Page 88 of Over the Edge

“You know me so well.” I keep my tone level. Evelyn and Quinn are still here, looking at me for directions. Directions I have no idea how to give because I feel like the wind’s been knocked out of me.

“Didn’t you get my texts this morning? I’ve been trying to call but you didn’t pick up,” she pouts and tilts her head so the others can also see.

“My phone is dead. There was a black out,” I explain.

“That’s so unlike you,” she chides in a tone that could be misconstrued as motherly. “He was so much more responsible than me. Did you know that this guy helped me with my taxes every year? I was so bad at it and he’d sit with me until we got it all figured out. I can only assume he got his brains from his father. That and his eyes.” She taps a finger against her temple so the others will note her blue eyes, ones that she loves to point out.

Lana is magnetic and she basks in it. She used to tell me she had a superpower, that she could get anyone to look at her by walking into a room. When I was a kid I believed it because it happened over and over. Before I knew better, it made me feel special to know someone so loved was my mother.

An errant breeze catches the door, slamming it against the wall. I’m half tempted to go back inside, close the door, and walk right back out. The same way I check the fridge sometimes expecting new food to appear.

“We’re about to get going,” Quinn says and gives me a look that hinges between concern and confusion.

“Ooo, where? A day trip?” Lana’s voice drips with interest.

“The berry farm,” I say.

“Barlowe’s? God, I loved that place, field trips, holidays, birthdays. It’s the place to visit, or at least, during the summer and fall,” Lana chimes her approval.

Quinn tries again. “Yeah, Oliver is in the car. Let’s not keep him waiting.”

“Are these all your friends? God, it’s so good to meet everyone. Girlfriend?” Lana asks and her eyes ping pong between Quinn and Evelyn then shoot to a sleeping Oliver, who is resting, unaware in the passenger seat. “Boyfriend?”

I can’t help but wonder if she actually knows I’m bisexual or is just guessing. Then there’s the embarrassment pattering against me, reminding me how little this woman knows me, but more so how little she seems to care.

“I’m the girlfriend,” Evelyn volunteers brightly.

Looking at her stokes the embers I haven’t been able to put out since last night. I’ve been avoiding her all morning because I’ve been scared of being alone in a room with her and having to hide how hard I get just remembering how she said my name last night. And I need to talk to her before I hear back from Holt about heading back to work after this weekend.

“Oh, you're gorgeous!” Lana then launches herself at Evelyn wrapping her in enthusiastic embrace. “How long have you been together? Months? Years? I want to know everything. I’ve never seen him with anyone before.”

“Can we get in the car, please?” Quinn cuts in again, seemingly as uncomfortable as I am.

“Great idea.” Lana nods, stepping away from Evelyn. Before any of us process what’s happening she’s opening the back door and sliding in. We all watch as Oliver startles awake then looks behind him to see a complete stranger in the backseat. After a moment he is caught in a conversation with her.

“Did she just…” Quinn asks, aghast.

“Invite herself? Yeah,” I answer as Quinn starts to march off the porch and to the SUV. “Fuck. I hate parents.”

Evelyn grabs my arm then pulls away, obviously not sure how to handle last night. I was hoping we could talk once I could think straight. Right now is not the time. I’m just hoping I will find a time before it’s too late. Before the weekend has gone by and I’m still making damned excuses. “We have room in the car, but do you want her here?”

“I’m not sure we’ll be able to get her out of the car until we get to the farm.”

“I can ask her to leave.”

“No, it's fine. I need to figure out why the hell she’s here.”

Also, now I don't particularly want to learn what lengths it will take to get her out of the car. At least I can ride the knowledge that people can’t help but get caught up in her whirlwind. Quinn still looks apprehensive when we reach the car, but I have no doubt she’ll flip within the next two hours.

“Your legs won’t fit,” Evelyn says as she moves in front of me to take the middle seat. From the look in her eyes, I can tell that she’s also doing it to give me the illusion of space.

Tension starts to build behind my temples and we haven’t even left the driveway.

“And I’m still not sure if the swamp guide was alluding that he dumped bodies there or that he knew people who did. Either way, after the trip he told me where to find the best Cajun food. If you’re ever in Louisiana, let me know and I’ll send you all the details,” Lana says animatedly. She’s been talking with her hands so much that Evelyn has to lean into me to avoid a collision.

From the driver’s seat, Quinn mutters something like, “I can think of one body I might need dumped.”

She throws me a glance through the rearview mirror that conveys the depth of her annoyance, which I answer with a nod. Between Quinn’s looks and Evelyn’s concern, I don’t feel completely adrift with Lana, though the close quarters of the car are less than ideal.

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