Gemma's POV

I HAVEN'T been sleep deprived in a while. It's different. But I know when I head back to work, I'll catch up.

"Bom dia linda," Estela walks over to the bed, and hands me a cup of coffee, "how were your dreams?"

"Boa. Yours?"

She leans in, and places a kiss on my lips. We've had a bit of fun for the past few days. But tomorrow is my last day here. And I'm not good at goodbyes.

"Filled with you. Sonhos sujos," she says.

"Sonhos sujos? I don't know what that—"

"It's nothing, querida. Want to have one last meal with me?" I nod, "vamos nos vestir então."

Estela suggests that we shower together, but I don't want her last memories of me to be my sagging body. No one's seen me completely naked in years. I do have a self-confidence issue. But it's something I have to deal with.

We get dressed, and she drives us to this beautiful place on the beach.

"I'm going to miss you," she looks at me, as we walk side by side on the pier.

"Eu também, meu amor," as much as I'm going to miss this, I can't wait to get back to my life—to what makes me me.

I've missed the feel of a paintbrush in my grasp—the sense of accomplishment within each stroke...

But I will miss Estela too.

I'm sure that I don't know her very well. Just the things she wants me to. We're just a jogar, as they say.

And I'll never see her again. There's something quite romantic about that.

"Tell your friends I said goodbye," I'm not sure if she understands what I just said, but I'll wait for her response.

"Goodbye?" She repeats, in her heavy, sexy accent, "isso não é adeus. We'll meet again. Algum dia."

I smile and place my palm against her cheek, "algum dia, Estela."

BEING BACK at my home, relief washes over me. Gosh, I've missed my comfort-pedic bed. I plop onto it and sigh. This is just what I need.

I wonder what Audrey is up to. And her kids. I'll give her a call once I settle in.

I take a nap, before I start unpacking. Then, I begin to clean. Vacuuming is not my favorite thing, but I love how the house feels after. It's like it's been relieved of ten pounds of dust.

I change my bedsheets, and start a load of laundry. Then, I realize that I should order some food.

When I answer the door, expecting my indian takeout, I'm happily surprised to find my two best friends.

"And you thought we wouldn't show up," Wendell saunters his way in, dragging Lizzy along with him.

Those two are connected by the hip. They're like Thelma and Louise. Ride or die. I'm just the third wheel. But I don't mind.

"Gemma. How was your trip!" Lizzy pulls me into a hug.

"So insensitive, Liz. It was for a fu-ner-al. Get with the program," Wendell pulls me in for a hug next, "you okay, hun? Do I need to introduce you to my friend Jia again?"

I shake my head, "no. Not a chance. I'm great actually."

"Really?" He leads me into the kitchen, "let's pour some drinks, and we can talk about it."

Lizzy grabs the vodka and three glasses, "did you meet anyone?" She asks.

"I've met a lot of people," I say.

Wendell swoons, "who are the lucky ladies?"

"Nothing sexual. That wasn't on my list of things to do."

Lizzy places the glass of vodka in front of me, "sure. I don't go to Ricky's Bar every Friday to pick anyone up either," she laughs and drinks her vodka.

They're both in their fifties, but act like twenty year olds.

"You're nice and tanned. So you must have had some fun," Wendell runs his hand over my arm.

"Well, actually. I cut my trip back home short, and went to Rio."

"Wait, Rio de Jan-erio! And where was my invite, bitch?" He nudges me.

"It was so spontaneous of me."

"Now, tell us about these beautiful, brazilian women," he insists.

"There's one particular one that I had a lot of fun with."

"Ohhh. Spill it."

I fill them in about my trip. And we share my indian food. Of course, I'm still hungry after. They want me to go Senor Frog with them at the Treasure Island for the drag show. But I decide to take a walk on Fremont Street instead. I'd almost forgotten how busy it can be.

The people on the zipline above are screaming as though they're bungy jumping from the Strat.

I inhale a deep breath of the groungy streets, and close my eyes. There's nothing like home.

I play some Buffalo slots at the Plaza Hotel, and grab something to eat. Unfortunately, I don't hit the jackpot. Just like the other million times I've tried.

WORK HAS been crazy. I feel as though I haven't slept in forever. And when my grandfather's accounts finally transfers into my name, my eyes almost bulge out. He definitely didn't save his money under his mattress. Gosh, I might be able to afford healthcare after all.

I make a good living all on my own. But this... what am I going to do with so much money?

