Page 143 of Lavender Lake
“Pee break,” Poet announced.
Hadley handed her a flashlight.
“Wyn, will you come with me?” Poet asked. “I’m not scared of the dark. I’m scared of the critters that live in the dark.”
“Sure.” Wyn moved the battery-operated lantern out of her way so she could unzip the tent flap. “We’re women. We go to the bathroom in groups. Even when camping.”
“Especiallywhen camping,” Poet said. “Because,nature.”
The two of them climbed out of the tent and I zipped up the flap behind them. Their footsteps faded into the distance.
I popped a piece of candy into my mouth while Hadley scooped up the cards. “This is fun,” she said.
“Yeah, it is.”
“In fact, I don’t know how my bachelorette party is going to top this. Speaking of … whatdoyou have planned for my bachelorette party?” she asked.
“Oh, I just thought this would suffice,” I teased. “So I’ve gone ahead and canceled the hookers and blow for your actual party.”
She grinned.
I laughed. “I’m not telling you what I have planned.”
“Do Wyn and Poet know?”
“Nope. It’s going to be a complete and utter surprise.”
Wyn and Poet returned to the tent and by tacit agreement we put the cards away and I began to divvy up my candy winnings equally between the girls.
“So, let’s talk about boys,” Hadley said.
“What about them?” Wyn asked.
“Any of them on the horizon?” Hadley asked.
“The only man in my life is the little boy I nanny for,” Wyn said. “But I’m thinking about seeing a male therapist. Would that count?”
“You’re joking. Aren’t you?” I asked.
“About the therapist? Yes. But I was trying to evade the line of questioning,” Wyn said. “Was it effective?”
“So, no men for Wyn,” I said. “Poet?”
“None for me either,” she said, her brow furrowing. She glanced around for her bottle of cider, found it, and took a long drink.
The three of us looked at each other, and then waited.
“I’ve been lying to you guys for years,” Poet said. Her eyes were wide behind her glasses. “And I think it’s time I come clean.”
“You can tell us,” Hadley said gently.
“You’ll judge me,” Poet lamented.
“No,” Wyn said. “We won’t.”
I gently pressed the bottle of cider to Poet’s mouth and urged her to take another drink.
She downed another healthy swallow, took a deep breath, and blurted out, “I’m a virgin.”
