Gen’s by the sink, her eyes half-lidded, slowly scrubbing coffee stains in a trancelike state from the Adult Sippy Cup mug.She yawns.“Eloww.”
Translation:Hello.She hasn’t had her coffee yet, so she’s technically not awake.I pour mine into the Sexy Bitch mug.There are about fifty mugs to choose from.Our summer rental sports more mugs than it does dishes.
I open the fridge and scan the door.There you are, my beauties.I pop the lid off my favorite deli jar, spear a green olive with a fork, and jam it in my mouth.
Gen gags.“That’s revolting.Why are you doing this to me before I’ve had coffee?”
Innocently, I offer her some.
“Bitch,” she says without much power behind it.If ever there was a time to tease Gen, it’s in the morning, when she’s at her weakest.
I hold up my coffee.“That’s Sexy Bitch to you.”
Thirty minutes later, Gen’s eyelids are fully operational and she’s flipping through aPeoplemagazine propped on her lap in one of the lounge chairs out back.I’m in the chair next to her in a bikini top I threw on above my pajama bottoms, my sketchpad on the table beside me.I started doodling in elementary school.It’s turned into an obsession.
My eyes are closed, body angled toward the sun.I like the feel of the sun on me, but I wear SPF one thousand so my skin doesn’t crisp and fall off.I’m a pretend sunbather.
The scrape of a page turning rustles beside me.“A waitress from work invited us to dinner tonight.”
I pop open an eyelid.“One of the veterans?”
Gen pulls in her chin and shakes her head.“No, not one of them.Nessa’s our age and really nice.”
“Sounds fun, but I’ve got a Skype date with Eric.”
Finally,finally, I managed to pin down my boyfriend via text.I glance at the exchange on my phone from earlier and smile.
Cali:Thinking of our tubing trip down the American River with all this glacial water nearby.Totally your fault we tipped.Saving that beer was not worth it!
Eric:Worth it.
Cali:Miss you.Skype tonight?8 p.m.?
Eric:Sure.
Gen shivers, elbows pressed to her sides.“In that case, I’m glad I won’t be around.”
I set my phone back in my lap.Eric and I have been known to discuss sex around Gen.It could be because we have no shame, or it could be because it drives her crazy—okay, it’s both.
Somehow, though, I don’t think our conversation tonight will cover Sex-Skyping.We haven’t spoken over the phone in weeks.I’m more interested in getting reassurance that everything is okay.My instincts were right that day on the hike.Something is up with him, but I’ve been so busy with my new job, I haven’t had time to do much about it.
No point in drawing conclusions until I talk to Eric.I smile, just to irritate Gen.“Probably so.”
Mostly I’m nervous.Once I know everything is fine with Eric, I’m sure my head will clear over this thing with Jaeger.
It’s midnight,and I’ve officially been stood up.
I’ve never been stood up—and by my own boyfriend?Friggin’ hell!
As I’m digging into my second pint of butter pecan ice cream, the sound of the bolt scraping comes from the front door.Gen walks in.Well,stompsis a better description.
I kick up my fuzzy slippers onto our rental’s retro wood coffee table (it’s actually old as hell, but I’m trying to think positive), and wait for her to set down her stuff and tell me what’s up.Because something’s definitely up.Her gaze is cagey and she slammed the door closed after she entered.
She eyes my carton of ice cream and huffs out a sigh.“Out of every Ben & Jerry’s flavor in existence you pickedbutter pecan?What about cookies ’n cream, Super Fudge Chunk, or, I don’t know, vanilla?”She tosses her purse on the floor and plops next to me on the couch, staring straight ahead.
I glance at her, the discarded purse, and then the tub of ice cream resting on my belly, the spoon sticking out like a flag.“Ouch.What’s wrong with butter pecan?”
Another long exhale, this time through her nose.“Let me have a bite of your disgusting ice cream.”
