“Well aren’t you just a lady of the night these days,” I tease from my spot in the kitchen.
She rolls her eyes, looking annoyed that she’s been caught doing what I assume to be a walk of shame on a Monday morning. “Good morning to you too,” she snaps, dropping her purse onto the couch.
“Have you recently become some kind of drug lord or what?” I quip back, pouring us two cups of coffee.
She dumps a sickly amount of sugar into her cup. “What? No.”
“Well then…” I stare at her until she looks at me. “Are you ever going to tell us where you’re going all the time these days?” I know she’s a grown adult, but this behaviour is really unlike her.
After taking a long pull of her coffee, Beth gives up. “I met a guy.”
“And…” I press from across the counter.
“And he would just prefer to keep our relationship on the down low,” she says nonchalantly.
“You mean he wants to keep it a secret?” I ask her, completely dumfounded. Beth isn’t exactly the type of girl you hide from the world. She’s smart, funny and gorgeous to boot.
“No,” she snaps. “Kyle’s family is very wealthy. He’s trying to protect me. He doesn’t want anyone to think I’m after him for his money.”
“You’ve got to be fucking joking me, Beth.” I gape at her. “That’s the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard!” I flail my arms around for exaggeration.
“You don’t know shit, Lennon. Back off!” she seethes, standing up from the breakfast bar. “And don’t you dare tell my sister!” she shouts before stalking off down the hallway and slamming the door to her bedroom.
“Not telling Hannah my ass,” I mutter to myself in the empty kitchen.
Beth is acting seriously weird and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to tell someone about it. Especially now that I know more about the situation. This guy sounds like a real prick, and her standoffish behaviour is only sending up more red flags. Something is definitely off here.
I take my time running errands: picking up my favorite work shirt from the dry cleaners, depositing my Christmas present cheque from Grandpa into the bank, and swinging by the LUSH store on the way home to get more body butter. That shit smells unreal. I vacuum the living room when I get home, do a couple of loads of laundry, and by one thirty, I am done.
I’m not sure if I should text Jami and let him know that I am coming by or if I should just go over. I opt to just go over. It seems less awkward than sending one of those ‘I’m coming over now’ messages. They remind me of the equivalent of when someone honks when they’re waiting in your driveway. That is annoying as fuck. I slip into a different sweater and grab my coat before heading out the door.
When I pull up to Jami’s house, I am caught off guard by the onslaught of memories. Everything seems to play in fast forward through my brain. This has been happening a lot over the past few days. The dreaming, the flashbacks. It’s overwhelming.
I climb out of my SUV, grabbing the six-pack of Bud I brought with me from the passenger’s seat, and make my way up the walkway. I knock softly on the door and hear barking. When he opens the door, I almost wipe out on the front stoop when Martha comes running out to great me. Martha is Jami’s black pit bull, and yes, she’s named after Martha Stewart, but she’s also the sweetest dog on the planet.
“Hey, you.” He winks, reaching out to take the beer from my hands.
“Hey,” I answer back before squatting down to pet Martha. “Hey, pretty girl. I haven’t seen you in so long. I missed you,” I say scratching her behind the ears and giving her a kiss on the cheek.
“Well I’m not sure that’s fair.” Jami smirks, closing the door after us.
“What’s not fair?” I ask, my back turned towards him as I start to take off my coat.
I feel his breath on my ear. “I’m not sure it’s fair that you greet Martha with a kiss but not me, Beatle.”
My body shudders and I brace myself on the wall.
“I’ll let it slide for now,” he whispers into my ear before walking towards the kitchen, patting his leg for Martha to follow.
I shake myself out of the stunned spell he always puts me under, taking off my shoes and finishing hanging up my coat. Then I take my time walking through the house, looking at everything. The last time I was here, I was completely consumed with lust. I’m not even sure I saw anything that night. I don’t even remember seeing Martha, come to think of it. I wander through the living room, past his large, green sectional, and step up into the open kitchen.