by Lexy Timms
Oh. That explains the hunger. For a moment she debated going back over for breakfast, but decided against it and pulled her muesli out from the cabinet. Work, medicine, cats. Another time...maybe.
With that, she opened the first of her daily medicines.
“THANK YOU, CLAIRE. See you in the morning.” About to press the end button, she rolled her eyes when she heard more talking and held the phone nearer. Claire didn’t quit rambling for another two minutes so, while listening, Lillian poured her coffee and swallowed a prescription pain pill.
At last, the blabbering came to an end. “I understand; I think a compartment inside the staircase is a great idea. Let me think about it over tonight and give you a few more ideas in our meeting tomorrow.” Feeling a tiny twinge of guilt for being so eager to get off the phone, she added, “I think the staircase idea would be a really efficient use of space in your home.”
Claire showered thanks, and Lillian had to stop her before it led to another rant. “All right, Claire. I’ll see you at 10 tomorrow. Yes, in the morning. I’ll be there. Have a good night.” She ended the call almost before she said goodbye, and propped her feet up on the corner of the table. “Geez, does the woman ever stop talking?”
Suddenly paranoid the phone was still connected, she lit up the screen and let out a sigh of relief to see that it wasn’t. She let out a groan and let herself lounge there for a few minutes, recuperating.
What has he been doing? Her spontaneous “adventure” with Cayden happened three days ago. She hadn’t heard from him. Maybe he’s waiting on me. But I’m waiting on him. Who’s going to make the first move?
She hoped it wasn’t her.
In their time of silence, she had been thinking nonstop about him and their relationship—whatever kind of relationship it was—even while she was with clients. First the throw-up incident, then her drunken grief...
Amelia. Her former roommate was the last person she wanted to be thinking about right now, but every time the memory of her getting drunk and Cayden finding her on the floor of the porch came back it was tied to those vivid flashbacks of the time they lived above the nightclub.
The night Amelia saved me from the bad things. That scarred her even now. She knew it happened all the time, guys trying to slip roofies into drinks or being too forceful toward a girl who didn’t want to talk, but that didn’t make processing it any speedier. Being cornered against a wall in a dark nightclub was weirdly hopeless; everyone thought they were just another couple making out. Until Amelia saw, and knew instantly that it was all wrong.
Lillian smiled. That guy’s night had not ended well. That nightclub was literally her home turf, and Amelia was very protective of it.
They never saw that guy again. And Lillian never went back to that club except in the broad daylight before it was officially open. Reg the bartender was a great guy, and she always enjoyed talking with him.
The emotions started to come back. What an equally good and terrible time, Lillian thought. Back then, she had gotten into the habit of sleeping in headphones on nights where the music kept her awake. Rent was cheap but the apartment was far from nice and not in a great area. And she had Amelia and Reg.
I wonder how Reg is doing, she thought, getting up to find a snack. I wonder what it would be like to go back to that place and see our old stomping grounds.
Sometimes she felt like she was still talking to Amelia. Maybe she was, in a way.
She opened the cabinet and the first thing she saw was the bottle of gin. Where did I even get that? How long ago? There was no telling where it came from; she was clueless.
“I don’t need that,” she told herself, and reached for some bread. “This will help me.” I hope tonight the pain isn’t as bad as last night. Perhaps her incessant thoughts about Cayden were giving her too much stress, sending her body into a downward spiral. Her prescriptions were barely keeping her intact, and some foods that normally didn’t react with her had been misbehaving.
Just a ham sandwich. I shouldn’t feel bad after eating that. Scrutinizing every detail of her food, she finally deemed the sandwich safe to eat and scarfed it down. This is miserable. I shouldn’t have to worry so much. She washed the plate, laser-focusing on her stomach as if she were waiting for that cold, lightheaded feeling to come back. Her muscles tightened in fight-or-flight mode, ready to sprint if she felt the least bit sick.
It’ll be okay. Casting a long look at the bottles of prescriptions and vitamins and supplements on the counter, she let out a sigh. “You know,” she said to Black Cat, who was asleep on the back of the sofa, “I think what would do me the most good is having someone to talk to. A real human someone, not a cat. No offense.”
Black Cat didn’t move.
Maybe I am crazy for talking to them so much. She remembered when Cayden had asked her about that. When she answered “no,” it was honest. But nothing could replace having someone there who could listen and respond and rationalize. More than ever, she wished Amelia was just a phone call away. But after she died, Lillian hadn’t attempted to make any new friends. Over time, she got into the bad habit of not letting herself develop friendships with anyone.
Now she was regretting that decision.
That’s what I get for distancing myself from everyone. She started thinking about who she knew that she could get to know, and couldn’t think of anyone except Cayden and her clients.
Claire would love to be able to have me around all the time. Lillian laughed to herself a little. That would be a very one-sided friendship.
A thought hit her out of the blue, something that hadn’t occurred to her in a long time.
I should call Amelia’s parents. She and Amelia had been friends since they were young, and lived together for years. Lillian had essentially become a member of the family. After her death, she got much closer to Amelia’s parents and brother until they were all able to get back on their feet again.
