The Do-Over

by Georgia Beers

  Bella needed to tell her. It was time. It was beyond time. If she wanted this to go anywhere deeper, she needed to tell Easton that they’d gone to school together, that she knew exactly where Framerton was because her parents were still there. She needed to come clean about who she was before it was too late to do so. It was already late, she knew. She was dangerously close to it being weird. She’d have to explain to Easton why she’d lied. Well, she hadn’t exactly lied. She just hadn’t told the whole truth.

  “Come on, Isabella,” she said aloud as she shook her head at her own ridiculous rationalization. “A lie of omission is still a lie.”

  Lucy lifted her head from her bed in the corner and stared.

  “Don’t judge me, Luce.” Bella pointed at her. As if trying to make her feel better, Ethel hopped up on the couch and laid her head on what would have been Bella’s thigh but instead was the keyboard of her laptop. Bella grinned. “Thanks, Ethel,” she said, resting her palm on Ethel’s big head.

  It would be quite some time before she was able to concentrate on work.

  How in the world am I going to make it until Friday?

  Chapter Sixteen

  The waitress set the chicken salads down on the table and asked if there was anything else she could get them.

  Shondra pointed to her glass. “I just decided iced tea isn’t strong enough. I’m going to need some alcohol. Pinot Grigio, please.” She looked at Easton, eyebrows raised in question.

  Easton sighed. “Fine. But only one. I don’t have the day off like some people at this table. I have to go back to work.”

  Shondra made a psshhh sound and waved a dismissive hand. “One glass won’t kill you. Might make your hateful staff think you’re fun.” She winked, then stabbed her fork into some chicken.

  “Hey, my staff is coming around,” Easton countered, pointing her fork. “In fact, I am reasonably sure they no longer want to beat me to death in the ladies’ room.”

  “I’d still check under the stalls every time.”

  They both laughed, but it was slightly forced, and the quiet settled over them as the waitress delivered their wine.

  Shondra kept her eyes on her food as she said, “Just be careful, okay? That’s all I’m asking.”

  “Why are you so worried?” Easton did her best to keep her tone light, airy, carefree. “It’s not the 1950s. Or even the 80s. I’m a grown woman who wants to have sex with somebody she’s wildly attracted to. Trust me, this body needs a good workout.” She smiled widely, stayed playful. But Serious Shondra was a tough crowd.

  “It’s not your body I’m worried about, honey. It’s that open, tender heart of yours.”

  Easton was touched. There was no way around that. She felt her best friend’s love and it brought tears to her eyes. “I know,” she said very softly. “I know.”

  “And I realize that I’m being a little ridiculous.” Shondra made a show of lightening up, sitting straighter, eyes wider. “And such a downer. My God, what’s my problem?” She laughed, a sharp bark of a sound. “You are absolutely right. You’re a grown-ass woman who can do what she wants to do and who the hell am I to tell you any differently?”

  The whiplash-inducing turnaround wasn’t unexpected; it was what Shondra did when she was worried. Easton had seen it several times. Shondra expressed her concern, worried that she’d overstepped or was being too bossy, then completely changed her tune. Easton understood, knew her friend well, and she reached across the table to cover Shondra’s hand, thereby getting her attention.

  “Stop,” Easton said calmly but with a gentle, open expression she hoped conveyed her own love. “I get it.” She pulled her hand back and sipped her wine. “You saw me after Olivia, at my very lowest, with my heart in a million pieces.”

  “I don’t want to see that again,” Shondra whispered, with a shake of her head.

  “I know.”

  “Not ever.”

  “I know.”

  “Okay.”

  And that was that. End of conversation. It always amused Easton that they handled things that way. One of them just needed her concerns to be clear to the other. Once that was the case, they moved on. It was something Easton loved about their friendship: the shorthand.

  “That color is fabulous on you, by the way,” Easton said as she gestured to Shondra’s sunshine orange dress.

  “Isn’t it? I’ve been waiting for the weather to be warm enough.”

  The early-June day was beautiful, sunny and warm, a clear sign the summer was pretty much here. A square of sunlight fell across the white tablecloth and Easton laid one hand out flat in it, feeling the instant warmth on her skin.

  “No class last night, huh?” Shondra asked, then finished off her wine.

  Easton shook her head.

  “So, you haven’t seen her since…?”

  “Last Wednesday.”

  “Over a week. Wow. You text?”

  “A little bit, yeah.” Easton was amused by how she and Bella went in spurts with their communication. “We can talk for quite a stretch and then we’ll go for a while with nothing. It’s…different.”

  Shondra lifted one shoulder. “Maybe she’s doing the same thing you are. Stepping carefully. Staying in control. Maybe she’s been hurt, too.”

  “Maybe.” It was something Easton didn’t know about Bella. In fact, she knew a lot less about Bella than Bella knew about her.

  She’d have to remedy that on Friday.

  ***

  “Are you nervous?” Heather didn’t look at Bella when she asked. Just kept sifting through the closet, stopping at a top, sliding the hanger along, giving a dress a second look, sliding the hanger along. She looked all springy today in her white slacks and printed top in blue and pink. Her blond hair was in a messy bun and Bella, as usual, envied her easy style.

