Chapter 19
19
Lucy
“Ohmigod?! I can’t believe that happened!”
I nod, my attention on adjusting the height to the softbox reflector to angle it toward the stark white backdrop while Elaine places the last of the camera lenses neatly organized on a foldable table and rushes to my side. “Yeah, it was pretty awful.”
“So where are you staying?”
“A friend’s,” I answer meekly. “He, um, offered his spare room, so…” I just finished telling her the whirlwind of the weekend I had while she got lost on an impromptu trip to Washington Square Park.
“I can’t believe you went through all of that,” she sort of mumbles under her breath. She turns to face me. “You must have been so scared.”
“Um, yeah…” I look up at her with a smile through the tightness lodged in my throat.
I’ve been trying to retrace the last forty-eight hours. The highs and lows. The expected and unexpected. The absolute last thing I thought I’d add on the list was “move in with Dexter.” I would’ve expected a trip to the moon before that happened. Everything feels so…chaotic. Just when I caught a whiff—a minute resemblance—of decorum in my life, I feel like it’s been snatched away from me.
How did I end up here ? Robbed of my valuables, essentially homeless, and shacking up with an old…fling. Maybe I should just call my sisters. Maybe they’ll be able to replace some of the calm that’s gone wayward. But every time I even think about picking up my phone to call them or even taking a cab over to their apartments, my insides feel like they’re going to flip inside out and teeny-tiny bubbles of anxiety start to pop inside of me. And now I’m reeling from this completely random and unwarranted attraction I have toward Dexter. I mean, I guess it’s not completely unwarranted, considering we have history, but why did a spike of unease spear through my stomach when I thought he was talking to some girl yesterday? And why did it feel like a complete burst of relief when he told me it was his sister?
“You know, this shit wouldn’t have happened in San Diego,” Elaine fusses, jutting her index finger at me as she walks back to the table. “I can’t wait for this to be over so I can go home. I miss the damn beach. And my car. Also, I think I sat in pee this morning on the subway.”
I grimace just as my phone buzzes in my back pocket. When I look at the screen, I see a new message from Dexter. An image of him, his now empty Starbucks cup held up to his face, and a bright, cheesy smile fills the screen.
Dexter: I think I can outrun a cheetah with the amount of caffeine running through me.
My wide grin matches his, and my insides melt a little. Okay, a lot.
I feel like I’m seeing his face in a completely new light, finding more things that make him cute and handsome and quite honestly, irresistible. Like the shadow from his Adam’s apple somehow making him look masculine and strong. Or the way one eye squints more than the other, and it makes him look playful and flirty. And, of course, there’s that little mole next to his eye that shifts into the small crinkles fanning out through his adorable smiles. I’ve been adding to the mental list of things I’ve started to find attractive in men. Bare feet, teeny-tiny moles, and now, Adam’s apples. Or maybe it’s just those things on Dexter that I find attractive.
Me: I’ll pick up a cheetah on the way home if you make sure to buy a stopwatch.
Dexter: And a checkered flag.
Me: Can’t forget the checkered flag.
Home. Home with Dexter.
I didn’t realize it when I typed out the single four-letter word, but there’s so much weight to it. All of it filled with promise and comfort. I could get used to this. This feeling of security and something safe and easy.
In just two days, I’ve learned what it’s like to coexist with someone. It isn’t like this with Annabelle. We have our own lives, and we do our own things. Annabelle goes out for drinks after work with her lawyer friends. She spends two evenings a week with Alma at their uncle’s house, where she brings back large Tupperware containers full of pupusas . I usually go to bed by ten after dozing on the couch for about an hour so I can wake up to start my early morning shift at Mr. Bean’s.
But it’s not like that with Dexter. He includes me in something as simple as doing the dishes or deciding how many episodes of Supernatural we can squeeze in before bedtime. He waited for me in the morning before walking out the door so we could leave together, and something tells me he’s going to do the same tomorrow morning. I could get used to this, having someone to coexist with. Someone who would wait for me to make plans for the night. To split a sausage pizza or a large order of pad thai with.
No. I can’t get used to this. Because this is absolutely temporary. Those dark, imaginary red lines I’ve been drawing through each passing week have been a comforting reminder that my flight back home is going to happen much sooner than later. I can’t wait to go home. My actual home. I can’t wait to snuggle up with Jeremy and tell Annabelle how delusional she was with her screwball suggestions to hook up with Dexter again. At the end of all this, I’ll hop on my flight without even a second glance. Just like I planned.
