I feel my cheeks burning and I close my eyes for a moment. I can’t really say why I feel so embarrassed to hear something like this. I mean, my parents obviously have a sex life, and they’re human beings and all that. But it feels weird hearing her talk about the guy I grew up with like he’s someone from a GQ spread or something.
“They need to fix your hormones,” I say, walking into the house. “You’re turning into a letch.”
“I am not a letch,” Mom says tartly. “I am simply an older woman who knows what she likes.”
I roll my eyes at that and start up the stairs to my old room.
“I’m going back next door, come over when you’re ready to lend a hand,” Mom calls to me.
“You’re still painting, right?” I look over my shoulder to see Mom nod. “I’ll change into clothes I can get covered in paint, and then come over.”
I open up my suitcase once I’m in my room, and find my jeans and T-shirt. While I’m getting changed, I look out my window. Across the yard, the blinds are shut in the window directly opposite mine, so I can’t see into it, but I know that by the end of the day Zane will be in there. His parents, like mine, probably kept his bedroom more or less the way it was the day he left home.
I glance around my own room. Thankfully I had managed to develop some sense of taste by the time I left for New York City, for my then-new and exciting job at the publishing company. I’d last had my parents paint the walls a creamy off-white with a sage-green trim, and the bed that my parents had bought for me was a full-size with a wrought-iron headboard.
I toss my clothes from the drive into the hamper, and pull my hair back into a ponytail to keep it out of my face. I’m ready to go say hello to the Lewises and throw myself into helping them get ready for all the partying they’re going to do.
I say a quick hello to my dad out on the back patio on my way over. He’s in the middle of building something. Even if I hadn’t already volunteered to help next door, I had got into the habit when I was a kid of avoiding him when he worked with tools, because Mom didn’t want me to hear him cussing.
Of course, by now I could probably teach him a few phrases. Living in New York has been educational. I give him a quick peck on the cheek, and make my way across the yard, over the property line to the house next door.
“There’s my favorite girl!” Bev Lewis spots me even before my own mother does, and she puts down the paintbrush in her hand to give me a hug. She’d always wanted a daughter, but Zane was her only child. Mom had told Bev that she was just as much my mom as my mom was, anyway, and that had stuck.
I kiss her on the cheek and grin up at her.
“Happy anniversary, Bev!”
I give her shoulders an extra squeeze and I give her a kiss on the other cheek.
“Did your mother tell you Zane is coming tonight?”
I pull back from Bev, and nod. “She mentioned it. I’m glad he could get leave. God, twenty-five years of being married.” I shake my head in astonishment of that. I haven’t even had a relationship last more than twenty-five weeks.
“Your father and I are just about there, too,” my mom points out, barely looking up from the trellis she’s painting.
“And when your anniversary happens, I’ll be just as amazed,” I tell her. “Now, what do you need me to help you with, Bev?”
“After that long drive here, you’re right on over here to help me out?” Bev shakes her head, still smiling, and gives me a pat on the shoulder. “Just take it easy. Your mom and I are doing more wine drinking than painting at this point.”
“Just point me to what needs doing, and I’ll get started.”
I’m surprised at how good it feels, especially after the long drive from the city, to actually do something. I grab a paintbrush and get to work.
CHAPTER TWO
ZANE LEWIS
It’s almost midnight by the time I pull my rental car up the driveway at my parents’ place and cut off the engine. My flight ended up being delayed a good three hours, and then the airline had to figure out how to reroute me. Next door at the Polsens’ place, there’s a car out on the driveway. I perk up a bit. It’s possible they’ve got some kind of guest, but even more likely that Harper’s in town.
I get out of the car and grab my bag from the back seat. I figure my parents are probably already in bed, but I hear the front door opening and look up to see Mom standing there. She’s in pajamas, but she grins at me as I walk up to the front porch, and throws her arms around me like it’s been years instead of months since the last time I saw her.