“Mom and I are glad you’re coming too,” I say, pulling away from her house.
“I love your mom…your family. I envy you them.”
“Have things been rough with yours lately?”
“No rougher than usual. My mother has made all these commitments on my behalf…luncheons and gala dinners. Last night I nearly fell asleep on my plate of bland chicken.”
“Say no, Lex.”
“Let’s talk about something else, please.” She leans back against the headrest, squeezing the bridge of her nose. “This is supposed to be a day of R and R, and thinking about my family is the opposite of that. Tell me about your weekend with Stiles. I want to hear all about it.”
“That’s a short story. I ended things.”
Lexie’s head comes forward, and her face swerves to me. “You’re done with him already?”
“No, not even close.”
“Then what?”
“Brace yourself,” I say glibly. “I fell for him.”
“You’re in love with Stiles?” She can’t hide her shock.
“Yes. But he’s not even in the same vicinity.”
“Oh, Jord. I’m so sorry.”
“Me too. I told him how I felt, and he said he couldn’t love me back.”
“Why the heck not? What’s wrong with him?” she says, taking umbrage.
“He didn’t tell me the full story, but there’s a woman from his past that he’s still tied to.”
“There’s another woman.” Her anger increases, and I understand where she’s coming from. Lexie had seen me at my worst after Theodore—beating myself up, feeling stupid and used.
“It’s not the same, Lex. Stiles didn’t lie or cheat on me. He made it clear from the start that he didn’t want a relationship. I went in with my eyes wide open, thinking I wanted the same thing—sex, no strings attached. I’m the one who broke the rules, so I can’t be mad at him. But neither can I continue on when I want more than he’s willing or able to give.”
“You did the right thing, Jord. It’s his loss,” she concludes in the way of a true bestie.
“Yep.” I smile weakly. “I’ll get over it.” Just not today.
Repeating the story again to my mother takes the last bit of strength out of me. Ready to be pampered, St. Alms is the ideal place for it. The three of us arrive at the entrance, which reminds me of a vacation resort on an exotic isle.
Lush plants are suspended from gilded pots, vines decorate the archway, and the air is redolent with jasmine. The area where we check in to get our robes and slippers features a decorative fountain with soothing sounds of running water, and a hidden speaker offers stringed instrumental music. It’s impossible not to relax here.
At the lockers in the changing room, Mom squeezes my hand. “You okay, baby girl?”
“I’m fine, Ma,” I reassure her. “My heart’s just a little banged up.”
“It’s a good, strong heart.”
We change and hit the therapeutic waters first, going from warm to warmer to hot, followed by a cold plunge that is glacial but invigorating. Bundled back in our thick, comfy robes, we’re escorted to our first treatments. Mom and Lexie booked facials, and I selected the exfoliate and body polish.
After an amazing hour, we meet in the dining room for afternoon tea, which consists of a three-tiered array of finger sandwiches, mini quiches, scones and jams, clotted cream, sliced fruit, and homemade cookies. It looks delicious, and I’m starving.
I bite into an egg sandwich, and my brain is on the threshold of Zen when Lexie, sitting beside me, says, “Have there been any more incidents at your house or work since the flowers?”
I kick her ankle.
