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Lenna blinked.
“Gillian,” the woman reminded her. “Remember? The master with club soda? Got that wine out of your shoe?”
A fist clenched tightly around her heart. Gillian had also been there, in the background, the first day she and Rhiannon met. “Right,” she mumbled.
They just stood there for a moment. Gillian shifted awkwardly. “Sorry. I’m so bad with meeting new people. It’s a condition, actually. Social anxiety. I come off as this total weirdo. Or sometimes I lurk when I see someone I want to talk to, and I don’t know what to say, and people think I’m stalking them. I’m not. It’s just…I don’t know, my mind goes blank.”
Lenna looked at her with surprise. “That sometimes happens to me, too.”
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed.” Gillian looked relieved. And then, after a beat: “Want to try that yoga place that opened updown the street sometime? You and your friend—what’s her name again? She seemed nice.”
“My friend’s, um, not in LA anymore,” Lenna said. She could feel her mouth twitching.
“Oh.” There was a wrinkle on Gillian’s brow. “Well, just you and me, then? Or something else, maybe you hate yoga.”
I do hate yoga,was Lenna’s first instinct. But then she thought of her mother again. Not the woman in the dream, leading Rhiannon away, but the mother from childhood, encouraging her to come out of her shell.
“Actually,” she said, turning back, “that would be great.”
9
Lenna
October
Present day
When they start back down the mountain, Lenna feels like she’s getting a sunburn. She’d liberally applied sunscreen to Jacob’s head but had forgotten herself. She carries Jacob down, and on the last bit of trail, he wakes up but doesn’t cry. He looks around solemnly.
“Look at him,” Rhiannon breathes. “It’s like he’s about to make a proclamation.”
“We call that his wise old man face,” Lenna says, and then feels a pinch of sadness. It’s one of the few sweet inside jokes about the baby she and Daniel came up with together. Then she glances at Rhiannon again. She’s pissed she missed her window. Chickened out. She needs to say what she came here to say. It’s literally weighing on her, heavier than her baby on her chest.
Back on the property again, the air feels thicker, dustier. A few paces from the door, Lenna’s phone buzzes in her pocket. She pulls it out. Daniel has texted again.
I want to talk to this friend you’re with.
Nerves streak through Lenna’s stomach, and she sucks in her teeth. Rhiannon turns at the sound. “Everything okay?”
“Sure.” Lenna shoots her a distracted smile and turns away to type.
I’m safe. I’m fine. I promise.
Dots pop up immediately. His reply appears, a huge block of text.
This isn’t like you at all. You don’t go one whole state away because our baby is crying. You don’t just jump on a plane to catch up with a friend. Forgive me for saying this, but since I’ve known you, you don’t seem to have any friends, certainly not ones that are meaningful. I know you’re stressed. The crying is a lot. You’ve had to deal with all of it. I haven’t been helpful. I want to change that. But this seems completely out of nowhere, and I’m worried.
Lenna grits her teeth. Daniel isn’t wrong. And yet…
“Lenna?” Rhiannon says, and she jumps. “Everything okay?”
“I just…” Lenna presses her phone to her chest. “Um…”
Rhiannon walks around to face her. “Who’s texting you? Your husband?”
Lenna closes her eyes. But maybe this doesn’t have to be difficult. “He wants to speak with you. To assure him we’re fine…”
“Oh, Lenna.” Rhiannon looks crestfallen. “I can’t.”
