Was it the craft? The awakening that bound Rhiannon to her and made it feel like she had known her forever?
Pru stopped by the beach. The afternoon sun ready to dip into the ocean on the other side of the island made the waves look surreally green, the light reflecting in playful patterns. In the distance, at the very edge of the water, stood a familiar figure, the willowy frame wrapped in a dark gray shawl.
The waves played at her bare feet, for once free of the confines of her heels. Pru had to admit that they were ridiculously attractive. An entire horde of butterflies had taken residence in her stomach at the mere thought of those red-soled boots. Rhiannon probably had a closet full of those fascinating heels.
Pru looked down at her sensible ballet flats and curled her toes. They might not be much to look at, but they were comfy.
They were so different, Rhiannon and her. Like the Louboutins and her mall shoe store flats.
Then, as the thought materialized itself in her mind, just before Pru could even process and ramp up her already off-the-charts anxiety, Rhiannon suddenly turned and their eyes met.
And it mattered very little that Pru felt like an old shoe, that she was dressed in clothes she had from high school, that they weren’t fashionable. The heat in Rhiannon’s gaze scorched and might as well have melted those clothes right off her. She felt ridiculous. Ridiculously happy. She lifted her hand and waved. And Rhiannon smiled, full lips quirking upward for a second.
A horn blasted to Pru’s left and she barely avoided a car going way above the speed limit. Rhiannon’s face darkened and Pru just shook her head. She was fine, it was fine, everything was fine. As she turned to head back home, she could feel Rhiannon’s eyes on her till she made her way from the beach to the Market Square. She felt warm, as if she was still wearing her cardigan.
The happy sensation, however, did not last long. The door to her apartment above the shop was open and Patches was sitting on the welcome mat outside, decidedly put-upon.
Only one person in the world could’ve thrown Patches out, and Pru was certain she’d made her leave the key after they broke up.
Lisa scooped up a forkful of pad Thai leftovers right from the package and gave Pru a winsome smile.
“Hey, girlfriend.”
Pru rolled her eyes, put Patches on the cushion in front of the TV, and finally took Lisa in. She looked…good, Pru supposed. Taller than her, with swagger and charisma to spare. Once upon a time that greeting would’ve made Pru a bit lightheaded. Now Pru wondered what she had been thinking.
“If you stare at me much longer, I might have to charge rent.” Lisa chewed slowly before sending her a wink.
The mystery of Pru’s infatuation was leering at her from the middle of her kitchen, where Lisa was putting the empty take-out box back in the fridge.
Well, at least why they broke up wasn’t much of a mystery. Carelessness. Mess. The mess followed everywhere this woman went. Pru moved behind the counter, pushing Lisa out of the way, and opened the refrigerator. Inside, the pad Thai was not the only evidence of her ex’s presence. The jar of lemonade that Pru had prepared this morning and was quite proud of was almost empty, maybe half an inch of liquid left in it. Purposefully. Pru knew this. There had been so many fights over this exact thing. And Lisa always claimed?—
“Don’t look at me, there’s still some in there.”
Pru rolled her eyes again. At this rate, they might get stuck in that position. She had a feeling she’d be doing it several more times till she managed to get Lisa out the door. And to hopefully take the keys back from her this time.
“And speaking of something being left in there…” Lisa came closer, too close, and Pru smelled gin on her breath. No wonder she was hungry and thirsty. She always was after she’d gone drinking. But it was too early, and a work night too.
“You’ll get in trouble at Dragons, Lisa. Headmistress Nox will have you on your ass if you show up drunk or hungover.”
When Pru tried to go around her, Lisa extended an arm and boxed her in by the open fridge.
“Fucking Nox doesn’t mingle with the security crowd, sweets, she’s too froufrou for that. She just asks if things are quiet and goes about her day. Nothing to worry about.”
“That’s not what you told me in the past.” She put her hands on the arm caging her in and gave it a tentative shove. Lisa didn’t budge. So, it was going to be that kind of evening. Drunk and belligerent. On the sofa, Patches, who had witnessed plenty of these nights, grumbled loudly.
“I told you many things in the past, sweets. Like how I would never take you back if you crawled to me, how you could beg me forever and I’d never let you in… I changed my mind. Beg and all is forgiven.”
Lisa smiled her toothy cocky grin, and the smell of alcohol made Pru nauseous. Patches jumped off the sofa and scrambled to her feet. Any other time, Pru would have found it adorable. Her protector. Tonight, she was more worried about her possum getting hurt. She tried to appeal to Lisa’s better angels.
“I think the gin is making your memory fuzzy. Or your senses. I’m asking you to leave.”
Lisa leaned in and sniffed Pru’s throat. Clearly Lisa either had no angels, or they were in a drunken stupor. The nausea intensified and Pru closed her eyes, trying to keep her dinner down. She backed into the open fridge, rapping her elbow on one of the shelves hard enough that she saw stars. Lisa was too close, not giving her any breathing room.
“Back off, Lisa.” Pru shoved at the shoulder still holding her hostage. Lisa grunted but held her ground. Pru braced herself to push harder. She was done playing nice.
The front door opened with a bang, and Patches let out a squeal of delight.
“I think you should listen to the lady.”
