by Elle Spencer
“And that time, you left out Taylor Swift,” Lindsay said.
“Oh, Dr. Pimple Popper is a total Swiftie. She’ll pull the bot fly out of my armpit while we sing along to ‘Shake It Off.’”
Lindsay tucked her phone back in her pocket. “You had to make it worse with the armpit thing, didn’t you?”
“Well, it’s definitely not the worst place a bot fly could decide to call home.”
“True.” Lindsay folded her arms. “I’m still going to protect my armpits for the next twenty-four hours, just in case.”
Ren laughed. She turned to Lindsay and put her leg on the swing and her arm on the backrest. She wanted to reach over and run her fingers through Lindsay’s hair. She wanted to have her close again like they’d been in front of Mrs. Stokely’s house before Ben and Brooke drove up.
“It’s getting chilly.” Lindsay looked at her. “You’re not really dressed for it, what with all the rips in your jeans.”
“Yeah, I’m not burning up over here at all.”
Lindsay’s eyes darted back to hers. Those always questioning eyes. Ren wanted to answer all her questions. She wanted to start by saying, yes, Lindsay, that was me letting you know that I’ve been burning up since I met you, but Lindsay turned away.
Ren decided it was best to lighten the moment. “Ripped jeans or not, I think I won Mrs. Stokely over so well, you should definitely not be surprised if she takes a pair of her husband’s old jeans and tries to duplicate the look.”
“Mrs. Stokely never had a husband,” Lindsay said. “But it would certainly make my day to see her roll up to You Mocha Me Feel Young in her 1979 Buick LeSabre and step out of the car lookin’ all fly in ripped jeans and a white tee.”
Ren laughed. “Oh my God. So it’s not just me who takes great pleasure in teasing Deb about the name she chose for her coffee shop?”
“I call it You Mocha Me Faint now.” They stared at each other for a split second, then broke into a fit of laughter.
Patty stepped outside and shouted, “Since this isn’t a serious conversation, may I join you?” She didn’t wait for permission, and when she got to the swing, she turned around and said, “Keep swinging. I got this.” She waited for the swing to hit her butt and squeezed in between them.
It was a tight fit, but Ren didn’t move her leg or her arm that was now wrapped around Patty. She sped up the pace by pushing hard with her foot. Maybe she could give Patty a little case of motion sickness so she’d go back in the house. Not that she didn’t like Patty, but she wanted to get to know Lindsay.
Patty gave Ren a side-eye. “You’re really hot and all, but I could use a little breathing room here.”
“Sorry.” Ren put her leg down and slid over a bit. She noticed that Patty stayed right where she was, glued to Lindsay.
“What a day,” Patty said.
“What a day,” Ren and Lindsay replied in unison.
Patty tucked her fingers behind her ears. “In stereo. Cool. Say it again.”
Ren hid her amusement. Patty was funny and cute but not her type. Lindsay with the sassy teenage daughter and the eyes of a philosopher was a different story. She liked that Lindsay appeared to be a deep thinker. And her talent as an artist was very impressive. She’d always been a sucker for artists. And then there was the way Lindsay seemed to come a bit unraveled by Ren’s proximity. Of course, if she was honest with herself, she also came a bit undone.
Patty had put a sudden end to all of that. and Ren wanted it back. She leaned forward enough to catch a glimpse of Lindsay. Patty blocked her view and said, “Do you believe in past lives?”
“What?” Ren shook her head in confusion. “I mean, what?”
“You know, the belief that after we die, we’re reborn as someone else. Because I’m super into that, so if we’re going to be friends, you need to be cool with it.”
“Um.” Ren noticed Lindsay shoot her friend a glare. “I don’t really—”
“It’s cool,” Patty said. “We can still be friends, but I’ll probably have to bring you over to the dark side.”
“Dark side of what?”
“Oh. Not a Star Wars fan?” Patty tapped her chin. “This could be a real problem.”
“I get the reference,” Ren said. “I’m just not sure what you’re referring to.”