She felt her heart wither and leap at the same time. It stung, the thought of talking to Amelia’s family again, because it felt like she was so close but out of reach.
I think it would help. Nothing’s going to change if you keep being scared, Lillian. She sat up and opened the contacts on her phone. Sure enough, there was the name: Frances and Tanner Waters. The closest people to parents she’d ever had. The people who had transformed her perception of family.
Lillian pressed the call button and listened to it ring. She couldn’t figure out why exactly she was calling. Perhaps there didn’t have to be a reason.
“Hello?”
It’s her. “Hey, Mom,” she said, trying to keep her voice strong. “It’s Lillian.”
Frances gasped and squealed. “Oh, Lillian! Honey, it’s been so long. Where have you been? Are you all right?”
A huge smile pulled up the corners of her mouth. “I’m fine. I’ve got a pretty successful business now. I work a lot. How are you?”
“We’re fine; you know us, simple and happy. Tanner’s just taken his car to get new tires. I’m about to leave for my dentist appointment, but I’ve got another minute to chat.”
“It’s okay, I can call some other time.”
She could hear Frances tsking her on the other end. “Don’t be silly; I want to hear your voice as long as I can. We’ve missed you. When can you come visit again?”
I wish I could come now, she thought. “I’ll try to work something out. I’m adding more clients to my schedule right now, so my days are pretty much full.”
“Do you still do the organizing thing?”
“Yes.”
“Wonderful. How is your health?”
Lillian tensed. “It’s okay. I’m doing my best.”
“Last time we talked, you weren’t doing so well.”
That was a long time ago, before I knew what this was. “It was a long road of tests and doctors, but we got it squared away. I’ve got it under control now.” That’s a lie.
“What was it, in the end?”
“A sickness called Crohn’s.” Saying the name out loud felt different, like her tongue had a hard time shaping the sound. “It means my GI tract gets inflamed and irritated, but mine isn’t the most severe. I have medicine that helps, and I’m really careful what I eat.”
“I see.” Lillian could picture Frances crossing her arms and thinking hard. She always did that when learning something new. “If you need anything, you call us. Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Good girl. I’ve got to run now, dear, but please call again. Oh, have you heard from Andrew lately?”
She got a small flashback of walking along old railroad tracks and eating ice cream with Amelia and her brother when they were younger. “I haven’t. It’s been about a year since we last spoke.”
“I’m going to scold him about that. He’s still working for that factory, and they just hired him a few days ago to go inspect another factory near your place.” Lillian heard the sound of rustling papers. “Are you still living in Hanniston?”
Andrew’s coming here? “I am.”
“I think that’s the place they’re sending him within the next couple of weeks. We’re not sure when. I’ll call him later tonight and have him get in touch with you.”
The idea of Andrew coming sent a rush of elation through her body; she suddenly felt like she could run a mile in a minute. “Please have him call me.” It’d be nice to see a familiar face.
“Absolutely. I can’t believe he hasn’t thought of it yet. I’ll make sure to scold him.”
Oh, Frances, you’re such a crack-up. “You do that. Have fun at the dentist, Mom.”
“Don’t worry about that. Dr. Roberts looks like a rugged Fabio. I’d stay in his chair all day if I could.” Frances erupted into her dainty laugh; it sounded like the tinkle of teacups. “Don’t tell Tanner.”
“Your secret is safe with me. Talk to you soon.”
“Bye, dear.” The phone clicked, and Lillian set hers down on the table. She couldn’t find the right words for her feelings; talking to Frances still didn’t seem quite right if Amelia wasn’t there, even after several years. But Andrew, out of all places, coming to her area? Seeing him again felt like old times coming back to life—almost. Andrew knew her differently, more like a sister; they had seen each other grow up, and went through the grief of losing Amelia together. No friend she could make now would be the same as having lived through all that with someone else.
She could talk to Andrew.
Lillian jumped up, filled with energy. The house felt too small for her swelling heart, so she went outside and dragged the folding table out from its resting place, leaning against the house. On the edge of her yard were waves of flowers, sprouting up new each day as spring came into full bloom. She picked bundles and brought them to the table with her supplies.
“Hey!” The voice echoed across her yard. She put her scissors down and saw Cayden walking toward her.
“Hey, stranger.” She snipped off some of the flowers’ stems, trying to look productive.
Cayden came over and sat on the steps of her porch. He took a swig of something from a red Solo cup. “Doing your flower-drying thing?”
She nodded. “I should have done more before now. The shop that sells them needs more.”
He looked impressed. “You really are quite the entrepreneur.”
“Worked my butt off.”
“I get that.” He stared out into the mass of trees behind their yards. “It took a long time for me to build a reputation as a trainer.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I actually started a gym back in my hometown.”
Lillian threw a few stem trimmings off the table. “Started? Did it fail?”
“No, the opposite.” He brought his stare back to her and smiled mischievously. “It was bought out. I’d been working eighty-hour workweeks for so long that I decided to move and take a little break.”
