After school, Tevin had dropped her car off, but that had taken all of forty-five seconds. Carter had been in a hurry as usual—her ex-husband was a gifted musician, but his time management skills were for crap—so she’d gotten little more than a “Keys are on the key hook!” shout, and waves from all three of them, as Carter zoomed off in his sweet little sports car, taking T and Frank to his place. Their shared custody meant that she had the boys every other week—Thursdays were transition days. Although odds were strong that Carter would get an out-of-town gig and drop them off early Saturday morning with an apology and a promise to pick them up again on Monday, but that was okay, because she missed her children when they weren’t around, and frankly, she never had plans. Not-writing and more not-writing. Maybe a trip to the gym or a run in the park.
Harry popped in.Yeah, but this weekend you might have plans of the sexy kind.
Stop.
He still not home?
Shayla pointedly turned her back on the window where, yes, Peter’s truck was still not in his drive.
Ooh, maybe he’s made a connection with Fiona’s aunt Susan. Maybe they’re having a drink together right now—no, maybe he’s fucking her in the law office bathroom—
“Stop!” Shit, she’d actually said that out loud. Fictional-characters’-voices-in-one’s-head was appropriately, quirkily writer-crazy. But talking back to them, out loud? Nope. That was crazy-crazy, and she was not that.
You shush me all the time. Out loud.
That was different.
No, it’s not. And your SEAL has heard you do it, and yet he still wanted you to kiss him—
“If he wanted that so much, why didn’t he just kiss me?” Damnit, she was losing it.
It was then that her phone swooshed and she lunged for it to see, yes, Peter had finally texted her.Sorry about the delay,he wrote.Problem on base, solved now. Lots of waiting around though, so I “wrote” chap two. OK if I email to have you read first?
Of course, she typed back and hitsend.
Okay, with the speed of your response, you just essentially told him you’ve been sitting around, waiting for him to text,Harry pointed out.
She had been. But only because she wanted to help him find Maddie.
Riiight. Aren’t you gonna ask him if it was good?Harry asked.Go on and ask him that. You know. His sex with Aunt Susan. Isn’t that your job as the quirky neighbor? To make sure he gets a proper romance-hero-worthy fucking? Shouldn’t you make sure they hooked up, andencourage him to do so, immediately, if they didn’t? “Life is too short,” you could tell him that. Or YOLO him. While you bring him a neighborly tuna casserole.
Whoosh!Email sent,came Peter’s texted reply, with another whoosh for histhank you,hot on its heels.
Shay’s computer was on the kitchen counter, so she opened her email and started to read.
About two weeks into our ride-to-school-based friendship, Lisa called me.
“Has Mr. Jimenez called you yet?” she asked.
“Why would Mr. Jimenez call me?” I asked. He was the drama teacher. He taught English, too, but I wasn’t in his class.
“So he hasn’t called yet,” Lisa said. “Good. When he calls? I need you to tell him that you were part of this big Shakespearean drama program, and that you played Romeo. You know, on your island.”
“But that’s not true,” I pointed out. “I mean, I’vereadsome Shakespeare, but mostly his comedies. I startedRomeo and Juliet,but…”
“That’s close enough,” she said. “I’ll help you learn the lines. We’ve got nine whole days before opening night.”
“Wait,” I said. “What? Whoa…”
She hit me with some classicStar Wars.“Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.” And then she told me that the kid who was originally cast as Romeo got suspended for drinking—along with his bestie, who just happened to be his understudy. Mr. Jimenez was going to cancel the performances, because who were they going to find to play Romeo on such short notice…?
That was when Lisa told him that not only was I an accomplished actor, but that I’d already played Romeo, so I’d just need to brush up on my lines.
Lisa was a really good actress, so of course he believed her.
I told her I wasn’t willing to lie, and she said, “It’s not lying, it’s just bending the truth. Stretching it.”
“That I’m qualified because I’ve read some Shakespeare…?”
