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“I’m sorry. I’m an ass. Can we try this again?” A pathetic apology.
“A do-over?”
I give her a small smile. “Yeah, a do-over. Let’s start again so we’re playing by the same rules. I’ll try to do a better job defining this friendship.”
Her smile is vibrant. “I may not have even been playing the same game.” Rachel scrunches her nose. “Sorry. I know I’ve been asking a lot from you. I just really like having you around.”
“I’ll still come around, but not as much. Okay?”
“I can do this. I swear,” Rachel offers cheerily. She tucks the roses under her nose and inhales. And then sneezes.
I walk Rachel up to the door and lean down to hug her good night. She reaches up on tiptoes to wrap her arms around my neck and nearly tips over. I put my hands on her waist. “Steady there.”
She giggles. “You’re too tall.”
“I’m the same height I was when you met me.”
“The tall height.”
I smile at her. She took her heels off in the car, shrinking her down to my chest. I never realized how high her heels were until this moment. “Try it again?”
She nods. I lean down, and she wraps her arms around me, impaling my neck with a stiletto heel. “Oh no! I’m so sorry.”
“How about we get you inside before you cause some serious injury to one of us.”
“Are you going to stay over?” She bats her eyelashes and sticks out her lower lip.
“I thought we clarified those rules,” I tell her.
“I make the best French toast,” she says. “You won’t regret it. Emma’s not here tonight, and this house scares the shit out of me when I’m here alone.”
I can understand that. The sounds of this house have been the soundtrack to several of my nightmares. She’ll be passed out before she knows it and won’t hear a single rattle. I just need to get her to bed.
I hold open the door as she stumbles inside. I help her navigate the stairs to her room with an arm around her waist as she holds onto the banister.
“I don’t think she wants to be here.” I cock my head, not sure I heard her correctly.
“Say that again?”
Rachel continues to rifle through her drawer, eventually pulling out a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.
“Emma. I don’t think she really wants to live with me.”
“Where is she tonight?” I ask, remembering Rachel said she’d be sleeping here alone.
Rachel looks confused, like she can’t remember.
“Let me get you some water.”
I leave her to change. Not helping her do that because it will only lead to trouble. I turn on the kitchen light.
“Where are you?”
I’m about to call up the stairs to say that I’ll be right there when her tone becomes more hysterical. “Where the fuck are you? Why aren’t you home?”
Who is she talking to? Did she call Emma?
“You don’t want to live with me anymore, do you? You hate me. I know it. That’s why you never sleep here. You're going to leave me too, aren't you?”
