I smirk. “Well, of course!” See. My bestie gets it.
We’re both giggling when we pull onto the main road. Then, because I am who I am, my insecurities get the better of me and I start drumming my fingers on my thigh and fidgeting with the bangles on my wrist.
Stella slices her gaze at me. “Spit it out.”
The air rushes out of my lungs. “Is it weird?” The question tumbles out before I can overthink it. “Me and your brother seeing each other, I mean?”
There’s a beat of silence, and I hold my breath.
Stella purses her lips, her head tipping side to side. “I mean, a little bit,” she admits, her nose scrunching the way it does when she’s being completely honest and not sure how it’ll be received. “But I love you both and want you both to be happy.”
The knot in my chest loosens, and I let out the breath I was holding. “I really am happy, Stells.”
She reaches over and squeezes my hand on the console. “I know you are, babe. I can see it all over your face.” She pauses, then adds, “Just remember our deal. No details.”
“No details,” I agree, grinning.
The rest of the drive is easy and by the time Stella pulls up to the curb in front of my building, I feel more at ease.
“Thanks for the ride, babe.” I unclip my seatbelt and lean across the console to wrap my arms around her.
She hugs me back, squeezing tight. “Always.”
As I’m climbing out of the car, one foot on the pavement, Stella calls after me, “Hey! I’ll stop by before I go to work.”
I duck my head back through the open door and beam. “You’re the best, you know that?”
She flips her silvery blonde braid over her shoulder dramatically. “I know.”
I’m going to need all the help I can get cleaning up that apartment, and Stella knows it.
Closing the door, I step back onto the sidewalk and wave as she pulls away from the curb. I watch until her little car disappears around the corner.
I’m thankful for good friends like Stella. That girl has been my rock since the ninth grade, and I honestly don’t know where I’d be without her.
Turning toward the entrance, a familiar sight makes me smile. Mr. McAbee is parked in his folding chair beside the front door, sweet tea sweating on the sidewalk next to him, newspaper open across his lap. I swear the man never deviates from his daily routine.
“What’s shakin’, bacon?” I plant my hands on my hips and give him my biggest grin.
He looks up from his paper and returns it with a grin of his own, spreading his arms wide. “Same ol’, same ol’, baby girl.”
I tilt my head, studying him. “You know what you need, Mr. McAbee? A lady in your life.”
He throws his head back and laughs—a deep, rich belly laugh that makes me laugh too. “Oh, I got a few, darlin’.”
My jaw drops, and I slap my hands back on my hips. “What?” I gasp, scandalized. “Mr. McAbee!”
His eyes twinkle with mischief. “My granddaughters, darlin’. My granddaughters.”
“Ohhh.” My cheeks flush as I let out a relieved giggle. “Well, I’m glad to hear that,” I say, pulling open the entrance door.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “I had the love of my life. Nobody could ever replace that.”
“She must have been amazing.” I squeeze the top of his shoulder.
“She was.” His eyes shine with love. We could all be so lucky to have a love like that.
“Have a good one, Mr. McAbee.”
