Emmy texted me an apology to delay our weekend plans after she got off work, saying that her friends had talked her into a shopping trip and dinner together. Abby, Stella, and Jade were going to drop her off at my place afterward.
I’d planned that, obviously.
She was going to be shocked. The only clue I’d even given her was that I smelled like tape the day before. Because of her years in kindergarten, she thought tape was a perfectly normal thing for a grown adult to smell strongly of.
She also thought having more than two-hundred colored gel pens was normal, so teaching had screwed with her idea of normalcy. Her insane level of optimism, obsession with bright colors, and trust fund had probably contributed to that.
Maybe my feelings on the subject were biased, but I loved it.
We finished moving the furniture back in around six, and after I sent everyone away with IOUs, I pulled the cake out of my freezer and checked my phone.
Emmy
Finally heading back! Be there in an hour!
She’d sent the message…
One hour ago.
Fuck.
Fuck.
My heart was fucking pounding again.
Was the air conditioning working?
I wiped my palms on the sweats I was wearing, which now had streaks of dried paint on them in various shades of pink. They were going to be Emmy’s new favorite pair of my pants.
Everything could be about to change for me. Forus.
Of course, there was a real chance she would see the pink house, and the folder, and still decide she wanted more time.
I’d get it.
I’d wait as long as she wanted.
Opening the fridge, I grabbed the hideous cake I’d worked so hard on, then went out to the porch. The cake—in the dome I’d borrowed from Emmy’s house—went on the side table next to the lemon-yellow couch on the porch. The folder was on top of the dome. The couch’s color was a nod to her place near the university.
I took a seat, leaning back casually as I forced myself to continue breathing normally.
I was going to have another fucking panic attack if?—
The crunch of dirt on tires had my gaze snapping up to Stella’s truck.
Emmy was in the middle seat, between Zoe and Stella, her head turned away from the house as she chatted with them.
They parked in front of my place, and Stella poked her on the arm when she didn’t turn toward me right away.
Emmy finally looked at me.
Her lips parted. Then opened wider as she took in the house.
Fuck.
She was going to hate it.
She was going to tell me I’d done something wrong.