Dexter: Can’t wait. I’ll see you at home, Lucy.
And there go those red lines, drawn with a lighter hand and reluctance. Maybe one last glance before I leave. One last look back to see what I’m leaving behind. Just so I can see Dexter waving at me from the steps of his apartment building.
“Lucy?”
I look up to see Ryan hovering over the table Elaine was organizing, his expectant face eyeing the setup I was doing for today’s shoot.
“Kyle wanted to go over the pictures from the shoot on Saturday. The ones he asked you to have ready.”
I trip over a tripod leg, stumbling toward my tote bag. Ryan swoops toward me when my step hobbles a little before I catch my feet and stand upright. “Sorry,” I say sheepishly. “I’m ready. Let me just grab my laptop.”
I follow Ryan to where Kyle is stationed at a long six-feet foldable table. Sweat starts gathering in my armpits and under-boob region, making my bra chafe against my skin. Kyle doesn’t look up when we approach him, and Ryan waits a beat before interrupting him.
“Kyle, you wanted to see Lucy? ”
He nods, his gaze focused on the tablet screen in front of him. “Did you edit the pictures?” he asks, addressing me.
Ryan steps aside, and I open Dexter’s laptop before setting it in front of Kyle. “I worked with a few different contrasts and exposures. For this one…” I pause, clicking open a picture of Seb leaned against the brick wall with half of his body glistening in sunlight and the other half hidden in the shade. “I used a more vintage style editing process and focused on bluish hues to contrast with his clothes.”
He murmurs an acknowledging hum.
“And for this one,” I add, clicking another picture of Seb leaned forward, the shade now covering his entire body with the light reflecting off the wall behind him, “I used a higher contrast to counteract the shaded area. I just thought it would make Seb pop a bit when he’s surrounded by so many shadows.”
Kyle hums again, turning the laptop screen so that it faces him fully. It forces me to relinquish control to him as his fingers skate across the flat mousepad. I stand there awkwardly, twiddling my fingers in front of me while attempting to read Kyle’s facial expression. Is that furrow between his brows a good thing? Or is the way he just sighed through his nose a sign of disappointment?
“Okay,” he finally says, looking up at me while gently pushing the laptop back in my direction. “Send those over to Ryan. He’s going to send them to the rest of the project team, and we’ll go over them before having the brand manager take a look.”
I hold back the eager spring in my feet, refraining from hopping up and down. Hoping I don’t look as impatient as I feel, I nod before turning to walk away.
“And Lucy,” he calls. I turn to face him, suddenly scared he’s going to change his mind. But he doesn’t, and the constant trickle of letdowns and setbacks I’ve faced in the last month seems to fade away. “Good work.”
“Oh! They have a chocolate peanut butter cupcake today!”
Elaine and I both light up in front of the bright display case carrying various flavors of cupcakes in front of us.
“Ohmigod, and a strawberry shortcake too.”
It’s our lunch break, and Elaine suggested we celebrate my little serendipitous milestone with a return trip to our new favorite dessert place while she claimed it wasn’t serendipitous at all. That it was a result of my hard work and talent. We make our selections and head back toward the studio while I clutch my strawberry shortcake cupcake with a graham cracker crust and walk with a practical skip in my step.
As we approach the building, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I impulsively assume it’s Dexter as we’ve been texting each other back and forth, with his last message before my break congratulating me on my most recent praise from Kyle. But when I look at my phone, I see Nat’s name flash across the screen.
“Uh, why don’t you go on up? I need to take this,” I tell Elaine.
“Okay.” She nods and presses the button to call the elevator.
“Hey, Nat.”
“Hey! Are you busy?” she asks, her voice sounding distracted and echoey.
“Uh, I have a minute.”
“Sorry, I have to put you on speaker,” she explains. “I was in between meetings after lunch, and I just needed to talk to you before I forget.”
“Okay. What’s up? ”
“So, I’m going back home in a few weeks. Mom wants to go wedding dress shopping.”
I smile. “I called it.”
“Yeah.” She laughs. “We’re going to finalize reservations and rooms for the hotel while I’m there. I was thinking you can stay in my room with me for the first few nights before the wedding.”
“You aren’t staying with Hayden?”
