23. Lizzie
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lizzie
“Knock, knock.” I immediately recognize the voice as Georgie’s. “Are you in here, Lizzie?”
I push myself up off the floor and pop up from behind the counter, where I was scrubbing the baseboards in the shop.
I’m surprised to see it’s not only Georgie, but Layla and Ruthie as well.
“Oh, hello. Nice to see you all.” I step to the sink and wash my hands. “What are you ladies up to?” I ask.
“We came to rescue you,” Layla answers.
“Rescue? I’m all right.”
“We thought it was about time that you got out and about. You’ve been spending all your time in here working, especially whenever Simon isn’t home, and you need a break,” Georgie answers for the group.
I don’t disagree with her. All the cleaning, painting, and peeling wallpaper has wiped me out, but it’s really coming together.
“What’s that saying? I’ll rest when I’m dead, or something like that?” I ask teasingly.
“Yes, and unfortunately, I know that’s probably true for you.” Georgie knows I’m a planner. I map out and schedule as much of my life as I’m able. I can’t afford not to if I want to keep everything running smoothly.
“There’s still a lot to do. But I’m making good time compared to my calendar.”
“Is that what that thing is?” Ruthie asks.
She walks over to the calendar I have pinned up on the outside of my office door. It’s a reminder of all the things I need to do to get this place ready, and when I need them done by. I keep it outside the office so that it motivates me even when I’m just passing through.
My cheeks heat, and suddenly I’m embarrassed by my obsessive planning. Ruthie stares at the calendar. Her mouth is slightly ajar, and she says nothing. Great, my inner control freak has even shocked Ruthie, and I’m betting not much does.
“Wow, that’s a lot of stuff. See, I told you we needed to rescue you,” Layla comments. “It’s final, you gotta come with us to get pet… pet”—she pauses, and looks up at Georgie, who whispers something in her ear—“pedicures.”
I smile at her, and though I love being a boy mom, for a second, I wonder what it would be like to have a daughter as well. I always wanted a big family with several kids, maybe a couple of dogs. But life got a little derailed, and I’m thinking, those things aren’t in the cards for me.
It’s okay, though, because our family of two is perfect as is, and I wouldn’t change the decisions I made when I was younger, even if I could. Letting Landon Carter dictate so much of my life over the last decade was a small price to pay to keep the people I cared about from getting hurt.
“I gotta agree with Ladybug. You definitely need to take some time for self-care. That schedule is a little off the hook,” Ruthie says.
I glance down at my shirt, and grime covers it. I didn’t shower this morning since I’d be cleaning, so I’m sure my hair is gross. Plus, I can’t afford to get off schedule.
“I don’t know. I’m a hot, dirty mess right now. I’d need to shower—”
“You have to come, Lizzie,” Layla says. “You’re coming to the pool party tomorrow, and you don’t wanna be the only one with naked toes.”
I fight a smirk, trying my best not to laugh, as Layla’s face tells me she’s one hundred percent serious. I glance over at Georgie, and she's grinning. She knows I won’t be able to say no to Layla.
“All right, then, it’s settled. We’ll grab a glass of this lemonade you’ve got going over there and sit while you hop in the shower. Just be fast and focus on the high-risk areas—pits, ti—”
“Don’t finish that sentence, Ruthie. I promised Tillie and Henry I wouldn’t let Layla pick up any of your more colorful phrases or word choices. I’m going upstairs with Lizzie to get a drink out of her fridge. I’ll make sure she doesn’t putz around,” Georgie says.
“Hey,” I object, “I’m definitely not a putzer. I’m like the opposite of a putzer.”
Ruthie rolls her eyes and walks over to pour lemonade for her and Layla while Georgie, laughing, herds me toward the stairs to go up to my house.
A few minutes later, I’m drying off after a power shower, and I hear Georgie talking to someone. After I throw on some yoga pants and a tank top, I head to the living room, where Georgie sits with her phone on speaker.
“I mean, I haven’t noticed anything. Can’t you get him to talk to you?” she asks.
“No, I tried but didn’t have any success.” I recognize the deep male voice on the other end as Heath’s. I’ve never met him in person, but I’ve heard enough phone conversations between them to know it’s him.
“He brushes it off. Usually, he’d open up to Hayden—you know that whole twin bond thing, but he stopped doing that a while ago because of all that Hayden’s dealing with.”
“Hmm. I’ll watch out and see if I pick up on anything. But listen, I’ve got to go for now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” I think she and Heath, her best friend, who happens to be a star football player, talk every day.
“Yeah, sure…” He sounds distracted.
“Okay. Love you,” Georgie says.
“Love you, too, brah. Bye.” The call ends, and Georgie sighs. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again.
I clear my throat, so she realizes I’m standing there, and she looks over.
“Hey, you ready?” She stands, and I nod, grabbing my wallet off the counter.
“Yep, I’m ready. Is everything okay with Heath? He sounded worried.” We walk to the door and head down the steep stairs that lead to the bakery.
“Yeah, he’s all right. Hey, have you and Holden had any run-ins lately?”
I think back to the few interactions we’ve had since that day in my house, and though there was tension and a few sharp words, there really haven’t been any major arguments.
