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Hudson
“Where have you been anyway?” I ask Palmer.
I don’t mention that I’ve been watching her driveway all night, wondering when she would get back, imagining her in Matt’s hotel room or something. It’s none of my business, I know.
“I was…out.” She steps into my house and into my kitchen. “Is she still up?”
“No, she crashed early. Took her to the slopes after preschool.”
“Again, huh?”
I sheepishly grin because I’d live on the slopes if I could, and she’s worried Adley will follow in my footsteps and not discover anything else that interests her. Palmer just doesn’t get it because she hasn’t done it.
“She asked,” I clarify.
“Uh-huh, and no pushing from you, I suspect.” She grins.
I chuckle and throw my fingers through my hair.
“It’s getting pretty long,” she says, touching my thick hair.
A bolt of electricity shoots through my body when her fingernails graze my scalp. I jump back, and she startles.
“What?”
I shake my head. “I just got a shock,” I say, unsure how to explain what happened.
Palmer has always touched my hair—hell, one time she even cut it. I had to wear a hat for a month afterward, but we still laugh at why we thought it was a good idea at the time.
“So, what’s the problem?” She drops her bag on the kitchen chair.
For whatever reason, that act makes me realize how comfortable we both are at each other’s houses. What will happen if Theresa and I get more serious? This comfort level we have with each other will all fade away, and it will affect Adley, I know it.
“Come over to the fridge.” I walk her to the picture Adley drew at preschool today that she proudly showed me when I picked her up. All her artwork is on my fridge, so I had to put this one up, but I’m not sure what some people will think when they see it. “Adley drew a picture today.”
“Oh nice. Can you even decipher what it is?” She laughs and looks at me. “Remember last time when we thought it was a mouse pooping, but it was the Easter Bunny dropping eggs?”
“Yeah, this is a bit different.” I point at it, and Palmer gets closer, her fingers on the edge of the paper.
“Oh.” Her mouth twists into a frown.
“Yeah, oh.”
On one side of the picture is Palmer and me with Adley between us, holding each of our hands, and there’s another woman on the other side, far away. She’s wearing a dress, and her hair is blonde. She has a straight line for her mouth while Palmer, Adley, and I are all smiling.
“Does Adley not like Theresa? I thought she did?” I’m hoping Palmer can fill in some blanks because I was thrown when I saw it.
“Me too. She lets Theresa do her hair, and she’s never said a bad word about her.” Palmer does appear surprised.
“Have you ever said anything about Theresa that maybe she could’ve overheard?”
Palmer tilts her head and narrows her eyes. “Seriously?”
“I’m just trying to figure this out.”
“So, you’re going to blame me?”
I open the fridge and grab a beer. “I know what you think of her,” I say without thinking it through. Big mistake.
