5. Five #2
“Believe it or not, I did bring that up to her.” Wylie’s smile was rueful, and it made her even prettier, which was mind-boggling because she was already gorgeous. “I think she’s looking for something that even she can’t identify, and she won’t know what it is until she finds it.”
“Don’t you worry about her?”
Wylie shrugged. “She’s pretty capable. She keeps in touch. She has to live her own life.”
I nodded. The next question was the one I was dreading asking. I’d considered not asking it, but I was too curious not to. “And Mick? How is he?”
Wylie blinked, then blinked again. She hadn’t believed I would go there, I realized. She was readjusting her expectations. “He’s good,” she replied finally. “He and Mom seem happy.”
Yes, Agnes had married my mother’s third husband.
I always knew that had something to do with the fight, although my mother refused to acknowledge that.
She just said Mick and Agnes were dead to her and never talked about it again.
I knew, though. Agnes and Mick had embarked on an affair, one that had crushed my mother’s heart.
Sure, my mother was as fickle as they come.
Nobody deserved that level of betrayal from somebody they considered a sister, however.
And, weirdly, I’d missed Mick when he was gone.
I’d thought I hated the man when he was married to my mother, but once he’d left the house, I realized I’d never hated him.
I’d come to rely on the stability he offered me.
It was too late to tell him that, though.
I’d never seen him after the Austin incident either.
“Well, that’s good.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t want to fight with you,” I said finally, the words tumbling out. “What happened between our mothers shouldn’t affect us.”
“Meaning what?” Her eyes took on a wariness that I didn’t like.
“Meaning that we can be adults. We don’t have to be friends. I don’t want the others to feel uncomfortable being around us. They have established friendships, and I don’t want to get in the way of those friendships.”
Slowly, she nodded. “I don’t want that either. Bella has been nothing but kind to me.”
“And I like Brody and Bree a great deal,” I agreed. “Bree is a little intense about me keeping a naked statue in my yard because it’s grandfathered in under some HOA clause that was created just for her, but otherwise, she’s great.”
Wylie pressed her lips together in an attempt not to laugh. Her eyebrows raised, and I recognized the expression from when she was 16. Somehow, it was even more adorable now. “You have a naked statue in your yard?”
I nodded. “Bree dressed it up for holidays. I guess that’s the loophole. It’s considered a holiday decoration.”
“Please tell me you’re going to keep it and dress it up.”
That was ludicrous. “Absolutely not. The neighbors hate it.”
“So? Why do you care what the neighbors think?”
She’d never cared what other people thought. I always had. That was one of our main differences, although it was something I couldn’t get over. “It’s going,” I insisted.
“Does she know that?”
“Yes and no. I’ve told her, but she’s still in denial.”
“Well, it’s your yard.” She held out her hands and shrugged again.
“It is my yard.”
The uncomfortable silence was back, this time with a vengeance. I needed to end this conversation.
“I don’t want things to be awkward between us,” I started. “We don’t have to be friends or anything. We just can’t pretend we don’t know each other. We’re going to have the same friends while we’re here, so … let’s just agree to treat each other as polite acquaintances.”
“Okay,” she replied, not missing a beat. It wasn’t that I expected her to argue. I hadn’t expected her to agree that readily either.
“Okay?” I challenged.
“Okay.” Her smile was polite and flat, something you would point at a stranger. “I’m fine with that.”
“Yeah?” It was a relief, and yet somehow a disappointment at the same time.
“Yup.” She was oddly blasé about the whole thing.
“Well, great.” I forced a smile I didn’t feel. “I’m glad we agree.”
“We totally do.”
“Great,” I repeated, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Well, I should be going. Although … where is your apartment?” It was dark. How safe was Savannah? I didn’t actually know.
“It’s about 15 minutes away,” she replied. “It’s an easy walk.”
“Okay, well, should I walk you home?” It was a jerk move to put the onus of that decision on her, but I honestly didn’t know how this was supposed to go.
“I’ll be fine,” she assured me.
“But is it safe?”
“It’s fine.” She turned to leave, but I reached out to grab her elbow to stop her.
“I’m being serious,” I insisted when she lifted her eyes to mine. “If it’s not safe, I can walk you home and call my Uber to pick me up there.”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Wylie replied as she pulled her elbow away from me. There was a defiance in her eyes that hadn’t been there when she was a kid. It made her even more attractive.
Dammit!
“I can take care of myself, Huxley,” she said evenly. “I’m not that geeky kid who embarrassed you and was all over the place. I’m an adult now. I can walk a few blocks after dark.”
“But …” It wasn’t about her being geeky. It was about her being safe. Her expression told me that didn’t matter to her. I took a step back. “Okay.” My smile was flat and hard. “Be careful.”
“Thanks. I’ll be fine.”
I watched her go, conflicted. Then I started following.
From a discreet distance, of course. She never once looked over her shoulder.
I followed her across multiple intersections, always making sure I could see her but never growing too close.
When she finally reached her destination, I hung back in the shadows and watched her clear security to get into her building.
Wylie Dixon was just as stubborn as I remembered.
So much of her was the same, and yet so much was different, too.
She hadn’t grown up how I expected her to grow up, and that was hard for me to accept.
I’d been so certain of who she would be that I’d never seen the potential, even though it was obviously right there.
My phone dinged with an incoming text, and I welcomed the distraction. I would have to walk a few blocks away before calling my Uber — I didn’t want Wylie to see that I’d followed her through a window or anything — but it could wait a few minutes.
I had a text from my agent.
How did the reader event go? Did I mention that they’re trying to negotiate a visit from your mother for the final event of the season, at the end of the summer? It’s going to be epic.
Josh Harding was my agent, and he said annoying things like “epic” and “rad” all the time.
I liked him anyway. News that they were trying to get my mother for the final event was hardly surprising.
Even now, years removed from the big movie trilogy and series, she was a sought-after name.
The news wouldn’t have bothered me before I realized Wylie was here, too.
Now that I knew she was, however, my stomach threatened a revolt.
I couldn’t explain to Josh why it was a bad idea to bring my mother here.
If I mentioned Wylie’s presence, that would just get the higher-ups salivating even more.
We had different publishers, which probably meant nobody had realized that we would cross paths.
I would have to figure out a different way to escape the situation.
I could always just call my mother and tell her I didn’t want her there because she would steal my thunder.
She would understand that and agree to stay away.
Yeah, that was the ticket. For now, I wouldn’t even mention it. I typed a quick reply back.
It was good. Fun, even. I’m waiting for an Uber now. I’ll message you a full report tomorrow.
I got a thumbs-up in reply.
I cast one more look at Wylie’s building over my shoulder, then turned to walk toward a well-lit area about a block away.
I’d always wondered what it would feel like to see her again. Now I knew, and none of the scenarios that had played out in my head matched the reality. She was here, and she wasn’t leaving. What did that mean for both of us?