Page 19 of The Lodge

My phone buzzes on the bathroom counter, just once: a text.

Please be Sebastian.Please.

I’ve been soaking for so long my hot water is verging on lukewarm,thanks to how totally and completely absorbed I got in the novel I brought with me. It’s a rom-com, a grumpy-sunshine set in summer, in Venice, and I’ve just reached the part where the love interest finally shows the first hint of vulnerability.

I toss the book over onto the fluffy white bathmat by the sink, safe from any water I might splash on the way out, and towel off before tugging on my softest joggers and a longline bralette.

I take one look at my phone and groan.

It’s Lauren.

SOS, ALIX! CALL MEEEEE

Honestly, I can’t believe it’s taken her this long—Lauren is not the most self-sufficient person in the world, to put it kindly. It started the day she was born and never really changed: she arrived several weeks early and the entire vibe in our family for the next few years wasLauren is fragile. Everything revolved around her, and everyone just got used to everything revolving around her, even after she left those years behind.

Once Ian and I were in college, Lauren really was the center of my parents’ universe. You can’t entirely blame her for expecting the world to revolve around her given how consistently it has for her entire life. You also can’t blame her for not knowing how to deal with her problems on her own—my parents fought every battle for her. I’m sure they thought they were doing her a favor.

I am the black sheep in so many ways, not least in that I refuse to treat Lauren like the fragile little kid she once was. She’s an adult now, and from our countless conversations over the last several weeks, I suspect there are good instincts buried under her insecurities—I just wish she’d learn to trust them.

I wait a few minutes, long enough to communicate that she can’t just snap her fingers and expect me to drop everything to be her therapist, and then call her back.

She picks up on the first ring.

“This has been theworstday, Alix, you will not even believe it.”

Nohello, nohow are you?—just the beginning of what is certain to be a half-hour monologue about the drama du jour at the museum.

I put her on speakerphone and listen as well as I can. In her defense, it really does sound like a terrible day: coworker drama with someone she considered a friend, impossible expectations from one of her bosses, and a guy who tried to feel her up on the subway.

“Lauren,” I say when I’m finally able to get a word in. “It’s going to be okay.Youare going to be okay. Okay?”

Part of me is tempted to try and fix everything for her like my parents do—I’m not heartless. I just believe it’ll be better for her in the long run if she can learn how to navigate her problems on her own.

“What do Ido, Alix?”

“What doyouthink you should do?” I hate how patronizing my voice sounds, but thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice.

She lets out a long, dramatic sigh. “Give up and move to Antarctica where there are no other humans to deal with?”

“First of all, therearehumans who live in Antarctica,” I reply. “But I’ve heard the penguins are pretty cliquey—and you hate snow, remember?”

She laughs: mission accomplished.

I give in. I can at least try to point her in the right direction. “Have you talked with any of them about this stuff? Your friends—your boss?”

I already know the answer—Lauren is the most conflict-averse person I’ve ever met in my life—but I had to ask.

“Ugh, no.”

“Well, I’d start there.”

She starts to protest, but I’m too distracted to hear what she says: a message notification dips down from the top of my screen.

Sebastian. Finally.

in tahiti right now, time zones are brutal, major jet leg. i’ll call u in an hour

His use of the letterustabs me in the eye, but I remind myself that’s one reasonI’mwriting his book and not him. I’m just glad to finally have confirmation that he’s still alive and still planning to contribute to the project.

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