“Past lives. Lived before this life.” Patty turned on the swing so they were face-to-face. “I know it’s a weird thing to believe in, but aren’t all religions full of weird, otherworldly stuff? And no one thinks anything of it, but say the words past lives, and people tend to think you’re off your rocker, you know?”
Ren was at a loss for words. What was all of this nonsense that seemed to come out of nowhere? And why the hell did Patty have to come out there and stomp all over what could’ve been a great conversation with Lindsay? Ren found herself annoyed by the whole thing.
“I don’t know if that or any other belief about preexistence is a real thing or not,” she said. “What I do believe is that it’s not relevant to who we are and what we do today. It doesn’t explain anything or absolve us of bad decisions.”
“Oh.” Patty looked at Lindsay, who’d turned away. It was obvious they both felt annoyed by the change of topic. She turned back to Ren and said, “So you’ve never met someone you feel like you knew before?”
“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I really did. At least, not in a past life. But if you need to believe you were royalty in ancient Egypt with a staff of three hundred, then by all means, don’t let me stop you. It’s not my place to tell you how to live.”
“Well, if that’s the case, I’ve really come down the ladder in status,” Patty said. “How the hell did I go from being Cleopatra to living in Salt Creek?” She tapped her chin. “And when did I start liking girls?” She leaned forward and timed her exit from the swing, then hopped off. “Your conversations are too deep for me. I’m out, ladies.”
“See you soon, Cleo.” Ren grinned. “Maybe in the next life, we’ll all be slaves to Skynet.”
“Ha! I get dibs on being Linda Hamilton’s slave girl.”
Ren turned to Lindsay. “She threw in a Star Wars reference, so I thought I’d terminate…okay, then.” Ren knew how to read a room. Or a swing, as it were. Lindsay didn’t look the least bit amused. In fact, she seemed guarded, with her arms folded tightly across her chest.
“Patty’s not crazy,” Lindsay said.
“I didn’t say she was.” Lindsay went to stand, but Ren grabbed her arm. “Hey, where are you going?”
“Who knows what bad advice Patty’s doling out like candy in there? I should go back in.”
“Okay, but can I ask you something first? It’s actually why I wanted to speak with you privately.”
Lindsay gave her a nod. “Something about Mrs. Stokely?”
“No. Something about us.”
“Okay.” She turned on the swing so they were face-to-face.
“Have we ever met before? Maybe years ago, when I would come here with Deb on the weekends?” Ren realized she was still hanging on to Lindsay’s arm. She let go.
Lindsay continued to stare. It was that look again. That penetrating, questioning look. “Why would you ask that?”
Lindsay’s softer, fragile tone almost made Ren regret that she’d asked the question when so much else was going on. “I don’t know why. It’s just a feeling. I feel like we’ve met somewhere before.”
Lindsay shot off the swing. “I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I’d remember you.”
Ren got up and followed her toward the house. She grabbed Lindsay’s arm again to stop her. “Can I see your studio? I mean, I did pay a small fortune for that painting of the boy. I’d love to see what else you’re working on.” Ren cringed inside. Was a guilt trip really the best she could do?
“I mostly do commissioned work. Portraits.” Lindsay folded her arms again. “Why did you buy that painting when you knew nothing about the artist?”
“I don’t have to know the win
ery to like the wine.” She pondered the question a moment further. “It spoke to me. It drew me in. I felt it.” She reached for Lindsay’s hand, brought it to her mouth, and kissed it. Lindsay relaxed under her touch, but her breaths became shallower as her eyes focused on their joined hands. Ren didn’t need any more proof that she wasn’t alone in this feeling of connection and attraction.
Ren raised a hand to Lindsay’s cheek. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered.
Lindsay’s gaze dropped from Ren’s eyes to her lips. “Come with me.” She took Ren’s hand and led her through the trees behind the swing.
“Where are we going?” Ren didn’t really care. She loved the feel of Lindsay’s hand in hers. She felt practically giddy at the thought of whatever might happen next.
