23. Twenty-Three
TWENTY-THREE
Weeks spent with Wylie flew by, almost as if time wasn’t a set point.
When I sat down to do the math one morning in Wylie’s apartment — we still spent more time at her apartment than my house because everything we wanted to do was downtown — I realized we’d been together a solid six weeks, even though there were times it felt like only six hours.
I was still excited by every moment we spent together.
She was feeling more comfortable with me, which meant she would drop little tidbits about herself into conversation, no longer worried that it would make her look like a geek.
I’d told her over and over that I liked it when she was a geek, but she was only now coming to grips with it.
I knew that she liked horror movies and could hold conversations with Bella and Nathan, who had apparently seen every horror movie ever made.
Wylie preferred movies like The Ring, Hereditary, and Weapons.
She made the mistake of telling them she liked Us, which led to an hour of ranting about everything wrong with the movie.
Apparently, there were plot holes big enough to drive a truck through — literally — and they were somehow egregious in nature.
Nathan and Bella snickered when they said the “literally” part about the truck, which suggested it was some inside joke only they got.
Wylie could talk about Star Trek for hours.
I’d never watched a lot of Star Trek, but we’d started watching the movies and shows so I could keep up.
The original show was extremely difficult because of how old it was, so Wylie broke down and picked the 10 best episodes to show me.
They weren’t terrible, but they weren’t my favorites either.
Then we started watching Star Trek: The Next Generation, and things got better.
She skipped around in the first season, explaining the show was finding its footing, and most of it was crap, and then we settled in with the second season.
Weirdly, I found I enjoyed it. I made a big show of letting Wylie think it was torture for me, though. It was part of a game we were playing.
In exchange, I picked movies for us to go to.
We saw Project Hail Mary, which we both loved. We saw Lee Cronin’s The Mummy, which we both hated. We both enjoyed the humor of The Drama and walked away from Michael scratching our heads.
We still went on outings, too. Once a week, we took a day and did no work so we could explore the downtown area.
One of my favorite things was that I could write with Wylie sitting across the table from me.
After the first few weeks, I managed to settle in and get a lot done.
She was always tapping away on her keyboard, so I figured it was the same for her.
Weirdly, we never talked about what we were working on.
Today was an off day, so I was debating what we would do with our time.
The riverboat was still an option, although I had a feeling I needed to get those tickets in advance.
The hop-on hop-off trolley tour seemed like a solid choice.
We still hadn’t visited Bonaventure Cemetery, but that required leaving the immediate downtown area.
The good food, which was always a consideration, was in the downtown area, so the trolley was definitely the best option.
I knew when I heard the footsteps as I sat on the living room couch that they didn’t belong to Wylie.
She was still in the bedroom getting ready.
Her hair, however glorious, took forever to dry.
I didn’t care if she wore it up or down.
She looked beautiful either way. I just liked running my fingers through it at night.
When I lifted my chin, I found Lucy staring at me.
“May I help you?” I asked.
She was in pajamas, obviously having just woken up, and her hair stood out in a variety of directions. It was the same color as Wylie’s hair, but shorter. Her eyes were one shade off from Wylie’s as well. You could tell they were sisters. As far as I was concerned, I’d gotten the superior model.
“Are you and Wylie going out?” she asked, looking around.
I nodded. “She’s getting ready.”
“Where are you going?”
Was this her attempt at making conversation?
I wasn’t in the mood to talk to her — frankly, the fact that she’d tried to blackmail her sister was enough to ensure I never wanted to talk to her — but for Wylie’s sake, I made the attempt.
“We’re going to breakfast, and then I’m thinking the trolley that you can get on and off.
There are parts of the downtown we haven’t seen yet. ”
“Really?” Lucy made a face as she threw herself into the chair that was opposite the couch. “I would have thought you guys had seen everything by now.”
“Not so much.” I took a moment to study her, debating what I wanted to say. “How is work?” I asked, going for the first question that bubbled up.
“Work is work,” she replied. “I’m pretty sure that I don’t want to be a server my entire life.”
“That’s a hard way to go,” I confirmed. “Before my mom hit it big with the Coronado trilogy, her book contracts were basically supplemental income. She worked at a few restaurants when I was a kid, before the money started coming in.”
