Page 63 of About Last Night

“You’re perfect,” Toni whispers.

My instinct is to deflect, to disagree. Instead, I let the compliment sit for a moment. When I decide what to say, we hear Greta yelling at us to come eat.

Toni and I sigh. I remove my hand from beneath her sweater and zip up her coat, while she zips mine.

“Maybe,” I say.

“Maybe you’re perfect?” Toni teases.

“Oh, no. I’m perfect. And if you play your cards right, maybe I’ll come to your room tonight.”

I know it’s not a good idea, but I crave the intimacy we had that night, lying next to each other, hands barely touching, and talking. I hadn’t had that with Shae in a long time, maybe never. Vulnerability isn’t her strong suit. Hell, it’s not typically mine, either. But Toni isn’t afraid to put herself out there and tell me exactly what she wants. She thinks I’m worth waiting for. She’s amazing, and I want to show her how much I want her.

The happy smile on Toni’s face is a sight to behold. I grab her hand and pull her along back toward the house. I stop at the edge of the creek. I bend down and pick up a small gray rock with a white line slashed diagonally through it. I hold it in the palm of my hand and turn it over. It’s cold and wet and smooth.

“I’m not punching a hole through that,” Toni says.

I push my mouth out in a small pout.

“Oh my God, fine,” she says as if it’s the biggest imposition in the world, though happiness is written all over her face.

CHAPTER TWENTY

TONI

“I never thought I’d watch my husband and oldest daughter flirt with the same woman,” Mom muses.

We sip our mulled wine and watch Audrey, Willa, Greta, and Dad decorate the tree it took us two hours to find. It normally takes us about twenty minutes. Years of tree picking has taught us that unless it’s a Charlie Brown tree, you can hide any sort of hole with the back wall, lights, and a few of my pinecone ornaments. Willa and Audrey were determined to find the perfect tree for the house and were just as determined to pay for it as a thank you for including them in the holidays. To my surprise, Dad agreed, but not until he’d argued with them a fair bit. When he saw their enthusiasm for something that we’d long taken for granted, and saw how happy the search made them, he relented.

Now it’s cold and snowing outside, there’s a huge fire in the hearth, Mom’s creamy chicken lasagna is in the oven, I’m sitting on the sofa with Mom, drinking mulled wine, and watching my entire family fall in love with the Adams sisters. My dad is especially taken with Willa and her upbeat personality. My mom is drawn to Audrey’s quiet confidence and her occasional silly side. The five of them have been talking about the new foundation for most of the day. It’s turning into a Big Deal.

“Audrey and I noticed the flirting a couple of weeks ago. Greta and Willa. I almost chalked it up to two super lesbians assuming everyone else is secretly a lesbian,” I say.

Mom chuckles. “I haven’t seen Greta ever this relaxed around anyone. The way she lets Willa tease her is something else.”

“I know, right? She barely smiles and that somehow eggs on Willa even more.”

“Greta wouldn’t be nearly as good at flirting with her if she was trying.”

“Well, I’m not about to even hint at it because she’ll clam up. I really like this version of her.”

Mom looks at me. “She’s always been there, Toni. You just couldn’t see past your jealousy.”

It hurts, a little, hearing that truth so brutally relayed by my mom. But, she’s not wrong. “I know.”

Mom’s eyes widen and her brows rise. “What?”

“You’re right. Though I’m not sure jealousy is the word. I just always wanted her to notice me. To appreciate me. She never did, so I acted like a brat to her and about her.”

“Well, Greta’s like me. We’re better at being critical than complimentary, but that doesn’t mean we don’t talk behind your back about how wonderful you are.”

I give my mom a sidelong look and, sure enough, she’s joking. I play along, though, because there is probably more truth in it than she’s willing to admit. “It would be nice if you would say it to my face.”

“From what I hear, Greta has,” Mom says.

“So, you do talk about me behind my back,” I bristle.

“We talk business behind your back. But that’s going to change from now on. You’ll be part of the conversation. She told you how critical your plans are.”

---