“Yes – which is creeping me the ‘efff’ out.”
“Oh my gosh – you said ‘eff’. So it was bad? Was it bad, Nettie? You never go there, Miss-Pollyanna-Sunshine, and for you to imply there is a cuss word means he was a troll, a gorgon,a complete cretin – we’re talking Kaiju-sized ‘effer’… minus the ‘H’ or the ‘F’ depending on how you look at it.”
“A Feffer? Oh and FYI - your Kaiju that you are related to somehow actually smiled at me.”
“Hang on… hannng on,” Gina said warily, like she was trying to process the same things that Nettie’s own brain was stuck on. “Did you say smile? As in ‘teeth’ were showing because that wasn’t a smile – that was a physical warning like some bear showing you his canines before he eats you.”
“No. He curled his… ah… um…”
“Huh?”
“His lip curled, smirked, climbed… okay, Gina – his lip curled upward on one side into a smile, and it wasn’t a spasm or a stroke because I already thought of that. There was no twitching, no drooping. Your brother gave me a legit hot-boy-smirk…”
Gina gasped.
Nettie made a garbled noise in reply.
It was like they were speaking their own brand of communication that said so much in those simple moments of connection. In fact, they knew each other so well that she could practically picture Gina sitting there, clutching her phone, biting her lip, and puffing out her breath repeatedly like she was about to explode.
“Spill it – do you know why he’s being creepy weird?”
“I’m still processing that Tate was nice to another human being.”
“You’re processing? I’m afraid I’ve huffed something landing me into some walking nightmare – mind you, I am sitting in my car, in Texas, in a parking lot, in the middle of October…”
“Is it running?”
“No.”
“Start the car! Start the car!” Gina nearly yelped in her ear. “You’ll die, cook your brain, or fry your eggies in your ovaries… and I need you! You’re my bestie.”
“I thought Shannon was your bestie?”
“Stitch, puh-lease – we both know it’s you…”
“I don’t sew…”
“Yet,” Gina corrected. “We both know you are a year away from being either a Sourdough-woman or a quilter… maybe both. You have ‘Crazy-Cat-Lady-era’ on the horizon and we both know it.”
“Twelve meows and a Truth,” Nettie sighed, letting her shoulders slump as she started the car, feeling the blast of heat blister her cheeks as the fan hit her full blast in the face with a scalding breeze before starting to cool a smidgeon.
Fall in Texas – ‘nuff said.
“So should I be freaked out that your brother is ill, dying, or has had a mental breakdown? Brace yourself – Tate was looking at yarn… at my craft store.”
Gina made the noise again.
Nettie gasped in horror as it suddenly clicked in her head.
“You did this?” Nettie whispered in disbelief. “You sicced your brother on me? I’m not even thirty yet, and we agreed.”
“I told him to be nice if you ever saw him again,” Gina confessed, and Nettie rolled her eyes. “He’s capable – more than capable – and I’m telling you that he has his moments of being sweet, but it’s buried so deep in that angry mess of a person that it’s hard to see. I mean, I get the family-version of him and I’ve seen him laugh, but it’s so rare… and… and…”
“And you sicced him on me because you want me as a sister-in-law,” Nettie said flatly, realizing exactly what her friend had done. “Gina, I’ve already told you that while I think your brother is cute – we aren’t compatible in the slightest. I run from drama and anxiety, and hecreatesit – in waves!” she stressed, wavingher hands frantically and grateful for Bluetooth so she could let her emotions out with gestures. “I cannot handle Tate – which is why I’ve always avoided him. You cannot sic your brother on me because I am mentally ill-equipped for dealing with him… and all of his angry weirdness. He’s too much. He’s…Tate, Gina. ”
“If I can handle him, you can.”
“No – seriously. I cannot.”
