Huddle
“Youknowwhatyouneed, Haley? You need a rebound. Some fantastic sex with no strings attached.” Trace shoved in her last bite of pastry and waggled her eyebrows.
Slapping her knee, setting her coffee down before she spilled it all over her lap, Haley’s laugh erupted at the suggestion. “Wow, I missed you. We’ve been back together, what, twenty minutes? And you’re already making me laugh.”
When Trace had walked in her door, they’d jumped up and down and hugged and cried like the dorks they’d been so long ago. No weirdness, they dove right in like no time had passed.
Trace rolled her eyes, grinning wickedly. “I’m not kidding. You’re this bungled mess of repression and vivacity. Take all the time you need to find yourself again, but I’m thinking a little fun will help.”
“Hmm. Fantastic sex.” Haley scanned the forest ahead. “I’m not sure I remember what that’s like. It’s been over six months since Nate even looked at me. And probably even longer since I looked at him.” They sat on Trace’s picnic blanket on Haley’s flagstone patio, comfortable despite the loose gravel and twigs digging into their butts, as she had yet to invest in a broom. “I’ve had about every STD test done in the book. Clean slate.”
“See? You need great, safe sex to get your mind off of cheating-bastard Nate. You’ve got your work cut out for you fixing this place up, but you’ll need other outlets. Not that I’m one to talk.”
“I’ll work on that.”
Trace raised her coffee in salute. “Consider it your assignment for the summer. When I get back, I’d better hear some salacious stories.”
Laughing her ass off, Haley air toasted, her coffee sloshing from the motion. “I’m not sure about salacious, but I will do my utmost. And same goes for you. I mean, I’m assuming you’re single as you sound like you are.”
“Sadly, yes. I think I’m pushing you to have a carefree rebound because I suck at relationships. I think my expectations are always too high.”
“That’s not a thing. Expectations, yeah, watch out for those if you expect someone to be whatyouwant them to be. But, well, and this may sound crazy, but I worked my ass off to keep Nate happy, all the while ignoring myself. Maybe you shouldn’t settle for anyone that doesn’t raise you up, make you feel more yourself, while not sacrificing your own happiness.”
Trace shifted her wild strawberry blond waves out of her face as the breeze kicked up. “I think I just want to be swept off my feet.”
“Then consider your assignment to be open to a ravenous sweeping.”
Draining the last of her coffee, Trace shrugged. “I will do my utmost. Now, Foothills doesn’t have great selection, but Grady knows everyone and should be able to give you the run-down of eligible bachelors.”
“I’m not asking my brother to help me with a hook-up.” Imagine Grady’s face? He’d been a great support since she’d first called to say her marriage was over and that she was coming home, but this would be out of his comfort zone.
“Fair point.”
Swallowing the last of her cheesy pastry, Haley rose to her feet and held out a hand for Trace. “Come on and tell me how awful my house looks.”
Giggling, Trace accepted the hoist up. “The patio has promise.” They walked in the sliding glass door that led to the great room. Dusty, mucky, grimy. “I can see where you’ve got work to do.”
“I have carpet installers coming tomorrow with samples and to take measurements. After coughing up dust balls accumulated from two nights of sleeping on the bedroom dust bowl of a carpet, I prioritized flooring.” She went to slide a box out of the way, but her low back spasmed in the movement. Groaning, she grabbed the aching muscle but threw out her shoulder in the process. “This remodel, or even cleaning stuff, isn’t for wimps. I’m so sore. I’ve never cleaned like this before. Scrubbing tile and showers and toilets and even walls… That shit’s harder than it looks.”
Trace nodded, looking around at the shining kitchen tile, tidy fireplace, and not-dusty floors. “Seriously? I mean, it’s a lot all at once, but have you never…? Oh, wait, you probably hadstaff.” She drew out with a pretentious nasal accent, then giggled it off. “I know you had money growing up, but that asshole you married must have been loaded.”
She shrugged, but it pinched her neck and she winced. “Pretty much. Half the reason for my parents’ divorce was Dad’s promotion, so my inheritance alone, I was set up for life. Now Nate and my finances are so convoluted with our combined investments and accounts, dragging this divorce on so much longer than it should.”
“I’m so sorry. When will it be finalized?”
“Six weeks and two days. But who’s counting?”
“Do you have to fly down there?”
“Well, if all goes smoothly, no. But I have little doubt we’ll need to meet with the mediator again, so probably. I mean, every time I think we have it all nailed down, he counters. When you balance out my inheritance but I never worked because he needed a wife to entertain and ‘support him,’ then Nate’s income and our mutual investments, the house, I’d rather just call it even. I could get nasty about him, well, sleeping with everyone, but I just want it over.”
Hobbling into the kitchen, Haley tossed their garbage under the sink.
Trace threw her head back in laughter as she watched her friend. “This house is so different from what I remember. But you’re just the same.”
“The same? What about all that repression you just pinned on me?”
“Okay, so the same under that stifling outer layer. You’re snarky and dive into a problem without fuss. You won’t nickel and dime or gripe and groan where you could and probably should. And this disaster of a house. For a woman that spent the last decade ‘entertaining’ and ‘supporting,’ you’ve taken on a huge undertaking that few professionals would even consider. And, you’ll probably make a profit on it. I saw your blog; you must have a huge following.”
