by Dena Blake
“Here.” Grace handed them to her one at a time with a glass of water to chase them down. “Now drink some tea, and then you can lie back down.”
She took a few sips of tea and handed it back to Grace before crawling into the bed fully clothed in her sweatpants and hoodie. Grace handed her the remote to the TV and put a fresh box of tissues on the bed next to her.
“Get some rest. I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.” She patted her on the leg and then went to the door.
“Hey, Grace.”
Grace stuck her head back through the doorway. “What do you need, honey?”
“There are some lights by the couch. They’re for my neighbor. He’s supposed to come by and get them later.”
“Got it.” She crossed the room and pulled the blanket up around Dex. “Just text me if you need something.”
“Thanks.” She hadn’t expected Grace to show up and take care of her, but it was nice that she had.
* * *
The door to Brent’s office had been closed all morning. Emma hadn’t seen him in the break room or in the hallway at all. It was clear he was avoiding her. He was one of her best friends, and she had to fix this wall she’d created between them. She hadn’t meant to make him think Grace was unfaithful. Well, maybe she had, but blaming him for her own mistake was way out of line.
She knocked lightly on the door before she heard him say, “Come in.”
“Can we talk for a minute?” She pushed the door open slowly, trying to gauge his mood before entering.
“Sure. Have a seat.” He glanced up briefly before he flipped his hand to one of the chairs in front of his desk.
Extreme politeness, not the best greeting. Emma crossed the room and sat on the edge of the seat. “Listen. I’m sorry I said all that stuff about Grace and Dex yesterday.”
He dropped his pen onto the desk and laced his hands in front of him. “You’re right. She leads Dex around like a puppy dog.”
“But she loves you.”
“Sometimes I wonder if I’m enough without the money.”
“You really suck at reading women.”
Brent’s eyebrows rose. The comment seemed to have shocked him. “It’s not like there’s a manual or anything.”
She threw her hands out in front of herself. “You have me.”
“Well, then tell me, oh master of women.”
She squinted and gave him a cheeky grin. “Ha ha. Very funny.”
“I’m serious. Tell me.”
She shook her head. “She doesn’t care about your money. She’s uber-rich on her own. If she cared about that, she sure as hell wouldn’t have married you. She would’ve found some other trust-fund yuppie to punish.”
He leaned in closer. “I’m listening.”
“She cares about how you treat her. Open the door for her, pull out her chair, and protect her from the bad shit—even if it’s her parents. But do it gently. Forget about the money. She can buy whatever she wants. Your wife is beautiful. If you don’t pay attention to her, soon enough, someone else will come along who will.”
“I’m trying, but I have no idea how her mind works. What she did to you and Dex is fucked up.”
He was right about that. If Grace hadn’t come between them, she’d be happy and in love with her right now. She pushed the thought from her mind. Then she cleared her throat and blinked to hold back the tears brimming in her eyes. “How is Dex?”
“She’s sick.”
Emma leaned forward in the chair. “Oh.” Her first thought was to go to her, take care of her, and tell her she’d always be there for her. But she couldn’t do that until Dex made up her mind.
“Yeah. I came home last night, and she was putting up the lights at my house.”
“By herself?”
“Yeah. I went out and helped her finish. She couldn’t stop coughing.”
“Does she have the flu?”
“She said it’s just a head cold.”
Emma got up, walked to the window, and stared out at the falling snowflakes. “I hope she’s not working today. It’s miserable out there.”
“Knowing Dex, she probably is. You know what she always says, ‘The lights have to be strung.’ She’s got a helluva work ethic.” Brent stood at the window next to her. “It does seem pretty bad out there. Maybe you should go see her.”
“Maybe.” She continued to watch the snow blow across the sky. “Anyway, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“It’s cool, Em.” He bumped her shoulder with his, and she knew things between them were good.
“Well. I’m going to head home. I don’t want to get stuck here all night.” It wasn’t like she had anything better to do.
“Okay. Be safe. Call me if you get stuck.”
“Will do.” She smiled as she left Brent’s office. Outside of her family, he was the most dependable person she knew and also a really good friend.
The forecast this morning had said the snow should stop in a few hours, but you never knew how accurate that was. They’d given only a 20 percent chance of precipitation today, and it was currently falling thick. Emma went into her office and gathered a couple of files she could work on at home if the snow got too heavy. She’d stop at the store on her way home to pick up provisions just in case. A big pot of soup sounded really good.
* * *
Emma pulled up in front of Dex’s house and sat for a moment watching the snow flurries. She was thankful it had slowed some since she’d left. Driving in these conditions was stressful and exhausting. Dex’s SUV was in the driveway, which meant she was probably sicker than she’d let on. She rarely took a day off.
The flurries waned as the knot in her stomach grew. Emma wasn’t sure if she was ready to see Dex again. It had sounded like a good idea when she was at the store. She’d gone home and made soup with chicken-bone broth and vegetables. She’d also made a small pan of cayenne brownies and tucked a note in with them in case Dex didn’t feel like eating them right away.
