Page 41 of More Trouble
11
Willa
Two weeks later
“Thanks, Tori, all sounds good to me. Mr. and Mrs. Thomson, and of course, Violet, are you happy?” I grinned into the phone as we finished up the FaceTime call. The sweet sixteen party was finally coming to fruition.
“I’m so excited, Willa! Thank you! I can’t wait!” The blonde birthday girl practically bounced in her seat, all pretense of being a cool and sophisticated teenager cast aside.
“Yes, thank you, Willa,” Violet’s mother agreed. “It’s exactly what she wanted and we’re so glad you were able to talk us through everything.”
I smiled. “Sorry I couldn’t be there in person.” I glanced over my shoulder where Scarlett was curled up on the couch with a magazine. “Thank you for being so accommodating.”
We made a little small talk before finally ending the call; me promising to call Tori back later. I placed the phone down on the table with a relieved sigh. Talking on calls like that had never been my favorite thing. You couldn’t judge people’s reactions properly from hundreds of miles away and even though Tori was there in person, it was hard to tell what they were thinking. I was grateful the Gatsby themed party was beginning to come together. It was ambitious, but I was sure Tori would be able to handle it on her own.
“Do you want some tea?” I got up from the table and called out to Scarlett.
The small table and chairs in Scarlett’s living room had become my office over the past couple of weeks as I tried to run the business remotely. I was taking the occasional calls while organizing menus, seating plans, anything I could without actually being there in person. If I’d been able to cook and drive the food back, I would have. A four-hour drive wouldn’t have done anything for the food though.
Scarlett hated being seen out in a wheelchair and insisted we went out at certain times when too many people she knew wouldn’t be around.
In answer to my question, she tossed the magazine onto the cushion beside her. “Ugh. Really? More tea? When can I have wine? Or cocktails?”
“Soon, hon.” I laughed. “Like when the baby’s born.”
“That’s too long!” she wailed.
“You know what the doctor said; no stressful situations.”
“Oh, because that’s going to happen.” Her tone was sarcastic.
The funeral had been a few days ago. Keith and Patsy had finally made it back from Europe. Andre, Maddox, Lyla and I had taken it in turns looking after Scarlett and pushing her wheelchair, acting like a tag team. When one of us found it too hard, someone else would take over. It had been a long, stressful, emotional day.
Slowly, we were adjusting to Wes not being around. Scarlett found it hard not to expect him to walk in the door at the same time he would have been back from work. Each night, shortly before six, she’d look expectantly at the time, then be disappointed as it came and went with no sign of him. I’d hold her as she cried, although the tears were starting to come less frequently.
When I hadn’t been working, I’d been catching up with Lyla and Ianthe. It was good to be close with them again. I’d missed their friendship too.
Then there was Andre… we were meant to be taking things slowly…
Unfortunately, the word ‘slow’ didn’t feature in Andre’s vocabulary. He’d bombarded me with flowers and gifts, as well as taking me out on a couple of occasions, mostly for coffee and cake. I was going to have to ask Tori for some exercise tips if he kept it up.
“You look pretty,” commented Scarlett, as I came into the living room. “Are you going out?” Her eyebrows knitted together.
I was wearing a new black and white flowered dress. Lyla had helped me pick it out in the boutique she worked in, and I finally got to use my friends and family discount. My blonde hair was swept up into a messy bun, loose tendrils framing my face, and my make-up was soft but on point.
My cheeks flamed. “Yes. You don’t mind, do you?”
“You’re awfully dressed up for an evening out with Lyla and Ianthe.” Scarlett narrowed her eyes. “Or have you got a date? Tell me everything!”
I fiddled with the strap of my purse, then crossed the room to sit on the sofa next to her. “Yes, I’ve got a date.”
Scarlett squealed. “Ooo! Who? I barely go out these days so I would have no idea.”
I hesitated, looking down at my lap. “Andre.”
It had been the previous day when he’d completely floored me by suggesting an evening date. I’d ummed and aaahed whether to go. And, to be honest, I still wasn’t sure even now. My stomach was in knots and the butterflies were threatening to do cartwheels. It was worse than when we’d been on our first ever date.
“I’m not sure I should go.” I sighed.
