30. Izzy
30
IZZY
After spending hours collecting seashells, building sandcastles, and talking about anything and everything, we head for book club.
Choruses of hellos greet us when we step inside, since we’re the last to arrive.
“Grab a plate and drink,” Glenda hollers from her usual seat. “And Izzy, I do hope you’ll spill some juicy details about your man. I heard you two went to the lighthouse.”
My face flames at the images that pummel me. Are my cheeks as red as I think they are?
“Uh… yeah… Derrick wanted to show me the view.”
“In my day, we went there to… what do you kids call it these days? Hook up?”
Beside me, Via angles in close and whispers, “Did you have sex in the lighthouse? ”
Stiffening, I purse my lips and inhale through my nose, avoiding her gaze. If I look at her, she’ll see the answer written all over my face.
Unfortunately, keeping my mouth shut doesn’t help. Slapping my arm lightly, she says, “Oh my God, you did.”
“You had sex in a closet on Halloween with Reid,” I blurt out, my voice way too loud. “What’s wrong with sex in a lighthouse?”
The room full of women dissolves into laughter.
“Trust me,” Cassandra says from her spot on the love seat. “Most of us have had sex in that lighthouse. It’s like a rite of passage around here.”
“Oh, God.” I nearly drop my plate in an attempt to hide my face.
Does that mean Derrick knew about it being a hookup spot?
Looks like we’re going to have a conversation about this later.
I fill my plate with snacks and pour myself a glass of wine. Is the one glass more like two? Perhaps. But I need it.
Settling on the couch beside my sister, with Ella and Anna on my other side, I take a deep breath to help center myself.
Maybe if I stuff my mouth through the entire meeting, I’ll make it out of here relatively unscathed.
Or not. Because the moment my sister opens her mouth, the room erupts.
“My sister’s moving here officially,” Via says.
“Izzy!” Ella squeals. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I shove a handful of nuts into my mouth. “I love it here. So why not?” I shrug like it’s no big deal, all the while racking my brain for topics that may distract the group and take the pressure off me .
“Does that mean you’re moving in for good with Daddy Crawford?” One of the ladies asks.
Glenda clucks her tongue before I can answer. “That’s not Daddy. That’s Grandpa Crawford.”
A wave of mortification washes over me. If I could melt into the floor, I would.
Covering my face with my hands, I ask my sister, “Why did you bring me here?”
She laughs. “You’re going to be a full-fledged Parkerville townsperson. You have to pay your dues.”
“I hate you.”
That only makes her laugh harder.
“Do you think you’ll get married?” Lucy asks from across the room. “Might I recommend?—”
“Lucy, dear,” Glenda interrupts, waving a dismissive hand. “No one wants to get married at your family’s mausoleum. It’s a mausoleum. There are dead people.”
“But… it’s pretty,” Lucy defends.
“I think we’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves here,” I say, my heart rate spiking and sweat breaking out at my temples. Not that I haven’t thought about the possibility of marrying Derrick, but our relationship is brand new. I want to enjoy where we are before I think about marriage. So to once again try to take the heat off myself, I blurt out, “Reid and Via are looking at houses.”
Did I totally throw my sister under the bus so that I can stop drowning? Yes. Do I feel bad about it? Not in the slightest.
She smacks my leg. “Thanks a lot.”
I smile at her. “You’re welcome.”
With the attention momentarily diverted from me, I take a moment to compose myself. Who knows what else will come out of Glenda’s mouth before the evening is over .
Luckily for me, though, the group stays focused on Reid and Via’s potential move for a while. They give recommendations for realtors and available properties. She’ll want to kill me later, but it’s worth it for the reprieve.
It might be strange, how little I enjoy being the center of attention when I’ve made so much of my life available to the masses. But it’s different when there’s a screen separating me from the people eager for information.
Things are winding down when the attention does turn back to me. It’s my own fault. Because I’ve been sitting here lost in my thoughts, thinking about the past year and all the changes and how there’s one more change I’d like to make.
“I think I’m going to cut my hair,” I blurt out.
Silence descends on the room. “That’s lovely, dear,” Glenda says, words dripping with sarcasm. “Schedule a trim in the morning.”
“No. Not a trim. I’m thinking like chopping it. Like here.” I clip my hair between my fingers to show them what I’m thinking. “That’s what? About eight inches? Ten?”
It would bring my hair up to almost my shoulders.
“That’s a lot, dear,” Glenda says, trying not to cringe. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m ready for the change. It’ll be good for me.”
“If you’re sure, I have my scissors in my car,” Anna says, leaning forward at the other end of the couch. “Sorry, that sounded weird. I do hair. I could do it now if you want.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Let me get them.” She hops up and heads for the door. “While I do that, will someone grab a stool from the kitchen and maybe a towel?”
