lana _ pulls a page from the tall pile of papers on the kitchen table and reads to herself as she uses her red pen to mark the page. Without any alcohol to artificially inflate my self-esteem, I’m left with a racing heart and the urge to escape before Lana notices me.
Not relying on vodka to numb your problems is a good thing.
Yes, except that reducing my consumption always seems like a good idea until I face some kind of adversity.
Just go ahead and get this over with.
I stick my thumbs in the front pockets. “You have a second?” She looks at me. “I’m a little busy here grading papers.” “On a Friday night? Fascinating things.
She shoots me a look. “Unless you’re here to admit defeat over the house, don’t bother.
“I prefer the term commitment .”
“I’m sure that’s what all losers say to make themselves feel better.” The shine in her eyes fucks me. Or to be more specific, my cock.
You’re screwed in the head.
Of course, it’s me. At this point in my life, I’ve had more therapists than friends, and none of them stuck around for long because of my problems.
I pull out a chair in front of her and take a seat. “I’m going to make you an offer.”
“Oh, this should be good.” He puts his pen aside before giving me his full attention.
“I want you to hear me completely before you say no or threaten legal action.”
She motions for me to continue.
It’s time to bring out the big guns. “Let me sell the house for two and a half million dollars and you keep all the profits.”
His face pales. “ All profits?”
“Down to the last cent. I’ll even cover all the remodeling costs myself, which means you’ll walk away with everything at the end of closing day, regardless of how much money we pump into this place.”
She blinks twice. “But why would you do that?”
“Selling the house has never been about making money for me. I want to get this place over with as quickly as possible, so if that means losing a few million along the way, so be it.”
His withering look does not bode well for me. “Oh yeah. I’m sure it’s a big sacrifice for a billionaire like you.”
My clenched fists press against my thighs. “I’m trying to help us both while giving you a good deal.”
“I don’t need your help,” she snaps.
“No, but it would be nice to send Cami to that fancy school she got into with the funds.”
His eyes narrow. “Now you’re just playing dirty.” wink “My favorite type of strategy. Is working?”
“Marginally, although your arrogant smile doesn’t convince me at the moment.”
I wipe the smile off my face. “Work with me.” I’m not above begging on my knees for him to see reason. “This kind of money can change anyone’s life.”
“How would you know? You made your first billion the moment you took your first breath.”
“I am not completely separated from reality. “I understand the value of money.”
“Knowing how to spend it is not the same as valuing it.”
My teeth grind together. “Valuing your money means knowing where
spend it, not how.” “Look at you being all wise.”
I’m more than a pretty face, Lana. “I have a brain too.” “Who lied to you and called you pretty?” She bats her eyelashes.
“You did it…while I was between your legs with my tongue deep inside your needy pussy.”
Take that, little witch.
She chokes on her breath. “God.”
“Please, you don’t need to call me God outside the bedroom. It gives me a complex.
She slides the swear jar off the top of the fridge and slams it shut. on the table in front of me. “Pay.”
I take a hundred dollars and drop it in the jar. “Worth every penny.” “Cami’s college fund appreciates the donation.”
I hold onto his wrist and the heat of his skin merges with mine. “You wouldn’t need a swear jar anymore if you agreed to sell the house.”
She looks into the distance.
I can practically taste victory, so I pull out my wild card. “You could open that bakery you’ve always dreamed of.”
He lets out a shaky breath as he looks away, and I think for the first time since I arrived at Lake Wisteria, I’m finally winning.
Just because you’re using his dreams against him.
Is that what I’m doing? Or am I simply reminding you of what you must have forgotten over the years?
She shakes her head, her vision becoming clearer as she comes back to reality. “No. I’d rather play it safe and save the money for a house and whatever Cami might need over the years.”
“Play it safe? What happened to the girl who would act first and think later?”
“I grew up, Cal.” She grabs the swear jar and places it back on top of the fridge.
“So what? Growing up doesn’t mean giving up all your dreams.”
“I did not give up. “I just realized that I would rather make someone else’s dreams come true much more than my own.”
“And what does that mean?”
