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“Doesn’t really matter what his name is. He’s trouble. And it’s done now. I’ll never see him again.”
Charlie didn’t say anything for a moment and then she said, “I’m proud of you.”
“For kissing a stranger? You already said that.”
“Not that. I mean for actually coming out. Thank you. I needed the distraction.” Charlie fell silent and looked out the window.
“You want to talk?”
“When have I ever wanted to talk?”
“It’s why you chose a club versus a coffee shop,” I said. “If you wanted to talk, you would’ve insisted on going to a coffee shop.”
She didn’t reply.
“You want to sleep over at my house?” I asked.
“Will you promise not to try and talk to me about what I don’t want to talk about?”
“Uh, I think I followed that. Sure.”
“Will you make me waffles in the morning?”
The Uber turned into the gated community of Vernon Estates and wound down the curvy road toward my house.
“I’ll make you waffles,” I said as the Uber pulled into my driveway. “But you have to learn how to operate the waffle maker. One of these days, I’m not gonna to be around to make you waffles, and you’re gonna have to learn how to do it for yourself.”
“But that’s such an adult thing to do. Adulting: zero out of ten, do not recommend.”
Chuckling, I waited for Charlie to get out first. She was already punching in the key code to the front door by the time I climbed out of the car.
“You know what I love about your house?” Charlie asked as she stood in the foyer and kicked off her heels.
“What?” I closed the front door and locked it.
“That it’s your house.” She grinned.
“I told you that you could move in,” I said. “It’s kind of lonely living by myself.”
“Liar.” She chuckled. “You love it.”
“I do love it,” I admitted. “But it’s too big for one person. Almost.”
“Arnold still giving you grief about moving out?” She followed me toward the wooden stairs.
“Not nearly as much as my mother. Which is weird, considering she spends most of her time traveling with my stepfather. They’re always at some resort spa, or at a charity luncheon or something. She’s rarely home, so I don’t understand why she’s so upset that I live on my own.”
Six months ago, I’d bought a house. It was modest, but only in relation to the house I’d grown up in. There was no marble fountain in my front yard and I lived in a gated community instead of on private property surrounded by wrought iron fences and a guard post worth more than most people’s homes.
I flipped on my bedroom light and immediately went to the walk-in closet with custom-built cherry wood shelves and a matching dresser. I opened the middle drawer and pulled out a pair of sweats and a T-shirt to hand to Charlie.
“I won’t move in. But maybe I should finally bring over some clothes to keep in the guest room,” she said with a smile.
“That makes sense for as often as you’re over here.”
Charlie lived in her parents’ pool house. For all her acts of rebellion, she hadn’t yet cut ties and moved out. She loved her parents, even if she wanted to drive them to insanity.
“I’m gonna shower real quick,” I said. “And then I’m going to bed.”
