When Girlfriends Let Go Read online

  Table of Contents

  When Girlfriends Let Go

  Also By Savannah Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  When Girlfriends

  Let Go

  a novel by

  Savannah Page

  Also by Savannah Page

  When Girlfriends Find Love

  When Girlfriends Take Chances

  When Girlfriends Chase Dreams

  When Girlfriends Make Choices

  When Girlfriends Step Up

  When Girlfriends Break Hearts

  When Girlfriends Collection, Books 1-3

  Bumped to Berlin

  When Girlfriends Let Go

  Copyright © 2013, Savannah Page

  ISBN-13: 978-1494740474

  ISBN-10: 1494740478

  Cover Design by Pearls and Pages

  All rights reserved.

  License Notes

  This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, incidents, and places portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be used, reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, or stored in any information storage and retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Information about the author and her upcoming books can be found online at www.savannahpage.com

  For Emma

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to my family and friends for all of your love and encouragement.

  Thanks to Ginger and Erin for helping me with Jackie’s colorful personality and story. Your support and advice are always invaluable.

  Many thanks to my fabulous editor, Liam Carnahan of Invisible Ink Editing, for doing a smashing job with this novel.

  And thank you to my husband for making yet another rocking book cover and for being the best husband ever. Ich liebe dich, Christian.

  Chapter One

  “She can’t give up. She can’t just stop—stop—trying!”

  I blink long and hard, fighting the path where my thoughts are headed. I resist the temptation to consider my own relationship—my marriage—and how it’s nothing like I imagined. Giving up actually doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.

  “That’s giving up too soon. Too soon.”

  I look down at my wedding ring—the Tiffany five-carat, custom-ordered, round solitaire, which is exactly what I’d always dreamed of. I thumb the platinum band and give a sniff, trying to dismiss the negative path my mind is beginning to wander down.

  Cramming my hands in the pockets of my tangerine-colored sweater dress, I pull my chin up and return my attention to the topic actually at hand.

  “It’s too soon, don’t you think? Right?” Claire Whitley, one of my closest friends from college, is looking at me expectantly. “She can’t give up. Right, Jackie?” She scrunches a handful of her tight golden curls at the back of her head.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say quickly.

  I brush my fingers across the row of colorful book spines in front of me and find myself amusingly distracted. Titles like Your Baby, Your Birthing Plan and Do You Doula or Not? and From Utero to Universe: The Better Birth do more frightening than marketing. I don’t know how any pregnant woman would be persuaded into picking up one of these books based off of the corny titles. I don’t know what constitutes a “better birth” or how someone can really plan one. And what’s a doula, anyway?

  “You agree with me?” Claire says as she also pulls a book from the wooden shelf. “That it’s too soon to tell? To make any rash decisions? That she’d be giving up if she tossed in the towel already?”

  I pull at random one of the many pregnancy self-help books. “Maybe,” I say to Claire, glancing to my left at Sophie Wharton, who’s got her nose in the utero book.

  “Maybe?” Claire repeats, hanging on my response with those patient but always excited crystal blues of hers.

  “Maybe Lara’s giving up too soon…true,” I say slowly. “Or maybe she just doesn’t see the relationship going anywhere,” I give a one-shouldered shrug, “so she figures why not pull the plug now? Stop stringing along and end the suffering?”

  “They’ve only been living together for what? Three or four months? Something super short.” Claire raises a questioning brow. “That’s too soon to really know, I think.”

  She quickly scans the cover of the book in her hand and her eyes grow wide. “These titles are so creative!” she gushes in her ever-peppy way. She gives me a toothy smile and immediately flips open the book.

  I suppress the urge to offer up my differing opinion; babies are more Claire’s department than mine. These books are definitely more marketed towards women like her, certainly not me.

  Claire continues to pore over the book like it’s the Kama Sutra—something actually interesting. She juts out a curvy, blue-jeaned hip, the book pressed to her waist and tightly clutched in one hand. She flips page after page, twisting her lips from side to side and occasionally purring out sounds like Ahh and Oooh.

  “Well,” I exhale, turning round and round my wedding ring, “I’ve lived with guys for less time than Nathan and Lara have lived together, Claire.”

  Claire manages to pull her attention from the evidently fascinating book and looks at me, still wearing curious and wide eyes. “And?”

  “And I was able to realize the relationship was headed for Disasterville.” I glance down at the book in my hand and immediately return it to the shelf. The image on the cover is one of those illustrations of the inner workings of what makes a female a female—the sa
me illustrations that cover every OB-GYN’s walls. I shiver.

