“Can you believe that shit? I go through the trouble of painting my nails for a damn first date, and this woman has the gall to insult the paint job. Look at these!” She whips up her hands. The nails have been heavily coated with polish, and it’s gathered and bunched in places. I can see a few fingerprints. I resist the urge to laugh, but I can’t not smile. My heart knocks against my sternum. Dawn is gorgeous and kind and genuine—and Jamie’s best friend in the universe, and I should not be thinking about her in any romantic sort of anything.

I swallow. “I think your nails are perfect. They look great. Look at mine.” I hold up Jamie’s shitty chipped nails.

“I swear to god, Jame, you’re getting nail polish remover for your birthday.”

I bark a laugh, unable to hold in my amusement at Jamie’s expense.

“Okay,” I prompt, “keep going, what about the other ones?”

“None of these stories are going to end well, so don’t get too excited about anyone.”

I smile.

She guffaws. “Why are you smiling, you asshole?”

I drop my grin immediately, oh my god, what am I doing? “Sorry, I mean, that must mean you’ve got some good stories.”

She eyes me suspiciously for another long moment. “Really? You have nothing to say about this?” She sticks out her nails and parades them in my face.

“I like the color…”

She gives me stink-eye. “What’s with you?”

What am I saying wrong here? I shrug.

“Really looking forward to the Jamie saga later. You’re being weirder than usual.” She recrosses her legs. “Okay, girl number two’s name was Evian. Like the water. Favorite topping, pasta—on a pizza, Jame.”

40. A Girl Appreciates a Donut

JAMIE

September 3, Thursday Evening

New Jersey

I snatch a jelly donut from the box and place it on a napkin. Papa and I have organized ourselves across from each other at the table, with a red-and-black checkerboard between us. Papa watches me curiously, like I’m an animal at the zoo.

“What?” I ask.

He raises his eyebrows. “Nothing,” he says before lifting his plain-looking donut and dipping it into the decaf coffee he made himself.

I smother my pending comment, It doesn’t look like nothing, and wait for Papa to lead the conversation. He lifts the donut and takes a bite of the saturated portion.

I grab my donut and take a giant bite where the jelly is falling out. Sugar scraps across my cheeks as raspberry heaven explodes in my mouth. I shoot Papa a closed-mouth smile with my mouth full.

He nods to me. “You move first.”

I pick a piece and try not to litter the board with the sugar granules sticking to my hands. Papa quickly follows with his own move.

“So how are you doing? How was your retreat?” he opens.