Page 60 of Lightness In My Dark

WREN

Lindsey had become such a good friend. She was easy-going and made the Christmas holiday extra special. We hadn’t gone out together, just the two of us, so we made a day of it. First a manicure, and then lunch. I met her at the spa in Princeview, which was part of my Christmas gift. A fancy waiting room with large, white leather chairs and bloated pillows. A woman brought us a glass of Pinot Grigio while we waited.

“I love that outfit, Wren. It’s so you.”

I glanced down at it. “Thanks. You’re sweet, always complimenting my outfits. I couldn’t ignore the colors.” I gave her a once over. “And what about you? I’ve never not seen you put together. I need fashion tips. You’re always so classy.”

She snorted at my comment. My mouth dropped open at her response and I let out a snort, slapping her leg. This captured the other women’s attention in the waiting area. Their frowns said it all. Or maybe they had something stuck in their butt. For some wealthy women, one never knew if hemorrhoids or lack of food prompted their scowls.

Soon a little woman with a slight hump on her upper back came for us. She smiled with a bow and shuffled to the manicure room. Introduced as Sally, her paisley dress swished from below the calves, flowing as she walked. Her long, slender fingers, nails painted a purple and blue paisley, pointed toward two large, cushioned chairs. Two other women came into the room, bowed, and spoke to us about the manicure: a hand massage with warm towels and then the nails.

They had pushed a cart between us. There was an array of nail polish colors. Lindsey and I inspected almost every bottle until I settled on honeycomb, and she chose a cherry. The women began the massages.

“How have things been going with you and Finn? From what I saw last, it appears to be better than before.”

“Undeniably better. We spend a lot of time together. I went to the gym with him. The one he’s been going to since his teens.” My muscles ached from the planted smile I wore.

Lindsey gave my arm a slight squeeze. “I’m glad. He’s a good guy, but I felt bad he wasn’t treating you right. Finn has a hard time connecting with his feelings. It’s a struggle for him.”

“Yeah. We’ve talked about it, and he’s improved. Still reserved about romantic notions.”

She bit her lip as her eyebrow rose. “Romantic notions? I guess this whole charade is more than that.”

I glanced at the women and back at her, indicating they could hear.

She whispered, “Okay, I’ll keep it down. Do you have feelings for him?”

In a dreamlike state, looking toward the wall, I said, “Yes. He’s changed from when we first met. There’s so much to Finn.” I sighed. “Not only is he gorgeous, but he’s done some pretty sweet things for me.” I told her about when I got sick in my bed and the bathroom, and he took care of me.

“Aw, how sweet. That’s Finn. He takes care of people he cares for. You’re important to him. And not because of you know… I can tell by his attitude. The way he looks at you.”

“Like I’m dinner?”

We both started snorting again. “Stop it! No… well, maybe, but also because he likes you as a person. I’ve heard him talking to Carter. He says nice things about you. Carter had teased him regarding his interest, and Finn responded with a,” —she lowered her voice— “fuck you.” Her voice returned to normal. “It’s his way of deflecting the truth.”

The hand massage lulled my head toward the headrest, and I closed my eyes. The only sounds were the whirl of a fan in the room and the slopping of oil on my hands. Lindsey’s admission about Finn had me thinking about the times I caught him staring at me. His garish grins when he had smut on his mind. My body warmed to the fact I affected him. I went from not wanting him to touch me to wanting all of him. Since the year began, we did a full swing in the other direction. Sexual intentions aside, Finn and I had grown to enjoy each other’s company. Laughter and plenty of flirting.

The woman clipped my musings by wrapping hot towels around my hands and then slipped out of the room.

Lindsey asked, “Any thoughts on lunch?”

“Not really. What do you have a taste for?”

“Anything fattening. For some reason, I’ve been craving a cheeseburger.”

“There’s Fat Sam’s. It’s a bar and restaurant. The food is good.” Lindsey agreed.

With soft hands and colored nails, we got situated across from each other in a corner booth at Fat Sam’s. Grease drifted from the kitchen. I ordered water. One drink in the afternoon was enough. Lindsey wanted an alcohol-free beer. We scoured the menu, which had a substantial selection of appetizers and bar food, and then placed our orders. I read the advertisements on the paper placemat, folding the edges to buy some time before broaching the subject that had been bothering me.

Lindsey took a sip of her beer and asked, “You look nervous. What’s up?”

I gave a timid shrug. “I have a lot on my mind.”

“Spill.”

“It’s embarrassingly personal.” My eyes roamed the room to avoid her stare.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She paused and then said, “You don’t have to, but I’m here if you want to.”

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