“Then give me the dates so I can book your tickets. And if that’s what this is about—me buying your tickets—we’ve been through this.” Only about a dozen times. I’m paying for them. I don’t care how stubborn my friends are. Preschool teachers and personal trainers don’t make anything close to what I’m making. I can easily afford to fly them out here, and they’re just going to have to let me.
Ramon raises a hand as though to halt me. “At least wait until Tuesday to book.”
I frown. “Why Tuesday?”
“Because,” Ramon says sitting up straight and glaring at the camera. “Some airlines give discounts if you book on Tuesdays. You wouldn’t have to spend so much to fly us out there.”
I roll my eyes. Yep, that’s what this is about. “Fine. I’ll book on Tuesday.” Today’s Saturday. I can wait a few days.
With that, Sally finally gives up the dates of her fall break. I jot them down to give to Laird later.
“So, what are you up to today?” Sally asks, picking up her mid-morning coffee and blowing over the rim. This has become our Saturday morning routine. I Facetime them while I make my first cup of coffee, catching them just after their brunch. It’s another one of those little things I look forward to.
These mornings make me feel just a little less lonely. It’s been just over two months since Beau walked out of my life, and I may not cry at the drop of a hat, but the ache I feel is just as fresh. The best thing I can do is stay busy.
“Laird and I are going for a run later.”
Sally sits up straight. “What time?” she asks, her eyes widening. “I-I mean… Do you need to go right now? We don’t want to keep you.”
I frown at her weirdness. “Um, no. Laird had company last night,” I say, grinning at the memory of my hulking and awkward PA introducing me to Colin, the well dressed and funny ad exec whose Audi is still parked in my driveway. “We’ll go later. When he’s feeling up to it,” I say with a suggestive shrug.
Sally bites her lip. “Well… d-don’t wait until it gets too hot. You don’t want to.... dehydrate.”
I screw up my face. “It’s a dry eighty degrees. I think I’ll be okay.”
She shrugs, and I swear, she looks nervous. “Just looking out for you.”
“Right... O-kay…” I take a sip of my coffee and wonder if falling in love has forever changed my two best friends.
* * *
It’s justafter noon when Laird and I head out for our run. My street straddles West Toluca Lake and Studio City, an older neighborhood. My Tudor-style cottage was built in 1936, as were a lot of its neighbors, so I don’t really mind the jog down Moorpark to the golf course on Toluca Lake.
I’m in love with these houses.
The ones on Toluca Lake Road are pretty ostentatious, but ogling them takes my mind off the running, and at least this two mile stretch isn’t super hilly. Laird already knows my weaknesses.
The sidewalks are good, too. I’m much less likely to trip.
I make him tell me about his date, which could only have gone well, given his high blush. He doesn’t even argue when I ask if we can walk a bit by the gates of the golf course just to catch our breath.
We turn back. It’s a gorgeous day. The sky is such a bright blue, I only feel a tiny stab of envy at the way Laird describes Collin’s sense of humor and how he brought Laird a bottle of real maple syrup in the hopes he’d get to make him pancakes this morning.
He did.
“And how were they?” I wickedly ask when my block is finally in sight.
“Good,” he says, but with his accent, the word rhymes withfood.
“Yer boyfrriend fed you good food,”I tease him, mimicking his accent with the sameoosound in the last three words and a bump over therinboyfriend.
“He’s naw my boyfrriend,” Laird says, but then the corner of his wide mouth turns up. “Naw yet, anyway.”
I laugh at this and slow to walking. We’re almost home, so he lets me get away with it. He’s blushing too hard anyway, and that just amuses me even more. A run and a good laugh and someone else’s happiness. Little things.
I’ll take what I can get these days.
I’m looking up at him, drinking in his joy, his embarrassment, so I see when he trades his smile for a frown. “Who’s tha?”
