Charmed Thirds_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [101]
Bethany and G-Money aren't here. Now that Marin is getting older, they've decided to perpetuate the Santa myth at their own home. This is the first time they haven't so much as stopped by on Christmas Day, and I don't think it's any coincidence that Bethany chose this year to start a new tradition. As much as she's supposedly supportive about their decision to “live for themselves” she has not adjusted well to the change of address. I don't think it hit her until she saw 12 Forest Drive all packed up and empty.
“It's like the end of my childhood,” she said wistfully. Which is weird, because you'd think that being a wife and mother would have done it already. I said as much to her.
“Here's a secret, Jessie,” she said, leaning in. “You get older, but you don't ever feel grown up.”
“You don't feel grown up?” I asked.
“I feel more tired,” she said as she popped up to chase after Marin before she raced into the street. “People confuse the two.”
My grandmother Gladdie isn't here because she's dead. I frequently think of her, but especially around the holidays. I wonder what she would think about how I'm spending her inheritance. Spending my life.
Bridget isn't here because she doesn't live across the street anymore. But Bridget is just the latest example (Hope, and yes, Marcus . . .) of how location, location, location is not only the number one rule of real estate, but of relationships as well. Was it only a year ago that we said we'd always be friends, because it seemed unfathomable that we'd ever not live right across the street from each other? You would think that we would have seen a lot of each other since her transfer to NYU, but we haven't. It's incredible how localized one's life can become in a city with arguably the best mass transit in the world. There's life below Fourteenth Street (where she and Pepe are) and there's life well above (where I am). And though it's only a subway ride away, it's a ride that we both (apparently) have been too lazy to make. I can only imagine that Bridget and Pepe are enjoying the benefits of cohabitation after spending so much time away from each other. See? Location, location, location.
Another part of it, I think, was that I don't like the idea of trying to replace Dexy with Bridget. I feel like I'm always trying to substitute one lost best friend for another, like I tried to replace Jane with Dexy. They're all just stand-ins for Hope, really, who is just so happy and well-adjusted at school that I've felt no need to intrude. She doesn't need my negative influence on her very positive life, and she must agree because we're both showing a mutual disregard of the Totally Guilt-Free Guidelines for Keeping in Touch.
I miss her. And yet I'm relieved that she doesn't miss me.
the thirty-first
It seemed inappropriate to worry about returning my Christmas gifts when the tsunami has caused inconceivable suffering for hundreds of thousands of people half a world away. But it's been more than a week now, and I've accepted that life in Pineville—such as it is—goes on and so should I. I wasn't alone in my thinking because the mall was packed, especially for New Year's Eve. Apparently, Americans turn to retail therapy for the answers to all their questions concerning the frailty of human existence.
This, of course, caused some inconveniences. Well, one inconvenience, really. An inconvenience by the name of Sara.
“Omigod! We're both quote total losers unquote!” she said, cornering me outside J.Crew.
“Uh, yeah. With all the stuff going on in the world right now, I'm just too sad to go out this year . . .”
Sara guffawed. She's like a set of Bose speakers. Incredible volume in a very small package. “Omigod! I'm totally kidding. I'm totally partying tonight!”
“Uh,” I replied.
“I had a quote wardrobe malfunction unquote and had to buy a new dress,” she explained, holding a bag from Armani Exchange.
“Uh.”
“I mean, what kind of loser stays in on New Year's Eve?” Then she