Chapter 7
Chapter seven
Ruth
Istayed up until midnight talking to Everett on the phone.
We covered everything from potatoes to aliens, and I don’t know what it was—that boyish smile, the effortless charm, the southern drawl—but something had me hanging on to absolutely every word.
Something in my heart, mind, body, soul—it wants me to know Everett Tanner.
Either way, I’m tired this morning. I dragged myself out of bed and chugged a cup of coffee before I even showered, and I’m already desperate for another hit of caffeine.
I whirl around and point the key fob at my car, clicking the button furiously to make sure it’s definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent locked before I walk away and leave it in the car park.
It’s a habit I’ve got myself into—locking and re-locking the car about a million and one times—no matter how many times I try to stay chill and just hit the button once.
Once I’m satisfied that the car is definitely secure, I weave my way between a myriad of poorly-parked vehicles until I reach a pair of wooden doors, and I push my way through them just in time to see a streak of red dart into one of the lifts.
I take three large strides, determined to catch up.
“Roo!”
Paloma and Amie are already in the lift. I slip through the doors just as they begin to slide closed, and greet two of my best friends with big bear hugs.
“Hey, Sweet Thing,” I say into Amie’s hair as I wrap my arms around her. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, babe,” she says wistfully. “Summer flying schedule got me working like crazy already, and it’s barely April.”
“You’re dropping your hours though, right?” Paloma asks. She slaps at Amie as the doors slide open again, and as Amie releases me, Paloma pulls me into a walking hug.
“Yeah. I’ll be working two weeks on and two off, instead of three on and one off,” Amie explains.
“And I’ll have days off between flights in those two weeks, too.
Cam is doing the same, and we’ll overlap by a week.
So in theory, we each get a week alone with Maisy, a week with the three of us together, and we’ll only need to figure out childcare for her for one week each month.
And I’ll probably be home for some of that, between flights, anyway. ”
“Oh, that’s amazing, A,” I say, bumping her with my shoulder. Not that I’ve ever minded helping out with Maisy. I adore that little girl, and I’ll take care of her any time. But I know how much it breaks Amie’s heart to leave her.
“Yeah, it’ll be nice. We’ll get our time alone with her, as well as together… an easier transition, you know?”
“And you’re okay with that?” Paloma says with a teasing smile, her tongue between her teeth. “Baby girl’s all grown up!”
Amie rolls her eyes as Paloma continues.
“Remember when you wouldn’t even leave Maisy with Suze, even for ten minutes, at first? God forbid you’d leave her with one of us for half an hour.”
“Excuse me, have you met you?” Amie whirls around to face Paloma, walking backwards with a grin on her face.
“I happen to think I’m quite brill, actually,” Paloma rebuts, flipping her red hair over her shoulder. “Besides. Maisy loves me.”
“She loves all of you. And Cam. The only one she’s a little madam for is me, apparently.”
“Didn’t Suze say that’s normal, though?” I ask. I hear more concern in my voice than I want to. The idea of something being wrong—anything not being perfect for the friends who are more like my family—gives me stomach ache.
“Yeah, she did. It is, I guess. And you know, her having that alone time with Cam… he’s her dad. This will be good for them. Both of them.”
We stop walking when we reach our usual meeting point. There’s only one person missing, and that’s—
“Katy!” Paloma squeals suddenly, and a blonde blur appears momentarily before becoming engulfed in Paloma’s emerald green cape-like dress.
Once Katy escapes, she steps over to wrap me in a hug.
She gives the best hugs, and I find myself hanging on for as long as I can, until Amie starts slapping at my arm impatiently.
The four of us haven’t spent more than an hour or two together for a while.
I’ve been working and travelling, Amie has been flying.
Katy has been working extra shifts at the supermarket, and Paloma has been busier than ever.
This shopping trip has been in the diary for a few weeks now, and I know for a fact we’ve all been counting down to it, desperate for some much-needed girl time.
