Page 75 of Friendshipped
“Oh. I did?” she asks, looking around without lifting her head.
Her face looks content with a soft smile and her eyes drooping just the slightest bit.
“Let’s get you inside and into bed,” I say.
“M’kay,” she says. “Into my bed though.”
She’s still out of it, obviously.
“Yes,” I say. “Your bed.”
She rolls over and drapes her arm over me and burrows into me with her eyes closed. Then she mumbles into my chest. “I don’t wanna get up.”
This woman. She’s going to be the death of me. But, what a way to die.
“You have to get up,” I say, reluctantly wriggling away from her.
When her arm flops onto the ground, she wakes more fully.
“Okay,” she says, slowly sitting up and then standing to brush herself off even though she isn’t dirty.
I grab the blanket, ball it in my arms and follow Lexi through my home to my front entrance.
She turns to me. “Thanks for always being my soft place to land, Trev.”
“Always,” I say, my throat feeling thick. “Goodnight, Lex.”
She says goodnight and I watch her make it inside her half of our home.
27
Lexi
Well, that went well.
I wake, rubbing the sand out of my eyes and thinking back on my date with Eddie. I vaguely remember a dream of being chased around a restaurant by a toupee. Not a man in a toupee, just the toupee. And, oh yeah! Trevor was chasing the toupee with his loppers like he was going to give it a haircut.
I shouldn’t be surprised the date went south. Apparently, for me, even going on a blind double date inevitably turns into a night when I need rescuing.
I roll over and hug my pillow. It’s the Fourth of July, so even though it’s a Friday, I have the day off. I plan to rest and relax until I have to rouse myself out of bed to go to the parade midmorning.
Everyone comes out for the annual Fourth of July parade. It’s the time of year we crown Miss Corn Husk. And, surprise, surprise, this year it’s Ella Mae Lindstrom, Meg’s best friend.
Ella Mae actually has been Miss Corn Husk for as long as I can remember with the exception of one year when she had a summer flu and Rosie White got her chance at the coveted crown since Ella Mae was reportedly hurling up everything she’d eaten in the last week.
If you ask me, or pretty much anyone else in town, the competition is rigged. Jimmy Shaller had a thing for Ella Mae since high school and his mom sits on the committee for the Fourth of July festivities. You put two and two together.
It’s not like I want to be Miss Corn Husk, even if I could be. The mere thought of the costume gives me hives. It’s the principle of the thing. Everyone should have an equal chance at winning.
And, yes, I took extra pleasure when it looked like Ella Mae scratched her way down the parade route last year. Her hands went in a pattern: wave from the wrist, wave from the wrist, pause, scratch … and repeat. I’m sure she was pulling corn silk out of unmentionable places for days afterward.
I’m snuggling my pillow when a knock comes through the wall from Trevor’s bedroom to mine. The paper-thin construction of our walls makes it so we can basically speak loudly to one another if we have anything to say.
“Are you up?” he shouts.
“I am now,” I answer, sitting and stretching before I stand.
“I made cinnamon rolls. I thought I’d bring some over.”
