Her grandmother scoffed. “Please. That’s crap, and you know it.”
When Easton glanced her way, she saw the ghost of a smile on her grandfather’s face. They were seriously the best couple ever.
“It’s time for you to start thinking about love again,” Mya said with determination. “You need to find yourself a nice girl.”
Easton wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to hearing a sentence like that coming from her grandmother, but she was incredibly grateful anyway. “Well, there is one that I’m interested in…” Again, she let her voice trail off, as she hadn’t planned on telling them, or anybody besides Shondra just yet, about Bella.
But Mya’s little joyful gasp was worth it, and Easton laughed. “Tell me all about her! Give me the scoop. What does she do for a living? Where’d you meet her? Is she pretty?”
Easton laughed harder. “There’s the gossip-hound grandmother I know and love. Let’s see.” She ticked each answer off on her fingers. “She’s a therapist, I met her in my conflict resolution class because she teaches it, and yes, she’s very pretty.”
Mya had scooted to the edge of her chair and held her wineglass in both hands as she leaned forward. Stephen sat back, presumably so his wife had a better view of their granddaughter, an amused smile on his face. “Tell me more.”
Easton looked off into the yard. Emma was still running around, Skippy hot on her heels, Emma’s giggles being carried on the light breeze of a late May afternoon. “Well, there’s not a whole lot to tell right now. We’re still in the early stages of getting to know each other.” She thought about their coffee date Wednesday, the make-out session in the parking lot, how much Easton had wanted to take her home that very night. “We’re trying to take things slow.”
“But?” Mya prompted.
Easton inhaled, let it out slowly, then turned to her grandmother. “I really like her.”
“I can see that.” Mya finished her wine, then poured herself half a glass more. “So, how far has it gone?”
Easton raised her eyebrows in surprise. Was her grandmother actually asking…?
“Have you slept with her yet?”
She was. She was totally asking.
“Oh, my God, Grandma.” Easton covered her eyes with one hand and shook her head as her grandfather laughed.
“What?” Mya asked, all wide-eyed innocence. “Am I not allowed to ask that?”
Easton couldn’t help but join her grandfather in his mirth. “You’re allowed to ask anything you want. No, I have not slept with her.”
“How come?”
Easton realized this was a legitimate question as Mya held her gaze, her expression open and expectant. “Because it’s too fast.”
“Too fast for what? It’s been almost two years, as you just pointed out, since both Connor and the neighbor woman.”
“Olivia.”
“Olivia. Yes. Her.” Mya cocked her head and seemed to think for a moment before lowering her voice. “Is it too fast because you’re scared?”
Easton’s eyes welled and that annoyed her. She let loose a soft groan, swiped at the one tear that escaped, and nodded.
Stephen laid a large, warm hand on Easton’s leg and squeezed gently. He didn’t say anything, but his love was clear. As usual, he was a solid, comforting presence who let his wife do the talking.
“I completely understand. And that goddamn Olivia did a number on you. Let’s hope I never run into her in a dark alley.”
Easton snorted, and her love for her grandmother swelled her heart.
“I can tell you this, though.” Mya waited until Easton looked at her, their gazes locked. “You are ready. You are smart, beautiful, wonderful. And you. Are. Ready.”
“You think so?” Easton swallowed down the emotion that had decided to camp out as a lump in her throat.
“I know so.”
Easton nibbled on the inside of her cheek as the wetness in her eyes dissipated and her grandmother reached across to grasp her hand. The three of them sitting on the back porch, connected by physical touch and their love for each other, was beautiful to Easton, and she allowed herself a moment to simply bask in the love of her grandparents.
“Thank you guys,” she said, when she felt like she could speak without her voice cracking. “I mean it.”
“You deserve to be happy, Buttercup,” her grandfather said as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Don’t you let anybody—especially you—tell you any different. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Mya held up a finger. “Just…play a little hard to get. Keep her on her toes. It’ll be good for her.” Then she winked, and life was better.
