Chapter 22 #3
She wanted to see Juliet. It had been over a week since they’d hooked up in L.A.
, and they hadn’t gone longer than two weeks without seeing one another since they’d started this.
Her body had almost a Pavlovian response to seeing Juliet’s texts pop up.
Mind-blowing sex was going to happen, followed by actual rest.
She’d started craving it.
So… she rolled the dice. “It’s not something that’s invite-only. Blythe would definitely accept help from more people than just me and Emerson. I know it’s not the usual,” she added, quickly, unsure of how to even qualify it. “But if we want to get to the sex part…”
Well, she supposed she could always drive to Nashville tonight, when she was done.
But now that she’d said it, now that she’d put the idea of Juliet coming here into the world, she wanted it. She wanted to see her, now.
She held her breath, waiting, because she knew there was not a non-zero chance that Juliet would say no. And it would be totally reasonable, because this wasn’t what they did.
Juliet didn’t answer for even longer than Darcy had expected, and she was sitting completely still. To the point that Darcy wondered if she’d lost reception.
“Are you there?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing together.
“All right,” Juliet agreed, in that kind of reserved, almost snippy? tone. “That can’t be too bad.”
“I can’t guarantee anything. But I can guarantee I can come to pick you up as soon as possible.” She knew Juliet’s typical hotel in Nashville, now, and given how early it was… “I’ll be there in about two hours.”
“I’ll see you then,” Juliet returned.
Then, abruptly, ended the call.
Darcy sprung into action. She hadn’t really taken into account cleaning the apartment, first. Obviously, they’d be at Blythe’s for most of the day, but she had to assume they’d come here, too?
As she started pushing her clean clothing into her dresser drawers, she remembered to call Blythe.
Who answered on the first ring, “Where are you?”
“I’m – okay, I’m going to be a little late. As in, just before noon. Probably.”
“Darcy!” Blythe was aghast. And annoyed.
Darcy could tell from just the way she said her name.
“You said you’d be here early to help! I’ve just gotten everything separated into the proper piles in the living room, sorting through the ornaments.
Emerson is already here untangling all of the lights.
Colton’s stringing up the garland in the entryway.
You’re supposed to be here for the popcorn strings.
You know how time consuming those are; it’ll throw the whole schedule off. ”
“Ohhhh my god?” She whistled under her breath, pulling out a pair of jeans to wear for the day. “Blythe, you sound like – I mean, not like our mom, but someone’s neurotic mom.”
Their mom had never cared about the holidays very much. Even when she was sober, even when she wasn’t in a hot mess of a relationship, even when she had some extra money for gifts, there was never any fanfare.
Her sister didn’t blink. “Maybe I do, but…” She trailed off with a hefty sigh.
Darcy couldn’t help but soften.
Because she got it. She knew Blythe. Doing something like this – being the host of a big holiday party, complete with decorations and food and music and drinks – it meant something to her. Darcy couldn’t relate to it, but she understood it.
“I’m not bailing on you,” she promised. “I’m going to be there. You know you can count on me.”
She’d never left Blythe hanging. She never would.
“So what are you doing, then?”
Darcy paused. Her entire body paused, really. “You know how you wanted to know who I’m sleeping with…”
Complete quiet fell over the line. She was on speaker, and she’d been able to hear Colton and Emerson moving about in the background, but now everything stopped.
“Yes,” Blythe confirmed, and Darcy could hear the impatience, the anticipation. “And I still want to know why Emerson got to know and I didn’t. No offense, Em.”
“None taken,” Emerson assured her, quietly.
“I always just thought it was ’cuz Em’s also gay,” Colton stated, sounding confused.
Darcy’s mouth fell open, shock rushing through her. Granted, Colton wasn’t totally wrong. But who knew he was so observant?! Emerson didn’t even have anything going on to observe!
“What?!” Blythe actually gasped.
“Oh, so you’re surprised about her, but not your own sister,” Darcy grumbled.
Blythe ignored her. “Is that true?!”
Darcy could only imagine Emerson sitting there, the center of Blythe and Colton’s stares. At the very least, Emerson was comfortable with them, unlike how she felt with nearly everyone else. She winced, though. “Colton, my dude, some tact.”
Emerson cleared her throat quietly. “It’s fine. I mean. I, uh, it’s not… not true?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was a big deal. I thought – I mean, I thought everything was out in the open, between us here.” Colton’s apology was written right into his voice.
“Please think before you say something like that again, Colton.” Blythe didn’t often take that stern, unhappy tone with Colton; not that she’d ever have to, usually. But Darcy appreciated hearing it. Blythe then cleared her throat, sharply. “But… you two aren’t…”
“No!” Darcy and Emerson simultaneously, firmly cut her off.
Perhaps Emerson wasn’t her sister; they didn’t have the same kind of emotional cornerstones – the issues, really – she and Blythe shared, that was for sure.
But she loved her in the same kind of way, and always had.
She’d only found out Emerson didn’t identify as straight after Darcy had confessed to her, into their twenties.
“Um… so… Darcy?” Emerson prompted, very clearly wanting the attention off of her.
Which, really, had been the purpose of her call, so Darcy was happy to jump in. “Right, back to me. Uh. It’s Juliet. And she’s in Nashville right now, so I’m going to pick her up. And she’s going to help with the party prep, so – really – I’m ultimately helping by bringing another set of hands.”
“Juliet? Juliet Jacobs?” Blythe groaned. “That fucking obsession this summer. I knew you were way too fixated.”
“I was not,” she defended, frowning as she finished getting dressed and went out into the living room on her renewed mission to do a quick clean up. “We weren’t sleeping together, then.”
“Oh, I know,” Blythe assured. “You think I didn’t know you were genuinely, deeply pissed? I’m just saying – it went deeper than anything I’ve ever seen from you. Deeper than what happened in high school or anything like that.”
Darcy frowned. She’d kind of thought it had been similar, at the time. It felt the same, anyway. Being picked on. But, “Well, Juliet was doing it on the world stage.”
“Yeah, but–” Blythe cut herself off. “So, she’s coming here?”
“Just for the day, yeah.”
“Well, when it comes to this revelation, I had no idea,” Colton swore.
She snorted. “I’ll be there in a little while.”
“With Juliet,” Blythe tacked on.
“Yes. With Juliet.”
It was only when she came to a stop down the street from Juliet’s hotel that she actually doubted this.
They’d never spent the day together.
They’d never spent time with other people.
They didn’t not have sex.
What, Juliet was going to come over to Blythe’s house and string popcorn with her?! What was that about?
Then she saw Juliet walking down the street toward her, wearing a cream-colored cable knit sweater and jeans and cowboy boots and an inscrutable look on her face that gave nothing away.
For all Darcy knew, she was having the same question about what they were doing and why they were doing it that she was.
But Juliet didn’t pause.
So, this was happening.