by Elle Spencer
Brooke was full of answers to unasked questions too. Her dad probably wouldn’t want Ren to know that he’d recently had surgery on a super gross ingrown toenail. Ren didn’t really want to know that either.
“You should really let my mom paint you,” Brooke said.
Paint me? “Didn’t you just tell me your mom has a waiting list? Besides, I don’t need a portrait of myself. Although I do love that painting I bought of the boy.”
“She sold you one of Timmy?” Brooke clapped. “Oh, good! Maybe that means I can go on the Europe trip with the school choir. You should totally do it, though. My mom’s really good. She gets the details right.”
Ren gave her a side-eye. “Can’t I just buy some raffle tickets or something?”
Brooke giggled. “Not for the trip, silly. But now that you mention it, the fundraiser we’re starting next week is going to be gourmet popcorn. Who doesn’t love gourmet popcorn, right?”
“You’ll sell the heck out of gourmet popcorn. Put me down for three. No, make it five. Popcorn is my weakness.” Ren knew she wouldn’t take popcorn to Paris, but that was hardly the point. Besides, it probably wouldn’t last two days in Deb’s house.
Brooke did a fist pump. “Yes!”
Ren glanced at Corey in the rearview mirror. “How’s it going back there?”
Corey gave her a nod. “Fine.”
Ren looked at Brooke with a raised eyebrow and whispered, “Boy trouble?”
“Understatement of the year,” Brooke whispered back.
Ren had her suspicions as they pulled into town. She hoped it wasn’t the kind of trouble she was thinking of. “Where am I going?”
Corey piped up. “That strip mall over there. The one with the dance shop.”
“Need something for dance class?”
“Uh, yeah. We might grab a few things from the drugstore too.”
“Uh-huh.” Ren parked her car in between the two stores. It was obvious the girls wanted to go in alone. “Maybe I’ll get a bottle of wine from the liquor store. What’s your mom’s favorite?”
Corey and Brooke answered simultaneously. “Red.”
“She means my mom, Brooke.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” Brooke got out of the car and pulled the seat forward so Corey could get out too.
“No worries.” Ren gave Brooke a smile. “Maybe I’ll get a bottle for her too, and she can tell me about the painting I bought.”
“His name is Timmy.” Brooke closed the car door. “That’s all we know. Well, that and he keeps my mom up at night.”
Ren went in the other direction toward the liquor store but kept her eye on the girls. They walked past the dance store and went in the drugstore first.
“Red” hadn’t given her much to go on, but she found a decent Zin to bring to dinner and a Pinot Noir for Lindsay, if the opportunity ever presented itself. She’d been waiting in the car for several minutes when the girls came out of the drugstore and walked straight to the car.
They got in the car, and Brooke said, “Will you take us to my house?”
Ren wanted to ask why they hadn’t gone to the dance store, but maybe it was best to let it go. She wasn’t Corey’s mother, after all.
* * *
Lindsay set two wineglasses on the kitchen table and sat across from Patty. “You didn’t have to close the gallery early for me.”
“Are you kidding? I’d take any old reason to close up early on the slower days.” Patty reached across the table and squeezed Lindsay’s hand. “Besides, you sounded a little broken up.”
“I’m not broken up. Just confused about what to do. Maybe this will help.” She held up her glass. “Cheers.”
“Cheers, babe. Now, tell me what you’re so confused about, as if I can’t guess.”
“Can we just chill with the wine for a minute first?”
“I’m always up for chilling with wine. Tell me about Mrs. Stokely’s place. Did it smell like mothballs?”
“You’d love it,” Lindsay said. “Very retro. In fact, I would guess that she hasn’t changed a thing in forty years. And get this, it’s all in great condition.”
“Wow,” Patty said with a look of awe. “Just like the 1979 Buick LeSabe-ruh.”
“I guess it pays to not have any kids. Then your sh-stuff doesn’t get ruined.”
“Sh-stuff?” Patty lifted her glass again. “Here’s to us swearing like normal human beings. And here’s to me never having kids because I like my shit.”
“If you say so.” Lindsay took an extra large sip.