After that conversation, Easton felt lighter somehow. While it wasn’t surprising because she always felt better after talking to her grandparents, it was interesting. She wasn’t sure why she needed to have one or both of them tell her she was okay, but that seemed to be her thing. She often came to them when a big change had happened in her life or when she’d made an important decision, because she needed to hear them say she was okay. And they always did. They never failed her. Apparently, she’d needed to hear it about Bella as well. Which wasn’t what she’d expected because Bella wasn’t a subject she’d planned on bringing up.
Funny how that had gone.
And later, as they sat around the dining room table and finished up dinner, part of Easton wished she and Emma weren’t staying overnight, simply because she’d like to see Bella. But it was probably better this way.
Keeping her on her toes and all that…
Chapter Fifteen
Amy’s apartment wasn’t huge, but it felt like it. The high ceilings made it feel big and the natural light that poured in the windows made it seem bright and airy, even on a rainy Sunday morning.
Bella kicked off her wet shoes and left them on the boot tray in Amy’s hall, then handed her jacket over.
“I take it it’s still raining?” Amy asked.
“It’s kind of misting. That stuff that makes my hair frizz up like one of those dish scrubby things.” Bella patted her head self-consciously, but the sound of pots and pans caught her attention, and that’s when she smelled the divine scent of bacon. “Oh, my God, I’m starving.” She followed her nose into the kitchen and was about to ask if Heather was there yet, but stopped when she saw her.
“Hey there,” Heather said and leaned toward Bella for a kiss, her hands occupied by a pot holder and a pair of tongs. She had a flowered apron that was decidedly not Amy’s style tied around her waist. Her bouncy hair was perfect, as usual, as was her makeup. Bella kissed her cheek, then snagged a slice of bacon off the paper towel-covered plate next to the stove. “It’s hot. Be careful.”
It was, but Bella didn’t care, because bacon. “You’re here early,” she said to Heather as she chewed, then turned toward the open dining area and the table where the ingredients for mimosas were set out, in addition to three place settings. Amy held up a flute and raised her eyebrows. Bella nodded.
Amy handed over a mimosa, held her own out, and she and Bella clinked their glasses together. “What’s new?” Amy asked.
Bella watched over the little partition that separated the dining area from the kitchen as Heather opened the spice cupboard to grab a bottle. Then she slid a drawer open, grabbed out another pot holder, and closed the drawer with her hip. “What’s new is watching Heather be a whiz in your kitchen. Wow.” Oven door open, Heather reached in and pulled out a baking dish.
“I may have found my groove,” Heather said with a proud grin.
“Where the hell has it been hiding all these years?” Bella asked, then dodged a flying potholder.
“She’s become damn good,” Amy agreed, and Bella turned to look at her, wondering if she’d imagined the weird edge in her voice. Amy caught her eye, blinked rapidly, then seemed to stand straighter. “But what about you? How are things with the hideously embarrassing high school crush?”
“Sit down, you guys. Breakfast is ready.” Heathe
r pulled a spatula from the drawer and handed it to Bella, then sliced up her breakfast casserole as the other two women took their seats at the already set table.
“It’s fine,” Bella said, making room in the center of the table where two hot plates sat so Heather could put the baking dish there. “It’s good.”
“‘It’s fine. It’s good’?” Amy scooped some casserole onto Heather’s plate, then scooped another piece onto her own. “Could be you be any less descriptive?” She handed the spatula to Bella.
From what Bella could tell, the casserole contained eggs, cheese, something green—spinach?—and bacon, and it smelled heavenly. She served herself a slice as Heather sat down and then two sets of eyes were on her. “What? It is fine. It is good.”
“And you’ve slowed down a bit?” Heather asked.
“Oh, my God, this is delicious,” Amy said quietly, trying to hide her shock, and touched Heather’s arm.
Bella squinted at them, then something bright pink on the floor across the room caught her eye. She narrowed her gaze, and after a beat, recognized it. Her eyes went wide with surprise as a picture began to form in her head. She set down her fork, folded her arms across her chest, and stared at her friends, lips pursed.
Heather and Amy exchanged a glance. Then Amy cleared her throat and said quietly, “What?” She was clearly bracing herself.
