Page 89 of The Write Stuff

Her eyes narrowed.

“Don’t even,” I warned, wagging my finger. “It’s time to come up with a plan.”

“And what happens if I decide to go to school?” Lucy challenged. “That means I’ll be living with my sister for years. How are you going to handle that? Are we all going to live together?”

“Absolutely not.” I vehemently shook my head. “I’m going to want Wylie all to myself at a certain point.” I smiled just thinking about it, then careened back to reality. “Things can be worked out, though. Don’t focus on mundane details. Think about the full picture.”

She didn’t say anything for several seconds, then sighed. “Maybe I should talk to my mom. I’m just not sure what I would be good at.”

“Talking to your mother sounds like a good idea,” I admitted. “She probably has a good grip on what you’re capable of. Give it a shot.” I stood when I heard Wylie’s bedroom door open. “The one thing you need to do is stop feeling sorry for yourself.” I took a step away from her, then stilled. “Also, you need to apologize to your sister.”

She made a protesting sound.

“Apologize,” I repeated. “She’s miserable without you.”

“Um … I’ve heard you guys in the bedroom. She’s not miserable. She only speaks Klingon when she’s really excited.”

A smile took over my features before I could stop it. “She still misses her sister.” I left Lucy to stew with what we’d talked about and crossed to Wylie as she appeared at the hallway opening. “Ready?” I held out my hand.

Wylie darted one worried look toward Lucy, and I could practically see her steeling herself as she nodded and took my hand. “Yup. Where are we going?”

“Wherever the trolley takes us today.”

“Oh.” She perked up. “Can we take selfies like tourists and eat someplace funky?”

“I believe all of that can be arranged.” I didn’t look at Lucy as we left. Neither did Wylie.

It was time for Lucy to get her head out of her ass and start planning for the future. Unfortunately, I had no idea if she was capable of making the first step, let alone the biggest one. Something told me we were about to find out, though.

WE VISITED SEVERAL SQUARES AND a Catholic Church that had some sort of historical significance that I missed because I’d been too busy looking at Wylie. When we got near City Market, however, I knew we wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.

“It’s four blocks, and it’s known as the ‘Heart and Hub’ of the city,” she said as she read from her phone. We’d yet to actually cross into the market area, but Wylie had a process when approaching something new. She wanted all the information first. I’d grown used to her little whims.

“What sort of stores?” I asked. I was hungry, ready for lunch, but I was willing to shop first. In fact, I was keen on buying something for Wylie. I had no idea what, but so far the only things I’d bought for her were intangible. Food was the big one. I wanted to get her something she could look at and think about me.

Yes, I was that guy, apparently. If my mother could only see me now.

I cringed when my mother’s face floated into my head. We were far enough into this relationship to recognize that it was something real, which meant our mothers would have to be addressed. And, unlike when we first started, our mothers were going to become an issue sooner rather than later. The longer we dragged things out, the worse things would be when they finally did come to a head.

“A lot of studios,” she said. “There’s a cookie company. We should totally take cookies home to eat in bed later.”

“I’m up for that,” I agreed.

“There are ceramics by someone named Sibel, and they look cool,” she said. “I want to check that place out. I love ornate ceramics.”

I nodded to encourage her. Any little tidbits that busy brain of hers wanted to throw out, I was here for them.

“There are shoes, which I’m less excited about,” she said.

I glanced down at her Crocs. “You don’t say?” Personally, I found it adorable when she wore her Crocs. She was still self-conscious about it, though. As if to prove it, she gave my arm a light, playful slap and kept reading.

“There are sweet grass baskets, illustrators, and various bars.”

I perked up. “Any place to eat?”

“Are you hungry?” she teased.

I nodded. “Actually, I am.”