“Speaking of here,” Dex said. “I heard Devyn Winters is back here in the Bay.”
“You are correct. She is back,” Elizabeth told him, helping herself to his oversized box of candy and stealing a handful. “I mean, as expected. Her sister went missing, and now she’s pretty banged up.”
“Her much nicer sister,” Dexter said, nodding. “I remember when the Senior Stars mistakenly invited me to their end-of-the-year blowout and then rescinded the invitation when they noticed their mistake.” He shook his head and took a pull from his bottle.
“Sorry they did that to you, pal,” KC said and touched her beer to Dexter’s.
Dex had been a good friend of Elizabeth’s for most of her life but had moved more firmly into her inner circle alongside KC once Elizabeth moved back home after college. A skirt chaser in theory and practice, he was known for his impressive biceps, bald head, and generous spirit. Despite his borderline obsession with the gym, he always carried some form of snack food with him at all times. Purely a bonus, as far as Elizabeth was concerned, and it made her like him all the more. She didn’t believe in diets or anything at all related to them. Snacks made life better.
“As for me”—KC grabbed a handful for herself, popped a couple into her mouth, and mused—“I was never a Devyn fan, myself. The whole Senior Star tribe was insufferable. Shallow. Yes,” she said, nodding confidently. “That’s the word I’m looking for, and self-congratulatory for being beautiful and popular, which requires no skill set.”
“Well, if they had to be mean, at least they were hot,” Dex added.
KC chose to ignore that comment. “They were like this vortex of vapid. Devyn was right there in the center of it, despite the fact that she was smarter than the others. She was head cheerleader, right?”
“Along with Cricket. She hired On the Spot to wax her fleet of vehicles and asked for Kevin, the twenty-year-old with the abs, to be the waxer. That’s the God’s honest, absolute truth.”
“Not at all surprised,” KC said. “Devyn likely isn’t any better.”
Elizabeth agreed wholeheartedly with their assessment of younger Devyn. She’d all but ignored Elizabeth in high school in favor of the more exciting types. She’d always gotten good grades but never really engaged with study groups, nor had she ever traded more than five words with Elizabeth at a time. Yet Elizabeth was hesitant to say anything bad about Devyn, given the difficult time she was having. Somehow, it just didn’t seem right. “You never know. She might be entirely different now. People can change as they grow.”
“Do the other Senior Star cheerleaders seem different to you?” Dexter asked, scrolling his phone, likely for the most recent Braves score. The aggressive punching gesture he made silently in the air meant they were winning. “The only reason they give me the time of day now is that they’re bored with their husbands.”
It was true. The women of Dreamer’s Bay found Dexter easy on the eyes and took turns flirting with him to pass the time—and, okay, propositioning him on the sly, too. Though Dexter had grown up to be ridiculously handsome, with a fitness model’s body, he hadn’t always had an easy time of it. His family had moved to the Bay when he was in the sixth grade and he was the gangly kid with thick glasses. Elizabeth winced at the memory of his reception the day the principal first introduced him to their homeroom class. “They called you Poindexter.”
“Yeah, and it stuck for the next six years. I was a pointy-headed nerd. I can admit that shit, and when we moved to town there were, what? Five black families? I already felt like a fish out of water being the sixth. To be labeled awkward, too?” He shook his head. “Damn, man. Not my favorite years.”
KC leaned over and swung an arm around his broad shoulders. “You’re a total glow-up story, Dex. Just look at you now. Muscly and chiseled and with that little dimple right there.” She touched it with her forefinger.
He pumped his eyebrows. “You’re into me.”
“I’m not. I’m married.”
“If you weren’t.”
She shook her head. “I’d let you down easy.”
“Yeah, well,” he shifted his focus, “Liz would be into me if she weren’t gay.”
KC laughed. “You don’t know that.”
His face fell, so Elizabeth patted his forearm. “If that’s what you want. Sure. You’re very handsome in a cue ball kinda way, and if I were all up in the man business, I’d probably be drooling right now. There. How was that?” She stole another milk ball, thought better of it, and stole three more. She was a candy whore on the take and happy about it.
