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Lauren produced two measuring cups. Not optimal, but they would do.
Starting with the white while it was still chilled, Lauren poured the wine. Perched on the stool, Melissa watched Lauren. Not her hands. Her face.
“What?” Lauren asked before sipping her drink, holding Melissa in her gaze over the rim of her glass.
“What what?” Melissa’s shoulders flew up in a defensive stance.
“You want to say something,” she replied, growing surer of Melissa’s ulterior motive. She didn’t just want to hang out.
“Sure Lou. I want to say a lot of things. It’s called a conversation.”
Lauren narrowed her eyes as if she could force the truth from her. It took less than a minute for her friend to break.
“Alright, listen. You know I’m straightforward, but I don’t want to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Instantly, Lauren understood that she wanted to talk about Jenny. That she was going to force her to think about everything she’d been shoving down and avoiding.
With a sigh, Lauren acquiesced. “Jenny called you?”
“Not exactly. I asked what you two were up to on a Sunday night, and she said you weren’t there.”
Lauren nodded. When Jenny first moved to Miami a few months ago, she spent every weekend at her apartment and a few nights during the week, too. Jenny wasn’t a fan of sleeping in a construction zone, so she rarely came to her place.
They’d decided not to move in together immediately so all the changes weren’t too overwhelming, but the plan had been to move in together after Jenny’s short-term lease was up. That date had come and gone and Lauren hadn’t said anything about moving. Neither had Jenny.
Lauren wasn’t sure she wanted to know what conversation with Jenny had led Melissa to the bakery, but she couldn’t run from it forever.
“What else did she say?”
Melissa winced before taking a gulp of wine and holding out her measuring cup for more. Lauren slid off her stool and went to the fridge to retrieve the bottle.
“It’s not so much what she said exactly,” Melissa started, taking unusual care in selecting her words. “I just get the sense that she’s lonely, Lou. Like she’s not really happy here.”
The truth Lauren had been avoiding stung. Melissa’s words were lime juice on a paper cut.
“It’s been hard to juggle everything,” Lauren admitted. “I can put in more of an effort. The Cultura Cubana Gala is this week, maybe she’ll have a good time there, and I can plan a little weekend away or something after.”
A strange desperation mounted in Lauren’s chest. She didn’t want to fail with Jenny. She didn’t want to prove everybody right about their compatibility.
Melissa tipped her head to the side. There was obviously more she wanted to say, but she swallowed it down with her Chardonnay. Lauren followed her lead and then opened the second bottle.
