Lanie flips a switch, and the overhead lights beam down around us. Lanie’s brown eyes are wide, one black-and-white-Converse-covered foot still in the door as if she fears what she’ll find. I’d laugh if I wasn’t having too much fun watching these two tiptoe around like some ghost is about to pop out at them.
Nina’s head peeks around Lanie’s body, her blond hair hanging loosely over one shoulder, and our eyes lock. My lips tip up in amusement.
“Hi, love,” Nina says, pushing Lanie through the door when she sees me sitting in my comfy chair.
I raise my hand and wave, not wanting to speak for fear I’ll start laughing and pee myself, which has been a danger ever since giving birth. Yet another less-than-sexy problem I deal with on the regular.
“I’m glad to see you’re not in your bed,” she says, sitting down on the arm of my chair and pulling me into a hug.
Nina is a high school counselor and very adept at handling grief, which is a real pain in the ass for someone who’s trying to avoid talking about her feelings. “How you doing?” she asks, backing up and looking me over, her gaze lingering a little too long.
If they see that I’ve managed to pull myself together, they’ll insist on birthday shenanigans, and I’m not quite fond of that idea.
I showered, hoping to wash away the remnants of my earlier wallowing, but it was no use. My pale complexion can’t hide the stubborn splotches of distress, even with a Sephora’s worth of makeup plastered over my face.
“I’m struggling.”
A complete exaggeration.
My head lowers, shaking back and forth, playing up the misery card. Based on how her eyes are narrowed in on mine, she knows better. I’ve managed to fake it till I make it before, but tonight, I’m failing.
“We know better, Ally,” Lanie cuts in, walking toward her typical spot on the outdated ottoman, complete with a gaudy floral print. It’s a hand-me-down from my mother, which is about the only thing that woman has ever given up to me. “You’re trying to avoid a celebration for the big four-oh, and we are not here for it. You and I both know you’ll regret it eventually.”
Lanie gets comfortable, stretching her long, lean legs out on the couch as Nina takes a seat on the floor at my feet.
“She’s right, Alyssa. This happened on your thirtieth and you still to this day whine about not throwing a party.”
“We promised we’d never let you do that again. So pull up your big girl panties and embrace your midlife hotness,” Lanie says, earning a stern glare from Nina.
Nina springs back up, putting her arm around my shoulder. She pulls me into her embrace again. “Don’t listen to her. We all know she’s about as comforting as sitting on a cactus.”
The most unladylike snort rips through me.
Lanie’s mouth opens and then closes like a fish out of water. “I didn’t say anythingbad.”
Nina rolls her eyes, turning her focus back on me.
“I know you’re struggling, love. We won’t push you into going out if that’s not what you want,” Nina coos, hand running down my untamed hair soothingly.
I look up into Nina’s ice-blue eyes, framed by the longest non-manufactured eyelashes I’ve ever seen, determined to change the subject.
“Have I gained weight?”
She nods and Lanie gasps.
“Nina Joy Dunbar, what the hell’s the matter with you?” Lanie’s high-pitched squeal is enough to pull a smile from me. I try to smash my lips together to contain my laughter, but it’s no use. A fit of preteen giggles escapes me.
Nina’s eyes widen as her head bounces back and forth between us. “Huh? What did I say?”
Lanie rolls her eyes this time. “Pay attention. You’re not typically the space cadet.”
Nina ignores her, gaze settling on me. “I’m sorry, love. I’m... distracted.”
I want to ask her why, but she forges ahead, beating me to the punch.
“My mother called. She wants to come to town for the holidays.”
Nina isn’t distracted, she’s distressed, and I can’t blame her. Samantha Woods is equal parts obnoxious and terrifying.