Ren glanced back at the house. They were well out of view due to the small grove. Would they kiss back here? Would time stop so they could forget about Corey’s pregnancy scare and Patty’s nonsensical musings?
“Ren? Are you out here?”
Lindsay stopped and turned. “Corey,” she whispered.
Ren didn’t want to go. She wanted whatever would happen next, even if her brain was screaming rational thoughts like, “Don’t get involved. Especially not now. Right before you go to Paris. Deb needs you to be here for Corey right now. Remember how you were going to avoid drama?” And then, of course, there was the overriding thought: “Doesn’t this beautiful woman standing in front of you have great legs, and wouldn’t those legs feel good wrapped around your hips?”
Okay, so that last thought wasn’t so rational. It was the God’s honest truth but not so rational. When it came to Lindsay, Ren didn’t feel rational at all. She took a step back. “I should go see what she needs.”
Lindsay held her stare for a moment, then gave her a nod. Ren wanted to tell her that the disappointment was mutual. “Can I have a rain check?” Lindsay smiled, which made Ren smile. “I mean, no pressure or anything, but this is a moment I want back.”
Corey came through the trees. Ren turned to her. “Hey. I was just saying good-bye to—” She turned, but Lindsay was gone. Ren kept her eyes on the darkness. “Are you ready to go home?”
“I can’t put it off forever,” Corey said. “But Lindsay’s right. I need my mom right now, even if she grounds me for three years.”
A light became visible through the trees from what looked like a little cottage. “That’s where she paints,” Corey said. “I’ve only been in there once, and that was only because she wanted me to stop asking what it was like inside. I was so totally over it once I saw it. It’s just paints and easels and stuff. Was she taking you back there?”
“I’m not sure.” Ren forced a smile and put her arm around Corey. “Let’s get you home.”
* * *
Patty burst into the studio out of breath. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Lindsay was far from okay. She’d hardly slept the night before because she couldn’t shut it all out. The betrayal she felt because of Patty’s actions. The anger she felt because of Ren’s response, coupled with the strongest attraction she’d ever experienced for another person. All of it had kept her tossing and turning in the night. “Do I look okay, Cakes?”
“I don’t know. Do you have internal bleeding or something else I can’t see because you used the emergency code, so I rushed back here.”
“This is you rushing? You live five minutes away, and it’s going on twenty since I texted you. Maybe we need to change the emergency code from Ruh Ro Raggy to something more serious, like Get the hell over here, Velma.”
“Oh God. I had such a crush on her growing up. The glasses and the brains totally did it for me.”
“Okay, scratch that. I need you to focus on me. The emergency code stays the same.”
“Fine. But just for the record, I was mid-poop when the code came through, and you can’t rush these things, or you get hemorrhoids. And I don’t know if you’ve ever googled hemorrhoids, but it’s not pretty.”
Lindsay slapped her forehead. “Oh my God. Sometimes, it feels like I’m living in a Three Stooges episode.” She pulled a stool closer and motioned for Patty to sit. “Cakes, why in the world would you say all of that past life stuff to Ren?”
Patty put up a finger. “First of all, you’re welcome. And number two—”
“Okay, stop.” Lindsay took a deep breath so she wouldn’t lose her temper. “Why should I be grateful that you told Ren my business?”
“Oh! Is that what I did? Because what I thought I did was take one for the team. At least we know now that you bringing up the whole Roo is Ren and Ren is Roo thing would be a mistake.”
“So you were trying to protect me?”
“When it comes to this, you’re fragile, Linds. You are defiant about it and stand by what you know to be true. But it would break your heart if you bared your soul and she scoffed at it. And now we know what the likely outcome would be. So, yes, I was trying to keep you from getting hurt.”
Lindsay reached for Patty’s hand. The anger she’d felt dissipated. “I was so ready to yell at you for doing that, but I should’ve known your heart was in the right place.”
“It always is when it comes to you.” Patty stood and opened her arms. “Let’s hug it out. Oh, wow.” She let go of Lindsay and focused on the painting of Roo. “Her eyes are amazing, Linds.”
