“You don’t understand.” Aspen throws her hand out in my direction. “There were circumstances.”
Crap.
Marissa lays down her magazine. The pages crumple against her bare legs. “Uh-huh. Is that what you tell yourself?”
“It was an emotional time.”
Marissa rolls her eyes and picks the magazine back up. “Uh-huh.” She flips another page obviously not looking at any of the content. “Finn handles you well.”
Aspen sputters, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Handles me? What about you? Ryland told me you threw a shoe at him last week.”
Simone gasps and covers her mouth. “A shoe! Marissa, we don’t treat our shoes that way. Have some respect.”
“It was one of his running shoes.” Marissa flips another magazine page.
My head volleys back and forth during the seamless exchange. Every time I decide I’ve gotten the hang of this group they have one of thesesessionsand I’m left reeling. It’s so… sisterly and unsettling.
Simone settles back in her chair and blows out a breath of relief. “Oh. Okay then.”
“Andthatshoe helped keep him in line. Those damn rules of his. He’s at thirty-six now.No wearing pants after six,”she mocks. “It was justified.”
“Clare Cunningham,” a voice rings out from the patio and I raise my head to see an employee from the spa dressed in one of their black smocks. When she sees my head pop up like a gopher, she walks in my direction. “Your appointment is next.”
“There must be a mistake. I didn’t sign up for a treatment.”
Aspen clears her throat next to me. “I booked you a body treatment.”
“You did? Which one?” I looked over the website Aspen sent earlier this week and there wasn’t a single option I’d consider affordable. Of course, under normal circumstances I couldn’t afford to sit next to the spa. “I can’t afford anything right now.” I hate making myself sound poor, but it’s better than having a huge bill later. If I can’t pony up the extra on next month’s rent, Drew will have a coronary.
“Nonsense,” Aspen says. “It’s on Finn and me.”
I don’t know what to say. Another cost may be no big deal to Aspen, but it’s an expensive gift. And Aspen will never understand how much it means to me. I open my mouth to give her a sincere thank you when Marissa beats me to it.
“Have you noticed how you and Finn now talk like one another? If you get married, you think you’ll morph into one single person.”
Aspen doesn’t comment, choosing instead to stare at her best friend with “a what the hell” expression the two of them share often. The spa employee flips her clipboard and I take it as my cue to leave rather than listen to Aspen and Marissa get into another disagreement.
She weaves us across the patio and into the back area where spa treatments are done. Pausing in the opening into what resembles your standard high school locker room, she hands me a small key with a round metal pendant hanging from it.
“You’re locker number thirty-nine. You’ll find a pair of small shorts inside and a tank top. Please get naked except for those and I’ll meet you behind door three.”
I hurry to follow her directions, still as uncomfortable about getting naked in the locker room as I was in high school. Once finished I wait outside the open solid wood door labeled number three. The room is sparsely lit and filled with the smell of lavender and sounds of a quiet chanting melody.
“Hop up on the table and we’ll get started,” she says turning up the music.
I hesitate for a second but ultimately climb up and lie back in a comfy position. She starts by rubbing a conditioner over my hair and scalp while explaining the clay treatment package Aspen signed me up for. Apparently rubbing dirt and clay over my body will relax my muscles and draw impurities from my skin. I’m not sold on the idea, but since we haven’t made it to that part yet and I’m already super relaxed I’m not concerned. Bring on the calming mud.
The first lather of warm hits my leg and causes me to tense but as she massages it in I fall more and more relaxed. Aspen really is an amazing friend. Not only because she’s paying for me to have mud smeared on my body, but because they put up with me. Drew has mentioned on more than one occasion I’m not the easiest person to befriend and he’s right. Between my general mistrust of people and my desire to spend Friday nights at home in front of the TV, I don’t have a large circle of friends.
In fact I’ve never had this many friends.
But I’ve finally come to the conclusion that’s what the RDA girls are.
Friends.
Really good friends. Who don’t care I dumped Grant or I have no money. They like me for me. It’s odd. But in a good way. Something I wouldn’t have believed possible a year ago.
With every exposed inch of me covered in reddish-brown clay, my technician covers my face with a warm washcloth and promises she’ll be back after twenty minutes of more relaxation. If Simone hadn’t talked me into that espresso this morning, I’d fall asleep right here.