  “Yes and no.” It was the truth and it surprised Bella as she sat on her bed and watched Heather that Thursday evening. She thought of herself as terrified, but that wasn’t really the case if she took a hard look at the situation. “I mean, I’m nervous. Of course I am. The chances of us sleeping together are pretty high, and it only makes sense to be nervous when you’ve never been with somebody.”

  “I sense a ‘but.’”

  “But I’m completely comfortable with her. I don’t really understand it. I just am. It was instant.” She crossed her ankles and leaned back on her elbows. She inhaled and let it out very slowly before adding, “Plus, she’s ridiculously hot.”

  Heather turned and shot her a grin. “That helps.”

  “Right?”

  Arms full of hangers, Heather walked to the bed and set the clothes down. “Okay. I think we need to go kind of elegant but casual. Super sexy, but not too available. It’s a fine line we’re walking here.”

  “I love all this ‘we’ stuff,” Bella said with a chuckle, as she sat up.

  “We’re a team, Bella,” Heather said, feigning insult. “Do you want to get laid or not?”

  Bella didn’t think of being with Easton in such raw, derogatory terms, but she knew Heather didn’t either, that she was playing with her. “Yes, please.”

  “All right then.”

  They spent the next forty-five minutes chatting and trying on outfits, mixing and matching tops, pants, dresses, jackets, shoes. Bella loved it. She loved clothes but didn’t necessarily trust her own judgment when it came to putting things together. She was the person who bought the entire outfit right off the mannequin; it was the only way to be positive everything worked. She’d whined more than once about how she needed a stylist to help her match things up. Luckily, Heather was a master. Her style was effortless.

  “Tell me about you and Amy.” Bella watched Heather flush a pretty pink. “Is it going well?”

  Heather held a shirt out in front of her with both hands, inspected it, then dropped her arms to her body. “Oh, Bells.” She released a long breath that made Bella laugh.

  “Wow. If that wasn’t the dreamiest of sighs…”


  Heather covered her eyes with a hand. “I know, right? I’ve become a giant mush ball.”

  “I hate to break it to you, sweetie, but of the three of us? You’ve always been the mush ball.”

  Their gazes held, and they shared a moment of joyful friendship without using any words. Bella finally spoke. “You look so happy. It’s nice to see. I’m really glad.” She lowered her voice and leaned forward slightly. “And if she ever pisses you off, you call me. I’ll knock her around a little bit.”

  “If anyone can take her, it’s you.” Heather handed over a top. “Here. Put this on.”

  Bella took the pale green silk shirt off the hanger. “What happened to make you guys take a chance? I mean, you’ve known each other forever. Why now?”

  Heather cocked her head and looked toward the ceiling as she thought. “You know, I don’t know that I can pinpoint a moment. I texted her one night because I’d moved a picture in my house and ended up with a hole in my wall that was bigger than I’d expected. Amy’s good with drywall and stuff, so I texted to see if she could help me. She came right over. You know how she is, how much she likes to get her butch on.”

  “I do,” Bella said, with an affectionate smile. “She needs us to think she’s tough.”

  “Exactly. Anyway, we got talking about our days and she’d had a date with that flight attendant the night before that didn’t go well, I guess.”

  Bella nodded, familiar with the woman.

  Heather took a pair of black pants off a hanger and handed them to Bella, mid-sentence. “I was trying to offer a little advice and she jokingly said, ‘You know, I should just take you out on a date instead.’ And we laughed about that for a few minutes, but then…somehow…we both stopped laughing and…it became a good idea and we decided to do it.” She shrugged as if it was the most common thing in the world for two friends who’ve known each other for more than a decade to suddenly decide to go on a date, and the soft smile that bloomed on her face was simple, honest, and gorgeous. Contented and gorgeous. “And it was the best date I’ve ever had.”

  Bella stared at her for several beats before dropping her hands to her sides with a huff. “Well, hell. How am I supposed to top that story?”

  Heather burst into what Bella recognized as some slightly embarrassed laughter. “What, you can’t get cornier than that?”

  “Hey.” Bella grasped her arm as Heather went to turn back to the closet. When she had Heather’s attention, she moved her hand up and laid her palm against Heather’s cheek. “I didn’t think that was corny at all. I thought it was beautiful. I envy you.”

  As they stood there, Heather’s eyes welled up and she whispered, “I’m afraid it’s too good to last.”

  Bella shook her head rapidly, kept her tone as playful as she could because she wasn’t sure what to say if she had to be serious. “No. No, no. You’re our optimist. You’re the one who always sees the bright side of things. There’s no being afraid allowed here. Not from you.”

  Heather looked down, her expression soft.

  Bella grabbed her hand, waited until Heather raised her face. “I’m kidding, sweetie. I am so kidding. I get it.” And she did. Though she wasn’t into things as far as Amy and Heather were, she really wanted it to work out with Easton and she was terrified of jinxing it. She was already on thin ice by leaving out a very important piece of information, and this conversation with Heather only solidified her resolve to spill it to Easton at dinner the next night.

  “Yeah?”