She throws her stack of papers into her arms and retrieves her red pen. “I don’t expect someone like you to understand.”
My heart threatens to wither. “Someone like me?” “Someone who always chooses himself.”
As if his words didn’t cause enough damage, the look on his face deals a fatal blow.
She takes a deep breath. I accept your offer with one condition. “Name it.”
“I want to have the final say on who buys the house.”
I scoff “Why? Then you can make it impossible for anyone to buy it?”
He can’t even look me in the eyes, which only increases the emptiness in my chest.
“Because I want to make sure that whoever the next owner is loves my house as much as I do.”
I instantly feel like an idiot for thinking the worst about her. “Lana—” Her nostrils flare. “Yes or no, Callahan?”
And now we return to Callahan. Charming.
I nod. “You have the final say, as long as you’re not vetoing potential buyers for no good reason.”
I hope I don’t end up regretting my choice.
***
Wool
I’m starting to wonder if you have a shopping addiction. He sends me a photo of a box waiting on the porch. I jump off the couch, scaring Merlin, who is wriggling under the TV stand.
Be there in a few.
My excitement grows with every step I take through the property towards the main house.
Lana is standing on the porch, waving at the red-haired mailman as he walks away.
I go up the steps. “Do you know him?” “Ernie? Yes. He is Isabelle’s son.
My eyebrows rise. “I’m surprised my packages arrived undamaged.”
“Me too. He’s not very happy with you given the thirty packages delivered here in the last few days alone.
“This is the best one yet.” I lift the heavy box in my arms. She looks at the cardboard box. “What is it?”
A Kees van der Westen Speedster. His eyebrows knit together.
“It’s an espresso machine,” I clarify. Caffeine, Adderall, and me don’t usually mix well. But now that I’m working late, long after my medication has worn off, I need a little energy in the afternoons.
She snorts. “It sounds like the name of a car.”
“And it costs almost the same as a cheap one too.” I give the box an affectionate pat.
His eyes open. “How much you paid for that?”
“I don’t remember. Twenty thousand, more or less with taxes? Because? Want one?”
The color drains from his face. “You spent twenty thousand dollars on a
espresso machine ? “I have needs, Lana.”
“Me too, but that’s worth more than half of my annual salary!” I rock in my sneakers. “I know it sounds excessive…” “That’s because it is .”
“Forgive me for enjoying the good things in life.”
“It’s your money, so do what you want with it. “It surprises me that someone spends so much money on coffee.” So let’s hope I never find out how much I spent on the new mattress, bedding, and sofa from the guest house.
“Please. This is nothing. Wait until you see the state-of-the-art grill I bought.”
She blinks. “Did you buy a grill knowing you’ll only be here temporarily?”
“Of course. I thought maybe I could tempt you to make some of your mom’s roast beef one of these days.”
His mouth opens.
“It’s a really fancy grill with all the bells and whistles and things that most chefs drool over. I swear you will love it.
She opens her mouth, only to slam it shut.
I rub the back of my neck. “I can cook for you too, although I can’t promise it’ll be half as good.”
“Would you cook for me?” “You and Cami,” I correct.
Something flickers in his eyes before disappearing.
“You—We…” He rubs his temple in small circles. “You know what? I’m going to delete this whole conversation from my brain.”
“What did I say?” He reached for her hand, only to have her pull away before she had a chance.
“Nothing. I have to go get Cami ready for her dance class.” Lana disappears back into the house, leaving me wondering what I said wrong this time.
Story of your life.
***
I’m bored.
I bounce the tennis ball against the ceiling while I wait for Iris to respond to my message. With the contractor and his team already fixing the exterior of the house, including replacing the roof, vinyl siding, and old windows, I have nothing else to occupy my time.
Lake Wisteria doesn’t have many entertainment options. Unless I want to drive thirty minutes to see a movie, I’m forced to go bowling alone, hang out at the park across the lake, or spend the rest of the day shopping online.
My phone vibrates against the couch.
Iris
You mean one besides looking at myself in the mirror?
Have you tried picking up a new hobby?
Iris
Let’s keep it a mystery.