Dex sat a little taller, nodding about his false victory. “Well, so long as there’s a chance.” A pause. “Speaking of gay. Devyn Winters is. You into her?”
Elizabeth frowned. “She is not. And just because two people are gay, it doesn’t mean they will automatically be into each other. Look at Linda from the movie theater. She’s gay, and I can’t stand her. Then there’s Raven from the mini-mall. We barely speak, except in passing. There’s Tammy and Lindsay, who are both very attractive and from what I understand single, but you don’t see me chasing them down just because. There’s not a secret club.”
“You left Thalia off that list,” Dexter said blandly. Her friends were not fans.
KC nodded. “That’s because she’s writing love poetry about her in her head as we sit here.”
“I am not,” Elizabeth said. “I’m an awful writer.” A pause. “But I would if I thought she’d like them.” She sighed at how pathetic she was.
“I don’t get why the one woman you’re into has to be such a dick. Ironic, man.”
“Listen, she’s got a lot of things going on,” Elizabeth offered, in what felt like a lame defense even to her. Thalia Perkins did have a track record of canceling their plans or ghosting her altogether for weeks at a time after flirting with her here and there until she got bored. Somehow, though, Elizabeth couldn’t seem to shake the crush she’d developed. Just when she did something to make Elizabeth say no more, Thalia would toss her dark hair or bat her gorgeous dark eyes and reel her right back in. Then there was the way she sort of half smiled that would just make everything okay again. Yep. Elizabeth kept coming back for more. She didn’t really like what that said about her.
KC raised her hand and yanked Elizabeth back from the wonderful and confusing land of Thalia Perkins into the fold of the conversation. “I think Devyn is, though. Gay. I googled her at some point when I was on my ‘where are they now’ kick last year. She’s had what looked to be girlfriends.”
Huh. Not only did that surprise Elizabeth, but it rattled her, intrigued her, and turned her mind into a hamster wheel of energy that honestly surprised her. Why would she care enough to react energetically? Plenty of people were gay. Millions. Beyond that, how the hell had she missed this?
KC leaned in. “I think we only point it out because your pond is a little small in these parts, and maybe that’s one detail that would be…of interest to you.”
Elizabeth balked at the idea. “You think I’d be into Devyn Winters? Popular and shallow, and oblivious to my existence for our entire adolescent history? Yes, she seems nicer now, but still.” She left off beautiful on purpose, but Devyn was definitely that. Even more so these days, in her adult sophistication and the way she carried herself with such authority. The authority part was really nice and sent a shiver down her back. She shrugged it off as she chewed her milk ball. “Besides, she’s here because Jill needs her, and the least we can do is make her feel welcome. Senior Stars snobbery or not. Is ‘snobbery’ a word?”
“Yep,” KC said. “But the thesis statement remains. You’re a bighearted goober, always have been, and you deserve more in your life than Thalia, for God’s sake.” She stood reluctantly and shrugged. “But I can’t count gay people all afternoon, nor reminisce with you two any longer. My child needs to eat, and that means I have to forage. That’s who I am now,” she said with a heavy sigh and pulled her curly brown hair into a ponytail as
if preparing for battle. “Not sexy and alluring, but a forager.”
“There’s a dreamy blond doctor who thinks you’re sexy and alluring,” Elizabeth pointed out. KC’s husband was a transfer from Charleston. She’d snagged him within months of his arrival in town, much to the chagrin of every other single straight woman in a thirty-mile radius, and the two of them still had goo-goo eyes for each other—sigh-worthy on many levels.
“That he does,” KC said. “Thanks for that reminder. Now I just might have sex tonight.” With that, her shoulders went back and her boobs went up, and she sashayed right out of Elizabeth’s kitchen.
“She just needs a little encouragement,” Elizabeth informed Dexter once they were alone.
He nodded. “You’re good with encouragement, Liz. You make people feel better about themselves. Your gift.”
“Thank you.” She shrugged. “When someone needs a confidence booster, I think it’s nice to give it to them. Devyn, for one, could use a friendly face. I don’t care what history says about her, I plan to continue to be just that.”
