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“Can I trust you both with a pitcher of whatever between you without Dad here?”
Hayley rolls her eyes. “God, Eli. It’s a weak margarita mix. I think we’ll be fine. I’m helping Mom with a secret project, so that’s our focus. This is just a bonus.”
“Hayley Jo! Are you ever able to keep a secret?” my mother chides.
“You got double named so one, you’re in deep shit, and two, it must be about me, so what gives?” I ask.
“Well,” she glares a bit at Hayley, “since your sister partially let the cat out of the bag, I want to have a small gathering here at the house to celebrate the transitions at AnSa.”
“Small gathering? Mom, do you even know how to do something small?” I tease.
“Elijah Jackson, I certainly do.”
Hayley laughs. “Now who’s in deep?”
I sit on the end of Hayley’s chaise and pinch the back of her calf playfully. “You don’t need to go to any trouble on my account, Mom. Seriously.”
“It’s not just about you, Eli. Your grandfather deserves recognition, and so does your father. It would be the department heads and their plus ones, a few family and friends. We can consider it an end of summer party, a bit into the fall school year. September, even at the end, is still so beautiful, and I thought it would be nice.”
“Itisnice, Mom,” Hayley agrees. “Someone is just being anti-spotlight.”
“I’m not being anti anything, smart ass. If this is what you want, Mom, and it’s not too much trouble, thank you. It would be nice. Let me know if you need my help in any way. Just make sure there are plenty of eligiblenicegirls for Wes to talk to.”
“No way, Mom! Do not set up a buffet for the man whore.”
“Hayley, enough. A nice girl would do Wes some good,” my mother scolds. “I’ll do my best, dear.”
I lean across and give my mother a kiss on her cheek. “I’m going to head back to the city. Tell Dad I’ll check in with him tonight and see him at the office in the morning.”
“I will, sweetheart. You’re welcome to stay here more often if you like.”
“I know. Thanks.” I kiss the top of Hayley’s head. “See ya later, Kiddo.”
“Bye.” She twists her fingers lightly around where my wedding ring used to be and winks.
“Be sure to...” my mother begins.
“Text when I get home. I know. I will.”
After I pull out of the drive and onto the highway, I shut the radio off and power both the windows down. I rarely drive without music, but it feels good today. Instead, I just focus solely on what is just beyond the hood of my car and simply breathing. I need these seventy-five minutes to get ready to purge my apartment of “the former us” when I get home.
I walk in my front door with more determination on this subject than I ever have. The only thing is, I don’t know where to start. I find myself staring at the walls of my apartment, frozen. I haven't got a clue how to make this place me.
A knock at my door snaps me out of my frustrated fog. I look out the peephole, and it’s my neighbor, Lauren. She and her girlfriend of eight years live across the hall from me. They run an interior design studio together in Tribeca. She knew Tori too. We moved in within a month of each other.
I turn the deadbolt and open the door. “Hey.”
“Hi, Eli. Sorry to bother you, but I’m making this chicken dish for dinner and ran out of butter. Can I steal some?”
“My fridge is your fridge. Top shelf on the right.”
“Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.”
She runs past me into the kitchen in her tank, shorts, and blue fuzzy socks. Her red hair is wound in two sticks on the top of herhead. Lauren stood by me through everything. She’s like a bonus sister.
“I would’ve run down to the store, but I have to watch this like a hawk while it’s baking.”
“You know I don’t care. It’s fine.” I can hear the refrigerator door close, then nothing. I turn toward the opening to the kitchen and Lauren is leaning against the wall staring at me. “What?”