Via slowly turns her head in my direction, eyes wide. “Are you sure about this? ”
“It’s just hair. If I hate it, oh well. It’ll grow.”
Twenty minutes later I’m a whole lot of hair lighter, and Lucy is passing me a hand mirror so I can check Anna’s handiwork. The wavy strands are about an inch past my shoulders. Exactly where I wanted them.
“It’s perfect, Anna. Thank you.” I slide off the stool and take the dustpan and broom from Lucy before she can sweep up the mess. “I’ve got it.”
When the floor is clean and the food is put away, we depart for the night with a chorus of goodbyes.
As nosy and meddling as these women can be, it’s life-affirming, knowing they’re in my corner. These women would do anything for one another, and they’ve brought me into the fold. These kinds of friendships are hard to come by, no matter where a person lives.
“What do you think Derrick is going to say about your hair?” Via asks me as I navigate toward her apartment.
“I’m not sure,” I answer with the shrug of one shoulder. “I didn’t think about what his opinion might be. I did it for myself.”
With a hum, she squeezes my arm. “Good. Never do anything because of or for a man.”
“Never,” I agree as I pull down the alley.
Reid’s older model Mustang is already there, parked behind Via’s car.
“Thanks for today.” She undoes her seat belt. “And thanks for your help with telling the whole town that we’re looking for a house. I’m sure the gossip mill is already doing its thing.”
A laugh works its way out of me as I take in the building. “They’re already planning my wedding, so we’re even.”
Before she can even get out of the car, Reid, wearing a grin, is opening the door to Via’s upstairs apartment .
“Go get your man,” I tell her.
“I will.” With a wink, she closes the car door and all but skips up the stairs to him, where he pulls her into his arms and angles in for a kiss.
They’re so in love it would be sickening if I wasn’t also head-over-heels for a man.
Via turns and waves as I back down the alley, and behind her, Reid lifts a hand while whispering in her ear. By the way she swats at his chest, I can guarantee his words were naughty.
They’re so insufferably cute.
At the gas station near the house, I run inside for slushies. I could curse Derrick for introducing me to my newest addiction. Anymore, I crave these more than coffee or matcha.
“Where’s your better half?” Greg teases when I set the cups down to pay.
“At home. Probably asleep on the couch.”
With a chuckle, he rings up the slushies.
“You’ve been good for him,” he says as he takes the cash I hold out, the statement shocking me. “Derrick’s always been a great guy, but he was more closed off before you came along. Now, he smiles all the time. You make him happy.”
The compliment makes my heart stumble a little. It means more to me than he’ll ever know.
“Thank you.” I tuck my change away, fighting a blush. “He makes me happy, too.”
Slushies in hand, I climb into my car and head home. As I pull into the driveway, I can’t help but think about how much I don’t want to get my own place. It’s crazy. We haven’t been together long at all, but the idea of not going to bed curled around him or waking up at his side makes me feel a little ill.
On the way to the porch, I take in the street and the yard, marveling at the leaves already beginning to fall in beautiful shades of red and orange. Before I can reach the door, it opens, and Derrick appears in the glow of the porch light, Wonton under his arm.
The surge of love that flows through me is downright frightening. How is it possible to feel so much for another human being?
His smile morphs into an open-mouthed look of surprise. “Your hair. You cut it.”
“I did.” I shake my head, causing my hair to sway. “What do you think?”
With a step in my direction, he cups the back of my neck. Then he drags his fingers higher and laces them in my hair, scraping the strands into a ponytail.
“Still enough to grab,” he says with a smirk. “I love it.”
“Enough to grab, huh? What if I shaved it all off?”
With his forehead pressed to mine, he says, “It’s your hair. You can do what you want with it. I’ll love you no matter what, but I do love to run my hands through it.” He strokes the strands. “It’s always so soft.”
“I use a special rinse. You gonna let me in now?”
“Right.” He releases my hair and takes the Coke slushie from me. “You couldn’t drive by the gas station without stopping, could you?”
“You would have stopped too if you’d been dealing with Glenda all evening.”
His laughter rumbles through me when I pass him and step inside. He locks the door behind him, then sets Wonton on the floor. My furry little buddy immediately scurries over to me, jumping up and down on his hind legs for attention.
Squatting, I shower my best friend in pets and kisses. There’s nothing like the genuine, pure love of an animal .
When he’s settled, I stand and slide off my shoes. “How’d it go with Reid and Layla?”
Derrick stuffs his free hand into his pocket and rocks back. “Surprisingly well, I thought they might not want to see this house go. Instead, they seemed almost relieved to see me moving on.”
