Chapter 5 #2
“What a shame you won’t date him. At least take him for a ride and be friends with benefits or something. Let me live through you, Lottie! Have fun.”
She can’t see it, but I can’t help but roll my eyes at my sister. “You’re way too worried about what I’m doing. I’m having plenty of fun without having to make things weird with my best friend, thank you very much.”
Hailey groans. “Are you at least getting laid by someone else?”
There’s a loud thumping noise. “Ow!” Hailey yells. “Mom, did you just hit me?”
“You can’t ask your sister if she’s getting laid.”
“I always ask my sister if she’s getting laid. I want to know the details. My sex life is planned and once a month on the calendar. Let me ask questions about all the fun my hot, single, younger sister is having.”
Mom lets out an audible gasp.
My nose scrunches. “I don’t need to know that, Hailey.” I dodge her question about my sex life because my sister is still having more sex than I am, but she doesn’t need to know that.
To be honest, I can’t even remember the last time I had any kind of action that wasn’t from one of my toys. I’ve been too busy with work and spending my free time with Jude to meet someone and get involved with them.
“How’s Lucy doing? Or Camille? I can’t believe she’s now the publicist for Scarlett Astor. I loved her new movie. The one where everyone thinks she’s dating that cute co-star.”
I smile at my mom’s change of subject. Our phone calls often consist of me giving the rundown on my friends’ lives so she won’t ask me about my own.
One perk of moving out to the Hamptons last summer is the people I’ve met and become close with.
Mom loves to hear all of the gossip when it comes to the members at Pembroke Hills, and I love giving it to her.
Any conversation about someone else prevents her from prying into my life.
Plus, I like to remind her that if I moved back to Arizona and left the Hamptons, I wouldn’t have as much gossip.
“They’re great. Lucy’s busy preparing for the wedding at the end of the summer, and Camille is keeping busy with her new firm and wedding planning of her own.”
“Lucy emailed me over some recipes last week. I got them before she posted them online,” Mom says smugly. I can picture her smiling and lifting her chin, proud that she’s getting something before the rest of the world.
I smile because with how busy Lucy is, it was thoughtful of her to make time to send things over to my mom and make her feel special. “I love that for you, Mom.”
“I want the recipes,” Hailey chimes in.
“You can find them on her page or website when she posts them.”
Hailey gasps, and I can’t help but laugh. As much as I love it here in the Hamptons and don’t want to leave, moments like this remind me how much I miss my family and wish I were there with them.
“How’s your friend with the cute little girl?”
I smile, thinking of Margo. “Margo’s great, and Celeste is cute as ever. I’m so excited for them to be here for the summer. I’ll be talking Margo into letting me have a girls’ night with Celeste.”
“Don’t let your nieces hear that,” Hailey pipes up. “They’ve been asking when you’re coming home to visit.”
“Hopefully soon,” I respond, giving the generic answer I always give.
I know I need to get back there; it’s just hard scheduling it.
But I miss them all like crazy, so once I figure out where I’m living for the summer and I get more into a routine with the bev cart job, I’ll find a time to get back to Arizona for a few days.
“You better. Lottie, I love you, but I’ve got to get going. I just wanted to prove Mom right and show that you were out having fun, but instead, you’ve let me down by being lame. Get out there and have fun, wild sex. Love you!”
“Don’t listen to your sister,” Mom immediately speaks up.
I can imagine her aiming a stern look in Hailey’s direction.
I’m sure they’re sitting in the kitchen of my childhood home, Mom sitting in her chair as Hailey circles the space, trying to round up her children.
All of my siblings live within fifteen minutes of home.
They’re at the house constantly, and it’s hard not to feel a little left out of the family dynamic with how much time they spend together.
I don’t let it get to me too much. I chose to come out here.
Missing out on the everyday family antics is something I signed up for.
“I promise I’m in for the night,” I assure my mom.
The words make me sad. The last thing I want to be is alone tonight after the news I just got, but I also don’t know what to do.
I look across my kitchen at an old bottle of wine that sits on my counter.
I haven’t opened it because I don’t think it’s one that I like, but maybe I’ll still pop it open tonight to help drown my sorrows about not having a place to live come next week.
“I love you, Lottie,” Mom says, breaking me from my thoughts. “We’ll talk again soon. Don’t forget it isn’t me who has to call you. The phone works both ways.”
I nod. I probably should be better about being the one to call her. “I love you too, Mom. Tell everyone I love them.”
“Good night, honey.”
“Night.” I hang up the phone, a sudden lump forming in my throat.
