Remy studies me. “Tell me how you want this to go. Do you want us to stop coming over?”
“I like having you come over,” I say. “I am not ready for you to stay here, despite the convenience. I think weekends to myself. I will work with you, and you are welcome here. We can play it by ear.”
Chapter eighty-five
Christianna
I hand Meg the last rinsed plate to put in the dishwasher.
“Wine?” she asks.
I nod. “That sounds perfect. Inside or outside?” I grab a cloth to wipe down the table.
The guys all left after a dinner. It ended up being a rehash of everything since Coulson left this afternoon.
“Let’s curl up on the couch and maybe watch a chick flick. James said we needed a TV and mounted it in the living room while David cooked. Said he needed his sports updates.”
“James is a sports guy? Huh. Wouldn’t have pegged that,” I murmur, rinsing the cloth and setting it over the faucet to dry.
Meg hands me a glass of red and we wander toward the living room.
As we enter, we realize the couch will be ours. The loveseat was claimed by the Notes, curled together like yin and yang.
“What do you want to watch?” I ask, handing her the remote as we settle into our corners.
She flicks on the guy-sized TV. I think it’s bigger than I am.
“Mamma Mia? He left us all his streaming logins.”
“Oh, we should change first. This feels like a PJ necessity,” I tell her.
“Bring me down a set while you’re up.”
“Done,” I tell her, dashing up the stairs.
A bottle and a half of wine later, we’re dancing on the sofa with the cast, singing “Take a Chance on Me” at the top of our lungs before collapsing in a heap.
“Crap, is your knee okay?” I ask as we lie on the couch, heads together.
“Yeah, it’s better than I let on. I wanted out of Mom’s shadow, so I may have under-reported my recovery,” Meg admits.
“I can see that. How is she doing? I know I should visit. Or maybe we should have her over?”
“She’s doing okay. She’ll always have a limp from the car accident.” Meg pauses. “And you absolutely should. On a night the guys aren’t here. I’m not ready for them to know.”
“Done. Why don’t you invite her over Friday? I told the guys they weren’t allowed on weekends.”
“Make it Saturday. I have money on it Erik thinks weekends don’t start until Saturday.”
Chapter eighty-six
Christianna
Walking into the opera house, it feels like I’m the focus of more attention than usual. I quicken my pace and head straight for rehearsal.
I’m not imagining it. The whispers stop the moment I enter.
Heat crawls up my neck, sharp and uncomfortable.
