Summer hands her a grocery sack, and with the look of gratitude Julia returns, I can tell these two have been close for a long time. My appreciation for Julia only increases when I remember Summer’s tale of her shitty ex-husband. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since she opened up to me the other night, and I’m glad to know Summer’s had support through her divorce.
“Don’t apologize. He’s heard worse,” Julia says.
“My dad says ‘fuck’ sometimes.”
“Henry!” Julia gasps.
Summer and I both fight to hide our smiles as he pulls his attention away from the TV to his mom.
“You said it’s good to tell the truth.”
“I didn’t mean…” She trails off, shaking her head.
“You ready?” I ask Summer.
“You haven’t told me where we’re going.”
I’m sure she found it strange when I texted her on a weekend inviting her to go somewhere with me that didn’t involve Quinn, but I wasn’t sure how else to swing this. I didn’t know if she’d even say yes. She tends to flee when it’s just the two of us.
“You’ll see.”
“Have fun, you two,” Julia says as we make our way to the front door.
“It was nice to meet you. Bye, Henry.”
He’s lasered in on the screen again, and I follow his gaze at theworstpossible time—right as the wasp buries its bottom in the guy’s hand. I’d say the kid had weird taste if my own didn’t love bugs so much.
“Henry, say bye,” Julia prompts.
He waves his hand over his head without turning around. Julia rolls her eyes before offering her own wave and closing the door.
Everything heightens the moment Summer and I are alone. The dark, the quiet, her proximity. It’s been a long time since I picked up a girl—woman—from her front door. We’re not exactly young enough to be “hanging out” anymore, and I didn’t make my intentions for this evening very clear. I’m concerned I should have offered more details. Wondering if she typically brings that larger-than-a-purse bag slung over her shoulder to something that’s not a date.
“You look prepared.”
She holds out the bag to me. “They’re your clothes I borrowed. Julia washed them.”
“Oh.”
I haven’t stopped thinking about how she stripped in my room. That her bare skin touched my shirt. The same one she sure as hell wasn’t wearing a bra underneath.
She’s smirking when I take the bag from her outstretched hand, and if it wasn’t for the vibrating phone in my pocket, I’d be fumbling for more to say than a simplethanks.
The welcome distraction is a text message from Will.
WILL: Phillip is news to me. Kind of like the rest of Delilah’s life. Thanks for checking on her.
I send a laughing face emoji back.
“Coming?” she asks, opening her own door and climbing in my front seat.
It’s my turn to leave this woman at a loss for words.
“What are we doing here?”
We’re parked down the street. Summer’s back is glued to her seat, her eyes trained out the window at a modest house on a sprawling property. I’ll admit, it’s impressive for a principal’s salary, even one who works at a private school. The guy clearly knows how to invest his money.
A quick Google search told me where he lived.