Now that she was here, her insecurities were taking hold like Gorilla Glue. She drew in a deep breath and blew it out. From what Brent had told her earlier, Dex probably needed some comfort food. So Emma just needed to get over herself and get out of the car. Bringing Dex something warm to eat and checking on her was the right thing to do, even if they weren’t seeing each other anymore.
She gathered the bag containing the soup and brownies from the front seat, maneuvered through the freshly fallen snow, and knocked on the door lightly. She didn’t want to wake her if she was asleep, although she hadn’t thought about what she’d do with the food if Dex didn’t answer. She was caught off guard when the door swung open and Grace was standing in the entryway.
Grace put her hand on her hip in her usual irritated fashion. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“Dex is sick, and I’m taking care of her.”
“Don’t you have a husband at home to take care of?”
“I take plenty good care of my husband. Not that it’s any of your business.”
Emma shook her head. “Listen, Grace. I didn’t come here to spar with you. I brought some soup for Dex.” She peered around Grace. “Is she up and about?”
“No. She’s upstairs sleeping. I’ll take it.” Grace reached out and took the soup from Emma’s hands before she could protest. “It’s not vegetable, is it? I’m not a fan of that.”
“It’s chicken vegetable, and the soup is for Dex, not you. Has she been to see the doctor? Are you making sure she has lots of fluids?”
“You don’t worry about Dex. I can take care of her.” She started to close the door, but Emma put her hand up and stopped it.
“You know, you may be able to take care of her, and you may also be her best friend, but you’ll never be her soul mate, Grace. You lost that opportunity when you married Brent.”
“Nothing has changed between Dex and me just because I got married.”
“M
aybe not for you, but it has for Dex. Don’t you think she deserves a chance at happiness? Or do you want her to be alone the rest of her life?”
“Well, you certainly didn’t make her happy. If you had, you’d be on this side of the door right now.” She nudged the door closed with her shoulder and left Emma standing on the porch in the snow.
Emma wanted to charge right through the door and demand to see Dex. She closed her eyes and took in a breath. No. She wouldn’t do that. She had no right. She was the one who’d broken off the relationship. It was a mistake to have come. If she wanted Dex to figure out what she wanted, she needed to leave her alone. Emma just wished Grace would do the same.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Grace couldn’t believe that woman had the nerve to show her face here after the crap she said to Brent, making him think something was going on between her and Dex and pushing Dex to think there could be something more. She hadn’t expected anything more from Dex than she always had, and if that was an issue for Emma, too bad. Dex needed a girlfriend who supported her, and that included supporting her friendship with Grace.
After rummaging through the pantry, she found some crackers and bottled water and put them in a shopping bag. She took a tray from the living room before she dipped out a bowl of the chicken soup Emma had made and a cup of only broth for herself. She added a placemat to the tray and set the soup on top before she reached into the silverware drawer for a spoon.
When she got upstairs, she was surprised to see Dex sitting up in bed flipping through the TV channels. She must be feeling better.
“Who was at the door?” Dex asked when she came into the room.
“Your neighbor, picking up the lights.” She sure wasn’t going to tell her it was Emma. That would only make Dex feel worse.
“Oh, good.” Dex pulled the blanket up around her waist and flattened it.
“I brought you some soup.” Grace slid the tray across Dex’s lap.
“Homemade? This looks awesome.”
Grace nodded. “I thought it might make you feel better.”
The spoon was in the soup before Grace crossed the room to the door. “This is delicious. Thanks, Grace.”
“You’re welcome.” Grace was more than happy to take credit for the soup.
Dex stared at the soup and scrunched her brows together.
“What’s wrong?” Emma had better not have put anything weird in the soup.
The vegetables splashed back into the bowl as Dex held up her spoon and tilted it. “Since when do you like vegetable soup?”
“I don’t. But I know you do, and the soup is for you.”
Dex smiled. “Now it tastes even better.” She took another bite.
While they ate their soup, they watched some comedy show that Grace had no clue about. Dex laughed a few times, which threw her into a coughing fit each time. Once Dex was finished, Grace took the empty bowls downstairs and put the leftover soup in the refrigerator. She hadn’t checked the bag for anything else until just now. It contained a small batch of brownies with a note. Grace read it and grimaced at the smiley face that punctuated the sentence. She crumpled it up and tossed it back in the bag. Ridiculous. These were going home with her. Panda hopped up onto the stool and stared at her.
“I guess you want to be fed too.” She found the bag of cat food in the pantry and poured some into the bowl on the floor. “I suppose you need water too.” She picked up the bowl, filled it, and set it next to the other bowl. “Hey, get out of there.” She swiped the bag of brownies from near Panda’s head, then picked her up and dropped her to the floor. Then she rolled up the top of the bag and stuffed it into her purse.
When Grace went back upstairs, Dex was covered up to her neck with the blanket.
“Can you turn up the heat?” Her voice wavered as she shivered. “I’m really cold.”
“On it.” Grace went into the hall and checked the thermostat, which was set to seventy-two, plenty warm. Dex probably had a fever. She took another blanket from the hall cabinet and spread it across the bed before she crawled in under the blankets next to Dex and wrapped herself around her. “I’ve got you.” Dex closed her eyes and was immediately asleep again.