“What’s going on with you two?” Bella looked from one to the other, placed her hands on the table, palms down, then kept her focus on Heather, who she knew was definitely the weak link of the two and by far the worse liar. If anybody was going to crack, it’d be her. Bella leaned toward her a bit, hoping to intimidate her into talking.
With an audible swallow, Heather looked down at her plate, set her fork down, and stayed quiet.
A wave of worry hit Bella. “My God, what is it? Is one of you dying?”
A laugh snorted out of Amy. “No, nobody’s dying.”
Bella folded her arms again and sat back. “You two have been weird. Like…weird. Shooting looks at each other when you think I’m not looking. Saying strange things.” A feeling hit her then, one she hadn’t even realized had taken root, one she hadn’t felt since she’d left high school, and she swallowed. “Why are you guys leaving me out? What are you leaving me out of?” The smallness of her voice embarrassed her, and she felt the warmth in her cheeks.
Amy and Heather looked at each other, and Amy’s big, brown eyes softened as if they’d telepathically communicated something. She cleared her throat and turned her attention to Bella. “We’ve been…I mean, Heather and I…we’re…”
“We’re seeing each other,” Heather finished.
Bella furrowed her brow. “You’re seeing each other.” She let the words roll around, and it took her a good twenty seconds before the meaning became clear and her eyes widened. “You’re seeing each other as in, you’re dating?” The pitch of her voice raised almost comically on the last word.
Heather nodded, and Amy smiled halfway, as if she wasn’t sure a full-on grin would be accepted at this point.
“I…” Bella blinked hard. Once, twice. Rubbed her forehead. Sat up. “But…when? How? When? And why didn’t you tell me?” She had so many questions. So many emotions.
Amy and Heather looked at each other again and Bella saw it clearly this time: the…love? Was it love already? Heather reached out a hand and grasped Amy’s.
“It’s been a few months,” Amy began, and she held up a placating hand as Bella’s mouth dropped open in shock. “I know. We know. But…it just kind of happened and we weren’t sure where it would go, if anywhere.”
Heather spoke up. “Mostly, we were worried. About what it would do to the three of us if it didn’t work. We figured if we didn’t tell you and it fizzled, you wouldn’t be in the middle. You wouldn’t feel like you had to choose a side.” She wet her lips, looking nervous and hesitant, and that made Bella feel the tiniest bit better. “Does that make sense?”
Bella looked at her best friends. Looked from one to the other. Amy’s brown eyes, Heather’s blue ones, focused on her. Worried, a tad frightened, but also…happy. There was definite happiness there. In the way Heather leaned slightly toward Amy. In the way Amy held tightly to Heather’s hand. They were happy. And that really was the only thing that mattered to Bella.
“And…it hasn’t fizzled?”
“No,” Amy said, and it seemed like she wanted to smile, but she held herself in check. “It hasn’t.”
“Well.” Bella reached for the champagne, filled her glass. “Fuck the orange juice. I need straight-up alcohol for this.” She took a long sip, then another, then set it down. “That explains why Heather’s overnight bag is over there in the corner. And why she suddenly knows where everything is in your kitchen.” The girls looked slightly chagrined but said nothing, seemed to wait Bella out. She inhaled slowly, let it out, and nibbled on her lower lip for a moment. Then she folded her hands on the table and looked from Amy to Heather and back to Amy. “Yeah, I’m gonna need all the deets. Spill.”
***
By the time Bella got home and let the dogs out into the backyard, she was exhausted. Funny how emotional discussions—good or bad—could do that to you. Her friends were happy. That was the bottom line. Yes, Bella would’ve liked to be in on things from the beginning, but part of her did understand why they’d chosen the path they had. She didn’t like it—being excluded brought up painful memories from her past—but she understood it.
As she stood at her sliding glass door and watched Ethel run around the yard like a puppy while Lucy did her business under a tree, occasionally blinking up at the raining sky with obvious annoyance, the corners of her mouth tugged up a bit. She’d never seen Amy so happy. So smitten. Yeah, that was the word, corny as it sounded: Amy was totally smitten. Like, gooey looks and over-attention. The whole nine yards now that Bella knew and they didn’t have to be secretive or even discreet any longer. And once the cat was out of the bag, Amy hadn’t been able to keep her hands off Heather.