  “Nathan doesn’t seem like some of the bozos you’ve dated, Jackie,” Claire says. “No offense.”

  “Never any taken.”

  “Nathan and Lara have been together for a while.” She claps the book shut and returns it. “They’ve invested so much time in one another. Surely they’re only having those normal hiccups you can have when you change your living arrangement.”

  Lara Kearns, my best friend in the whole wide world, (right up there with Emily Saunders, both fab girlfriends from college) has been seeing this guy Nathan for a year now. He moved into her apartment last fall and everything had seemed to be going really well prior, hence the sharing of the abode. But lately Lara hasn’t been feeling so sure about their arrangement…or their entire relationship. She says she can’t really pinpoint the reason behind the feeling and their growing distance, but that maybe that’s just it: There’s distance between them, and it’s, well, growing.

  I can understand her hesitancy about staying in a committed relationship when she’s on the fence about the guy, though. To stay or not to stay, hoping it’ll get better? Or will it get worse? I mean, I’ve had my unfair share of dazzlers-turned-douches, all of whom started out amazing and eventually crashed and burned, or at least fizzled out. Relationships can be the most mind-blowing and amazing adventures, yet they can also be the most heart-wrenching and horrible experiences of your life.

  I say, if Lara’s feeling so-so with Nathan and they’ve already been in a relationship for so long, then certainly that relationship can’t last. Can it? She’s given it a long and fair chance—plenty of time—and if she called it quits now, she wouldn’t be “tossing in the towel…giving up” would she? If there’s no longer anymore fun in the relationship (as Lara has firmly stated), then what the hell’s the point?

  Then again, hiccups are totally normal in a relationship, as I am always reminding myself. Maybe this one is just a really lengthy hiccup. Eventually it’ll stop and things will be back to normal. Right?

  Oh, I don’t know! Who am I to give advice? I’m Jackie Kittredge, the girl who goes to Lara—and all my other friends, for that matter—for advice.

  “I’m torn,” I say to Claire. “Maybe she should think a short while more about it, or…” I pause, pursing my lips. My thoughts begin to drift back towards that path. That path where I begin to consider my relationship with my husband. When is a relationship old and stale enough to begin thinking of alternatives to happiness? When is it all right to consider giving up and moving on? Is it ever all right when you’ve made a commitment to someone? A big commitment, like marriage…

  “And?” Claire waits with bated breath.

  “Hmm?” I sound, lips pressed together tightly.

  “You think Lara should wait it out a while or…”

  “Or…” I glance down at my wedding ring, give my tongue a quick bite, then blurt out, “Maybe she should say ‘to hell with it’ and kick Nathan to the curb! I don’t know.” I wave a dismissive hand.

  Claire nods slowly, pensively. “Playing it on the safe side and waiting it out a bit is probably a good idea,” she says. “See where things go. I mean, she and Nathan have been great together…and Lara’s been wanting a solid relationship for so long.” A sullen expression creeps across Claire’s face. “I’d hate to see her hurt and single again.” I nod as she shouts out abruptly, “And! Once you let someone go, there’s no getting them back.” She gives me a blank look. “Better to play it safe and give it more time.”

  “All right,” Sophie’s voice trills as I feel my brow furrow over Claire’s comment. No getting them back… And yet again my thoughts are drifting to that path.

  “Found one finally?” Claire asks loudly. She sets a hand on my shoulder and leans over me, looking at Sophie, eager.

  Sophie, just as proactive and bossy as she was the first day we met back in college a bajillion years ago (actually it’s more like ten), waves a book in the air and proclaims, “This one! This book is filled with information that pertains specifically to Robin’s situation.”

  Claire nods in a matter-of-fact way and reaches out to examine the book herself.

  “There are two whole chapters that talk exclusively about Cesareans and breeched babies,” Sophie waxes on lyrically. “There’s also a chapter all about having to change birthing plans at the last minute.” She gives one sharp nod. “Definitely the book for Robin.”

  Sophie looks satisfied with our trip to Randy’s and ready to go. She’s standing here tall and proud—slim, impeccable posture, and towering a good nine inches over my five-feet-nothing. Her glossed lips form a subtle and content smile, but one that’s hinting at the tiniest bit of impatience. She puts one hand on her hip and scratches at her lightly freckled nose in an expectant way. “It’s a great find,” she says assuredly. She places her other hand on her hip, posture still perfect, and adds, “Our search is done. It’s definitely the right book for Robin.”