Her jaw dropped. “Eighty hours? How did you sleep?”
“Not much.” He chuckled and took another drink. “Got an email from Jack, the guy who set up Peter’s Gym here. Said there was a waiting list of high-profile clients who wanted only the best.”
“And you’re the best?”
Cayden winked. “You got it. Sold my gym and came here. Nice to take a breather.”
“I’ll bet.” She tossed some wimpy-looking flowers onto the ground and looked at his cup. “What’s that?”
“Pre-gaming. Inviting some friends over tonight.”
“Party on a Thursday night?”
“Think of it more as an intimate gathering than a party.” His face wasn’t flushed, but it had color to it. She wondered how many he’d drunk. “I don’t mean intimate like that.”
“I figured, although I wouldn’t put it past you.”
His face lit up. “To have more than one person involved? Not my thing.”
“Sure.” Lillian rolled her eyes sarcastically.
“Actually, I came over to invite you. Since it’s a smaller group, I wondered if you’d be interested.”
“Aw, so sweet.” She pursed her lips. “It’s okay, I have work to do. Parties aren’t really my thing.”
“That’s cool but this isn’t a party, remember?”
“Close enough.”
“Should I keep pressing you or have you made up your mind?” He stood up and picked up a flower, examining it.
“I think you already know the answer.” She returned the smirk he gave her.
“Lil,” he started in a different tone. “you always have work to do. Every time I ask you to come have fun, you’re working.”
“I have to give my cats the best life possible, you know. Speaking of whom...” Setting her scissors down, she leapt onto the porch and opened the door to let the cats out. They ran off into the bushes, jumping onto the ground noiselessly.
“It made me really happy when you came over the other night.” Cayden poked his lower lip out. “You should take a break from work again.”
Ugh, not the pouty face! “I’m glad it made you happy, but I have a client in the morning who’s always going ninety to nothing. After two hours with her I’m exhausted.”
“Are you passively telling me to keep the music down?” He seemed to think it was funny.
“I didn’t think of it that way, but it would be awesome if you could.” Giving him a smile with all her teeth, she cut off a length of string and began to tie the flowers together by the stems.
Cayden fixated on what she was doing. “I thought you didn’t know anything about flowers.”
“I know about flowers and how to dry them, but I don’t know the names and what makes them grow best like you do.” Almost a little shy, she added, “I would really like to learn more about it, though.”
She could see his thoughts on his face: Finally, something I can make conversation with her about! “Well,” he said, picking up his cup, “I can teach you anytime. You have my number. All you have to do is call.”
“Are you flirting with me?” She was surprised at the sultriness of her voice.
“You tell me.”
That’s what he texted me before I went over to his place, she realized, and her face got warm. They looked at each other knowingly, but neither of them brought up what happened the other night.
“I’d better go back,” Cayden finally broke the silence. “Have to make the house look presentable before my guests arrive.” He gave a little bow and began walking away.
“Have fun,” she called.
“If you change your mind, come over.”
Lillian turned back to her flower table. She knew he meant it when he invited her, but she didn’t want to admit that joining the “intimate gathering” sounded like fun. It was something very different from her usual nightly routine, and would shake things up. Give her a new frame of mind. Loosen her up.
It might be good for me to go. She almost persuaded herself to walk over later in the evening, but at that moment her stomach tightened jus
t enough for her to feel.
So much for that.
All the flowers were ready for drying, so she carried them inside and hung them inside the hall closet. A few other bundles hung there, not dry enough yet to frame. The smell gave her some sense of solace.
It might not be tonight, she thought, but someday I’ll go to one of his parties.
No matter how she tried, she couldn’t deny that the idea of going excited her. Before she and Cayden met, she had zero interest in any sort of party. There were too many bad memories associated with them.
But she also couldn’t deny that, in the little amount of time they had known each other, Cayden had broken through some of her glass comfort zone. And nothing scared her more than that.
Chapter 7
It would be funner if you were going to be here later.
She wanted to respond to Cayden’s message and be half funny, half snarky, letting him know that “funner” wasn’t technically a word, but decided against it. Earlier she’d told him that she had work to do, and although a lot of her actual work involved her phone, she tried not to touch it while double-checking her schedule for tomorrow and next week.
For some reason, all the dates and times began to get muddled in her head. Groaning, she leaned back and rubbed her temples. I need to save my brainpower for tomorrow with Claire. No, not even brainpower. More like patience. All her clients were great. They had their quirks and strong preferences, as was to be expected since they were all more high-profile people in one industry or another. But, for the most part, they were pleasant to be around.
Claire, however, was a different story. She wasn’t unpleasant company; she was kind and always had snacks and drinks ready when Lillian arrived. But her energy was so draining, Lillian had a hard time at longer appointments with her. Claire was best in small doses, and tomorrow’s appointment was a longer one.
Do some deep-breathing exercises. Meditation. Something to wind down and have an early night. She sent a prayer up to whoever would listen that Cayden would remember to keep his music down. Certainly he would since he had gotten to know her and her schedule.