I close the distance between us. “They just want you to be happy.”
“I know.” His warm hand slides around my waist. “I missed you.”
I melt into him. The words are simple but so powerful. There’s something to be said about finding one’s person. About that special ache that hits when they aren’t near. It’s not as though I can’t be away from him. In fact, I needed a day with my sister. But I feel better when he’s around. It’s like before him, I wasn’t whole. And I didn’t even realize it. Now, though, when we’re apart, I notice the absence of that piece of me.
“I missed you, too.”
“Should I put some popcorn in the microwave? We could watch a few episodes of Gilmore Girls .”
I take a sip of my slushie, brightening. “And put on face masks?”
He sighs like it’s a hardship, but he does a terrible job at hiding the way his lips turn up on one side. “I guess so.”
“All right, get that going, and I’ll wash my face and grab the mask.”
After I come back down, my face already slathered up, Derrick places the bowl on the table and sits on the couch so I can apply the mask.
“It’s cold.” He flinches away.
“No, it’s not. You’re such a baby. ”
He harrumphs. “I promise you, it’s cold.”
I hold my hand an inch from his face, the green mask thick on my fingers. “I just put it on my face. I can promise you it wasn’t cold. Even if it was, it’s worth it. You can’t tell me your pores don’t look better.”
The sigh he gives is nothing less than dramatic, but he lowers his shoulders and doesn’t complain again as I finish applying the mask.
I wash my hands in the kitchen sink, and when I return, he’s got the show cued up. We’re on season five since we’ve worked to slow the rate we’ve been burning through episodes. Though I’ve been through the entire series several times, I still want to make it last. He doesn’t know it, but we’re watching New Girl next.
Derrick settles back on the couch, puts the popcorn bowl in his lap, and holds an arm out, motioning for me to join him.
I curl myself into his side and soak up the heat radiating from his bare torso.
Wonton, not one to be left out, and a voracious lover of popcorn, is quick to jump up and circle several times before plopping down behind my bent knees.
Unable to resist his cuteness, I hold a piece of popcorn out for him. His little pink tongue shoots out and takes it, making me giggle.
Chuckling, Derrick squeezes me against his side. “You spoil him.”
I roll my eyes. “And you don’t? I’ve seen you sneaking him cheese, so don’t try to play innocent.”
“Look at that face.” He nods at Wonton, who sits with his tongue hanging out, eager for another piece. “How can I say no?”
“But I’m supposed to? ”
“I see your point.” He grabs a piece and holds it out to him. Then he points the remote at the TV and starts the show.
By the time the episode ends, I’m fighting sleep.
Derrick presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Let’s go to bed.”
“I’m fine. Let’s watch one more episode.” There was a chance I could convince him up until a yawn escaped me along with the last word.
With a shake of his head, he turns the TV off. “No, bedtime.”
Groaning, I climb off the couch, then head for the kitchen, with Wonton hot on my heels, eager to be let out the back door.
Derrick dumps the remnants of the popcorn in the trash, then gives it a quick wash and sets it on the drying pad beside the sink.
“Hurry, Wonton,” I call out when he spends a little too much time sniffing one particular spot.
He turns to look at me, his expression disgruntled, as if he’s saying I’ll go when I’m good and ready.
Once he finds a spot that he deems worthy, he does his business and runs back into the house.
As I lock the door, Derrick steps in close so his front is pressed to my back, then wraps his arms around me.
“You’re going to help me, right?” he asks softly, resting his chin on top of my head.
“With what?” I relax into his hold, all tension escaping me when he’s close like this.
“Building the house. Picking out floors and cabinets and paint. All of it. I want you to put your touch on it.”
I close my eyes and imagine the paint colors I’d want, my dream kitchen, wallpaper, all the little details .
“Are you sure you want my help?” He’s had that land for years, and for as permanent as our connection feels, it’s still new. A whole house is a huge commitment.
“Yes.” There’s no hesitation. “It’s going to be your house, too.”
“Hmm. You think so?”
He smiles, the weight of his chin changing against the top of my head. “I know so, baby.”
He takes my hand and drags me upstairs to his room—our room, I suppose, since I’ve taken over, my shirt strewn over the back of the chair, shoes shoved in the corner.
In the bathroom, he turns the water on and dampens a cloth. Then he carefully wipes my face free of the mask. I do the same to him, making sure there are no green remnants left behind.
Once we’ve brushed our teeth, standing side by side at the sink, we finally crawl into bed with Wonton.
“Get over here,” he grouses, hooking an arm around me and pulling me over to meet him in the middle of the bed. “That’s better.”
It’s always better when he’s holding me.