“How are you, love? How’s Maisy?” Katy asks.
“I love my daughter, but holy fuck, I am so glad to be away from her today,” Amie complains with a dry laugh. “She has been testing my patience for the last two days, and I’m about to put her in the bin.”
“Good job she’s cute.” The four of us fall into step together, Paloma’s arms around Amie’s and Katy’s shoulders and mine around Katy’s waist.
The conversation continues for a moment, and I zone out, looking around at the fluorescent lights in the mall, until Katy steers us left and says, “Come on, I need new notebooks and pens.”
“Like a fucking hole in the head,” I mutter, just loud enough for everyone to hear, and Paloma barks out a laugh.
“It’s for college,” Katy insists haughtily.
She surprised all of us recently with the news that she’d got into the London College of Psychology with a late application, and would be studying on a short counselling course.
I’m surprised it’s something she hasn’t done before, to be honest. She has a degree that she’s never really used, and she’s always been a people person.
She has the biggest, most loving heart of anyone I know.
“I still can’t believe you’re doing it,” I say. “I’m proud of you, Sweet Thing.”
“Thanks, Roo.” She reaches for my hand and squeezes it. There’s a nagging feeling in my belly that says there’s something Katy isn’t saying, but I know Katy Keller. Whatever it is, she’ll say it when she’s ready.
We walk through the open door of a stationery shop and immediately make a beeline for a display of pink pens and accessories.
“Look, K, this one is so cute!” Paloma squeals, waving a notebook in the air.
It has a pink cover illustrated with all the stereotypical cowboy things: hats, horseshoes, cacti, ropes tied in lassos…
it’s cute, and it’s very Katy, and it only serves to make me think of Everett.
I wander down to the other end of the shelves.
Katy smiles, plucking a pen from a display pot and waving it back at Paloma.
“It’s perfect!” Amie calls out from the other side of the display. “There’s a pencil case, too!”
Armed with a stack of sticky notes, highlighters, and cowboy hat paperclips—all pink, of course—I stroll back to my friends, who are still waving cowboy-themed items at each other.
“Anyone would think you had a cowboy fetish,” I say with a giggle as I deposit my armful of goodies into the basket hung over Katy’s wrist.
“Maybe I do,” she says with a salacious wink. “Give me a cowboy with an ass like a peach…”
“You know what they say,” Paloma says with a shrug and a saucy wink.
“What?” Amie asks, blinking innocently. “Something about riding horses?”
Paloma rolls her eyes and Amie cackles, poking her tongue out as she grabs a dinosaur-themed notebook and pencil set.
Presumably, they’re for Maisy, although they’re both cute as hell, and a little part of me is tempted to inject a tiny spark of brightness into my job with some fun cartoon stationery.
The thought is all but forgotten when Amie pushes between me and Paloma as Katy pays for her purchases.
“Speaking of cowboys,” she says, looking pointedly at me.
“Yes!” Paloma cries, bouncing on the balls of her feet and clapping her hands lightly before grabbing my arm. Katy rolls her eyes. “Tell us more about Cowboy Boo!”
Katy and I had a long conversation on the phone a few nights ago, where I told her everything about bumping into Everett again.
But this is the first time the four of us have been together since then, and I guess I do owe them the details.
Actually, to tell the truth, I’m dying to talk to them about him.
“Can we have a margarita lunch?” I ask. I could do with a drink and some tacos. The banana I ate for breakfast is no longer doing the trick. “Get me some tequila and I’ll tell you everything.”
“Promises, promises,” Amie laughs. She follows Katy in line to pay for the dinosaur stationery, then links one arm with mine and the other with Katy. I grab Paloma’s hand, and the four of us amble towards the mall’s food court and our favourite Mexican restaurant.
With a large plate of nachos on the table between us, and a cocktail each—despite my request for tequila, Amie and I are unfortunately drinking mocktails as we have to drive home—I finally prepare to get my friends caught up on my life.
