Free Two Weeks by Andrea Wolfe Page B

the rest of your life thinking about it all the time and never make any real difference." Her rambling, long sentence makes me burst out laughing.
    "I guess that's kind of true," I say, trying to remain composed. I press my head hard against the cushioned deck chair behind me. The sun is setting, and given the fact that it's summer, that means it's probably around nine.
    "What do you have to lose?" she asks. "You're too young to settle down. I know you thought you were ready, but hell, how many serious boyfriends have you actually had?" She takes a casual sip of her wine. "People change as they get older. They change all the time, really. Some people are better at dealing with that than others. Max clearly sucks at it."
    Liz is beating at all of the defenses I've built up during my time with Max. I'm suddenly filled with an aching confusion I don't quite understand, almost a feeling of wanderlust.
    I wonder if I was just settling for Max the whole time or if we actually had something.
    Liz seems to be watching me in amusement. Or maybe it's bemusement.
    The more I think about it, the more I feel like I wouldn't have the time to find someone else, not with my busy lifestyle. And it's clear that if I stick with this job, I'll be set for life. I'm already making a great salary, and if I get another promotion—which is very likely in a couple of years—I'll be making even better money. My insurance is good, my retirement plan is good.
    In the grand scheme of things, the next step is definitely settling down—but now it isn't even an option.
    "What if he says no?" I ask. "I'm just going to get too attached to him or something and it's gonna kill me when I leave."
    Liz runs a hand through her strawberry blonde hair and smiles. She's always been incredibly cute, and the sunset behind her head seriously complements her looks. "Those are just the risks you have to take." She finishes off her glass of wine. "Look, I know you probably think I'm all free love and all that bullshit because of how I was raised, and while it's kind of true, I'm still just looking for the right guy like anybody else. I'm just a little more... open about it." She chuckles quietly to herself.
    "No, no," I say. "I wasn't thinking that. And my method wasn't working either." I shrug. "I did all I could to make that guy happy, and look where it got me."
    "Well, you did all of that because you were in a relationship. The point of a rebound is just to have a good time with someone—without all of the seriousness." She gives me an evil smile. "And there won't be any awkwardness with his family."
    "You're terrible!" I snap.
    "I'm also drunk," she retorts.
    "You can only blame so much on the alcohol. Maybe you're mean too," I say jokingly.
    Liz stretches out her legs and uses the table with her empty glass as an ottoman. "No, that was a bit harsh, I'm sorry."
    I take a sip of my wine. "Damn right you'd better be sorry."
    She smiles. "What the hell are you gonna do in Boston right now, Ally? You don't want to see Max, but he's going to try to talk to you. Your best friend is pregnant and the dad is your now ex-boyfriend. Boston sucks right now. So does Red Lake, but I know you'll appreciate having your family around instead of just co-workers." Liz pauses to stretch out her arms before continuing.
    I fall momentarily pensive, digesting her words in silence, just as I do the beautiful summer night. It's strange to me that I'm not reeling from what happened with Max, but I realize that I don't want to shed any tears for that asshole. Still, the numbness is unusual.
    "And I'm pretty drunk," Liz reminds me again. "I'm sorry if I sound like a crazy person. You can tell me to shut up if you'd like."
    I skip right by her remarks as if she never said anything at all. "It's so weird that I'm not in more pain about this," I say softly. "I guess it's because it's so huge that I can barely comprehend it. It doesn't even feel like a real thing." Liz says nothing, aware that I'm