“Vera,” she said, scandalized. “You detest speakerphone.”
“I know,” I whined. “But I miss you.”
She sighed. “I fucking miss you too. I think I might have to go into witness protection. I need to hide from my family.”
“Did the renovation get delayed again?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I want to talk about you and why are your hands full?”
“Would you believe me if I said my hands were full of dildos?”
She gasped.
“Well, notjustdildos, I guess, but they’re for an event on Thursday.”
“Youare hosting a sex toy party?” Tess asked slowly. “You wouldn’t even buy me lingerie at my bachelorette party because it made you feel uncomfortable. You literally fast-forwarded through sex scenes until you were thirty.” And then in a whisper, she asked, “Do you even own a sex toy?”
“I... have an electric toothbrush,” I said, and then felt immediately mortified even though it was just a joke. “I’m kidding by the way... and yes, I own a vibrator,” I said quietly. Even though it hadn’t been used in a hot minute.
“Well, I certainly hope that something in that box of tricks is for you.”
“No, but I will consider buying a new one from a discreet website that uses discreet packaging once I have an apartment of my own.”
“Oh my god, you’re still on Ruby’s couch?”
I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “My spine is forever changed.”
“I’m guessing the search for an apartment is still bleak.”
“Basically, I’ve looked at every apartment that could possibly be in my budget if I also started driving Ubers on nights and weekends. But I still need a few months to save up enough money for first, last, and a
deposit. Some places even want three months up front. And it doesn’t help that my boss, who is twenty-six, by the way, emails me every morning to check on my progress. Yesterday she came by my office to inform me that residents were asking questions and hoping that their grandchildren could also visit for extended stays.”
“Vera, honey, you know we’re happy to help you—”
“I am not borrowing money from my best friend. That is a recipe for disaster. What if I ran away with the cash to another country and changed my name and never paid you back?”
“V, your passport has been expired for a year and a half.”
“I’m pretty sure international criminals aren’t bothered by using fraudulent passports.”
She sighed. “Well, let me know if something turns up. Mama needs a weekend getaway, so helping you move in would be a great excuse. Too bad you can’t crash with our old friend Dr. Buckley.”
I’d arrived to my car and managed to balance the box on my knee while I opened up the back.
“Yeah, I basically don’t exist to him, so not much has changed since college,” I said with a grunt as I placed the box inside. I took the phone off speaker and held it to my ear with my shoulder as I sank into the driver’s seat.
“I’m pretty sure you can’t exactly erase the existence of your ex-wife from your memory. Plenty have tried.”
“Well, I can tell you that whatever grudge he had against Brody, he’s still holding it.” My purse chose that exact moment to spill over from where it had been sitting on the edge of the passenger seat and I groaned as I leaned across the center console to scoop the most random, pointless shit off the floor. Why was I still carrying a two-year-old half-eaten bag of trail mix? And broken sunglasses? Did I actually think I’d find the tiny missing screw to fix them?
Tess kept on talking—something about a themed party we went to in college where everyone had to come dressed as a different version of Adam Sandler.
Eventually, I relinquished all the items I couldn’t reach to the black hole under the passenger seat and sat back up so I could get back to—
“Fuck me,” I said, and immediately ducked down.
“What’s going on?” Tess asked. “You got a case of road rage?”
