Page 66 of Where Love Lies

With every good thing that happens, something bad trails closely behind it, to test your strength and mind, because when I open Heston’s text, it’s him yelling at me in all caps.

Heston: THIS IS NOT OVER. YOU NEED ME. PAIGE NEEDS ME. You owe me!

I owe him?

The more this goes on, the more determined I am to stay away from him. I feel so stupid for falling in love with him, for moving so fast. Now that we’re apart, I can admit I didn’t want to be alone, that the thought of being in this new place without my mother or anyone but my daughter was terrifying, but I did care about Heston. We became friends, he made me smile, so much so I overlooked little red flags. But who I was sleeping next to was not who I thought he was.

Dressing in a red strapless top and my favorite pair of blue jeans, I head to the bathroom to look for a hair tie to pull my hair up. Looking in the mirror, I notice dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep. Using my index finger, I swipe as close to my eyelid as I can, curious if what I’m seeing it just me or if it’s really there. I can’t tell and it’s too hot to put concealer on. My eyes fall to my makeup bag, the end of a mascara sticking out. I grab it and apply it, my lashes doubling in thickness and making my eyes bolder. If I had any dark circles, you can’t really tell now.

Somewhat satisfied, I drop the makeup back in the bag and go find Tenly to see what she needs me to do.

35

It’s hot, the mid-summer sun shines down on everyone who’s outside, helping Tenly in the middle of the afternoon. The smell of the BBQ grill makes my stomach growl, and I look to see if Rhodes is over there. He’s messing with the grill, wearing no shirt, and those damn jeans that outline his ass so well. His dirty boots so different than the Hey Dudes, or Ralph Lauren’s, men out here usually wear.

“Rain, I need you to put one of these on your house somewhere?” My attention’s now on Tenly, as she heads my way with her hands full of American flags colored bunter banners.

She shoves one in my hands; she’s out of breath and barely able to hang on to the unorganized mess in she’s holding.

I watch her go to the next person, Owen, who begins to argue with her.

“Mom!” Paige’s voice takes me away from the commotion, Paige walking my way with her arms crossed. She’s wearing jean shorts, a blue top that is airy and flows down her shoulders, with a pair of flip-flops.

“Do you need any help?” she asks, and I hand her the decorations Tenly gave me.

“Here, put this up somewhere.”

Taking it, she looks it over, unsure of what it even is.

“Paige! Paige!” We both look up to see Layla waving in our direction. She’s wearing a black strappy shirt, with dark as night baggy jeans and chunky shiny boots. But what’s really catching is her parents are outside with her. I didn’t think they would participate, seeing as they don’t do anything with any of the neighbors.

Layla’s dad, Earl, is pale and balding, his belly robust and nearly popping through his striped button-up shirt. His wife, Melanie, is in a flowery blue tie-dye dress, her dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail. She’s pretty, her face clear of any blemishes, eyes wide and beautiful.

Paige turns on her heel and heads toward Layla. Not knowing when I’ll have another chance to meet Melanie, I head in that direction too.

“Hi, it’s so good to see you guys!” I say, with so much energy you’d think I was a kindergarten teacher. This place has really done a number on me, because if someone came up to me, the way I just did, I’d think you we’re trying to sell me something.

“We always try to make an appearance at these things,” she says, glancing over at her husband for backup.

“Yeah, but we like to stay to ourselves. Less drama that way,” he clips, and although he comes off as an asshole, I totally get what he’s saying.

The twins, dressed in red shirts and shorts, come laughing and running between us; they’re so cute but definitely look like trouble. I don’t know how Melanie does it with four kids; I can barely keep up with Paige.

“Sorry about that,” Melanie mutters with irritation, “they are like little Wreck-It Ralphs.”

“Little shits more like it.” A tall boy that resembles Melanie grumbles from behind her. The oldest son I assume, he looks to be a little older than Paige and Layla, but he’s not dressed in all-black like his sister. He’s wearing a baggy shirt with an image of a rapper on it, baggy shorts with long socks and some Air Jordans.

“Excuse me?” Melanie whispers, turning her back on me and pointing her finger at her son while muttering at him.

“That’s our son, Kingston,” Earl says, placing his hands in his pockets, his fingers jumbling some change around while he looks out amongst everyone scrambling to get everything together for the party.

With a fake smile on my face, I nod. Feeling like it’s time to walk away, I say, “Well, it was nice meeting you. I better get back and see what Tenly wants me to do next.”

“Ugh, Tenly,” Earl grumbles, his voice trailing off.

Turning around, I chew on my cheek, thinking over everything I just encountered. The mother seems normal, but that’s about it.

I go to Owen and Flynn’s table, and it’s covered in a flowery cloth with two big jugs of lemonade and mason jars on each side with flowers inside them. Thirsty myself I grab a cup and begin to pour myself some.

---