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Wyatt continues but she doesn’t need to; I see it plain as day. The addresses are fictitious. I look up at Wyatt, glee beginning to run through me. She was right that it’s about perspective as a smile spreads on my face.
“Have you shown this to anyone else?” I close her laptop.
“Of course not,” she says flustered. “I wanted you to look at it first because I just couldn’t believe it, but I checked everything three, four times.”
“I need to speak with Lewis,” I say, standing up from my desk.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Wyatt asks as she follows me into the hallway.
“No,” I say abruptly, stopping in the hall which causes Wyatt to almost crash into me. “Not because I don’t trust you,” I confirm, “but because Lewis can’t speak in front of you.” Wyatt’s expression softens. “I’ll take it from here.” I give her a reassuring smile.
She nods and I leave her standing outside my office as I make my way a few doors down. Lewis looks up from his desk ready to say something sarcastic when he must see the look on my face and closes his mouth.
“Lewis, we need to talk,” I begin and close the door behind me.
* * *
I’m running lateas usual, and grab a solid copper colored dress that’s belted at the waist from the hook and slip it over my head. Leaving the collar unbuttoned to the third one down, I look at myself in the mirror when I hear Noelle enter my room, her friend Sofia not far behind.
“Are you decent?” she yells before she enters.
“That depends, but if you’re asking if I’m dressed, then the answer is yes,” I yell back smiling.
Both girls enter my closet and Noelle immediately jumps up on the island like she used to when she was little. Sofia twirls around, getting a look at everything all at once.
“My mom never talks to me like that,” she says, running her hand over one of my gowns.
“Like what?” I ask, fixing the belt on my dress.
“You know, joking, having fun,” she says absently, as if she realizes it’s a problem but she doesn’t care enough to be sad about it. I often wondered if I was too much a friend to Noelle and not enough of a mother, but I love the relationship we have so I don’t really care.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at practice?” I ask.
“We finish early on Fridays,” she says. “Sofia and I are going to the movies.” Hopping off the island, she stands behind me. “That’s pretty.” She motions to the dress.
“You look hot,” Sofia says, draping herself over the island. “Do you have a date?” She wiggles her eyebrows while her light blonde hair fans out over the wood top.
I look at Noelle before I answer, “Something like that,” but then quickly change the subject. “What movie are you seeing?” Turning around, I look between the two of them. “More importantly, who are you seeing it with?”
Sofia dissolves into girlish giggles, so much higher strung than Noelle, reminding me a little bit of Georgie and myself. Sometimes the differences in people are what bring them together. Noelle has always been a little shy and reserved, and Sofia is the one that brings her out of her shell. On more than one occasion, Noelle’s sensible nature has stopped Sofia from getting into too much trouble. They complement each other.
“Sofia’s boyfriend has a friend, and I said I would go with.”
“You make it sound like a chore.” Sofia playfully smacks her on the arm and then turns to me. “Nathan is really cute, and he’s nice too.”
“He plays soccer,” Noelle says, as if it’s something heinous.
“We deplore any kind of sport,” I explain cheekily to Sofia.
“Hating the sport is one thing, but liking the players because they’re hot is something else entirely,” Sofia teases, reaching up to pluck a hat off the rack.
“This is cute.” She places the brown, wide brimmed fedora on her head. “Can I borrow this?” She looks at me expectantly and I nod.
“Thanks!” she squeals. “Come on we’re gonna be late,” she turns to Noelle, tugging on her arm.
“I’ll meet you out front,” Noelle says, turning back to me.
Checking my dress one last time, Noelle places her chin on my shoulder, looking at our reflections in the mirror. We have never looked more alike than we do now, and it’s not just our blue eyes the shape of almonds, or our brown hair and high cheekbones. “You look happy.”
