Chapter 6 Jade #2
Lucy: I’m pretty sure there’s an actual warning label on the bottle that says ‘do not use cleaner as a bubble bath’.
You think the eucalyptus lemon smelled good?
Definitely try the grapefruit one. I contemplated taking a tiny taste until every Mr. Yuck sticker from my childhood flashed through my mind, warning me not to eat the cleaner.
Jade smiled at the message and cracked her thumb knuckles.
Okay. I will add this to the long list of things that I should not do, per childhood programming: walk on the sidewalk, eat my veggies, stay in school, and ignore bullies (terrible advice by the way). I think I’m batting at about 50%.
The skipping in Jade’s heart upgraded to thumping when three bubbles appeared on the screen.
Lucy: Veggies are disgusting, bullies should be throat punched, and sidewalks are overrated.
Jade: Veggies are disgusting? For real, or just kidding?
Lucy: No, for real. Oh, wait. I do like corn on the cob with butter and salt. Does that count?
Jade: Corn is like the bottom of the barrel of all the veggies.
Lucy: I’ll chow down a Caesar every once in a while. Dripping with dressing and a half-pound of cheese, of course.
Lucy: Oh wait, let me guess. You eat veggies regularly, get three squares a day, and practice gratitude meditation for thirty minutes every morning.
Jade: One out of three isn’t a bad guess. I’m vegetarian.
Lucy: Wait, really? No.
Jade: Yep, since I was fifteen.
Lucy: Oh, you poor thing. Does that mean no burgers, no steak, no nothing?
Jade: That’s what that means.
Lucy: Growing up, we basically had slabs of meat and something resembling a veggie for dinner. I even used to hunt with my dad but couldn’t actually pull the trigger. Never mind that it was freaking cold and kind of boring.
‘Oh shit!’ The water sloshed onto the floor and Jade flung her phone to the side. The towel dropped to her feet as she dashed to the tub. Crap, crap. She cranked the water off, lifted the plug drain with a gurgling pop, and frantically grabbed any towel available to sop up the wet floor.
‘Hello? Hello?’
What the hell? Jade jolted at the sound of the voice, looked at her cell facing sunny-side up with Lucy’s tilted head filling the screen. Ack! Jade threw the towel over the phone. ‘Oh my God! Did I butt-dial you?’
‘Well, not sure if you used actual cheeks, but you did video call me.’
That did not just happen. Oh my dear God, please can a crater come swallow me whole? Heat fanned Jade’s face. ‘You saw my boobs!’ She wrapped a robe around herself and lifted the towel from the phone. ‘I think I might die, now. You might need to call me back at my funeral.’
Lucy’s hand covered her mouth. She giggled and shook her head. ‘I didn’t see your boobs.’
‘Yes, you did.’ Jade wanted the tub to fall through the floor and take her with it. ‘Pretty sure you got my left tit in a weird angle. The left one isn’t even my good one!’
Laughter rang through the phone. Now pink flushed Lucy’s pale cheeks. ‘I promise you I didn’t. I wasn’t even sure how to answer the video call – I’ve never used video calling over social media. Anyway, when I did, the screen went black.’
‘Oh, whew.’ Jade was pretty sure Lucy was lying, but for right now, she’d take the gift. Honestly. How does stuff like this even happen? ‘I was about to get in the tub, and it overflowed, and I tossed the phone. Must’ve hit the button.’
Lucy propped herself up to a sitting position. ‘You didn’t put the eucalyptus cleaner in there, did you?’
‘No, not today. Although you were right – that stuff smelled amazing. But I did add lavender and mint bubbles.’ Jade hiked up her robe, careful not to flash the goods at Lucy, and sat on the edge of the flat-lipped tub.
She slipped her feet into the tub. Oh … heavenly.
The warm water seeped its heat into her sore muscles.
‘I have a vanilla candle buried somewhere in the closet that I was thinking of lighting, but it seemed too complicated.’
‘Good choice.’ Lucy grinned. ‘Too many scents and soon you’ll smell like an indecisive twelve-year-old leaving a mall perfume shop.’
A loud snore boomed through the phone.
‘Was that you?’
‘No. It’s my dog, Chucky.’ Lucy lowered the phone screen to a sleeping, fluffy golden dog on the floor. She ran her fingers across the dog’s back.
Jade swirled the water with her feet. ‘He’s sweet. What kind of dog?’
Lucy shrugged. ‘Not sure. They think he’s a Shar Pei, golden retriever mix. He wandered onto my dad’s farm about four years ago. No tags, no nothing. Poor thing was super dirty and skinny. I searched for a month for the owner and no one came forward, so I got to adopt him.’
Adoption. Hearing the word shouldn’t make Jade’s shoulders stiffen. ‘Lucky pup.’
‘Ah, I’m the one who’s lucky. I think he’s the only entity in my life that can handle me on a regular basis.’ Lucy gave him one more scratch. ‘And he’s such a good guard dog. Watch this. Chucky – serial killer at the door. Get him!’
The dog peeked up with one uninterested eye and went back to sleep.
‘Anyway,’ Lucy said, ‘I better let you get back to your eucalyptus-cleaner-free bath.’
‘Suppose so.’ Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it. ‘I know it’s super last minute, but … Want to grab a drink later tonight?’ Holy shit, why did I just do that?
Jade could see Lucy’s smile drop and throat roll with a swallow.
‘Oh, sorry, I have plans.’
Whew. Saved. ‘Of course. People with lives usually have plans on a Saturday night.’ Jade forced out as self-deflecting of a chuckle as she could. ‘Well, have a good n—’
‘How about coffee in the morning?’ The words seemed to tumble out, and Lucy pulled in her lips.
Jade stopped breathing. She wasn’t ready for this. She was not even remotely at a place in her life where she could have coffee with a cute, sparkly woman that she thought about a little too much. Say no, say no. ‘Sounds great.’
What in the absolute hell am I doing? When Jade hung up the phone, she was filled with so much regret for saying yes, that she nearly called back. But, instead of making yet another rash decision, she slipped her entire body into the tub and sighed.
Tonight, regret.
Tomorrow, she’d decide if she’d go through with meeting Lucy or not.