I didn't even know that he was this rich. Guess the old guy made some great investments over the years. If I had a kid, I'd be making a trust fund.

To celebrate me not having to struggle for the rest of my life, I go to Louis Vuitton to finally buy that tote bag that I've had my eye on for months.

As I leave the store, the smile on my face beaming, my phone begins to ring. I fish it out from my purse, and notice the caller's ID. It's Audrey.

"Hey, what's up? I just walked out of—"

"I'm at the hospital," she says.

"Shit. What happened?" I hurry to the closest wall, and lean against it, waiting for her to continue, "are you okay?"

I can hear her softly crying over the line, "yes. I will be. Brian got into a car accident, and... and..."

"Audrey..."

"Brian's gone," she whimpers, "he's gone, Gem."

I feel my heart pounding in my chest, "the kids? Are they okay?" So many things are running through my mind.

"Yes, yes. Thank god."

"Audrey, I can get on the next flight there," I bite on my bottom lip. I'm so nervous for her.

"No, no. I just needed to tell you. I've got everything under control. Please, don't worry."

"Okay. But I can be there in—"

"I have to go, Gem. I need to take the kids home."

Before I can say anything, she hangs up. I feel so uneasy. I can't let her go through this alone. I'm almost finished with this project. And I did have more lined up, but I can cancel. It will hurt my reputation. But my friend needs me.

I COULDN'T sleep on my flight. I just keep thinking about Audrey, and how she's doing. I know what it feels like to have someone you love die. My parents even died in a car accident too.

I drop my bags off at my grandfather's house. I mean, my house. I guess it is now. And immediately head over to Audrey's. I knock on the door impatiently. It's been almost a week since she called me.

And I've tried to call her everyday after, but she won't answer. I hope that she's okay. I even had to leave my project early. It was taking longer than I anticipated. Those producers are so pissed at me. They'll never hire me again.

Fuck, I hope I can find another job in Vegas without that bad name following me.

"Mommy, it's Gemma!" Daphne squeals when she opens the door. I rush inside and look around, noticing Audrey in the kitchen.

"Gemma?" Audrey looks up at me confused, "what are you doing here?"

"I came as soon as I could. Why won't you answer my calls?" I could see that she's about to burst into tears, "it's okay. Everything will be okay," she falls into my arms, and I try to soothe her.

"I'm glad... you're here," she tries to wipe her tears with the back of her hand. I grab the paper towels from the counter, and tear her a few pieces.

"Did I miss the funeral?" She nods, and wipes her eyes, "I'm so sorry. I would have been here sooner, but—"

"I'm just glad you're here. It means a lot."

Daphne walks up to us, and hugs her mom's leg, "daddy's with Jesus now," she sighs, "do you know where Jesus lives, Gemma?"

I shake my head, "someplace far, far away. But he's happy. And he will always love you, okay?"

She nods, as a tear slides down her cheek, "can we watch Frozen, mommy?"

"Yes. Go put it on, and we'll join you in a bit," Daphne nods and runs into the living room.

"How are you feeling?" I ask.

"I'm fine, Gem. Just frustrated. There's so much—too much going on."

She leads me upstairs, and into the bedroom away from Daphne, so that we can talk, "where's Claire?"

"Sleepover," Audrey places her hands over her face. It seems as though there's more to her stress than what I know.

We sit on the bed, and I place my hand in hers, "what can I do? I'm here, Audrey. Whatever you need."

She softly whimpers, "I still can't believe that he's gone."

I gently stroke the palm of her hand with my fingertips. I'm not good at being comforting, but I'm trying my best.

"I know, honey. But God has a plan for us, doesn't he?"

Audrey scoffs, "like you believe that."

I shrug, "I hope he's at peace. The only thing that I'm certain of is that he had a beautiful wife and wonderful kids."

She leans her head against my shoulder, "I'll get through this, won't I?" I nod.

"Yes. You're strong, and accomplished. You're supermom at the finest."

She laughs, "now you're just lying to cheer me up. I'm just struggling, Gem. I don't know how I'm going to take care of the kids on my own," she quivers.

"What do you mean? You've done a great job so far. Why would now be any different?"

I begin to stroke her hair. I'm taken aback to when we were in highschool. We'd tell each other all of our problems. Oh, how those problems seem meaningless now, compared to the ones we currently deal with.

"I can't afford this house on my own. Or college for the kids. I can't even afford Daphne's ballet lessons."