“Cool.”
They stared at each other.
“Do you want me to get out of your kitchen now?” he asked.
“Unless you want to help me do laundry, dishes, and balance my bank account. Actually, it could be really fun if we did it together.” She made a show of brightening like it was her best idea yet.
“I’m outta here. Meeting Misty from the gym for dinner,” he said, and hightailed it to the back door. His place backed up to Elizabeth’s, making the travel time between houses about twenty seconds from back gate to back gate.
“Isn’t this your second date? You haven’t had a lot of second dates lately. This is big news in Dexter-land.”
He laughed. “Dude, I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t even recognize myself. She’s a nice girl. What can I say?”
“You gonna marry her?”
He pulled his face back. “Let’s not get crazy. But my plans beat the hell outta yours.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she said, scoffing.
He blinked at her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but your Friday night to-do list is depressing as hell. Don’t forget to live a little, okay? Maybe put the checkbook calculator away and head out on the town.”
“Hey, I’m living. Living the glamorous laundry life.” She did a little dance that seemed to fall flat. “No? Not the laundry life?” She danced a little more. “Nothing?”
He shook his head in sadness. “Never say that sentence to anyone. And secondly, nah. You don’t live the glamorous life either. You’re too busy making everyone else’s life better. Consider doing the same for your damn self. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I do. I bought that geranium for myself last week. You’re forgetting.”
“When is the last time you got laid, Liz?”
Her mouth fell open. “I’m not answering that.”
“You don’t have to. It was that hook-up over a year ago with the woman from the painting class, and that’s way too long.”
She shrugged. “I guess it’s been a little while. Yeah.”
“My advice? Get your head out of the clouds and your clothes on the floor. If you need some tips on how to score chicks, just let me know.” He smiled his contagious / annoying smile, popped a milk ball, and headed out for his own exciting existence. Women, late nights, and shots at the bar. That’s what drove Dexter these days. She wondered what it must be like to be sought after the way he was. What was so great about Dex was that he’d known the other side of that coin. He remembered what it was like to be picked on, less than popular, and was thereby always kind, and never took his good looks or universal appeal for granted.
Once he left, she ruminated on his comment about her boring life, balked, shrugged, and glanced around her empty kitchen. “I live. I do.” She finished the last sip of her beer and shot the empty can in the direction of the garbage, achieving the perfect arc…and then watched it fall limply onto the kitchen floor with a bang. Huh. Surely that wasn’t a metaphor. Surely.
She sighed and shifted her lips to the side in defeat.
Maybe she should start some sort of club. Chair a new committee. She thought of Devyn, who would poke fun at her and roll her eyes. She smiled and got to work on that laundry, and then replayed that daydream of Devyn all over again.
* * *
Devyn had memorized the nurses’ names, though it was hard to predict who they’d have on which days. Their schedules didn’t seem to follow any rhyme or reason. Because some were more helpful than others, she made a point of always being there first thing in the morning in case Jill needed extra assistance with anything. When Jill rested, Devyn worked, often not seeing the outside again until late each night.
“Are you working?” a voice asked, quietly.
Devyn swiveled in the recliner that Tuesday morning to see Elizabeth standing there with a brown bag. She blinked, her brain caught in a fog of paperwork and email. Jill slept nearby. “Hey. Yeah, I was.”
Elizabeth held a palm up in warning. “I will not bother you. I promise.” She walked into the room with slow, overexaggerated steps, as if walking on literal egg shells, and handed the bag to Devyn before backing away toward the door in the same, weird fashion.
“What is this?” Devyn asked, opening the bag. When the smell of fresh bread hit her, she all but melted into a puddle.
“A warm turkey, cranberry, and cream cheese sandwich from McConnell’s Deli. I was picking up lunch and thought you could maybe use a sandwich yourself. You tend to work through meals from what I’ve seen.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” But Elizabeth had, and the food smelled so good that Devyn practically wept.