I think I’m just more emotional than normal because of the day that I had, but right now, I wish nothing more than to be closer to my family.
I wish I could drive to my childhood home and get a hug from my mom.
But I can’t. I chose to move away, and I don’t regret the choice.
I want to be here. I just miss them. I know if I told my mom about losing the apartment, she might be able to give me advice about what to do, but I can’t tell her.
I don’t want her to think I’m not able to handle things by myself out here.
Plus, all my other siblings have their lives so perfectly planned out.
They’ve got it all together. Good jobs. Families.
Houses. Kids. And then there’s me—the daughter who moved across the country and doesn’t use her degree or have any kind of serious relationship.
While I’m happy with where I’m at in life—despite the current hiccup of finding where to live—I can’t help but wonder sometimes if my parents think I’m a failure compared to my siblings.
It’s always been hard being so much younger than them.
Because of the age difference, they’ve always been ten steps ahead of me in life.
I used to blame my age on it and hoped my parents realized that too.
But now at twenty-four, it’s hard not to wonder if my parents wish I were doing more with my life than what I am.
I shake my head.
I can’t think like that.
I know my parents—my entire family—is proud of me.
I left the only life I’ve ever known to come out here and chase a dream.
And while actually getting to the part where I could open a photography business out here seems still so far away, I’ve found a good job that allows me to save money.
I’ve found my own family of friends out here.
And I’ll figure out my living situation too.
I’m doing it all on my own, and I’m proud of myself for it.
But that doesn’t mean that the thought of finding a new place to live doesn’t stress me out.
I stare at the bottle. Opening it up and polishing off a bottle of wine alone doesn’t seem like the worst idea.
But talking to my family, hearing them together, makes being alone the last thing I want to be right now.
If only I knew what Jude was doing.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m grabbing the bottle of wine from my counter and walking back out to my car.
I get so lost in thought, trying to brainstorm places I could look for somewhere to live, that one moment, I’m at my apartment, and the next, I’ve made it to Jude’s.
Showing up at Jude’s unannounced at night probably isn’t my best idea, but I just really didn’t want to be alone, and it seemed like a good idea to spend time with him.
He’s always there for me when I need him, and tonight’s a night I just need my friend.
He’s smart and levelheaded—most of the time—maybe he can help give me some insight on my next steps.
At the very least, he can make me not feel pathetic by drinking with me instead of making me drown out my sorrows alone.
I don’t know if he’s even home, but it doesn’t stop me from pulling into his driveway to find out.
The gates are open, making me pause for a moment, wondering if maybe he has company.
Typically, I have to type in his code to pull in, but not tonight.
I’m wondering if it’s open because somebody’s already there.
I slowly pull up the driveway, telling myself that I’ll turn around and pretend I was never here if he has someone inside. I don’t want to bother him if he’s on a date or busy, but if he’s alone, I’m hoping he won’t mind me inviting myself over.
I let out a small sigh of relief when I don’t see any cars besides his in the driveway. The lights in the house look like they’re on, and that’s all the invitation I need to park my car and grab the bottle of wine from my passenger seat.
I’m walking to his doorstep when my steps falter for a moment.
I’m suddenly feeling self-conscious. I didn’t give myself the time to think about showing up at his house without telling him first.
Maybe I should rethink this. Jude and I hang out all the time—I spend more time with him than I spend with anyone else—and he often shows up at my house unannounced, but I don’t typically show up at his house without texting him first. It’s mostly because I never know when he’s in meetings and working or not, but now I’m second-guessing if he’ll be annoyed by me showing up without any kind of warning.
Just because there isn’t anyone parked in the driveway doesn’t necessarily mean he’s alone.
After golfing with Tyson, he hung out at Pembroke.
I’ve seen him flirt with many members and guests throughout our friendship but have never actually seen him take any of them home.
That isn’t to say he doesn’t do that though.
He’s Jude Kensington. Of course he brings women home.
I just somehow have never witnessed it. I wouldn’t be shocked if he found someone at the club to bring home and spend time with.
I stop at the doorway, my eyes dancing along his front lawn, which is bathed in the brilliant orange of the setting sun.
“This might be a bad idea,” I whisper to myself.
Maybe I shouldn’t come here unannounced.
Maybe I can give him a call instead. The panic of finding a new place to live for the summer made me have a momentary lapse in judgment.
I wanted someone logical like Jude to tell me it’ll be okay and I’ll figure it out, but now that I’m here, I’m wondering if I should’ve given him a warning before coming to him for comfort.
“Back home alone we go,” I mutter under my breath. I’m taking a step back toward my car when Jude’s front door swings open.