“Gail’s spunky, a little bit of a hippie. She has pink hair and a fourteen-year-old grandson who teaches her all the newest slang. She puts it to good use, too, as if it’s her word of the day.”
Evie giggles.
I stop us, waiting for a car to pass us in the throughway, glancing down to watch her read the messages as her shoulders bounce.
“The way Joyce wrangles everyone is so funny. Do they live together like the Golden Girls?” She lifts her eyes to mine again as she asks.
“Joyce is the most rational, but I think it’s because she’s a retired clinical psychologist. She actually helped me a lot when shit went south for me.”
Her head cocks up, her pretty face bathed in concern.
“How bad were you?”
Watering down the truth has never felt like an option with her. Not the way it does with everyone else. So I answer truthfully.
“Bad. But I’m pretty sure it’s the same answer any of the four of us could give.”
“Specify.”
“I was stuck in a cycle of fear and anxiety. Just waiting to die. Wondering if I was living aFinal Destinationlife or if some night I’d be walking to my car and bam, somebody would gut me. I couldn’t sleep or eat. Let alone cook. So yeah, like I said ... bad.”
She grabs my shirt, right above my jeans, stopping me from stepping into someone’s side mirror. I maneuver around it, coming to a stop between two identical black SUVs as I turn and face her.
“I didn’t know,” she whispers, leaning forward to kiss me right in the center of my chest.
With a finger under her chin, I lift her face, holding her eyes for a moment before I cradle her face and kiss her, letting my words play out on her lips.
“It wasn’t for you to know.”
She pinches my chin between her fingers and gives me her best impression of a goddess as she bats her lashes at me.
“It is now. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am. But I’m good now ... really good. And hey, you know, if you ever wanted to talk to Joyce, too, I could make an introduction. I went first, so you can trust her.”
Evie smiles and nods in that way she does when she’s trying not to give away what she’s thinking.
“Yeah, that could be cool.”
I don’t think I’ll ever get over earning her trust. It’s the greatest privilege of my life.
She looks down for the phone and takes it from me, hooking her arm through mine, and we continue on our way to the car.
“Mimi?”
I wait to answer because that car alarm is getting louder and louder ... and I know it’s not my car, but what if it’s next to my baby and scratched it?
She nudges me for an answer, so I snap back and pay attention.
“Aww, Mimi—she’s like a little ray of sunshine that likes to read very smutty books about werewolves and to send me recipes she finds online to help my career. Sometimes they’re even by me.”
She’s chuckling as we single file it through a few more cars, that alarm now blaring.Man, it’s way too close to where I’m parked.
Evie’s voice is raised as she jokes, “Welcome to Hollywood, the live-action version ofGrand Theft Auto.”
I crane my neck, trying to see past a white SUV that I’m parked behind, finally breathing easy because I can see the Volvo next to it is the culprit for my worry. Its headlights are blinking on and off, all the sound coming from it.
My head falls back, and my shoulders sag as I smile back at Evie. “Not gonna lie. I was a little worried about my girl.”
