Page 16 of His Build

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Page 16 of His Build

Lucy gathered up the pieces of glass and threw them and her supper in the garbage. She was too unsettled to eat, anyway.

* * *

The next morningLucy woke up determined to spend the weekend practicing self-care.Looking after yourself first is a vital part of a fulfilling life. This was what she always told her clients—now was the perfect time to listen to her own advice. Stretching as she looked out onto the sparkling water, she knew how she wanted to start her Saturday off—with a swim. Her phone said it was only sixty degrees out, but she’d swum in worse. Growing up, she and Sadie had sometimes jumped in the local lake as early as April.

After breakfast, Lucy hit the only store in Barkley Falls that appeared to sell swimsuits.Debbie’s Placelooked like it hadn’t been updated since the 1980s. The styles hadn’t been updated since then either. Sadie would have a field day if she saw which swimsuit Lucy settled on—it was bright red and covered in hibiscus flowers, with a skinny pink string that tied around the neck and a flouncy frill rimming the whole bottom. It was the most basic suit she could find (and that said a lot about Debbie’s). Lucy had patted her hips in the dressing room mirror—she was fuller than the average swimsuit model by a long shot. But the frill, though a bit clownish, was kind of flattering.

When she got back to the motel, Lucy pulled on the suit and headed down to the lake before she could talk herself out of it. She wished Sadie were with her—she’d always been braver with her little sister around. She’d call her when she got out.

Lucy bit back a shriek as she hit the water—it was freezing, but the feeling of her zinging skin once she climbed out was exhilarating. She ran back to her room to dry off and call Sadie.

“I can’t believe it’s only been a week!” Lucy said once she reached her.

“Nine days, but who’s counting?” Sadie said.

“Sorry, Sade. This is the first day I’ve had to relax, to be honest.”

Lucy dove into detail about the house—everything from its situation on the lake to Iwa Miyazaki. She assured Sadie the people on the construction site were actually decent—unlike their shared memories of Stan and his sites twenty years ago.

“The motel I’m staying at is right on the lake, too. I’m going to get super fit swimming laps every morning. I’ll probably go on a strict no sugar, no dairy cleanse and…”

Sadie snorted on the other end of the phone, and Lucy did too. Then they both devolved into giggles. If there was one thing Lucy loved, besides helping people hit their goals and having a perfectly ordered life just for herself, it was decadent food and drink. She had always counted that as a filled checkbox on the side of living her own true life’s purpose.

“So you’re really doing okay out there in the country?” Sadie asked.

Lucy frowned. “You know, I don’t hate being out of the city.”

“Oh really!”

“I don’t!” she laughed.

“You wanted nothing more than to get out of Coombes when you were eighteen. You left me there for two years with Mom and her dude du jour after Stan. God, what was his name?”

“Don’t make me think about it. But it wasn’t the country that made me leave. That was the only good part about our childhood—you and me playing in the fields and down by the creek. Remember?”

“Of course I remember.” Sadie said, sighing. “I’m looking up at your photograph right now.”

Lucy had done her condo up in something she liked to think of as ‘bringing nature into the city’. Wood furniture, earthy tones, and plants galore. But the centerpiece was a giant photo that spanned the wall in the living room. It was a glowing golden-light photo of a dappled-sun meadow speckled with wildflowers, and blue sky stretching overhead. It was the kind of meadow you’d want to run through singing. The photographer called itHome,even though there wasn’t a building in sight. Lucy had snapped it up the moment she saw it in the gallery.

“I love the country,” Sadie said. “I just don’t see a way for me to make a living out there.”

As a life coach, Lucy knew where there was a will, there was a way. If Sadie actually listened to her and started setting some clear and time-measured goals, she could do whatever she wanted. But as a big sister who’d doled out way too much unsolicited advice over the years, she held her tongue.

“Besides,” Sadie continued. “No small town guy can handle Sadie Fulham.”

“You’re probably right,” Lucy laughed. “Although, no big city guy seems to be able to handle you either.”

“Speaking of which, you donotwant to hear about what Cliff did last night.”

There was an extended pause as Lucy tried to think of some way to tell Sadie her latest boyfriend, like all the boyfriends before him, was a terrible waste of her sister’s time. When Sadie had dragged Lucy out to lunch to meet him a few weeks ago he’d been visibly checking out the server’s low-cut blouse. Lucy had nearly tossed her water in the guy’s face, but she’d made a promise to Sadie that she’d make no judgments.

“Of course I do,” Lucy said. She’d indulge Sadie like she always did and try to insert some sense into her like she always did. She knew “How about not dating anyone?” wouldn’t fly with Sadie, so she usually tried things like “How about getting to know him first?” Or “How about a quiet guy?”

It never really worked. Besides, as Sadie detailed what had happened the night before, which, if you plugged in a different name and a different restaurant could have been about any of Sadie’s previous boyfriends, Lucy realized she didn’t have the energy to give Sadie any more advice that wouldn’t be taken.

“I’m sorry,” was all Lucy could muster. And she meant it. “How’s the apartment?” she asked, as a way to divert the conversation away from Cliff.

“Well, I met the famous Mrs. Devonshire, but she didn’t exactly meet me.”


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