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That’s me in the back row on the far left.
The text bubbles appeared then disappeared.
She waited impatiently.
Finally Nigel responded.
Damn.
That’s it? That’s all he was going to say?
He texted again.
I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me or not.
That’s really me.
Edwina felt annoyed, which wasn’t fair. She’d texted Nigel out of the blue. She was awkward at that age, that was the whole point. Yet she had wanted him to at least know which one was her. If he knew her well enough to marry her, surely he should be able to recognize her features. If she saw a baby picture of him, she would know it was him.
It wasn’t a test, though. She shouldn’t be treating it as such. If he didn’t recognize her, so what? Yet, she couldn’t help it. She was disappointed in his reaction.
Jesse had Finn out in the water on an inner tube and was spinning him around, to Finn’s delight. Sullivan was asleep on a towel a few feet away from her, his hat over his face. His head was propped on his palms. She wanted to tell him that he needed to reapply his sunscreen, because his chest looked like it was getting red, but she considered making that statement through the lens of a guy friend and realized Jesse would never say that to him.
Jesse would figure that Sullivan was a grown-ass man and it was his own damn fault if he got fried to a crisp.
Astrid was in the house making margarita number two for them.
Nigel texted again, but he didn’t comment further on the photo.
When do you get back to NY? You never gave me your flight information.
Thursday at eleven in the morning.
That was a total lie. She was actually arriving Tuesday around eight p.m. But she didn’t want to see Nigel Tuesday night and she didn’t want to go to the office Wednesday. She needed transition time. She needed to brace herself before she saw him.
Which spoke volumes. Who needed to brace themselves before they saw their partner?
Are you coming straight to the office?
She sighed.
I can.
Excellent.
She sighed again, really putting her heart and soul into it. It was a lengthy sigh.
“Ed,” Sullivan murmured.
She started. She had thought he was asleep. She turned toward him. “Yes?”
He was completely still except for his lips, which moved just enough to mumble, “Can you stop sighing so loudly? It’s cutting into my nap time.”
“Seriously?” Geez. He didn’t seem to understand she was in crisis and it was basically his fault. He shouldn’t be sleeping. He should be in emotional turmoil the way she was.
“You’re supposed to be relaxing.”Hesounded relaxed. He sounded like he didn’t have a care in the world.
She wanted that feeling of ease too. “I’d love that. I’m trying, Sullivan. I’m really trying. Which is why I’m drinking margaritas.”
