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Well, fuck. I really hope she’s still coming to my house.HolleyThe doorbell rings loud enough that I can hear it through the door as I push the button.
In some ways, I’m grateful. I’ve stood at a front door one too many times without being able to tell if I’d actually rung the doorbell or not. It’s seriously awkward. Standing at a door, waiting for someone to come who has no clue you’re there, or pressuring someone needlessly with three demon strikes of the bell—either way, it leads to nothing but embarrassment.
I tap my toes against the welcome mat and wait for the door to open.
Considering I took my sweet time driving to Jake’s house, even stopped to fill my practically full gas tank, I’m not expecting Chloe, but she’s the one I get all the same.
“Hey, Holley,” she greets, pulling the house phone away from her ear. “Come on in.”
I follow her inside, closing the door behind me, and make my way down the hall and into the kitchen where Chloe is very much occupied with the phone.
Unsure of what exactly I’m supposed to do, I just kind of post up by the massive kitchen island while she skips around the room and chats with her friend.
“Yeah, of course,” Chloe says into the receiver glued to her ear. Her voice is the kind of chipper only a teenager her age can pull off. “It’ll be fun.”
She listens intently and then snorts. “I know, but I promise it won’t be bad, Sarah. We’ll get a few outfits your mom likes just to keep her happy, but we’ll mix it up with pieces we know will work…” She pauses briefly, then starts up again, “Exactly. It’ll be the ultimate shake-up. We’ll turn her stuff into the stuff you like anyway.”
The kitchen goes silent for five, maybe ten seconds, tops.
Then Chloe’s adorable laughter bursts the dam of quiet.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know what my dad said about that!” She turns her back to the kitchen island, leaning into it and listening intently. “Well, don’t worry about it… No, I know… Your dad told me…”
Shoving off the counter, she stands again and giggles. “I’m working on it. I have to get my dad to—” She stops abruptly, pulls the cordless phone away from her ear to glance at the tiny digital screen, and puts it back. “Hey, I gotta go. My dad is calling me now.” She smiles. “Bet. See you tomorrow.”
I wait patiently, still not understanding what’s going on at all or why I’m even in the house, when she answers the other call.
“Hey, Dad…” She pauses. “Yeah, it’s all done…” She pauses again. “Yeah, I’m meeting them at Cherry Bluff at ten.”
Chloe looks up then, her amber eyes meeting mine and lighting up. “Yeah, she’s right here.”
I swallow. Me?
“Okay, yeah. I’ll tell her.”
She pulls the phone away from her mouth and puts it to her chest. “He’ll be here soon. He got held up a little with Rachel. Said you’re expecting him, though.”
I nod, unable to do anything else. What does held up with Rachel mean? When I left, I thought she was about to leave too. I thought the date was over.
My stomach lurches.
Are they alone somewhere? Did they meet up to have a quickie or something?
Is she there now, listening in?
Is her hand on his leg or…or… Holy hell, stop the madness!
I expect Chloe to hang up, but she doesn’t. Instead, she segues into one of the key pillars of a parent-child relationship—asking for something.
“Hey, by the way, I was just talking to Sarah, and I’d really like to circle back to those makeup lessons I brought up the other day. It’d be beneficial for me and her, and really, that makes it worth, like, double the money.”
She stomps her foot and glares at the nothingness in front of her. “I am not making that up! It’s mathematically true.”
I bite my lip, immensely entertained by listening to her side of their argument.
“Come on, Dad,” Chloe whines. Somehow, though, she manages to do it without being one of those really annoying girls. “How am I supposed to have my big Chlo-up if I don’t know how to do my makeup?”
She rolls her eyes and paces across the wide-plank wood floors. “A Chlo-up,” she repeats. “You know, like a glow up, but for a Chloe.”
His response makes her snort. “Oh my God, Dad! How do I live with someone who doesn’t know what a glow up is?”
Her nose wrinkles, making her bright eyes shine with life. “Oh, gross!” She stomps her foot again. “Yeah, I do know. But just because I know you have a penis doesn’t mean I want to talk about it!”
She pauses briefly, and I lean closer, shamelessly horny for the laughter I’m pretty sure I hear on the other end of the line.
