5. Dee
Chapter five
Dee
“So…to sum up. I may have been laid off, and I may be on the precipice of being fired, but I’m up one roommate. So really, if you do the math, I’m coming out on top here.”
I sip my mimosa, eyes on the ceiling, polishing it off before unleashing a giant grin at my friends, who are all staring at me. I give a small curtsey.
“Thank you all for taking the news so well. Now, should we start with the flowery-looking project first?” I say, walking over to Bec and Aiden’s dining table that’s currently littered with supplies for Bec’s bridal shower centerpieces.
Their December wedding is just two months away, but since Aiden’s season with the Aviators—the pro baseball team in Columbus—just ended, they’re finally focused on preparing for the big day.
Five sets of eyes stare at me, then share a look. My friends close in on me, herding me closer to the table, talking over each other so quickly I can barely make out what they’re saying.
“I can’t believe you weren’t going to tell us about your job.”
“And Dylan moving in with you?”
“I’m really sorry, Dee. I can see if the hospital has any openings for support staff if that would help.”
“Dylan. Dylan is moving in with you? Who are you and what have you done with Deanna Perry? You two annoy the shit out of each other.”
“Can I watch? The fireworks, I mean. I give it twelve hours.”
“You guys”—I take a step back and place my hands out in front of me—“are acting like I made this offer impulsively.”
“You did,” Bec says with conviction. Her brown hair is thrown up in a messy bun, bobbing with every nod of her head. “Like, within thirty seconds of learning Dylan needed a place to crash.”
“Who am I to fuck with destiny? What are the chances that I benefit from having a roommate at the same time that he needs a place to crash? Seriously, couldn’t have planned it better myself.
Besides, I had to strike before he figured out something more sensible.
Mama needs rent money, and here we are.”
“Have you given any thought about what it’ll be like to share living space with a man? It can be…interesting,” Bec says.
“Yeah, try living with two of them,” Ellie adds with a laugh before dropping into one of the chairs at the table. She and Dominic have been married for years, and their son Luca just turned two.
“Luca does not count. He is perfect.” Carissa beams, tucking her auburn hair behind her ear before joining Ellie at the table.
“And almost as messy as his dad,” Ellie adds. “I love Dominic, I do. But that first year of living together was an adjustment.”
“Guys, we’re not dating. We’re sharing common spaces. Kitchen, living room, laundry. We both need this. I have a second bedroom, and he’s going to help me with rent while I find a new job. This isn’t that serious.”
“How close are you two?” Evie asks, tying her long blonde hair into a bun on top of her head. It’s a fair question since she’s only known us since Bec and Aiden got engaged almost a year ago. Evie is Aiden’s younger sister, and soon to be Bec’s sister-in-law.
Carissa chimes in. “If by close you mean they’re a huge pain in the ass to each other, then super close.”
“And close enough to flirt,” Abby adds. I met Abby about two years ago when she started working with Bec at the Center, where they both train service dogs, therapy dogs, and family pets.
She sits in the dining room chair closest to Hopper, Bec and Aiden’s yellow lab, and scratches him under his chin.
“Flirt? With Dylan? No, no, no, no, no. Dylan and I are cut from the same cloth; if that looks like flirting, it’s merely a coincidence,” I insist.
“Maybe she’s right. Maybe we’re the ones who should be scared right now,” Bec says, gathering faux flowers in bunches and handing them to each of us as we join Abby at the table.
“I mean, think about it. The two of them on their own have enough confidence and sass to bring down the city. Together?” She fake shivers. “The consequences could be deadly.”
“Fuck off,” I say with a laugh. “Do Dylan and I tease each other some days and annoy each other to death the next? Maybe. But it’s never been like that.”
“Okay, but what if that changes when you see him shirtless. Or he walks in and you’re in nothing but a towel. Wet hair dripping down your shoulders…” Bec’s gaze wanders off somewhere in the distance, her fingers mindlessly toying with the flower petals still in her hand.
“Are you ovulating or something?” Abby asks.
Bec shrugs. “It’s possible…”
“Please, go on.” I insist. “In what situation is Dylan stripping for me? Ooooh, maybe we can book him as our entertainment for the bachelorette party and we can all see him shirtless.” I elbow Evie and she laughs. “I’m generous like that. I’ll share.”
