Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
RACHEL
I grab something to eat at the Bramble & Butter Deli down the road from the resort and scroll on my phone while I wait for Paige to text, letting me know she’s done with work for the day. She said she gets off at five, and it’s almost four thirty, so I don’t have long to wait.
The turkey sandwich on their homemade rosemary focaccia is delicious, and I sort of wish I ordered a full versus a half sandwich, but I chose house-cooked kettle potato chips instead of a green salad, and a girl has to watch her calories where she can.
I also ordered a pink lemonade because soda sounded awful and water sounded boring.
And the pink lemonade is lip-smacking good.
So good, I go back for a refill, which they give me.
For free. They don’t seem annoyed with me occupying a table long after I’ve finished my lunch either, which is nice.
Everyone around here is nice, which I’m not used to.
I can’t help but feel unsettled, considering I’m from the city and I’ve been told my entire life to trust no one.
I suppose I need to accept the townsfolk’s open kindness—well, the fire captain wasn’t that kind, but that also wasn’t my most shining moment, so I get it.
Besides, Edmund also seemed kind when I first met him.
He also seemed completely into me, and look what he did?
Disposed of me the moment he returned to London.
Ugh. Men are seriously the worst.
I hate to admit this, but over lunch, I might’ve broken down and done a little stalking in the name of research and discovered that Edmund went out with that Lady Cocksbury woman years ago, before he met me.
He never mentioned her to me once, but I’m guessing he never mentioned me to her either, so there’s an unpleasant pattern.
I’m making all sorts of assumptions about what he’s told this woman about me and our relationship, and I’m mad at myself for wasting my time on this.
But a girl needs closure, and Edmund most definitely did not give me that.
The asshole.
Eventually, I get a text from Paige with the address of her condo, and I meet her over there, immediately getting out of the car when I see her standing near one of the buildings like she’s waiting for me.
“There you are!” She waves when she spots me, and I grab my travel bag, along with my Birkin, and head in her direction.
“Can I park anywhere?” is the first question I ask as I get closer.
“Yes, that’s not a problem. All residents have one covered parking spot, and the lot is open to guests or more cars. Whatever.” She smiles, her eyes sparkling, and she turns away from me, starting to walk. “Follow me.”
We end up in front of a freshly painted red door on the far side of the building, and she unlocks it, throwing the door open wide. “Welcome to your temporary home!”
I walk in, entering the living room, and I glance around, taking in the sparse furniture. It’s simple and clean, and there’s a black-and-white cat curled up on the back of the couch, sitting on a thick blanket.
“It’s not much. And that’s Patches the cat,” Paige says, pointing as she shuts and locks the door. “The kitchen is over there.”
I glance to my left and spot the narrow kitchen and the tiny dining table with two chairs next to it. “I like it.”
“And the bedrooms are upstairs. You’ll have your own bathroom too, so that’s nice, right?” Paige heads for the stairs, and I follow her up, both of us pausing at the first closed door we come across. “Here’s your room. Please don’t be scared because it looks like a bomb went off in there.”
She slowly opens the door, revealing that, yes, it does look like a bomb went off inside. There are boxes and clothes everywhere. I can’t even see the bed. Is there a bed in this room? She said there was . . .
“I know, it’s so bad. I went through an overconsumption phase and bought . . . a lot of stuff I didn’t need,” Paige admits. “ was my best friend.”
I stare at the various boxes stacked . .
. everywhere. There is a mountain of clothes on what I now can see is the bed.
Paige can tell I’m staring at that pile and darts over to it, gathering up clothes in her arms before she turns to face me.
I can barely see her eyes, the pile is so high. “I’ll get rid of all this right now.”
She’s about to leave the room, and I stop her, placing a gentle hand on her arm. “Want my help?”
“I was just going to put this in my room to keep it out of your way.”
“I don’t need anything but the bed, really.
Besides, it’s only for one night.” And that realization makes me sad.
I can’t take advantage of this woman’s kindness and stay indefinitely.
Despite her offer, I don’t need to be here to wait for the insurance company, do I?
