“You’re at the beach now?” There’s a tinge of excitement in her voice that I haven’t heard in ages, and it makes me feel even more like slime. “Which beach? I’d consider a beach even if the people were too old or young if you were there.”
“I’m not there yet.”
If Zen’s glare gets any hotter, they’ll melt the windows.
I clear my throat. “Just finishing up a few things, and then I’ll be on my way.”
“Which beach?” Mimi repeats.
“Haven’t decided yet.”
“When will you decide?”
“Soon.”
It’s about forty-ish degrees outside.
Ever since I landed myself in that ambulance right after Vince told me he’d made us a lot of money by selling my research, my fingers and toes have gone numb at any temperature under sixty degrees.
But right now, I’m sweating.
I’m sweating, and I can’t shed layers fast enough.
The only other time I’ve been this warm in a cold place was when Sabrina was straddling me at the gazebo the other night.
“Well, you let me know when you decide,” Mimi says. “And then you let me know if you have room for an old lady to tag along.”
“You know I always do.”
“Is Zen with you?”
“Would they be anywhere else?”
“Good. I like knowing you have each other.”
“Want to say hi?”
“Oh, no, I spoke with them earlier today. But do give them another hug from me.”
I make direct eye contact with my nibling.
They are displeased.
They areverydispleased.
Jaw working. Mulish glare. Hands curling into fists and then releasing.
They’ve added two rings to their right hand since we got here. One turquoise, one a fidget ring.
There’s little doubt who’s to blame for the necessity of a fidget ring.
That would be me.
And this unhappy Zen?
This unhappy Zen willnotbe satisfied by me asking a woman out on a date.
Is this because I’m lying to Mimi?
