“I should probably?—”
“Sam.”
I stop as her eyes search my face. “You don’t have to go.”
The words hang in the warm night air. My pulse jumps. “You sure?”
She nods once. Then she opens the door. “Come inside.”
35
BECCA
Iwake up to the bed already cold. Sam often starts his day early, especially in the summer, to beat the heat. I stretch and head out to start the coffee maker before I can pretend to be human. As I move to the pot, I see a note.
Didn’t want to wake you to say goodbye. Thank you for the best night. Coffee is brewed, and I brought the trash cans back in. Love you—S.
That damn thoughtful man. I hate waking up in the morning and having to perform a human action to make my elixir of life. I pour myself some coffee and take a seat on the couch. My phone pings, and I check the message.
Nessa
Zentrology night still on at your house, Becs?
Phi
It better be - my skin needs some extra love from all the stress I am under on this big case.
Tonight’s theme, provided lovingly by Nessa as always, is “Glow and Guidance.” We start the night by each pulling a card, then move on to a full-on skin-care routine. The guidance card is supposed to help direct us to what we need more of.
You bet! I have the face masks ready to go!
Mack
Awesome - I raided the samples bin at the uber expensive cosmetics store Reece loves the other day and can’t wait to try all these overpriced products.
After confirming the time details, I set down my phone and enjoy my cup of coffee, which I didn’t make. I run through the mental list of supplies I have to gather and feel a familiar sense of dread over how much this night will cost.
I take a deep breath in, holding for five, four, three, two, and one, and exhale for eight. I picked up this strategy on some random Insta account for anxiety, and it helps.
I know the girls are bringing supplies, and that I don’t have to buy a significant amount. But the apprehension of spending money is hard to overcome at times.
I remember asking my mom for a fresh orange one day at the store, and she told me we had a coupon for canned pears, which was what we would have to get. I don’t blame my mom; we had to make do with what we could. But the anxiety of those moments from such a young age never truly leaves you.
The Lily Drive house hasn’t closed, so my commission check hasn’t arrived. I know Sam has been making deposits, but I have been paying down the cabin as fast as I could with that.
Against my better judgment, I check my bank account to double-check the amount. My eyes bulge at the additional $3,250I didn't expect from Sam. I check the spreadsheet and find a variety of new entries:
$1,892.23 - Finished Hawthorne Deck early, saved on labor
$473.28 - Returned unused fence materials
And my personal favorite
$250 - Poker night at Jared’s, wiped the floor with the new guy (in for $20)
I laugh at his updates, loving the consistency of him still showing up. But then I realize, with a bit of panic, that I don’t know how Sam has been depositing the funds into my personal account. His name is nowhere associated with it. The familiar fear creeps back in.
Could he take it?