It’s doubtful. And while I would love to get to know Paige because I get the sense that we’re eerily similar, I also refuse to be a burden.
Ugh, I’m a burden to everyone, I swear. When am I ever going to learn how to stand on my own two feet?
“You’re not going to stay so you can handle the insurance stuff?” Paige sounds sad.
“My father will probably make me go back home.” I go to the bed and gather up a bunch of clothes, piling them in my arms much like Paige just did. “Where should we put this stuff?”
“Let’s go to my room.”
I follow her into her bedroom, amazed at how stark and clean it is. She dumps the clothes on the floor by the sliding glass door, and I do the same, making a decent-sized mountain. “Your room is so clean.”
“I aspire to be this person.” She lifts her hands up to the ceiling. “But I’m really this person.” She gestures toward the pile of clothes.
“I’m the same way,” I admit. “I also have clothes everywhere and a giant closet that I shove everything in. I shop way too much.”
My closet is chaos. Much like the room I’m supposed to sleep in tonight.
“This is all stuff I bought last summer when I was dating this guy.” She makes a face, her tone shifting when she says “this guy,” like he’s a slimy worm. “I don’t know why I wasted my time.”
“Was he at least cute?”
“Not really. He had nice arms. I was only going out with him to make a point.”
“To who?”
“Another guy.” Paige laughs, but it’s weak. “Pathetic, right?”
“Not even.” My voice is gentle. “Come on. I’ll help you.”
Paige frowns. “Help me with what?”
“Cleaning all of this up. And if we get done early enough, I can take you to dinner. What do you think?”
Her face brightens. “I’d appreciate the help. And a free dinner.”
“Let’s do it then.”
* * *
Over two hours later, we’re finally done.
Somewhat. We created a trash pile, a donate pile, and a keep pile, and I praised her for the keep pile being decidedly smaller than the other two.
We sorted through every single thing in that spare bedroom of hers and put all the clothes to be donated into trash bags, which we loaded into the back of her old Ford truck.
The pickup is cute and all, but it looks undependable, and I don’t know why she’d waste her time on a car like that.
Maybe she can’t afford anything else. I get the idea that she doesn’t have a lot of money, and she grumbled while we went through everything about how she’d racked up credit card debt, buying all this stuff to impress a man.
She said the word man like it was a curse, and I’ve never related to something more. As a matter of fact, I want to know more about this man and how he disrupted her life. I’d love to get a drink and commiserate about man troubles over dinner. Sounds like the perfect end to a not-so-perfect day.
“You want to go to Mitchell’s Landing for dinner?” Paige asks as we leave the condo. The sun is starting to set, casting the sky with a pinkish-golden hue, and it’s beautiful. I can still hear the boat motors from out on the lake, but otherwise the complex where she lives is quiet. Peaceful.
“Isn’t that a hamburger place?” When she nods, I continue. “I was hoping to go somewhere . . . nicer.”
“Their food is good, and I can get us a discount.”
“How?”
“I work there too. Part-time, just in the summer. I took on the extra job to pay off my credit card debt.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m dumb, but I got myself into this mess, and I’m going to get myself out of it too.”
“I’m sure you will.” I offer her a smile. “But let’s go to the steakhouse. They have wine.”
Paige blows out a breath, smiling in return. “Wine does sound really good right now.”
“Then let’s go.” I hook my arm through hers as we head toward the parking lot.
I think on what she said as I drive us to the one steak restaurant by the lake.
About how she’s working on getting herself out of the mess she made for herself.
I get myself into plenty of messes, but I don’t try to work my way out of them.
I always have Mom and Dad bail me out. Every time.
And they do it—every single time. I don’t know how to get myself out of trouble.
I just seem to always fall into it and never think about the consequences.
And I never have to pay for those consequences either—either figuratively or literally. I need to grow up and figure out what I’m doing with my life. Not tonight, though.
No, tonight I need to use Daddy’s credit card to pay for dinner and drinks.
Guess I’ll attempt to take responsibility for my own life starting tomorrow.