“We can’t see each other on the wedding day!” she argues in a teasing voice. “It’s bad luck.”
“Okay,” I respond through a laugh.
“Oh! I also wanted to try something fun while we’re in Hawaii. Maybe snorkeling. Or ziplining!”
“You? Ziplining?”
She huffs. “Yes,” she answers, a little annoyed. “Why?”
“Have you forgotten your debilitating fear of heights?” I tease.
“I’m trying to face my fears,” she explains. “Plus, it’ll be fun.”
I chuckle.
“So I’ve been back and forth with Rita, and we decided about two months out?—”
“Who’s Rita?”
She exhales an exasperated sigh. “Hayden’s aunt. Remember? I told you about her when we were talking about the reception? We’re doing a garden style party. Twinkle lights and all.”
“Right. Sorry,” I tell her, remembering the last conversation we had where she word vomited everything she could about the wedding via a ninety-second phone call before she hopped into a crowded subway train.
“Anyway, we’re keeping it small and intimate. Just a few family members who are willing to fly out, like Aunt Carlita and Jaqueline,” she explains, referring to my dad’s sister and our cousin. “And, of course, Mom and Dad and Hayden’s mom, plus a few of Hayden’s college friends like Dexter. ”
Dexter.
“Oh.”
“So I’ll go ahead and send you the link for the hotel and wedding dates so you know exactly when to book your flights,” she continues. “Unless you want me to book yours too. You’ll fly out of Seattle International, right?”
“Uh…” I hesitate, reminding myself I’m supposed to be in a completely different time zone right now. “It’s fine. I can book my own flight.”
“Are you sure? I can send you the money for it then.”
I cringe. “Yes, I’m sure, Nat,” I assure her.
“Really? I really don’t mind helping you out. Those plane tickets can get pretty pricey.”
“Nat—”
“Lucy,” she interrupts. “I’m not trying to be overbearing or anything. Mom’s doing enough of that, but I don’t want to add to your stress. And I swear I’m not complaining. It’s just…”
“What?”
She sighs. “Mom mentioned that…she wants you to move back home.”
I groan. “Seriously?”
“She was just throwing it out there, but I think she’s just as frustrated as you are about having so much trouble finding a job. And with the internship you mentioned?—”
“I should’ve never brought that up,” I say, cutting her off. A swirl of emotions starts to stir inside of me. I don’t know whether to be upset or sad or just outright annoyed. “You know, she wasn’t like this. She used to let us spread our wings and all that shit.”
“I know. She’s worried about you.”
“I must bring it out of her,” I huff. “Nat, I’m sorry you got caught up in all of this but seriously, I’m fine.”
She stays quiet, and I wonder if she’s shifted completely from being on my side to Team Mom. Maybe while she’s telling me all of this as gently as possible, a part of her agrees with my mom. I just hope they don’t stage some kind of intervention or something. “I’ll talk to her when I see her,” she finally says. “Maybe I can buy you some time before she flies over there and starts packing up your things.”
“Oh god,” I grumble. “I will seriously set up a barricade if she does that.”
Nat laughs. “There was also another thing I wanted to ask you.”
“Yeah?”
“I was wondering if you’d be my maid of honor. I mean, both you and Carmen would be my maid of honor, so I don’t want to officially assign titles. That doesn’t feel right. It would be just you two. And since Hayden has Dexter and one of his other college buddies, it works out perfectly.”
The tension wrapped around my temple from Nat’s mention of my mom’s suggestion to move me back home has dissolved into pure joy. “Really?”
“Of course, really . I can’t get married without my sisters up there. And I’ll pay for everything. Your dress, your shoes. All?—”
“Nat,” I interrupt her. “I can pay for all of that.”
“I really don’t mind,” she assures.
“No, Nat. I’m going to pay for my bridesmaid stuff. And I’m going to stand up there right next to you and hand you tissues and hold your bouquet.” I pause before adding, “You just let me know whatever you need, and I’ll be your little maid of honor minion.”
She laughs. “Maybe you can help me find a dress both you and Carmen like once we decide on a color scheme. Nothing fancy, just something simple and classy.”
“Yeah, anything you want.”
“I gotta go,” she says quickly. “I got a meeting I have to step into, and I’m meeting Hayden for his suit fitting before he needs to be back at the restaurant.”
“Yeah, I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye!”