I can’t tell if you’re serious or not.
Iris
Hell no.
What about knitting?
Iris
…
Crocheted?
Iris
Reading a book?
Any recommendation?
Hmm. I haven’t read much since I was a kid, but it seems like a better option than trying to create something with a ball of yarn.
Iris
Let’s ask Zahra.
Iris continues with a message in the group chat I share with the two of them.
Iris
Do you have any book recommendations for Cal?
I throw my ball against the ceiling while waiting for Zahra to respond.
Zahra
The opposite of what you read.
What do you like?
Zahra
No romance. Understood.
My phone starts pinging from your recommendation texts. I open my notes app and write down his suggestions before leaving the guesthouse.
By the time I park outside the One More Chapter bookstore, Zahra sends me an encouraging message about how happy she is for me to start reading. The little shop hasn’t changed a bit since Lana and I used to visit it. Tall wooden shelves line the walls, packed to the brim with books waiting to be purchased.
“Hello. Can I help you with something?” Meg, the older woman who has owned the store since my mother used to take my brothers and me here, appears behind me.
“I’m looking for a book”. I turn to look at her.
The smile on his face fades. typical _ “Wow. Which one?”
I pull out my phone and recite the three Zahra recommended. Meg quickly finds the books for me and marks my purchase.
“There you go”. He hands me the bag full of books.
The bell above the door rings. I look over my shoulder to find Violet pacing inside with Delilah.
Fucking small towns.
I haven’t seen them in six years. While Violet’s hair color has returned to her natural blonde color, Delilah still looks the same, although the ring on her left hand and the cane she leans on are new to me.
Violet’s eyes connect with mine first. “What the hell are you
doing here?”
“It is not obvious?” I lift my bag.
His nose wrinkles. “Since when do you read?”
“It took me a few decades, but I finally got the hang of it.”
“Do you think this is all some kind of joke?” Violet charges towards me.
Meg disappears behind a stack of books, leaving me with the red-faced woman who used to be one of my friends.
“I’m not here to cause trouble.” I keep my voice neutral, repeating the mantra that seems to follow me everywhere.
“That’s what Alana says, but I have a hard time believing that.” Violet stabs me in the chest with her finger.
Delilah frowns as she tugs on her friend’s arm. Come on, Violet. Just leave him alone.”
She looks at her friend. “One second.” Her head slowly turns towards me like something out of a horror movie. “If you’re here to screw Alana again…”
I stop her, “I’m not.”
“You’re still drinking,” he says. “Is that considered a crime?”
“It’s pathetic,” he hisses. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before, however, having someone who was once a friend throw the words at me is deeper than I’d like to admit.
You are pathetic .
A heavy weight presses against my chest, making breathing an impossible task.
His upper lip pulls back. “You’re no better than her sister, making all these promises and never keeping them.”
My hand holding the bag clenches until my nails bite. in my skin. “I know. Why do you think I left in the first place?”
His eyes pop out.
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to leave now.” My feet feel like someone has slapped two anvils on them, making each step exponentially more difficult than the last.
I bypass my car and head straight to Last Call at the end of Main Street. It’s a locals’ place, so my entrance elicits whispers and glares from everyone gathered around the bar.
I linger on the unoccupied stool at the end of the counter, right in front of some people I recognize from around town.
The dark-haired bartender approaches me with a frown. I remember it from one of Lana’s birthday parties, although her face has filled out and her muscles have muscles.
Enrique shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Tonic vodka, please. I ignore him as he slaps a fifty dollar bill on the counter.
His frown only deepens. “No.” “Oh really?”
He crosses his bulging arms against his chest. Isabelle warned us about you. For the love of God. Did they have a town hall meeting about me? “What did she say?”
The veins in his arms pop. “We are not allowed to serve you.”
“Of course you’re not. Alright. “I’ll take my money somewhere else.” I take the bill and put it in my pocket. I’m sure a city near me will be more than happy to take my money and help me avoid an exchange like this again.
“Go to hell!” someone shouts from the other side of the bar. Little do they know, I’m already there.
