Begin Again | on hold

seven

"The fourth? Isn't that a Thursday?" Sylvia asks as she whisks eggs into oblivion for Sunday brunch.

"The fourth of June. It's a Sunday. I know it's still six weeks away but that gives us plenty of time to think of an excuse not to go," Martha says.

"I think the fact that it's only six weeks away is excuse enough," her wife says with a huff. From what Sunny can gather, they've been invited to the wedding of one of Martha's colleagues, someone neither of her parents much likes. "That screams last minute addition to me. Probably had a few cousins RSVP as no and they're trying to fill up the tables. Tell her, I don't know, your psychic warned you about a wedding so you don't want to risk it."

Sylvia snorts. Sunny pulls over the paper and flips through to the horoscope section, running her finger down the page until she lands on Libra. "Here you go – your horoscope says you need to pull away from the noise and focus on yourself and your own emotional state at the moment. I think that's code for stay away from the weddings of people you don't like."

"Shall I cut that out and stick it to my RSVP?" Martha laughs as she peers at the horoscope and then taps Aquarius. "Hey, Sylv, apparently you need to tidy the house today."

"Ha. Fuck off," she says, whisking a little too hard. Egg splashes the countertop. "What does it actually say?"

"You should focus on cultivating your family relationships and pay attention to the environment you surround yourself with."

"Sounds more like a family tidying sesh to me." She pours the egg into a pan of hot butter and stirs, scrambling the mixture. "What does yours say, Sunny? Anything about clearing the air with your girlfriend?"

Joking she may be, but Sunny gets a hot, prickly feeling in her chest when she moves her finger to Gemini and reads what it says out loud. "There are conversations to be had. Examine the events of the last week and know that relief will come in the form of openness and creativity."

It hits a bit too close to home.

"Well." Sylvia looks over. "You know I think this stuff is utter bollocks, but ... that sounds accurate for you, sweetie."

"Yeah." Sunny grimaces. For two days, she has hung out with her parents and avoided everything else. It's hard to care about things like work when she still feels so disconnected from this life – a dangerous feeling to have, considering she's pretty sure she's stuck here. Sooner or later she's going to have to take it seriously. But not now. Not yet.

At this rate, she's not sure she'll have a job or a girlfriend when she goes back to Black Sands. That would almost be a relief.

But it would defeat the object of being here. This is, according to that fucking well, what she wished for. What would be the point of all this if she doesn't even talk to the girlfriend fate has gifted her with?

"How about this: today we will enjoy the weather and focus on pleasure, and this evening, I'll drive you back to your flat and you face the music," Martha offers, her hands flat on the table. "Sound like a plan?"

As much as Sunny doesn't want to go home, she knows she has to. People are probably starting to wonder where she is. After dropping her bombshells on her friends two days ago, she has been totally incommunicado. Selfish, she knows. She is absolutely putting herself first at the moment, but as her parents have made her well aware, that will do her no favours in the grand scheme of things. If she wants to rescue what she has with Vivian – which, according to everyone else in her life, is well worth saving – then she has to make the effort.

"Okay," she says at last.

"Good." Martha taps her fingers on the table. "Any chance you want to do my nails? Sixty-three years in this wretched body and I still can't paint them without looking like a four-year-old did it in the dark."