“At our joint bachelor and bachelorette party? Aiden and I agreed. No strippers. We’ll already be married at that point anyway.”
“Aye aye, Mrs. Price. I’ll be on my best behavior. Cancel strippers,” I mumble while miming a dramatic cross out in the air with my imaginary pen and paper.
Aiden and Bec decided to get married as quickly as possible, given Aiden’s mother’s health condition. She was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s disease years ago, and they’re worried about waiting too long and how that’ll impact her ability to attend and enjoy the day.
Aiden and Bec planned a local winter wedding this December to avoid any conflicts with Aiden’s baseball season, leaving little time for pre-wedding shenanigans.
As best man and maid of honor, Dom and Ellie are planning a joint bachelor and bachelorette party in January, where we’ll join Bec and Aiden in Mexico after their week-long honeymoon.
This wasn’t an issue when I was fully employed, but thank God Dylan showed up in his hour of need, so I can still afford the trip in my hour of need. I’d feel like the ultimate asshole if I had to bail on the trip, though I know Bec would understand.
“If strippers are off the table, I’m out,” Abby jokes with a wink at Bec, all while arranging her centerpiece effortlessly.
God, couldn’t I have gotten at least one ounce of artistic talent like Abby? Like Ellie? Maybe then I wouldn’t need to suckle off the corporate teat. If I could use the right side of my brain, I could be a creative doing creative things.
One look at my mangled attempt at an ethereal floral arrangement, and all those hopes are dashed.
I’m doomed to be a corporate cog for the rest of my days.
That is, if anyone will actually fucking hire me.
Still no word from any of the places I applied to after not hearing back from the multiple interviews I went to.
Maybe I will need to take Carissa up on her offer and apply for some kind of supportive role at the hospital.
She’s been working as a nurse in the emergency room for years, but she’s always pulling crazy hours.
I’m no stranger to putting in overtime, but there’s no way I’m qualified for anything like that, right?
“I think this is a great idea,” Abby adds distractedly, cutting ribbon for her glass vase.
“I knew you were my favorite,” I whisper loudly.
Jesus Christ. I spy even more boxes of flowers on the kitchen counter. How many of these things do I need to ruin—I mean make—tonight?
“Well, now you have to explain,” Bec says around a mouthful of chips.
Abby leans across the table, sending me a look that spells trouble. “You might change your mind when I give my reasoning.”
“Doubtful,” I say, with as much confidence as I can muster. But Abby tends to see more than most, and if she’s analyzing my life too closely, that can’t be great for me.
“You’re both outgoing, attractive, charismatic.
I’m going to go with you’ll be explosive one way”—she holds out one palm—“or another”—she holds out the other.
“At least you know it’ll be an exciting time.
” She shrugs, her long braids flowing around her shoulders, before she continues fluffing her already perfect floral arrangement.
“Just make sure you don’t get burned by those fireworks. ”
“Don’t wiggle your eyebrows at me, Abby Davis. We will be roommates, and nothing more.”
It’s not that I haven’t thought about Dylan like that.
He’s hot. He gives just as good as he gets, and in my experience, people like that make fun partners in every way.
But we’ve been friends for so long, I can’t imagine it going any further than harmless flirting.
No, Dylan is exactly the type of friend I’d love living with.
Never dull, but relaxed. Easy going, but fun.
And it sure as fuck doesn’t hurt that he’s easy on the eyes.
“If you say so,” Abby says, while her tone is clearly giving an air of Yeah fucking right.
I give a stern look at my other not-so-serious friends sitting around the table; they all giggle and return to our project.
We work for a few minutes in comfortable silence. Just the sound of Bec’s playlist in the background, along with the sound of Hopper, her yellow lab, going to town on a bone near Bec’s feet.
“But if I was going to flirt with danger…” I say with a smirk, unable to refrain from being the menace I was born to be. “I bet he’s huge.”
“I knew it! You want him!” Bec yells, and I laugh so hard, tears streak down my face.
Even when I’m struggling, my friends always know how to remind me of what’s important.
It’s not the job. It’s not the apartment.
It’s this. This ease…this comfort…this warmth knowing that no matter what happens, these girls and I are till the end.
I’ve got them, and they’ve got me. And really, that’s all I’ve ever needed.