"Is the Bakery—"

"Business isn't what it once was. We're barely keeping the doors open. I've had to let go of a lot of my employees over the past few months. And I hired highschoolers just so I can pay them cheap."

No wonder that girl had such an attitude. What's her name? Sam? Samantha?

"What about insurance? Please tell me he had insurance," everyone has life insurance, right?

"Yeah. But that'll maybe get us through the next two years. What am I going to do after?" I guess Brian didn't invest in a high enough life insurance.

"We get the business back on its feet, so you can take care of yourself."

"How, Gemma? It's not like I haven't tried. Ever since I took over, it's been a sinking ship. I don't know how my mom did it."

I might know a thing or two about that. I'm not sure if Audrey knows, or remembers, but my grandfather financed the bakery for years. It's always been a sinking ship. But he had a soft spot for Audrey's mom. I believe they were good friends.

"I came into some inheritance—"

"No, Gemma," Audrey groans and pushes me away, "I'm not taking your money."

"It'll be an investment."

She sighs and stands, "it's my problem to fix. I might just sell the place."

"That's what you want to do?" She shakes her head.

"I don't know what I want."

"Audrey, please let me help," she begins to pace the room, "I don't know the first thing about running a business. But I love that place. I don't want it to turn into another Tarbucks."

Of course, I want to help her. My grandfather thought that place was worth saving over and over again. Then, why should I give up on it? It might be the one thing that I can do to honor his memory.

"I don't know, Gemma. I don't know," she cries. Her cheeks are pink with tears.

"Don't worry about that now. Just relax, please."

I pull her into a hug.

"I can't," she mumbles.

I'M TRYING my best to be supportive. Audrey's taking a shower, and Daphne's watching cartoons. I head into the kitchen, and check the fridge. All that's in it is expired milk, and string cheese.

I guess that I can take a trip to the grocery store, and pick up a few things.

"Daphne, I'll be back in an hour," I walk past the living room, and look at her, "let your mom know."

She just nods, and continues to stare at the tv.

I sigh and head out the door. I'm not good with kids. So being there for them will be a struggle. The thing is, I've never had to take care of anyone but myself. How am I going to do this?

Audrey needs all the help she can get. She's a damn mess. I can't blame her.

I grab a shopping cart, and walk down every aisle. I might as well grab the essentials too. Like toilet paper, and toothpaste.

I know that I'm not going to be staying there. They need my help. But I'm not trying to be their father. I'll go over everyday, check in on them, and head back to my grandfather's house—my house.

I could stay at the bed and breakfast again. But after what happened between Veronica and I, I'm embarrassed to see her again.

"Gemma?" I notice Penny walking towards me, along with Maggie, "I thought you left," Penny says.

"Yeah. I got back in today. Just picking up some stuff for my friend."

"Oh, I heard about Audrey's husband. Veronica told me," Maggie says, "I'm glad you're back. Give Audrey my condolences."

"I will. How's, uh, Veronica?" Maggie grins at me, "and your other friend, Beatrice?"

"They're good," Penny looks into my cart, "how long are you staying this time?" She asks.

"Not sure. Audrey's pretty torn up. I'm going to try to help her as much as I can."

"Such a good friend," Penny places her hand on my arm, "let me know if you need anything?"

Maggie nudges her.

"Yeah. I'll manage. But thanks. I'm in a rush. But we'll catch up some other time?"

"Great. Come on, Penny. We're supposed to grab wine, remember?" Penny shrugs and winks at me.

"Okay," I turn my cart, and head for the next aisle. I'm glad that I'm all sexed out. I won't need sex till next year with all that attention I got from Estela.

Estela... I wonder what she's up to.

After I'm done, I decide to grab a pack of cigarettes, and head to check out. The line to the self check-out is quite long, and as I wait, Maggie and Penny join the line right behind me.

I sigh. Just a few more minutes of torture.

"We seem to keep running into each other," Penny smirks, as she holds onto a shopping basket filled with various bottles of wine.

"Yeah. Are you having a party tonight?" I ask.

She shrugs, "you should stop by. We're heading over to Veronica's."

Maggie laughs, "if you call gossiping and chugging on wine a party, that's what we'll be doing. But you should stop by. Veronica will be glad to see you."

I notice the line move, and step forward, "I would. But I'm going to spend some time at Audrey's."

