“That depends.” Libby would have left it at that, but Hildy was hanging on every word. “On your definition of coincidence.”
“Like take me and JJ. He wouldn’t have been out in the woods that day if his girlfriend hadn’t dumped him. Personally, I think it’s good riddance, because she sounds like a nightmare. Have you ever met someone who adopts a new personality based on who they’re sleeping with, like why figure out your own mess when you can date your way to an identity?”
That one hit a little close to home. Rather than saying,Yes, and she was my mother,Libby pretended to take the high road. “You met her?”
“No, but she has a big digital footprint. Unlike JJ. So rightthere you have a mismatch. My read is that this Genevieve”—Hildy made air quotes around the name as if it were just as likely to be an alias—“is an emotional vampire. She’s looking for someone to be obsessed with her and tell her how beautiful she is twenty-four seven.”
“Is she?” Libby couldn’t stop herself from asking. “Very beautiful?”
“Eh.” Hildy tipped the paper bowl to her mouth, swallowing the last of the melted ice and sugary syrup before setting it on the bench beside her. “Under the makeup and filters, who knows? But she must think this new guy is going to give her more status, or stroke her ego, even though he seems pretty into himself. Look at me, I’m a butcher who does interpretive dance. Pretentious, much? Guess what he calls his business.”
Libby glanced at Jefferson, whose stony expression made it clear there would be no hints from that quarter.
“Bite Me?” Jean guessed. “Stuff My Sausage? Porky LaBeef?”
Libby frowned, silently encouraging her to stop there.
“Deep Cut.” Hildy paused to let that knowledge settle in. “I left him a one-star review on Yelp for having terrible taste in women. No offense, JJ.” She leaned her head against his shoulder for half a second before sitting up again. “If anyone understands the pain of giving your trust to a two-faced user, it’s me.”
Libby pretended there was something in her eye, rubbing it with her finger to hide the twitching of her lid.Two-faced? How terrible!
“Just the one face on our gal.” Jean smacked Libby’s cheek like she was waking her from a faint. “But it’s a good ’un.”
“With a skin care routine like hers? Of course it is!” Hildy stroked her own firm young neck. “And speaking of what goes around comes around, it’s lucky for me this guy was such a tragic loner, or he wouldn’t have been out in the woods that day. And then I wouldn’t be here, aliveandon the brink of realizing myprofessional goals.” She shifted on the bench, taking one of Libby’s hands in both of hers. “Which is whereyoucome in.”
“Ye hear that? Listen up,” Jean hissed.
“I am listening.” Libby squeezed the words out of the side of her mouth, maintaining eye contact with Hildy. “We’re both listening. Very, very quietly.”
Hildy let the silence build as she stared into Libby’s eyes. “Are you for real?”
It was hard to say whether Libby’s strangled laugh sounded more like a rusty screen door or a Muppet facing a firing squad. “What?”
“You strike me as very self-aware. A savvy businesswoman who knows her audience and creates the content they want.”
For an endless, excruciating moment, Libby was sure her secret was out.
“Your feed is highly curated,” Hildy prompted, before Libby could blubber a confession and beg for mercy.
“Yes, well. Aesthetics are—so important. I’ve always felt.” Libby’s nose was probably growing by the second.
“Proper actualized, she is,” Jean chimed in. “More herself than most anyone else.”
Hildy waited to see if Lillibet had anything to add to this ringing endorsement before continuing. “And what do you envision, moving forward? Because I sense the hunger. To put yourself out there. To express yourself. To be known.”
It was so stirring the way she described it, one fist clenched, that Libby was halfway convinced. Had they forged a magical mind meld across an ocean of flimflam… and also a real ocean?
“Do you want to stay the course, growLove, Lillibetinto a global brand? Because I can help with that.”
Womp womp.“I’m not necessarily locked into a specific paradigm.” Or, you know, saying things that made sense.
To Libby’s infinite relief, Hildy looked pleased. “Then you’re open to other possibilities.”
“Yes.” So open. The Grand Canyon of openness. How to put it in Lillibet terms? “I truly believe that I am ready to… manifest my freedom. Of self-expression. In a fluid and evolving way.”
“Like one o’ them lamps,” Jean suggested. “With the swirling blobs.”
Libby paused. “A lava lamp. Indeed. But less, you know, lampy. Lamps can be beautiful and, ah, light-giving, but they’re also socontained.If you see what I mean.”
