Harper nods. “We neededmajordamage control, and her firm sends in this reserved, soft-spoken CPA, and I’m about to request a more bullish replacement, but she sits down and starts spouting off numbers and financial strategies I’ve never even heard of, and, well… I quickly realized the quiet mouse was a bulldog in disguise.” Harper laughs. “No one is more passionate about proper money management than our Brynn.”
“Numbers are the bedrock of society,” Brynn tells us, completely straight-faced.
Harper and I share a smile, then she asks, “What about you two?”
“That’s also a funny story,” I say with a small chuckle, recalling the memory fondly. “Her family moved into our neighborhood the summer before second grade. I had a lemonade stand at the end of the street, and the day they moved in, Brynn walked over and told me I could make more profit if I had items to upsell. I had no clue what she meant, so she sat down and created an entire business plan in her unicorn notebook. We became partners in the lemonade stand over the rest of the summer, and between her business acumen and my marketing skills, we made enough money to buy matching JanSport backpacks for the first day of school.”
“Oh, now that’s precious.” Harper places a hand to her heart. “I can picture little Brynn now, using a ruler to make a ledger in her notebook to keep track of sales.”
Brynn blushes. “Well, if you don’t keep track, mistakes can be made!”
“And that’s why we love you.” Harper squeezes her hand, then says, “I’m jealous you two have been friends for so long. But it must be hard living so far apart.”
“It is,” we both say in unison.
“Is this your first time visiting Brynn in New York?”
I shift in my seat. “No, but it’s been a while.”
“A decade,” Brynn adds softly, staring at her unfinished crepe, the bingo game forgotten.
Harper’s eyes widen in surprise. “But you’ve seen each other since then?”
“A few times,” Brynn says. “When I’ve gone back home to see my parents. Quincy only visited me once when I was in college.”
“Well, you’re here now.” Harper flashes me a warm smile, as if she senses the underlying tension between us. “Brynn says you’re fulfilling some sort of bucket list?”
“Yes,” I say simply, suddenly not in the mood to elaborate as I watch Brynn pick at her plate, pushing the same chunk of cantaloupe back and forth through a river of syrup.
I hate to see her upset, but especially when it’s because of something I’ve done… orhaven’tdone.
“So, what are some of the items on your list?” Harper asks, single-handedly salvaging our brunch.
“I have to take a dance class,” I say, forcing a brightness into my voice, hoping to lighten the mood. “And learn a foreign language.”
“Which one?” Harper leans forward with interest.
“Um, I haven’t really decided yet.”
“Well, let me know when you do. I’m fluent in four languages, so I’d be happy to help you practice, if you choose one I know.”
“Wow! Four?” I’m duly impressed. Is there anything this womancan’tdo?
“I guess five, if you count English,” she says like it’s no big deal. “Plus French, Italian, Spanish, and German.”
“That’s incredible. How did you learn so many?”
“I picked them up here and there.” She gives a nonchalant wave of her hand. “It helped that I lived in Europe for a few years.”
“That’s so cool. Brynn and I always talked about backpacking through Europe. We even planned a whole route, but then…” I trail off, realizing that was yet another time I’d let her down.
Brynn scoots back her chair. “Excuse me for a sec. I have to use the bathroom.”
A silence settles across the table as she leaves, and Harper politely pretends to be enthralled by the pat of butter shaped like a rose.
Hoping to relieve some of the awkward tension, I ask her, “Do you have a bucket list?”
“I used to. I made one in my twenties. But I’ve since crossed everything off. Now, I have a new list with just one goal on it.”