"That's fine. Are you staying with her, or are you going to stay at Veronica's again?" Maggie asks. She seems to know something more than she's letting on. Veronica must have told her what happened.

It makes me feel a bit embarrassed. Does Penny know too?

"I have my grandfather's house all to myself. Might as well make good use of it," I answer.

"Right. I love that house. Any plans to put it on the market, because I—"

"I don't. Not yet anyway. There's more pressing things to deal with right now."

"Okay," she grabs something from her purse, "if you ever decide to, I'd like to be your realtor."

I take the card from her, and look at it. It's her business card. So she's a real estate agent.

"Great," I slide it into my back pocket, "I hope you girls have fun tonight."

I'm finally in front of the line. And I look for any available registers.

"We'll see you around, Gemma," Maggie smiles and waves.

MY HANDS are filled with bags, as I walk into the kitchen. Everyone must be upstairs.

I drop the bags and sigh.

"Need help?" Audrey walks in with her favorite t-shirt on. I can't believe that she still has that thing.

"I like your shirt," she starts packing things into the fridge.

"Yeah. You still have yours?"

I pack some stuff into a cupboard, "no, my ex-girlfriend stole it."

She laughs, "really? At least she has good taste."

I shrug, "I think she burnt it."

"Really? I wonder what you did to make her do that."

I laugh, almost making a can fall onto my foot. Audrey and I once had the great idea to start a band. We went as far as getting matching t-shirts. And that was about it.

"She was a little crazy."

"Don't you say," she continues to giggle. It's nice to see her enjoy herself for a bit, "she could've been the singer our band didn't have."

"God knows our voices would kill an already dead man," thinking about playing the drums again, brings back a lot of good memories. I sometimes forget how much fun Audrey and I had growing up.

She was, of course, the guitarist. And I'm the best drummer... out of the two of us. I can't say I'm very good at it. I wonder if she still plays the guitar.

"Your drumming definitely does," she teases, "and I'm not graceful with the strings either."

"We could have been the best rock band of the nineties. If only we'd gone through with it."

"Well, you started dating that older woman. And we hung out a lot less," I look at her and frown. Nice way to ruin the mood. Buzzkill.

"Let's not talk about her, please."

"Sorry," she sighs, "I bumped into Veronica the other day. She asked about you."

Yet another woman that I don't want to talk about, "okay, so what would you like me to make for dinner?" I lean against the counter.

"We can order in. Did anything happen between you two?" She asks.

"Me and Sabrina? You know that—"

"No," she rolls her eyes, "you and Veronica. I saw all the cute looks you gave each other at the fair. She seems to like you."

I want to roll my eyes, "we're just friends. She's probably straight."

"Yeah, right. As straight as a circle. I've known her for years."

"Right. Volunteer work and all."

Audrey yawns into the back of her palm, "we actually went to high school with her too. She's younger than us, so you probably can't remember her from back then. You only noticed older women," Audreys smirks. I narrow my eyes at her.

"You're back to your normal self already," she shrugs, "it could be because it's been over twenty years since we graduated highschool, and my memory is bad."

I suck in a breath. That's why Veronica kinda looked familiar. She's from highschool. Gosh, does she remember me from back then? No wonder she wants to stay friends. She's probably turned off from how much eyeliner I used in highschool... that's gotta be it.

"Could be. But she's a really nice person. You should ask her out."

Right. That's a great idea. Let me go over there right now, and get rejected once again. Great idea.

I just play it off, and unpack the rest of the bags, "just friends, Audrey. Just friends."

"Fine," she helps me wash the fruits, before putting them in the fridge, or on the counter, "I just don't want you to end up alone like me."

I look at her. She's going to have a hard time for the next few months, maybe even years. I don't know how much she loved him, but he was her husband, and the father of her kids.

I know that letting go is going to be hard. I wouldn't be as stable as her if my spouse died. I'd probably be listening to a playlist of Ed Sheeran, and crying, while stuffing my face with alcohol and painkillers.

That's dark. I'm a wreck all on my own. Imagine having her problems.

"You're going to get through this. And no matter what, I'm here. For you and the kids."

"I know. It's just—" she fumbles. I'm sure that nothing in the world can make her feel at ease about it. And I know that I'm not that number one person on her list when it comes to reliability. I left for twenty years, and didn't come back. I don't expect her to trust me. But I'm here now, and I believe that that's what's important, "you're just... not him."

She's beginning to tear up. I embrace her, and let her cry against my shoulder, "I'm not. But I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."