“I wanted to. Oh, and there are some fresh-cut fries at the bottom of the bag. Now I will leave and not bother you with my chatter.” She zipped her lips and turned, showcasing a killer pair of jeans that looked like they’d been cut to showcase her specific shape.
“Wait.” Devyn sighed, owning that she hadn’t always been the friendliest when caught up with work. “You don’t have to go.”
Elizabeth gestured behind her. “Actually, I do. Got a couple of poodles that need grooming and I’m in charge of making sure that happens. I’m thinking a rainbow Mohawk.”
“Please tell me you’re not serious.”
Elizabeth pointed at her and broke into a grin. “I’m not. In fact, I’m simply driving the duo to Margie Urbina, who’s accredited. I’ll be back on Thursday to spend time with Jill. Bye, now.” And before Devyn could answer, Elizabeth was gone.
Left to her thoughts in the quiet room, Devyn stared at the warm bag in her lap and smiled. Okay, so maybe stars and hearts went a long way after all.
* * *
“So, we put in an over full-ask offer and still wound up in a bidding war for the ages,” Devyn said. “It was honestly one of the most exhilarating deals I’ve been a part of when repping a buyer.”
“In what way?”
“Well, for one, the eccentric millionaire seller asked that each potential buyer submit a paragraph stating what they would do with the property should he sell it to them. Was totally in love with the place like someone would be a pet and had no intention of selling it to someone with big renovation plans for the place.”
Jill chuckled. “Sounds like something off one of those reality shows on HGTV.”
“It honestly felt like one,” Devyn said, sliding her chair closer to Jill’s bed. It was just after three in the morning and Devyn had decided to stay the night at the hospital after noticing her sister’s spirits seemed to have taken a dip. She’d grown noticeably quieter and had a difficult time sleeping. Her normal “look on the positive side of things” disposition had been nonexistent the past two days, and it was obvious that this whole ordeal was beginning to drag her under. Devyn couldn’t stand it, and tonight, she didn’t feel right leaving her alone. She sat forward. “I was fielding calls left and right from the sel
ler’s broker with counteroffers, contingencies, and of course, the essay evaluation. He sent notes.”
“Notes?” Jill laughed.
“Notes,” Devyn said, laughing along with her. “Grammatical corrections and everything. The guy was comma obsessed and sent apostrophe tips in the footnotes. Yes, there were footnotes. We had to resubmit like some sort of reprimanded sixth grader.”
“Now, those, I’m familiar with. So, what happened?” Jill pushed a hand behind her and sat up with a wince, blinking at Devyn in the dimly lit room. It made her happy to see Jill captivated by the story, a small distraction from her painful recovery. She’d tell her a thousand more if they helped at all.
“In the end, my guy got the condo, and I’ve learned a valuable lesson about proofreading my client’s work ahead of time.”
“Victory,” Jill said, with her less bruised hand in the air. They smiled at each other for a moment and Jill softened. “I’m really glad you’re here, Dev. Not because I need your help, and I do, but it’s just nice to see you, you know? Spend time with you.”
Devyn nodded. “It’s really nice to see you, too, Jilly. We shouldn’t wait so long next time.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.” Another pause, but the comfortable kind. “Remember when Mom used to make us warm toast with extra chunky peanut butter when we were feeling sick or sad or low? To this day, I love peanut butter warm.”
“God, yes. Nothing ever tasted so good, and it worked, too. Life felt…manageable again when you had that warm toast on a plate in front of you. You let your problems just slide away.”
She could make out the tears glistening in Jill’s eyes in spite of the darkened room. “I could go for some warm peanut butter toast about now, ya know?”
Devyn smiled, her heart squeezing unpleasantly. She stared at the ceiling as guilt engulfed her. “Mom would have been so much better at this than I am. I keep asking myself what she would do and I know I’m falling short.”
“No,” Jill said, firmly. “You’ve been so wonderful, dropping everything to be here for me.” Jill met her gaze firmly. “I know that was hard for you. You’re incredibly driven, Devyn, and I admire that about you so much. But you put me first.” She placed a palm over her heart. “It matters so much.”
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