  “Absolutely.” Bella sat on the edge of the bed, still holding on to Heather’s hand, and pulled her down to sit next to her. “Here’s the thing: we have no guarantees in life.” At Heather’s grimace, she squeezed. “But you obviously want this to work, and it’s crystal clear to me that you guys are good together. I mean, I haven’t known for long, but Sunday? Once you told me, it was so obvious that you’re into each other. That there’s…more there than just fun.” That was true. With all the cards on the table, it was as if the picture of Heather and Amy together had been slightly foggy and it suddenly came into sharp focus so Bella could see their faces, their eyes, the softness there, the fondness. And while she didn’t want to get too mushy or overly positive with Heather, something inside Bella knew—just knew—that her friends were going to make it. It was a feeling that lifted her, warmed her heart, made her indescribably happy for them. And for herself because she’d get to watch it happen, watch them grow together. What an honor that was going to be. “And that there’s a possible future.”

  “You can see that?”

  “Who knows you guys better than me?”

  Heather gave a slow nod as her eyebrows rose with realization. “That’s true.”

  “I say do your best not to worry, not to try to see too far into the future. Just be here now, with Amy, and the rest will fall into place.”

  “That’s good advice.” She nodded some more, this time with a bit more confidence, as if thinking about it had her feeling stronger. She turned her gaze to Bella, her face a portrait of gratitude. “It’s great advice. Thanks, Bells.”

  There was a beat before Bella broke the emotion with, “Excuse me, aren’t you supposed to be giving me advice, though?”

  Heather stood up from the bed, straightened her posture. “Why, yes. Yes, I am. And I have some. Are you ready?”

  Bella shifted her position on the bed, made a show of bracing herself. “Ready. Hit me.”

  “Shave.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Look, I know it’s been a long time since you’ve gotten down and dirty and that can make us become a little…lax in the grooming department. Shave it.” She waved a finger up and down to encompass Bella’s entire figure. “All of it.”

  Bella burst into laughter, and just like that, the mood was light again, happy and fun, all the serious talk tucked away until it needed to be brought out again and discussed.

  “All right,” Heather said, and she was back in Fashion Consultant Mode. “Let’s find you something that’s going to have the beautiful and sexy Miss Easton drooling all over herself.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  4:30. That’s what the clock on the nightstand told Easton the time was.

  4:30.

  “Okay. Plenty of time.” She’d been standing in front of her closet in her bra and underwear for a good fifteen minutes, doing nothing but staring. Accomplishing zero. Making no progress at all. Which was annoying.

  She’d taken a half day at work. She wanted to make sure the house was clean, that she had everything she needed to make dinner—a simple chicken dish with baby new potatoes, mixed vegetables, and chocolate mousse for dessert—and that the sheets on the bed were fresh, thereby possibly jinxing herself, but it was a risk she was willing to take.

  All of that was done. The predicted rain had graciously held off while she ran around town and only now started to tap gently on the windows. Easton could accept that, as she was in for the evening now, she hoped. The only thing left was to get dressed. She hadn’t expected that to be the hardest task of all, but it was. She wanted stylish but comfortable. Pretty but touchable. Sexy but not slutty. Another five minutes went by before she literally shook herself into movement and plucked a pair of dark jeans off a hanger and stepped into them. She moved to the dresser, took out a silky black tank top with spaghetti straps, and put it on. In front of the full-length mirror, she studied her reflection. She was having a good hair day, thank God, her blond locks wavy, partially pulled back off her face and clipped in the back while the rest hung down around her shoulders. The jeans were snug and the tank was one that could be casual or dressed up with some added jewelry. She chose a simple hammered silver pendant her sister had given her for Christmas, then added silver hoops and the silver Pandora bracelet with the Mommy charm, a Mother’s Day gift from Emma last year.

  Another glance at the reflection was positive. She looked good, if she did say so herself. The idea of cute black sandals crossed her
mind but she much preferred to go barefoot in the house, so she left the bedroom without them and headed downstairs to get dinner started.

  Bella was due to arrive at 6:30.

  The nerves kicked up a notch.

  Easton stood at the bottom of the stairs for a moment and scanned her home. The first floor was open concept, so from her spot, she could see just about everything. The housekeeper came by on Wednesdays—not a coincidence Easton hired her to clean on the day Emma left for a stretch—and the dark hardwood floor gleamed in the sunlight. The chocolate brown sofa had been vacuumed and its many throw pillows arranged neatly at the corners. End tables and the coffee table were dust-free. The windows were so clean, the glass seemed nonexistent, though the rain was taking care of that. The kitchen sparkled—part of Easton was bummed she was about to mess that up—and she knew the downstairs powder room, her own master bath, and Emma’s bathroom all shined and smelled a little bit like lemons and Lysol.

  On the coffee table sat a squat candle in a glass jar. It had the warm, inviting scent of cinnamon and Easton loved it so much, she’d bought three of them. The other two were packed in a cabinet somewhere in the dining room. She lit the candle, then turned on her Bose speaker and selected a nice jazz mix from the music selection on her phone. Piano filled the air, the speaker on a shelf in a nice central location so the music could be heard in every room.