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If Lexi and Jake are happy, then I don’t have to worry about River’s crush. Or if he has a crush. I don’t need to spend time with him. Or prove anything to him.
Only, River adored Lexi through dozens of her conquests. He’s never been bothered by her relationship with another man. Will this really shake off his crush? He says he’s over her, but how could a romantic like him get over his supposed soul mate so quickly?
Deanna:I’ll pass the news on.
Lexi:Thanks, Dee. You’re the best. Let’s find you some D tonight. Too bad River canceled on us.
He did?
Wait. Does she mean it’s too bad because I could have sex with River? Or because we could enjoy his company?
It’s Lexi.
Of course she means sex.
But then again, it’s Lexi. That doesn’t mean she’s over the idea of having him herself. She’d happily step aside for me. But if I’m not interested, anything goes.
The ball is in my court.
Deanna:Oh?
Lexi:Yeah. A work deadline or something. But I’m still gonna take out the ladies. Find you someone.
Honestly, I’m not worried about her running off with someone. I’m not. But it never hurts to be careful.
Deanna:You’re ridiculous.
Lexi:No, babe, I’m re-dick-u-lous. And this time tomorrow, you will be too. Gotta go. Love you. Don’t forget I like a California King. No feathers. Big pool. Tell Jake.
Deanna:All the important stuff, yes. Love you too.
After I put the phone away, I convince Jake to make reservations. Which means I only have to keep my eye on Lexi until she’s snuggled up with Jake at some adorable hotel.
I can do that.
Even if I’m way more interested in figuring out where River is going tonight.
Chapter Twenty-Three
River
All afternoon, my thoughts whirl. I drive to a park I used to love, the one everyone calls Castle Park, even though that’s not the real name. When I was a kid, the jungle gym resembled an actual castle. Stone walls, sand, wooden bridges.
Now, it’s all brightly colored plastic.
The same soccer and baseball fields behind the play place. The same community center. The next generation of excited children and tired parents.
I look up from my spot under one of the overgrown trees. I need to get out of my head. Which means I need to draw what I see.
No imagination, no editorializing, no exaggeration.
The lines, exactly as they are.
It’s an exercise for young artists, so they learn to see what’s there, not what they believe is there. The world doesn’t break into lines and curves the way we imagine in our heads. Neither do colors.
It’s different.
And it takes practice, to see what’s really there.