Grace’s body shook along with Dex’s as the chills vibrated through her. She held her tight, warming her with her own body heat. She had to get this fever to break.
Dex thrashed back and forth in bed, calling out Emma’s name numerous times during the night. Sometime during that time, Dex’s fever had broken. Suddenly her clothes had been drenched, and Grace had helped her change. After that, Dex turned onto her side and slept calmly for the rest of the night. Grace had mixed feelings about the fact it wasn’t her name Dex had called out instead of Emma’s. After all, she was the one here taking care of her.
* * *
Grace had gotten up and left early. She’d said she needed to get to the grocery store. Brent had invited friends over to watch the game again, and they needed snacks, which was fine with Dex. She wasn’t up to having the conversation she needed to with her this morning. It was sweet of Grace to make the chicken soup, and she didn’t know if she would’ve made it through the night without her. But when Dex had woken this morning with Grace wrapped around her, the proximity had been too intimate. She’d actually thought it was Emma until she’d turned over. Wishful thinking. She’d known it was a long shot, but she’d hoped that Emma would’ve at least sent her a text to check on her. That was a silly thought, though. Emma probably had no idea she was even sick.
When she entered the kitchen, Panda was flipping something around on the floor, and it wasn’t one of her toys. The cat had a habit of stealing things from the counter, the dresser, or wherever she perched. Dex tried to get it, but the little bugger was going to fight her for it. She finally wrestled it away and flattened the crumpled piece of note paper on the counter.
They’re probably not as good as yours, but I tried.
It was from Emma. The pink paper with the faded rose border, the handwriting, the sweet smiley face punctuating the sentence was all her. What the fuck? What wasn’t as good as mine?
Panda yelled at her with a ferocious meow. “Okay, I’m working on it,” she said as she folded up the note and slipped it into her pocket. She filled the cat’s dish, freshened her water, and rubbed the top of her head.
Dex was headed out the door when she spotted the stack of Christmas lights she’d left for her neighbor next to the couch. Maybe Grace had given him the wrong ones. She glanced at another stack she had piled by the entryway.
She gathered them up, headed next door, and knocked on the door. The door swung open almost immediately. “Hey, Chevy. How’s it going?” he asked.
Her neighbor had a thing for cars, and when he didn’t know someone’s name or couldn’t remember, he called them by the make or model of their car. Dex had stopped telling him her name a long time ago.
“Good.” She held the boxes out in front of her. “I think my friend may have given you the wrong lights last night when you came by.”
He seemed confused. “Um, no. I hadn’t made it over there yet.” He took them from her.
“Oh. I must’ve misunderstood.”
“Maybe it was the hot girl who came to see you. The Ford, not the Beemer.”
Ford? Had Emma come by and Grace hadn’t told her? “Oh. Well, you have them now. You need any help putting them up?”
“Nope. I got it. Dodge, the new guy across the street is gonna help me after the game.” He set the boxes just inside the door. “Thanks for picking them up for me. It saved me a whole lot of money.”
“Sure, no problem. Merry Christmas,” she said as she turned to go.
“Merry Christmas to you too, Chevy.”
She sprinted back to her house, climbed into her SUV, and headed to Grace’s house. If Emma had come by, Grace should’ve told her no matter how sick she was.
The door into the house from the garage was open when Dex got there, so she stopped in the doorway w
hen she heard Grace and Brent arguing. Their voices were muffled at first, but then Brent raised his voice, and she clearly heard him say, “Emma told me she went to see Dex, and you told her she didn’t want to see her and sent her away.”
“Dex wouldn’t have wanted Emma to see her like that. Besides, I was already there and Dex was sleeping. I didn’t want Emma to catch whatever Dex has.”
“Did you ask her? Did you even tell her she came by?”
Dex stepped through the doorway. “No. She didn’t. I had no idea.”
Grace spun around and smiled. “Dex, you look so much better. Don’t tell me you’re going to work today.” She dropped the bag of groceries onto the counter and moved toward her. “Your fever hasn’t come back, has it?” She tried to touch her forehead, and Dex batted her hand away.
“Why didn’t you tell me Emma was there?”
“I told you. Your fever was high. You just don’t remember. I was going to remind you today. It just slipped my mind.”
Dex reached into her pocket, took out the note, and handed it to Grace. “Did she make the soup?”
Grace closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath. “Yes.”
“Yet you told me you’d made it.”
“No, I didn’t. You assumed.”
“Well, that makes a huge difference. I can’t trust you at all, can I?”
“Of course you can. I just left a few details out about yesterday. I didn’t lie to you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Why wouldn’t you believe me?”
“Over the past two months, you’ve done everything in your power to come between me and Emma.”
“That’s not fair, Dex. If Emma had really wanted to stay last night, she would have.”
“Seriously?” She glanced at Brent, whose face was blank. “Even Brent thinks it’s weird that you didn’t tell me.” She turned and went out the door.
“Dex, wait!” Grace raced out after her. “I just—”