“Her eyes are everything.” Lindsay covered the painting back up. “She’ll be gone soon enough.”
“Will she? Or will she be like the boy?”
“This is different. Don’t look at me that way.”
Patty put up her hands in defense. “I didn’t say a thing.”
She didn’t have to. Skepticism was oozing out of every pore. Of course it was. How many times had Lindsay said she’d stop painting the boy only to paint him again? And again. And again. And now, she was certain Ren was Roo. Her Roo. Would she start painting her too?
“I’ll be glad when Ren is on the other side of the ocean.” She didn’t even convince herself with that statement, but she needed the conversation to end. She opened the door and motioned for Patty to walk outside first, then locked the door behind them. “Have you eaten? I’m starving.”
“I could eat a pink poodle.” Patty scrunched her nose. “Ew. Why does that sound so much worse than eating a horse?”
“And specifically, pink. You’re so weird, Cakes.”
“Some people dye their dog’s fur bright colors.” Patty gasped as if she’d had an epiphany. “Hey, can I borrow Sir Barksalot for a few hours?”
“Oh my God, yes! Please dye him pink. It will kill Ben.”
Patty stopped. “I was kidding, but damn, girl. Is there no bottom to your dog custody revenge?”
Lindsay shrugged. “No. I’m sure I could go lower.”
* * *
At Ren’s suggestion, she and Deb went outside and sat by the firepit. Deb had been strong and supportive during the conversation, but Ren could tell what she really wanted to do was scream at her daughter for being so irresponsible. If they were far enough away from the house, maybe Deb could let off a little steam without the kids hearing.
Ren patted her leg. “You did good in there.”
Deb put her hand out. “Hold my hand?”
“Of course.” She covered Deb’s hand with both of hers.
“If I can’t tell Colby about this, I need someone to lean on, and babe, you’re it.”
“I got you.” Ren wrapped her arms around Deb.
“Corey has responsibility here too. Six conversations,” Deb said. “Six times we talked about safe sex and birth control. I told her we could go to the doctor together when she was ready. How many times does it take before your kid actually listens to you? Ten? Fifteen? Fifty? ’Cause it sure ain’t six.”
Ren knew she didn’t expect a response from her childless best friend regarding the nuances of child-rearing, but she thought she’d give it a try anyway. “I never listened to my mother. In one ear and out the othe
r.”
Deb giggled under her breath. “Remember when I said I needed someone to lean on? Yeah, scratch that.”
“Nope. You can’t take it back,” Ren said. “Two footprints in the sand.”
Deb giggled again. She rested her head on the back of the chair and looked at the sky. “You’re terrible at consoling, but God, you make me laugh.”
Ren tucked her hands in her coat pockets. “So what’s the plan?”
“Kill that kid who had unprotected sex with my daughter with my bare hands. Death by asphyxiation.”
Ren gave her a nod. “Yeah, I’d probably cut his balls off before he took his last breath and whisper in his ear, ‘Next time, use a condom, fucker.’”
“Wow. Thanks for making mine sound tame.”
Ren shrugged. “I’ve got your back.”
“I know you do, Ren. You always have. And if we’re being honest, I never listened to my mother either.”
“No one does. If my mom had known half of the shit I did in high school, I never would’ve seen the light of day.”
“Ditto,” Deb said. “For some reason, I thought it would be different for me. I was going to be the super cool mom whose kids weren’t afraid to talk about anything. So much for that plan.”
“Eh, you’re super cool in my book. Like, way, way cool.”
Deb put out her fist. “Word.”
“Brooke called this kid a loser. Why would a smart girl like Corey date a loser?”
“Colby and I have wondered the same thing, but the harder we tried to talk some sense into her, the more she wanted to defy us. So we backed off, worried that she’d run off with him. The kid is handsome, and he knows it. Always wears a cocky grin. But his grades are terrible, and he ditches classes on the regular.”
“I guess he thinks he’ll get by on his looks.”
“He’ll probably have to.” Deb covered her face with her hands. “Oh my God, what if she’d really been pregnant?”
“What’s this kid’s name again?”