“Now, about that new girl in town. And slow down. The last time you drank wine like that, I had to hold your hair back.”
“Bullshit. You did not.” Lindsay set the glass down. But Patty was right. Getting drunk wouldn’t help. She crossed her arms and laid her head on her hands with a dramatic sigh. “Do I tell Ren? Do I not tell her?”
“Are you nuts?”
“Okay. Do I go see a psychiatrist?”
“Well, I’ve been suggesting that for years, but no one listens to me,” Patty said with a wink.
Lindsay lifted her head. “Ha, ha. Take me seriously, please.”
“Okay. My advice, don’t tell her. She’ll be out of your life soon enough, and this way, there won’t be another person out there who knows…” Patty stopped. “I mean, not that more people knowing about your past life would be a bad thing.”
Lindsay rolled her eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, Cakes.”
“Sweetie, you know I’ve always supported you on your past life stuff. But this I’m not sure about. It’s a little too convenient, isn’t it? I mean, your long-lost love from another lifetime just happens to visit your hometown? And even if it is true, picture yourself telling her. You think she’s just going to be like, ‘Great! Let’s ride off into the sunset!’ ’Cause I promise you, that’s not going to happen.”
“What about the painting? Why would I paint Roo for the first time the very night before Ren arrived?”
“Why do those two things have to be connected? So you had an urge to finally paint Roo. It’s about time, don’t you think? It really doesn’t seem like a big deal.”
Lindsay stiffened. “No big deal? Is that really what you think?”
“Okay. I’m sorry I said that. It just seems like there are a lot of possibilities. You haven’t so much as glanced at someone romantically since the divorce. Maybe you’re ready now. Don’t you think it’s possible that you want it to be her because you want that kind of love in your life?”
“Of course I know that’s possible. It just doesn’t feel like that’s what’s happening, you know?”
“And she might be Roo. And whether she is or isn’t, I don’t see how telling her will do you any favors. Either way, I’m here for you. Tell me what I can do to help.”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be drinking wine.” She took another sip. She knew it all seemed too convenient. Roo was supposed to stay in her dreams, not show up on her doorstep.
Brooke burst through the front door with Corey in tow. They headed straight for Brooke’s room. “Hey!” Lindsay shouted. “You didn’t close the front door.” She got up to close it. “It’s like I raised her in a…oh, hi.”
Ren stepped inside. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Lindsay said again. “I mean, I guess I said that already.” She felt a blush crawl up her chest, and she tried to tame her grin, but there was no stopping it. “Come in.” She felt a little bit giddy and wasn’t sure if it was the wine or if seeing that beautiful face again had her feeling unsteady on her feet.
“They wanted to come here first,” Ren said. “But I thought I’d stick around in case Corey decides she wants to go home.”
There was a soberness in Ren’s tone that Lindsay didn’t like. “Is something wrong?”
“I think so, but it’s not my place to say.”
Brooke came back down the hall looking sullen. She leaned against the wall and folded her arms. “We have to wait a few minutes.”
&n
bsp; Patty came into the living room. “For what?”
“It might be nothing,” Brooke said. “Just give it a minute, okay?”
Patty looked at Lindsay. “Am I the only one having déjà vu?”
Brooke put up her hands. “Please, Aunt Patty. Just give it a minute.”
Lindsay glanced down the hallway. The bathroom light was on, but the door was closed. Déjà vu indeed. She corralled everyone into the kitchen. “Let’s give her some space.”
Patty sat at the kitchen table with her hands clasped against her forehead and started whispering to herself.
“Cakes? Are you okay?”
“I’m praying.”
“But you’re not religious, Aunt Patty.”
Patty flopped back against her chair. “You’re right. God didn’t listen to me the first time, either. No offense, Brookey.”
“No, I get it,” Brooke said. “My life as I know it is probably over. All of our plans to travel Europe together and share a dorm at college and then an apartment in the city, just poof, and it’s gone. Mom, I need a glass of wine so I can drown my sorrows.” Brooke’s forehead hit the table with a dramatic thud. “I’d like the 1998 merlot, please.”
