unsurprisingly, is even messier than when I left it this morning. Again, I ignore it, and rummage through my drawers. Soon enough, I'm dressed in the velvet shorts and polka-dot tights that Harry likes so much, my hair is tied up in a low bun and I'm ready for the long night ahead of me. Anne and my mum are also ready downstairs. "Harry says neither of you are allowed to go home with knobs tonight." They seem to think this is the funniest shit they've heard all day, but I assume the wine is heightening the comedy in my words.