“Are you suggesting I start writing?”
“No.” I shook my head. “You don’t have the temperament to write. You’re too impatient.”
“See, there’s an insult buried in there.” She made a face. “I’m not an idiot, just because I’m not a top-tier author like the rest of you.”
“I never suggested that you were an idiot,” I replied, refusing to let her bait me. “I suggested that writing isn’t the best career for you because your strengths don’t match what we do.”
“And why is that?”
“Because we have to plant ourselves in chairs constantly to get our stuff done. No words, no money. You’re too antsy for that. You need to be flitting around.”
“So, what do you think I should do?” She looked vulnerable when asking.
The question seemed sincere on the face of it, so I really thought about my answer. “You could be a tour guide, maybe. They’re constantly bouncing around. If you’re into the ghost scene — which I have no idea if you are — that might involve eventually opening your own shop.”
Her eyes went wide. “Do you really think I could do that?”
“Your sister seems to think you could do anything you set your mind to … once you get out of your own way,” I replied.
“I’m mad at her.” Lucy’s lower lip came out to play. “She’s being mean to me.”
“She’s doing what needs to be done for you,” I countered. “She’s the best sister you could ever ask for. She kept you afloat for years. Stop giving her a hard time.”
“You’re just going to take her side because you’re having sex with her.”
“It’s way more than sex.” I considered it. “Although the sex is great.”
She made a face. “I don’t want to hear about it.”
“Are you saying the sex isn’t great with Hayley?” Immediately, I wanted to take back the question. “Wait.” I held up my hand. “Don’t answer that.”
It was too late. Lucy’s expression told me she was about to go on a rant. “She won’t have sex with me until I get my act together. Do you know that she thinks I’m juvenile?”
“I’m shocked,” I deadpanned.
“And lazy. She says I’m lazy.”
“Huh.” Really, what else was I supposed to say to that?
“I’m on my feet for eight-hour shifts four days a week. She doesn’t care, though.” The lip Lucy was obviously comfortable using as a weapon began to tremble. “Nobody cares how hard my life is.”
“Your life isn’t hard,” I countered. I wasn’t going to let her off the hook. “Your life is comfortable enough that you never have to worry about missing rent because your sister will make sure that you never fall through the cracks.
“You have a chance to make something of yourself here,” I continued, my eyes locking with hers. “Have you considered that if you really put some thought into it, your mother would help you with tuition?”
She looked taken aback. “College? But … I never saw myself in college.”
“Well, think about it. Savannah has a state university, a technical university, and an art school. It’s the latter one that gets the most attention.” I paused a beat. “Are you artistic?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Well, why don’t you take advantage of this city?” I suggested. “There are artist shops everywhere. You can keep your job and go to school. Something tells me that your mother and sister would be able to work something out with you when it comes to money on that front.”
“They said no more money.” Lucy looked pitiful. “They just cut me off.”
“Good.” I didn’t care how ruthless I sounded. “You needed to be cut off.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Don’t even,” I warned, wagging my finger. “It’s time to come up with a plan.”
“And what happens if I decide to go to school?” Lucy challenged. “That means I’ll be living with my sister for years. How are you going to handle that? Are we all going to live together?”
“Absolutely not.” I vehemently shook my head. “I’m going to want Wylie all to myself at a certain point.” I smiled just thinking about it, then careened back to reality. “Things can be worked out, though. Don’t focus on mundane details. Think about the full picture.”
She didn’t say anything for several seconds, then sighed. “Maybe I should talk to my mom. I’m just not sure what I would be good at.”
“Talking to your mother sounds like a good idea,” I admitted.
“She probably has a good grip on what you’re capable of.
Give it a shot.” I stood when I heard Wylie’s bedroom door open.
“The one thing you need to do is stop feeling sorry for yourself.” I took a step away from her, then stilled.
“Also, you need to apologize to your sister.”
She made a protesting sound.
“Apologize,” I repeated. “She’s miserable without you.”
“Um … I’ve heard you guys in the bedroom. She’s not miserable. She only speaks Klingon when she’s really excited.”