Lindsay gave Patty a questioning look. “It’s not a thing,” Patty said. “She means the purple Gatorade.”
Corey came into the kitchen and leaned against the doorway. Lindsay took a step toward her. “Honey, we’re all here for you.”
Corey wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I know.” She held up the pee stick. “And it’s all good. See?”
Brooke screamed with delight. She picked Corey up and spun her around. Everyone breathed a big sigh of relief. Patty looked at the ceiling and whispered as she made something that looked like the sign of the cross, but Lindsay couldn’t be sure. “Okay, girls, quiet down now. We have to talk.” Lindsay turned her attention to Corey. “Sweetie, I have to make one correction. It’s not all good because there’s still the matter of you having had unprotected sex.”
Brooke got a look of disgust on her face. “Ew.”
“That’s good, Brookey. I like that face,” Patty said. “Keep that face, and no boy will go near you for fear they’ll get puked on.” She winked. “Good strategy.”
Ren stepped forward. “How can I help, Corey?”
Corey fell into Ren’s arms. “You already did.”
Lindsay put her hand on Corey’s back while Ren held her. She had an overwhelming desire to wrap herself around both of them and assure them that everything would be okay. She pulled away and went to the sink. She needed to keep herself together for Corey. She needed to have full use of her voice and her brain, not be a jumbled blob of feelings she couldn’t control.
“Mom? Patty? Ren?”
Lindsay turned back around. Brooke had such a serious look on her face, she almost expected her to tell them she had a pregnancy scare too. “Yes, honey?”
“I’m calling a safe zone. For Corey.”
“Oh God.” Patty shook her head. “Don’t fall for it, Corey.”
“What I mean is, Corey doesn’t want to tell her parents about this, and I think we should all respect that.”
“Honey, that’s not a safe zone. That’s a secret zone,” Lindsay said.
“But her dad hates this kid. Like, with a passion hates him.”
Ren put up her hand. “I have a question. What’s a safe zone?”
“I’d be happy to explain it to you,” Patty said. “You see, tater tots are meant to be eaten with ketchup—”
“Cakes.” Lindsay didn’t want to hurt Patty’s feelings any more than she already had, but she couldn’t let her derail the conversation.
Patty put up a finger and whispered, “There’s only one way. One.”
Lindsay motioned to one of the barstools. “Corey, come and sit down.” She waved Ren over. “You too.” Once everyone was gathered around the island, she said, “Corey, I think you’re putting Ren in an awkward position by asking her to keep something this big from your mom. It could put a strain on their friendship, and I know you don’t want that.”
Corey shook her head. “No, I don’t.”
“And I know you’re close to your mom,” Lindsay said. “And if this happened to Brooke, I would definitely want to be there for her, so she didn’t feel all alone.” Lindsay reached across the island and grabbed Corey’s hand. “Let your mom help you with this. Maybe she’ll agree that it’s best not to tell your dad as long as you handle it together.”
Corey nodded. “Okay. I’ll tell her tonight.”
“Good.” Lindsay got a wink from Ren. Brooke came around the island and gave her a hug, then hugged Corey.
Patty wasn’t so quick to forgive, and Corey had noticed. Lindsay tried to tell Patty with her eyes that she needed to step up, but she didn’t get the message before Corey said, “Are you mad at me, Patty?”
“Honey, I’m disappointed. You need to own your sexuality. Be the powerful, in-charge woman that I know you are. And in the meantime, tell me who had sex with you and didn’t wear a condom, so I don’t hurt the wrong boy.”
“Aunt Patty!” Brooke said with a gasp. “Is that how you felt when Mom got pregnant with me? Were you mad at my mom and dad?”
Patty started to answer, but Lindsay intervened. “Honey, yes. Everyone was pretty furious at both of us because we were so young, but then you came into the world, and everyone fell in love with you, and no one could be mad at anyone anymore. Including Patty.”
“Well, to be honest, it did take a few years before…” Patty stopped mid-sentence and tilted her head at Lindsay. “What? Okay, fine. Enough with the slicing your throat open, Linds. Find a new way to tell me to shut the hell up, would ya? Maybe a gentle swaying of your hips or something.”