At Katy’s insistence, I pass my phone around the table for them all to see the contact picture associated with Everett.
“Everett, huh? Sexy name,” Amie hums.
“God, you’re nearly as big a slut as me,” Paloma slaps Amie’s hand away from my phone as she tries to get a proper look. “You’ve got a man.”
“Yeah, but I’ve still got eyes, bitch.”
Paloma laughs. “True enough. And good lord, Ruthy this cowboy is fine.”
“Isn’t he?” I sigh wistfully. He’s fine as hell. “He said—he implied—I mean, he kinda…”
“Spit it out, love,” Katy laughs.
“Nah, swallowing’s more fun.” Amie winks. Paloma splutters on a mouthful of her margarita, and Katy slaps her back lightly as she reaches over to bump Amie’s outstretched fist with her own.
“Heinvitedmetostaywithhim,” I say in a rush, words all jumbled together. He invited me to visit, to stay with him, and I’m seriously considering pushing all of my grown-up responsibilities aside and taking him up on the offer.
“What?” Paloma’s earsplitting screech is almost enough to shatter the glass in her hand—not to mention, enough to rupture my eardrums.
“He lives just outside Austin. He gave me his number and we’ve texted a bit, talked on the phone.
We even FaceTimed last night. He said next time I’m in town, I should stay an extra day or two, and he’ll show me around.
” I scoop up a pile of salsa on a chip from the edge of the nacho plate and shove the whole stack of food into my mouth.
Not that it will deter my friends from peppering me with questions, but it might buy me an extra few seconds to come up with answers.
“But he was in New York.” Amie fills all of our water glasses from the pitcher in the middle of the table.
“His little sister lives there. She has his nose. His lock screen is a picture of them in Times Square.”
“Cute,” Amie hums. “And he’s not serial killer, right?”
I nod. I’m pretty sure he’s just a guy. A good one, maybe even one of the best. He’s been nothing but sweet and respectful on the couple of FaceTime calls we’ve shared.
A waitress dressed in the restaurant’s signature black and neon green uniform delivers our variety platter of tacos, and we pause our conversation for Paloma to flirt outrageously whilst ordering a second margarita and another pitcher of water for the table.
“That’s good enough for me,” Amie declares once the waitress has moved on. “Do it, girl. Go get some of that cowboy boo, Boo.”
“I haven’t decided anything,” I lie. I take a huge bite out of a taco. I have all but decided. Something in my gut tells me I need to see him again.
“What have you got to lose, Roo?” Katy asks gently.
“He’s fine, you’re fine—it’s not like you won’t be flying out there anyway, right?
It’s not like you have to marry the guy.
Let loose! Have some fun!” By the time she’s finished her speech, I’ve finally finished chewing the taco, and I have nothing left to hide behind. I put on my best glare.
“I fly out there for work, Katy. Not for fun.”
“Work hard, play hard, sis.” Paloma raises her cocktail in a toast before draining the glass.
“When are you out there next, Ruth? Text him. What’s the worst that could happen?
” Amie pushes my phone back across the table, and when I meet her eyes, I realise all three of my best friends are staring at me.
Two of them are, at least—Paloma immediately cracks, laughing to herself.
I adore her, but if push came to shove and our lives depended on her success in a staring contest, we’d all be utterly screwed.
“Okay, fine, thanks Doctor Pepper,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
Immediately, the song from the early 2000s advertising campaign begins to play in my head, and I groan inwardly.
I’ll be singing it to myself for the next week, I’m sure of it.
“Maybe I’ll text him next time I’m in Austin.
Don’t get your hopes up. It might turn into nothing. ”
“But it might be something,” Paloma giggles, waggling her eyebrows.
When I get home later in the afternoon, I book myself a flight from New York to Austin, following my next business trip, and I start earmarking my favourite clothes to pack in my suitcase.