“Picnic?” I shrugged. “Don’t you remember it from Fourth of July a couple of years ago? We played cards on it before the fireworks started.”
Lauren thought for a moment. “I was with someone at the time, wasn’t I?”
“Payson Grimes, the physical therapist. He didn’t want to play cards so he just sat behind you and played with your hair.”
Lauren stopped walking. “I’m not sure if I should be creeped out by that.”
“Definitely creeped out. You couldn’t see the expression on his face while he touched you.” I grinned, knowing that wasn’t what she meant. Although, I was totally not lying. Payson Grimes was a creep. Getting her to break up with him had been some of my finest work.
“Clay, I meant whether I should be creeped out by you holding onto those kind of details. Last I checked, you don’t have a photographic memory.”
“The fact that I remember the guy better than you says more about you than it does about me.”
Lauren huffed out a breath and kept going, heading toward one of the large trees.
I lengthened my stride to keep up. “What would you like me to say?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m just mad, I guess. And I’m not sure if I’m mad at you or me. Maybe it’s a bit of both.”
“Why would you be mad at yourself?”
“You said it, didn’t you? What does it say about me? That I dated the creepy physical therapist, and he’s barely a blip in my memory.”
“The two of you only went out for a few weeks.”
“You’d know.” She elbowed me lightly but didn’t back away. In fact, her head came to rest against my chest. “Why didn’t you just ask me out yourself?” she murmured.
“You know why. It was easier to pretend I didn’t want to.”
She tilted her head to look up at me. “And scare away my boyfriends?”
“I got pretty good at it.”
“You told me Payson smelled like bacon when he sweated.”
“Didn’t he?”
She laughed, and then couldn’t stop. “I couldn’t un-smell it once you said it, and I was so mad at you. It was July in Phoenix! We were all sweating to death.”
I couldn’t put my arms around her with all the bags in my hands so I nudged her to keep us walking towards our destination.
We reached the tree, and I pulled the quilt out of the bag she was carrying, shaking it out until it unfolded and I could place it on the ground in the shade.
Lauren plopped down, crossing her tan legs in front of her. She had on a pair of khaki shorts that hit mid-thigh and a white blouse that billowed a little in the breeze, as did her hair, though it was pulled back into a loose ponytail.
“I do remember this quilt now. You told us we could never say a word to your Grandma about using it outside, because as far as she knows, you sleep with it every night.”
“It’s one step above tarp-level comfort. It’s not meant for snuggling. She probably intended it that way.”
Lauren tilted her head. “I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve heard you talk about your grandparents, and it’s never with fondness."
Her words stabbed me, although I knew there was more curiosity on her side than reprimand.
“They’re good people. I should talk better about them.”
“When was the last time you saw them?”
“This morning. I was there at five mowing their lawn.”