“She could twerk,” Brooke suggested. “That way, it’s fun for everyone in the room.”
Ren held up her hand. “I second that.”
Patty’s hand shot up. “Corey, get your hand in the air so it’s unanimous.”
Corey raised her hand. “Enter it into the record that henceforth, Lindsay can only tell Patty to shut the hell up by twerking.”
Patty stood and raised her hands to the ceiling. “I’m free! I’m Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music free! I can say anything I want, anytime I want because we all know Lindsay can’t twerk to save her mother effing life!”
Ren burst out laughing. Corey and Brooke started twerking at each other and saying, “Shut up. No, you shut up.”
Lindsay joined in with the laughter. “Note to self…learn how to twerk.”
* * *
“Can I get you a glass of wine?” Lindsay motioned with her head at the girls, who’d moved to the family room. “I think it might be a little while before Corey’s ready to face her mom.”
“I hope it’s not an inconvenience,” Ren said. Of course, Lindsay was unaware that Ren had told Corey she could take her time. She was in no hurry. Being in Lindsay’s presence felt comfortable. Warm. Hot, if she didn’t stop thinking about Lindsay putting on a little twerk show for an audience of one later. But the look on Lindsay’s face when she turned and saw Patty getting twerk lessons from the girls let her know that it most likely wasn’t in the cards.
“Let’s, um…” Lindsay opened the door to the backyard. “I can’t watch that.”
“Lead the way.” Ren followed her to a wooden swing that hung from a large oak tree. It was a good-sized swing, and Lindsay crammed herself all the way to one side. Had Ren sat on the opposite end, there would have been three feet between them. She chose to sit a little closer.
Lindsay crossed her legs and gently pushed the swing with one foot. By the looks of the single drag mark in the grass, she sat right where she always did. The wine stain on the armrest told her it probably wasn’t where Brooke made a habit of sitting.
Ren felt a strange sense of honor, as if she’d been allowed into a special place. A thinking place. A dreaming place. A taking-stock-of-one’s-life place. A quiet escape from a
ll of the have-tos and must-dos.
“What a day,” Lindsay said, breaking the silence.
“What a day.” Ren smiled. “You know, it kind of felt like we were having a cup of instant Folger’s with Alice in the Brady Bunch house.”
“If Alice were thirty years older and felt the need to sew up your very cool jeans.”
Ren sighed. “A girl just tries to keep up with the trends.”
Lindsay pulled her phone out of her back pocket. “I need to learn how to distress my jeans.”
“You buy them that way.”
“Yeah, but I have a closet full of old jeans. Let’s YouTube it.”
Ren found her excitement adorable. “Okay. I’m here for it.” She leaned in so their shoulders were touching.
“Okay, but we can’t go down a YouTube rabbit hole. It’s frightening where a person can end up.” Lindsay put up her index finger. “One video. That’s it.”
Ren hardly ever watched videos on YouTube that didn’t have something to do with her profession, but she was very interested in this rabbit hole business. Especially if it meant she could sit close to Lindsay for a little while longer.
Lindsay hit pause on the video after they’d watched most of it. “I’m so doing that to some of my old jeans. It’ll be fun!”
Ren tried for a casual tone and pointed at another video. “Do you mind if we watch that one?”
“Oh, that one’s hilarious.” Lindsay hit the play button.
Twenty minutes later, they’d watched cats riding Roombas, bot fly extractions, parrots having full-on conversations with each other, and Taylor Swift’s latest video.
Lindsay put her phone away and said, “I think after all of that, you’re not only prepared for Mrs. Stokely, you’re prepared for anything that comes your way.”
“Yes,” Ren said. “I now feel completely confident in my ability to extract a bot fly from my own body with detailed commentary from my parrots while my cat cleans the house, and we all sing along to Taylor Swift. If the need ever arises.”
“Not so fast,” Lindsay said. “You forgot about the jeans.”
“Right. Yeah, I think I should just let Dr. Pimple Popper remove the bot fly and buy the jeans when I go to see her in LA. The cat and birds will have to fend for themselves while I’m gone. Frisky knows how to use the Roomba. It’ll be fine.”