Page 63 of Friendshipped
“Me and Shannon?” I ask, purposely deflecting.
“You and your bestie,” she says. “I wish one of you would push through it and make something happen already.”
Cardinal Rule: never discuss your crush with her girlfriends. I learned this in junior high when friend after friend made this fatal mistake and ended up in the middle of the most emotionally wringing game of telephone for weeks. They’d trade secretive reports in the lunchroom like,She likes you, but she likes Steve Buttermeyer more.
And, no offense to Steve, but with that last name, someone’s going to have to love him a lot more to marry him.
I ignore Laura’s bait and say, “I’m going to be out by the car. Can I take the towels for you?”
“You’re no fun, Trevor,” Laura says. “Completely no fun.”
She hands me the towels. I walk out before she corners me into admitting my feelings for Lexi.
Lexi seems a bit reserved on the drive to the reservoir. I hope I didn’t overstep by goofing around with her earlier. My least favorite thing is when our relationship gets off kilter or uncomfortable. It’s so rare that we’re not our completely unguarded selves around one another.
When we arrive at the reservoir, people fill the shoreline. Children run everywhere, some with popsicles, some draped in towels. Families sit on chairs or blankets talking with friends and neighbors. It’s a familiar scene, like coming home.
I catch sight of Rob sitting with my brother-in-law, Dane, while my sister Karina runs in and out of the water with my four-year old-niece, Ashley, and my five-year-old nephew Sawyer.
Karina’s twenty-nine. She’s my family’s version Felicia. You should have seen the two of them run our neighborhood when we were all younger. They called the shots and the rest of us learned to go with their flow.
Karina and her husband Dane got married out of college, landed great jobs—Karina in real estate and Dane working on computers. They bought a house, an SUV and a sports car, and have two adorable children and a labradoodle named Moose. I can’t help but envy their happily ever after when mine seems so elusive.
Rob stands up and clasps my hand. Then he turns and leans in to give Laura a hug, and even though her response is stiff, I swear she lingers long enough to inhale him. I’m totally going to bring that up as soon as I’m able. Or, maybe I won’t. Yeah. I won’t.
We set up our chairs and blankets and then I sit with Dane and Rob while the women run into the water together. My eyes remain on Lexi the whole time even though I’m talking to Dane and Rob. Eventually the three women find a spot away from splashing children where only their heads and the slightest bit of shoulders show over the water level. Lexi looks over at me with a shy grin and a wave that settles my earlier concern but stirs something else.
“Your captivation is showing. You might want to tuck that in,” Rob says.
“Yeah,” I say. Shaking my head and rejoining the conversation with Dane. He’s asking Rob about the latest contraption—the mission squirrel maze, as it’s been named.
Rob becomes uncharacteristically animated whenever he talks about his inventions.
“Dude! You should have seen Bond trying to figure his way through the ducts leading to a miniature rope ladder,” he tells us. “He hit the impasse three times. Backed all the way up. Stopped and then it was like you could see his thought process. He was like,Wait a minute.Wait a stinking minute. And he turned back, busted through the barrier and was the first one to make it up the rope ladder. The rest of the squirrels followed suit then. I tell you, Bond’s a natural born leader.”
Dane laughs hard. “Man, you are one dedicated squirrel … what are you a squirrel what?”
“I’m only the mastermind behind this course. I place peanuts and walnuts along the way to entice them to press on, but it’s all them. They figure their way through and it’s amazing to watch.”
“I have to come see this,” Dane says. “I’ll bring the kids. They’ll love it! And you name the squirrels?”
“Yeah. They have distinguishing traits, so I named them: Bond, Fritz, Klaus, Big Ben, Gertie, and Natalia.”
“After Black Widow?” I ask.
“Of course,” Rob answers. “She’s my dream girl.”
“Good luck with that,” Dane says.
“Not Scarlett Johansen,” Rob clarifies. “Black Widow. I love a woman who can hold her own and kick the butts of an entire army.”
I look over at the water.
“Laura might qualify,” I say quietly.
Rob momentarily stills. Dane looks between the two of us. “Speaking of dream girls, I think I’m going to join your sister and my children on the floating obstacle course to give them something to be embarrassed about.”
“Sounds just right,” I say, debating what I’m going to do about my dream girl.