  “Oh, yes,” Claire says. She’s thumbing through the book at a rapid pace. “Very good, very good.” Her voice is becoming a muted and absorbed mumble.

  Sophie, Claire, and I are at Randy’s, an old college hangout where we used to all go with our homework in tow when we were studying at U Dub (the University of Washington for those who aren’t familiar with the most awesome college ever). If I could count the hours we’d spent in this bookstore, poring over our homework… Well, it’d be nothing in comparison to the hours we spent here ignoring said homework and exchanging gossip, laughing, and ordering one frappé after another.

  We just spent the last couple hours tonight doing the very same things (chatting and drinking tasty beverages, that is) over at our friend Robin’s place, and now we’re here at Randy’s looking for preggo books, because poor Robin’s birthing plan has been shot to hell. A natural birth with breeched (and rather largely-sized) Phillip may not be in the cards, and Robin’s faced with possibly having to have a C-section.

  Robin’s all panicked, naturally; Sophie’s confident she can solve this; Claire’s way too interested in all of it; and I’m along for the ride in sisterly support. By Sophie’s insistence to find the best self-help book pronto for our friend in need (who can’t quite fit behind the wheel anymore), I find myself looking at suggestive books that give tingles up and down my spine—something I would never do if it weren’t for my best friends. I know I can appear selfish and kind of spoiled at times (as they’ll hint at now and then, and as my husband is always quick to point out), but honestly, I’d do anything for my girlfriends. They’re my family, and if that means Robin needs help making her uterus plan or whatever, then I’m game.

  “Are we sure a book is going to help Robin prepare, though?” I ask Sophie with skepticism.

  “It’s the least we can do,” Sophie replies assuredly. “Better to be informed. Besides, she’s got no reason to panic. She’s going to be a rock star with this birth, natural or otherwise.”

  I shrug and say, “If the books’ll help, then…by all means.”

  Robin Sinclair, also one of my college friends whom I’ve known for eons, is supposed to have her second baby, a boy, in something like four weeks. She had a natural birth with her two-year-old daughter Rose and planned to do the same for Phillip. I suppose Robin figures she did it natural once before, so why not again? Plus, she’s that kind of a woman, Robin. She used to be sort of meek and not very confident, kind of taking a backseat in her own life. But ever since she had Rose, dealt with the aftermath of the one-night-stand that led to Rose, and met her dreamy fiancé, Bobby Holman, at the publishing house they both work for, she’s taken the lead role in her life. She’s still quiet and meek, but I take my hat off to her for taking charge of her life and growing a backbone.

  “This is great,” Claire exclaims. She hands the book back to Sophie, who is now engaged in something on her iPhone.

  “Let’s roll,” Sophie states, not removing her eyes from her phone as she sl
ips the book under her arm.

  “Wait!” Claire shrieks. “I want to look a little more.”

  “Oh dear,” Sophie groans. “This again?”

  Ever since Claire and her husband Conner exchanged vows last summer, Claire’s had babies on the brain. The fact that Robin is expecting doesn’t help matters, nor does the pessimism of Lara, the slightly more senior among our group of girlfriends. Lara thinks all hope of having a baby some day is lost now that she’s convinced a lasting relationship with Nathan probably won’t come to fruition. Oh, and that she’ll be thirty-two this year and her eggs will probably expire by the time she finds a replacement for him. It’s not even like she wants to have a baby anytime soon since she’s married to her advertising career, but she wants to keep her options, like her stock, open. Lara’s thoughts on the matter only incite more panic in twenty-six-year-old Claire, who’s determined to pop out kids before she’s even sniffing in Neighborhood 30.

  “I only want to look,” Claire says in a high-pitched voice.

  Sophie heaves a long, drawn-out sigh as she types on the phone’s screen. “Make it quick, Claire. It’s getting late and I really need some sleep. I’ve got a long and early day tomorrow and I still need to finish the rest of the day’s menu.” She waves her phone about for emphasis.

  Sophie owns her own café/bakery, The Cup and the Cake. She’s really made a name for her small startup here in Seattle, where there is some serious competition among cooks and bakers. We’re a culinary capital over here with some well-known and well-established bakeries and cafés, but Sophie’s joint is contending well.

  “I just want to see if they have the book I heard about on the radio the other day.” Claire is scanning her eyes up and down, left and right about the shelves. “About how to convince your husband that now’s the time.”