Hanging On (Jessica Brodie Diaries #2)(85)

"Uh huh?"

"And he politely asked if I wouldn't mind walking a little. I could tell he was uncomfortable. He said he would take me back to my room. He was going to head home and wondered if I might thank Gladis for the offer to stay the night. And that was it. We walked around the house, he took me to my room and hugged me good-night. The end."

I breathed out heavily. "What a letdown."

"It was smart, Jess. I would have kissed him, which would have led to other things, and then we’d be in a pickle today when I woke up next to him realizing that he freaks me out. The whole thing would have been doomed because I needed contact when I shouldn't have gotten it."

"So..."

"So what?"

"So, we need to get you laid so you can think straight."

"God! Or at least a make-out session! It has been a long time. I am craving some contact. And I imagine Willie is off limits?" She looked at me with a straight face.

"I might rent him out on the weekdays when I need a break. You best get a job, though. He'll be expensive."

Lump chuckled and we headed into breakfast.

That day was a sad affair. I shuttled everyone to the airport depending on their flight times. I dropped them off and tearfully hugged each good-bye, promising to stay in touch. I knew it would be another bunch of months before I could see them again. My only consolation was that I got to keep one. One friend would stay behind.

Next time I promised to go to Los Angeles to visit, and yes, I would try to bring William with me; the little devil on my shoulder kept muttering that the fates might pull William and me apart before then. I tried to shush that ass**le, but doubt takes roots if you let it.

After each farewell I arrived back home to less and less people. William managed to take off Monday and Tuesday with me, so he stayed at Gladis's house, monitoring me and drinking with Gladis. Every time I got sad I would find him by my side, rubbing my back or telling me jokes, or just there for me to lean on.

Finally I had to take Flem, the last to go. Flem was mostly drunk, as was Lump. I had been the only one not drinking all day because I was the driver.

Flem hugged us both and abruptly turned and walked away. She hated good-byes and preferred not to say them. She told me I had one week to plan a vacation to L.A. One week and plans would need to be made. I was told to aim for January. Lump was told to move home—home being L.A. of course.

And they were gone. Only Lump remained.

Gladis and William were high as kites when we got back. Gladis never really let herself go, but today was an exception. She was probably dealing with the prospect of once again having a mostly empty house. We joined them in the ever-lively lounge, two marauders joining a celebration.

“Lump, hurry up. How much did you take in there?”

I was sitting in an uncomfortable chair with a few boyfriends, waiting for Lump to finish trying on half the store. Unlike the random collection of boyfriends next to me, who were patient and resigned, I was inpatient and irritable. Trying on clothes did take a second, but it wasn’t rock science. If you didn’t know if something looked good, walk out and get a second opinion for cripes sakes.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Lump yelled. “How much money do we have left?”

“I don’t know—a few hundred, I think.”

We were on a giant shopping spree, spending the gift cards William would not let return. I’d tried everything: putting it in his things, leaving it in his center console, slipping it in with his bills, even tucked into his wallet (it was torture not to peek at what else he had in there, but I stayed strong). Every time I left it somewhere, I found it a week or more later attached to my fridge with a clippie magnet. He never said anything, never hinted about it, but every time it was there, waiting for me to use it.

Finally, after giving Lump a week to settle in, which didn’t seem like much, but in Gladis’s house was plenty, I’d told her we were going shopping, and ignored her protests that she had no money. I then ignored her protests that I should spend the gift cards on my own. I wished her very merry un-birthday, then punched her in the arm when she refused to try on clothes. It was testimony to how eagerly she wanted to be talked into shopping when she let my punch land.

“Okay, okay, I’m ready.” Lump walked out of the changing booth with three things in hand.

We were in the big mall, buying nearly everything in sight. Freaking William had so much money on those cards it was like Christmas. We’d already been shopping all day, and only used about three-fourths, which was something like fifteen hundred dollars.

“I never thought I’d say it, but I’m getting tired,” Lump said, showing me her purchases.

“That shirt is cute. I tried it on but I looked flat-chested in it.”

“Yeah, I plan to wear a good bra and this cute little shirt under it. It’ll work.”

“Hey, didn’t that shirt have a stain on it? I thought you got rid of it?”

She was wearing this super cute white shirt that was tight in all the right places, but loose in the shoulders to give it a unique style. It looked great on Lump, and we were all totally jealous when she bought it, but true to the nature of great finds, she spilled ketchup on it half a day later.

“I just couldn’t part with it. It is so cute. I always had hope some dry-cleaner could get it out. Then, two days ago, it was folded up with my other clothes.”