Chapter 15 Larissa
LARISSA
I held up the bikini I was packing for the cabin. “What do you think?”
Mom tapped her pack of Newports on her wrist. “Cute. Mike’s gonna like that.” She put a cigarette between her lips. “When you coming back?”
“Sunday night,” I said, holding the suit against my body. “I found it at a thrift store. It still had the tag on it.”
I was so looking forward to this trip.
I wouldn’t be able to work any of my side jobs while I was gone, but that was sort of the point. I needed the break. I needed someone to whisk me off to a place where it was impossible to do anything but relax and sleep and have a good time.
I felt like I was on a hamster wheel. I ran and I ran and I ran and I never got anywhere and I felt guilty when I wasn’t running, when I had a free moment of my day that wasn’t dedicated to productivity. And I was exhausted.
I’d been exhausted for so long, I didn’t even know anything else.
Mom coughed. “I might have Phil over while you’re gone,” she said, standing in her spot in the sliding glass door. She blew smoke out toward the decaying pool chairs. “You know, he asked me to live together last week.”
I jerked to look at her. “Ew. Here??”
She shrugged. “Why not? The three of us could split the rent three ways. It’d be cheap—”
“I don’t want to live with Phil,” I said, horrified. “I don’t even want him to come over.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay, fine. It’s not like I said yes.” She turned to a noise in the alley. “Hi, Delta!” Mom called, waving. The man was shuffling behind our apartment, pushing his shopping cart.
“Tell him to wait,” I said, turning for the kitchen.
I handed a snackle box to Mom and she walked it out to him in her house slippers. He gave her a grateful gapped smile and waved at me before he moved off.
“He’s so sweet,” Mom said, stubbing out her cigarette and spritzing herself. “So what’s this cabin like?”
I smiled. “Mike showed me pictures. It’s huge, on a lake. It looks like a ski chalet, stone and wooden logs and a big fireplace. There’s a pontoon and Jet Skis.”
“And Chris is driving you?”
I nodded, folding shorts down into my bag. “Yeah, Mike went up early to fix some stuff.”
“When’s he picking you up?”
I looked at my watch. “Twenty minutes?”
“Be nice to hang out with Mike, right? He hasn’t come over much.”
No, he hadn’t. Actually, he hadn’t come over at all since the night he fixed the sink almost a month ago. He’d been working a lot, picking up shifts for Tony. I saw Chris more than I saw my actual boyfriend these days.
Speaking of Chris, my phone vibrated with a message from him.
I read the text and slapped a hand over my mouth. “Oh my God…”
“What?” Mom said, eyeing me.
I was dying. “I think I’m going to wait for you to see it yourself.”