“This isn’t about me and Greta. There is nothing but friendship between me and Greta.”
“Are you sure about that? Because it’s pretty obvious there is to everyone else.”
Willa levels me with a hard stare. “I’m positive.”
We glare at each other for a long moment and I debate whether or not I should call her out on her lie. I’ve seen this expression from Willa before, not often, but I know now is definitely not the time to push her.
“OK,” I say.
She visibly relaxes and releases a sharp exhale. She pats the bed next to her, and opens her arms. “Come here.”
I lie down next to her and she wraps me up in a hug. “God, you smell like sex.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not. How did you leave it with Toni?”
“Um, I didn’t really. She left early to go snowshoeing, of all things.”
“After having sex all night?”
“I know. But, last night, before, we agreed to have fun and take things slow.”
“She agreed to that?”
“Well, yeah. She said she would take me however she could get me.”
“Hmm,” Willa says, watching me. “I hope she meant it.”
So do I.
I take a shower and then go downstairs to meet Willa for coffee. We aren’t the first ones up, of course. Willa is in the kitchen, washing dishes, while Ingrid potters around cooking. Greta is sitting at the kitchen table on her computer, her hair up, and her business face on.
“Merry Christmas Eve,” I say.
Everyone greets me, though Greta’s eyes don’t leave her computer.
I go to her. “Everything OK?”
She looks up, and I realize her eyes were unfocused, not really seeing her computer. “Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine.”
“Here’s some coffee, Auds,” Willa says. She puts the mug on the table. “Want a refresh, Greta?”
“No, thank you.”
Willa sips her coffee and turns to me. “It’s ornament day. Decided what you’re going to do?”
“I picked up a rock yesterday and Toni said she’d punch a hole in it for me.”
“What do you usually do, Greta?” Willa asks.
“Popcorn garland,” she says.
“Sounds good, I’ll help,” Willa says. “And by help, I mean I’ll hold the bowl, eat the popcorn, and watch you.”
“It’s just plain popcorn,” Greta says.
“You don’t make festive-colored caramel popcorn?”