“Yeah, which is great. I love nights like tonight. The full house, the rush of the orders, when the team just clicks.” Anna paused what she was doing to smile at Brooke through the screen.“Sorry, I really love what I do.” She blushed again.
Brooke shook her head.“No, it’s beautiful, really.” God, that was honest.“I just mean, to be so passionate about what you do. It’s…” Brooke hesitated, there wasn’t really a better word that she could think of.“It is. It’s beautiful.”
“Thanks, Honey.” They smiled shyly at each other for a second, letting the compliment hover between them before Anna licked her lips.“Okay. I need what episode we’re on and the exact minute marker.”
Oh, right. The show. They were FaceTiming for a reason. Brooke looked at her screen and relayed the information to Anna. Season four, episode two, sixteen minutes and three seconds in. Anna got all queued up.
“On three?” Anna asked.
“Wait, on three? Or like, one, two, three, go?”
“One, two, three, go for sure. Anyone who says otherwise is really going on two,” Anna said.
Brooke let out a laugh.“I couldn’t agree more.” They grinned at each other through their phones. Anna shot Brooke a quick wink and focused on her own television.
“One, two, three”—They both clicked simultaneously and listened intently to see how they had done. It was almost perfect, so close that it wasn’t annoying.
“Nice. Good work, Darling.” Brooke said, genuinely meaning it.
Anna bit her bottom lip, but grinned at the camera.“Thanks.”
Brooke finally relaxed back onto her couch, cuddling under her couch blankets and smiling as she saw Anna do the same. She made it a few episodes, half watching the show and half watching Anna, smiling wider every time the show made them both laugh, before she slowly started to doze off.
“Psst, Honey?” Anna whispered.
“Hmmm?” Brooke mumbled, not quite getting her eyes to open all the way.
“You’re falling asleep.” Anna’s voice was so soft and so warm. It was almost like she was there.
“No, I’m not,” Brooke said, though they both knew that was decidedly not true.
Anna let out a soft chuckle.“Oh, okay then,” she teased.“We can keep watching then.” There was a very brief pause, probably left for Brooke to have a chance to fill the silence, but Brooke was already definitely asleep. Anna took a screenshot of their faces on the screen, her smiling so wide it would definitely leave her cheeks sore and Brooke completely relaxed on her side, fast asleep.“Good night, Honey-B. Sweet dreams,” Anna whispered.
Brooke’s phone would tell her in the morning that Anna hadn’t ended the call until close to six in the morning and she would be too shy and too embarrassed to ask if that’s when Anna had finally gone to bed or if they had fallen asleep together.
Brooke’s weekend flew by in a blur. Last minute preparation for their trip to England, texting Anna non-stop, deep cleaning her apartment so that she’d come home to a clean space (and to keep herself busy), and practicing things she could say to her mother should she ever work up the courage. She also emailed her therapist and set up an appointment for Monday morning. Where she now sat, trying her best not to fidget. Her therapist’s office was about what one would expect: there was a large comfortable couch, a sleek and modern desk, and a well decorated bookcase on the wall behind the aforementioned desk.
Her therapist had reminded her of the nuns at her catholic school when she first started seeing her. The similarities had been both comforting and triggering all at once. Comforting in the sense that until four years ago, the closest thing Brooke had done to therapy was confession. For a while her therapy sessions had felt fairly similar. It was triggering in the sense that not all of the nuns at her catholic school were good people. Some of them had found her“affliction” disturbing and had made her last two years of school nearly unbearable. There was a severity in her therapist's aura that reminded her of one of the nuns in particular, one who all the girls called Sister Satan behind her back.
But Susan wasn’t a nun. And while she was rather serious, she wasn’t unkind. The longer Brooke went to see her, the more productive their sessions had become.
“Tell me more about the woman who’s going with you,” Susan asked. They had already covered all of Brooke’s feelings around Nate, her mother and father, and the thought of being back in her hometown after all these years.
Brooke swallowed, for some reason, she was most nervous about this part. Her feelings were pretty well sorted about her family. She was braced for the inevitable train wreck that was her relationship with Sybil. She was prepared to be ignored by her father. She was hopeful about her relationship with her brother and his bride-to-be. Anna, however. Brooke never felt prepared when it came to Anna. She hummed in thought.“Well, she’s rather…quite remarkable, really.”
Susan lifted an eyebrow, curious. She was just passed middle aged, and the wrinkles on her forehead had begun to be prominent from the repeated reaction.
Brooke hurried to continue before conclusions could be reached. Conclusions that were altogether probably entirely too accurate.“She’s a friend. A new friend, but an old acquaintance, and she’s lovely.”
“Lovely?” Susan asked, her voice revealing nothing.
Brooke nodded.“I mean, yeah. Anyone who would agree to help out a new friend is pretty… well, lovely, don’t you think?”
“Well, that depends. What does she get out of it?” Susan asked.
Brooke thought about it for a second.“An updated wardrobe and a trip to England. But not really like a trip. We’re not exactly sight-seeing. I mean, Nate’s wedding is going to be in an actual castle, but other than that, she won’t see much.”
“And?” Susan asked.
