You could be talking about the old guy next door,Ronni typed.How would I know?
They went back and forth a few more times before signing off for the night. That’s when Jenna finally picked up her book and opened it, but her focus wasn’t there. Between the wonderful scent of fall in the air—crushed leaves, fresh grass, wet earth—and the conversation she’d just had with her friends, focusing on the book in her lap seemed harder than it should be. She put the bookmark back in it, set it on the table next to her empty plate, and pulled the blanket up around her. The air had a crisp evening chill to it, but the blanket kept her toasty as she put her feet up on the railing and exhaled a slow breath. Arnold was curled up in his dog bed, but his head was up and his nose twitched as he sniffed the world from his little zone of comfort. She reached down and rubbed his ears as they watched the world go by.
She spent a little time pretending that she didn’t feel like reading—side note: she always felt like reading—because of how much she loved fall and how busy the shop had been and how she wanted to spend time with Arnold, but none of that was it, and deep down, she knew it. No, the reason she couldn’t concentrate was about twenty feet to her left, living in the other side of the duplex.
She was having dinner with Sawyer Hall tomorrow night. Sawyer Hall and her mother. And while she wasn’t quite sure why—and also had zero desire to try and figure that out—she was nervous. She was also excited, and she really wasn’t sure what to do with that part of it.
Like, what the actual fuck was happening?
Chapter Seven
“I really, really can’t believe she put me in this position.” It was about the fifth time Sawyer had said the line out loud to her empty house, but this time, it was punctuated by the front door opening and her mom walking in.
“I’m here,” she called out, her arms full of two bags from the store. “I was going to bring dinner with me but thought maybe we’d just DoorDash instead. Yeah?”
Sawyer met her and took one of the bags. “If you didn’t bring dinner, what’s all this?”
“Just some stuff I grabbed for you at the store today.” She followed Sawyer to the kitchen and set the second bag on the counter, then shrugged out of her coat. “Just a few things.” As she left to hang up her coat, Sawyer unloaded the bags. Apples, toilet paper, cheese, bread, eggs, laundry detergent.
“Mom, I’m almost forty,” she said when her mother returned to the kitchen. “You don’t have to bring me groceries like I’m a starving college kid anymore.” She kissed her cheek. “But thank you. This was very sweet of you.”
It was five forty-five and her mother mentioned they should probably get dinner ordered if they wanted it to arrive by the time Jenna did. Sawyer opened a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and poured two glasses as her mother placed an order for Chinese on her phone.
“I ordered a bunch of different dishes and figure we can all eat from each of them,” she said as she took the glass Sawyer offered. They sat in the living room on opposite ends of the couch, curling their legsup underneath their butts like mirror images of one another. “How was your day?”
“Not bad. The project I’m working on isn’t exactly exciting, so it was a pretty uneventful day.” Sawyer sipped her wine, the tang of the first taste hitting the side of her tongue like it always did.
“That’s why you have the blog, right?” Her mother glanced at the stack of books on the end table next to Sawyer. “Are those all books you need to review?”
Sawyer turned and took the top one off the pile, a thriller by a debut author. “Yup. I’ve heard good things about this one.”
“Well, you know the rule.”
“I do. If it’s good and not too scary or violent, you get it next.” As she set the book back down, aknock-knockat the door.
“Got it,” her mom said, jumping up like an excited kid welcoming her first guest to her birthday party. “Jenna! Hi!”
Sawyer pushed to her feet and watched the scene unfold. Jenna was dressed comfortably in soft-looking jeans and a cream-colored sweater, her hair pulled back in a casual ponytail. As she kicked off her shoes, she handed a bottle of wine to Sawyer’s mom, then looked down at her feet and held up a finger. “You be good.”
Arnold came strolling in as if he was actively containing himself, his tail wagging hard enough to create a slight breeze. He went right over to Sawyer, and she squatted down to give him some love. “Well, hello there, sir,” she said, rubbing both sides of his face. “How are you today? Did you work hard?” When she glanced up, both her mother and Jenna were watching. She cleared her throat, stood, and waved to Jenna. “Hi. Glad you could make it.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” she turned to look at Sawyer’s mom, “Ally.”
Sawyer’s mom laughed and said, “Come in. Come in. Food should be here any time. I hope Chinese is okay.”
“Perfect,” Jenna said as she wandered into the living room and looked around.
“Can I get you some wine?” Sawyer asked. “We have a Sauvignon Blanc opened. We can open yours if you prefer red. And I have some other options.”
“Sauvignon Blanc sounds great.”
With a nod, Sawyer headed into the kitchen, the click of nails on the hardwood telling her Arnold was coming along to keep her company.
In the kitchen, she braced herself on the counter with both hands. God, why did Jenna have to be so goddamn attractive? And she wasn’t even Sawyer’s usual type, which made it even more confusing. She looked down at Arnold, who was looking up at her with the sweetest brown eyes on the planet. “Your mommy stresses me out,” she whispered to him. “And I don’t know why.” She inhaled through her nose, blew it out slowly through her mouth in the hopes of calming her pounding heart and jangling nerves, then poured a glass of wine for her guest.
Back in the living room, her mother and Jenna were already sitting close and laughing about something. It was a strangely domestic picture, and Sawyer felt an odd sense of wonder at it. She handed Jenna the wine, then found her own and took a healthy sip.
“Jenna and I were just discussing your pile of books,” her mom said.