“That’s been the hardest part,” Amy had admitted to Bella under her breath when Heather was out of earshot. She’d even looked a bit sheepish, and Amy was not somebody who looked sheepish very often. “I just…want to be touching her all the time. You know?”
There was a prickle of jealousy, if Bella was being honest with herself. Just a small one. She was thrilled for her friends. Over the moon. Their happiness was palpable, and Bella couldn’t help but smile at them once she got past the surprise of it all. But there was a teeny, tiny sliver that felt envious, that wanted what they had and was irritated they’d found it so close to home.
She slid the door open for Lucy, who stepped inside and immediately shook her entire body, sending a mist of water everywhere. Bella used the towel she kept handy for just such occasions and wiped her dog down, dried her paws, gave her a kiss on top of her big, square head. Lucy marched away with a snuffle, straight to her bed in the corner, where she curled up and plopped down with a long-suffering sigh.
“I know. It’s hard to be you, huh, Luce?”
Ethel was next, and she was more than wet from her running around. She was muddy, and it took a lot more effort to get her clean. By the time Bella finished, she was sitting on the floor and dirtier than her dogs had been.
On her way up the stairs to change into cleaner clothes, a ping came from her back pocket. A text from Easton.
How was your weekend?
They’d texted a bit since Wednesday but only sporadically, as if each of them had their conversation about moving too fast in the backs of their heads. She texted back.
Not bad. Yours? How was your visit with your grandparents? She set the phone on her dresser and stripped off her now-muddy shirt.
Really great. It always is. You’d like them. And then a smiling emoji.
Bella vaguely recalled Easton’s grandparents. At least her grandfather. He was a well-known and beloved local doctor. Lots of kids at school were patients of his,
something that made Easton even more popular than she already was. I’m sure, she texted back.
You saw that this week’s class is canceled, yes?
That text surprised Bella. Until she looked at her email and saw the note from her boss telling her so. I did, yes. She was glad Easton couldn’t hear her sigh.
We have a company-wide picnic that evening and my bosses want all the managers there. This time, the emoji was rolling its eyes.
Bella grinned. Well, that’s a bummer.
Right? A beat went by. Two. Then the next text came. I was thinking…
Uh-oh… Bella texted back immediately, her grin widening.
Ha ha. Very funny. There was another pause between texts, and Bella wondered if Easton was thinking, rethinking, gearing up, hesitating…Finally, the phone dinged again. Are you free Friday night?
A wave of excitement flooded Bella’s system at the thought of spending time with Easton. I believe so. She tried to picture Easton’s face as a few more beats went by before her next text came.
Would you be interested in coming to my place? I’d like to cook you dinner.
“Ooohhhh…” Bella said quietly into the silence of her bedroom, as a gentle throbbing began low in her body. I would be very interested in that. Then she sent her own smiling emoji.
Fantastic. I’ll touch base with you as it gets closer.
They signed off, Easton needing to help Emma with some homework. Bella had some work to catch up on, so she finished changing into sweats and headed downstairs to the living room. The light rain had gotten heavier, and a check of the weather showed it wasn’t stopping any time before dark. Bella gathered her laptop and work stuff and settled onto the couch with the Food Network on the TV.
It only took a moment or two for her to realize that concentrating on work was going to take some effort because her head was filled with a gorgeous blond with expressive blue eyes and legs that went on for days. She knew what Friday would be, where it would lead. They both did, she was sure of that. They would be alone, not in public, not making out in a parking lot—which seemed to be their thing and made Bella chuckle softly—it would be the two of them. Just the two of them. In a house. A house with, presumably, a bed. And instead of thinking about how they’d talked about speed, moving too fast, slowing things down and all that, Bella thought about Amy and Heather. The way they looked at each other now. How they’d felt something and taken a chance. Bella wanted to feel that courage. She wanted Easton to look at her the way Amy and Heather looked at each other.
The Do-Over Page 17