Page 44 of Not You Again
She’s in a white T-shirt and long, electric blue pleated skirt. One she no doubt made for herself; is that skirt hanging in our closet at home? The spray of freckles across her face is gorgeous, even in a photo. Her hair is dangling over her shoulder in a haphazard braid, some glasses perched on top of her head. Her lips are in the shape of a round vowel as she’s pointing to her tablet, nested in a cloud of white, shimmery fabric, like she’s talking to someone just out of frame. A bride perhaps.
It’s Andie in her element, and it’s stunning to witness in this still. What would it be like to experience in person?
“Yes,” I croak, reaching for my water, “she is.”
Mom turns off the screen and sets my phone down in the middle of the table. “Is she good to you?”
I rest my hand on the table and stare at my wedding band. It’s not that Andie has been awful to me, it’s that she won’t let me be good to her. I swallow and admit to my mom, “She won’t let me in, and I don’t know what to do.”
Mom nods sagely, then slowly stands, leaning heavily on the table. She picks up her plate and gives me a determined look. “Don’t forget you need to let her in, too.”
CHAPTER NINETEENANDIE
It’s been a long day at work, and I’m not in the mood to film. But Cassidy clips on my mic in the apartment complex parking garage and follows me to the clubhouse, where a group cooking class awaits.
There’s a full studio setup in the clubhouse kitchen—lights and boom mics and cameras set up to get several angles. It’s not only Cassidy and Steve in the wings, but the producers and camera people assigned to the other couples too.
And Kit got out of it. Somehow, he doesn’t have to be here. After our meeting with Dr. Leon, when Cassidy gave us our schedule for the coming weeks, Kit said he had to have dinner with his mom tonight. He did reveal that his mom was sick and fighting cancer, so the production team said this event was okay to miss.
It’s not fair, really.
I could have had dinner with his mom, too. But then I guess the cameras would have followed, and since she wasn’t at our wedding, I’m assuming the cameras are what she’s trying to avoid.
“Hey, Andie.” Jamie greets me with a smile. “Long day?”
“The longest.” He hands me a red apron, and I slip it over my head.
“I don’t remember you saying,” Leslie pipes up from behind Jamie, “what it is you do for work.”
I do my best to smile. I’ve been designing dresses professionally for years now, but it still feels fraudulent to call myself a designer. “I, um, design wedding dresses.”
“Oh my God.” Kendra bounces over from the other end of the kitchen. “Are you the same Andie from the TikToks?”
“I like sharing my process.” I shrug, heat rising in my cheeks.
“It’s so interesting to see all that goes into making a dress.” Kendra opens a bottle of wine and tips it in offering to all of us. “I had no idea all those things had to happen behind the scenes.”
“I used to design menswear,” Jamie says as Kendra fills his wine glass. “Back in the day, you know. As a hobby, I mean.”
“Oh?” I’m surprised to meet someone else who understands being a creative who works with their hands all the time. “What do you do now?”
He shrugs. “Not much right now. Some freelance writing here and there.”
“He’s trying to figure out what he wants to be when he grows up.” Leslie ties his apron on. The look he gives Jamie is incredibly long-suffering considering we’ve all only been together for about ten days.
Jamie’s eyes lose a touch of their sparkle. Instead of responding, he sips on his wine.
“Hey, me too, man.” Patrick offers Jamie a fist bump. “How the hell are we supposed to know what we want to do when there’s so much out there?”
“I thought you were a firefighter.” I narrow my eyes at him.
“For now, yeah.” He secures his apron, too. “But eventually my body isn’t going to be able to do that anymore. Where’s Kit?”
“Dinner with his mom.” I wave it off and take a sip of my wine. “He’ll join us later.” I think. I hope. He’d better. At least this wine is good. I can already feel its warmth leaching into my sore muscles.
A man with tattoos up and down both arms strolls in and announces he’s worked as a private chef for celebrities and athletes for a decade, and tonight he’s going to teach us how to make pizza. I’m glad it’s nothing too complicated, especially since I’m on my own.
Getting the dough to come together is easy enough. So is bringing the tomatoes and seasonings to a simmer on the stove. It’s when it’s time to begin shaping dough that it gets difficult.