“No. I’ve seen him for some of the construction stuff, and it got a little uncomfortable a few times, but nothing serious. Why?”
We’re at the bottom of the steps, and she stops before entering the bakery.
“Nothing concrete, but Heath is convinced something is wrong with him. Says he’s not acting like himself, but he denies anything is wrong when Heath asks.”
“Oh. Yeah, I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
Georgie nods and grasps the door handle. “Okay, just keep an eye out when he’s here, if you would. And we should stop talking about it, so Ruthie doesn’t overhear. That woman loves a good morsel of gossip.” Georgie says it lightheartedly and without malice.
Thirty minutes later, the four of us are sitting in massage chairs with our feet soaking in warm, bubbly water. Layla is next to me, then Georgie, then Ruthie on the opposite end.
Ruthie was bold enough to ask for—and receive—a foot massage while the rest of us are only soaking.
“Ah, yes, that’s the spot. Stay right there. That bunion gets sore. Don’t move.”
I watch the young man working with Ruthie swallow, and I imagine he is wishing he had taken one of the rest of us instead of her.
Layla leans forward and looks past Georgie to Ruthie.
“Ruthie, remember Mommy said you can’t be bossy here, or I gotta tell her and then she’ll—”
Ruthie cackles. “I ain’t afraid of your mom. And this isn’t bossy, just asking for what I want. A woman’s got to do that.”
Layla sits back in her chair and shakes her head. “I can’t take her anywhere.”
“I heard that,” Ruthie says. “I may be old, but I’m not deaf, Ladybug.”
Layla looks over at me with a precious smile. She reaches into the small purse she carried here with her and pulls out a purple notepad and a gel pen.
“Lizzie, I’m writing a report, and I need to ask you some questions, ‘kay?”
“Me? And you have to write a report during the summer? That’s not fair.” I smile at her.
“No, I don’t have to, I want to. That’s how I stay smart,” she taps her head twice with her pen. “What do ya say? Help a girl out?”
She’s so dang cute, there’s no way I can deny her.
“Okay, sure. I’ll do it.” Her smile in return is so gleeful, and it makes me happy to be a part of it.
As our pedicures progress, Layla starts her inquisition.
“Okay, I need to know your favorite color, animal, and person.”
Not too bad so far.
“My favorite color is purple. My favorite animal is definitely dogs. I love dogs.” I pause as she diligently takes notes. “My favorite person, of course, is Simon.”
“Makes sense,” she says. “All right, I have a few more.”
“What’s your favorite flower and your favorite food?”
“Ooh, that’s a tough one since so many flowers are pretty. But, if I had to pick, I think I’d say lilacs. They’re beautiful, and they smell nice.”
Her brow furrows, and her mouth twists for a few seconds.
“Hmm, I don’t know that one.”
“They grow on bushes and are usually purple. I could smell them all day and not get sick of it.”
“Okay, and your favorite food…”
“Oh, that’s easy. Cobbler. Peach, blackberry, it doesn’t matter.”
“I’ve never had cobbler, either,” she says.
“Well, I’ll have to make it for you some time.” Her eyes widen, and she grins. “Or you can come over, and you can help me make it.”
“Really? I could practice cooking?” Her smile widens.
“You could. It would be fun.”
“It’s a date.” She grins, then taps her notebook with her pen. “Okay, now let’s get back to my report.”
The interview continues through the rest of our pedicure, while Georgie catches up with the latest small-town gossip from Ruthie. When the pedicure is almost over, Layla closes her notebook and smiles.
“I think that’ll do it. If I have more questions, I’ll call you or come over. Okay?”
“Uh, sure. Just let me know. You know, we should have a day where you and Simon hang out and play together. Maybe—”
“Ooh! Yes, he could come to my farm! I could show him my chickens.”
I laugh at that. I’m not sure how Simon will feel about the chicken part, but she’s probably correct that it should be at her house, so they have more space to play.
“How about I call your mom to talk about it?”
“Sounds good to me,” Layla answers.
Georgie leans forward and looks around Layla.
“What are you doing the rest of the day?”
“Well, I’ve got a hot date with a dumpster and a bunch of ancient parquet flooring. Then I’ll probably shower and fall asleep reading.”
“Yuck. Do you want help?”
I love that she offers, but I’d prefer just me, my audiobook, and the satisfaction of accomplishing another task that brings me closer to opening my doors. In a place I own. A place no one can take from me.
A few minutes later, our toes are polished, and we head back to my place. It’s almost time for me to pick Simon up from day camp, but I can probably get a few more minutes of work in before I need to leave.
When they’ve dropped me off and pull away, it hits me how generously these wonderful people have accepted me into their friend group. It makes me think of losing Sylvia and Tyler.
Sylvia would have loved today, and she would adore Layla. I’m beyond certain she would have given Ruthie a run for her money, and they’d likely have become fast friends.
Screw the floor.
I grab my keys and head out back to hop into the car. I need to see him, my boy, and my reminder of Sylvia, Simon. Even if I have to wait for a while for him to get out of camp, at least I’ll be close.