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They broke apart. “This is Helen.” Annie gestured down the stairs. “My roommate? Landlord?” She gazed down at Helen as she left the options dangling.
“Friend,” Helen said with a disarming smile.
“A pleasure to have you,” Lori said, coming the rest of the way down the stairs. “This is Kimberly.”
“Kimberly!” Annie said. “Like we discussed.”
“You have a beautiful home and family. Thank you so much for having me at the last minute.”
“Any friend of Annie’s is always welcome,” she said. “Come on, let’s get you settled.”
* * *
Annie emerged from the bathroom and saw their bags sitting on the double bed on top of an expensive-looking quilt. Matching pillow shams rested against the headboard. There was no sign of Helen or anyone else, for that matter. Even the ancient cocker spaniel, Tubby, was nowhere to be found. He’d barked when they arrived and again when he waddled in from the backyard. He gave both Annie and Helen a suspicious sniff, dragging his wet muzzle along the tops of their shoes and then went to lie down on a round dog bed next to the den sofa.
Annie slid her fingers along their bed’s wooden footboard, considering.
She could always sleep on the cream-colored leather sofa, she supposed. It was soft and luxurious but probably not ideal for sleeping on. She’d sweat all night, and it would squeak when she rolled over.
She looked at the narrow bed again. It wasn’t the tiniest bed she’d ever shared with another person, and Helen was used to sharing her bed. She had a very Mother-Earth approach. She shared it with her children whenever they needed it, invited Annie to take a nap on it, or patted the mattress for Annie to climb up beside her so they could talk. Annie had technically been in a bed with Helen before, but she’d never slept with Helen. She’d never stretched out, elbow to elbow, under covers in the dark.
“Annie-bo-bannie?” Lori’s voice floated up the stairs. “You want a drink?”
Helen was in the kitchen wearing an apron that matched Lori’s, a sturdy fabric thing in a fetching pale green. Her hair was clipped back with a black velvet barrette. She had a wineglass in one hand and was looking over an open cookbook.
“We’re making pies,” Lori said. “Have you ever made pie?”
“I’ve eaten lots. Like, so many.”
“That’s a no.” Helen smirked knowingly.
“Louis wants pumpkin and pecan,” Lori said. “His parents are coming tomorrow too.”
“Jesus, Lor. I didn’t realize Thanksgiving would be such a big deal.”
“Thanksgiving is a big deal.” Helen licked her finger and turning the page to read the other side. “In my family, it was always a bigger deal than even Christmas, and we’re Catholic.”
“Then I’m doubly honored to have you,” Lori said.
Helen smiled. “I think this crust recipe will work just fine. We’ll just double it and put the dough in the fridge.”
“Actually, you can go, Annie. Helen is all I really need,” Lori teased.
Annie swatted at her. “Where are your children?” she asked.
“Louis put the baby down and then took Lindsay to the store with him.” Lori pulled out a plain, black apron for Annie. “So it’s just us girls.”
Helen wasn’t kidding when she said her friends’ parents loved her. She handled Lori’s questions gracefully. Sometimes the lawyer in Lori took over, and her questions felt like a trial—rapid-fire queries about Helen’s family and past. When Helen said she had two children, Annie turned around to wash her hands in the sink, unable to look her in the eye.
“Your kids are still so little!” Lori said when Helen divulged their ages.
“They’re with their father.” Helen sounded defensive.
Annie picked up the bottle of wine and topped off Helen’s glass, bumping her hip gently. Helen smiled in response.
“Say no more,” Lori said. “My parents divorced when I was seven. It’s not an easy situation.”
“No,” Helen agreed.
