Page 20 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice
Why do I hope that little Chaos will do exactly that?
“You havesucha nice view from here,” Lauren mutters, walking up to my ceiling-high windows facing the lake.
“Don’t you almost have the same one?” I ask her, handing her a steaming mug of hot chocolate spiked with Bailey’s.
“I mean, you have my house in view,” she says with a giggle and immediately takes a sip.
“How is that going, by the way?” I walk over to my couch facing the windows and sit down, careful not to spill my drink. “Do you already regret DYI-ing it?”
“Oh, it’s still fun,” she says with a grin. “Don’t get me wrong, I spend more time researching, watching tutorials, or browsing for materials, but I’m not tired of that yet. I’m calling that a win.”
“Wait, you’re doing everything from scratch?” I blink at her, surprised.
“I mean, it’s only cosmetic. It’s a new house, after all.” She giggles, and the alcohol is tinting her cheeks pink. “No wiring or plumbing, but those bookshelves are driving me crazy. You assemble one and think you’ve got the hang of it, but then you completely mess up the next one and the first breaks down the second you try to put your books in it.”
“I’d probably break my thumb with the hammer. Or get a bunch of splinters,” I mutter and put my mug on the coffee table to pull my legs onto the couch.
“Hey, what are these?” She suddenly holds up one of the catalogs I had sent here, then starts flipping through the pages. “Interior design?”
“Yeah,” I say, reaching for a pillow. “I had a lot of fun putting everything together, and I have a lot of free time. Maybe college is in my future after all.” I shrug and take a deep breath. “I mean, I needsomethingto do or work toward. You’ve got your house to keep you busy, but I have”—I wave my hand around vaguely—“nothing.”
"There's nothing wrong with focusing on yourself first." She shrugs. "Take that break you've been talking about. Rediscover who you are outside of your family and a relationship. Find a new hobby. I just bought myself a pottery set. I mean who knows, maybe there's a clay master hidden inside of me."
"I know there's nothing wrong with that." I hug the pillow tighter to my chest. "I wouldn't even know where to start, though."
“What about ‘romanticizing life?’” she asks with a raised eyebrow, and I softly shake my head.
“I can only romanticize so much on my own. And it’s not exactly giving mepurpose,” I try to explain, when suddenly I notice a dip on the cushion right next to my legs.
“I knew it!” I say triumphantly, flashing a grin at Lauren, who blinks at me, confusion written all over her face.
“What’s going on?”
“Come on, sit down,” I say with the sweetest smile, patting the couch right next to me.
“Okay?” It sounds like a question, but Lauren sets down her mug, too, and sits. She gives me a suspicious glare while I keep the most pleasant smile on my face.
She calls me crazy for thinking a cat is haunting this house? Now is the time to prove her wrong.
Please, Chaos, don’t disappoint me.
“What the—?” Lauren tenses visibly, and her head whirls to me as she stares at me with wide eyes and mouth agape. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I’m not doing anything,” I point out, lifting my hands in the air to prove it.
“Did something climb into my lap? Why can’t I see anything? What?”
“Told you.” I shrug.
“I can’t believe it,” she mutters, shaking her head. “It’s actually a ghost kitty.” Then she shoots me a mischievous smile. “Do you think we could see her if we blow some flour over her?”
“I think the only thing that would do is make a mess.”
“What else do you have your fancy robot vacuum for?”
But before I can answer, I sense a tap on my calf. The cushions dip as though she jumped off, and only a second later, we both hear a scratching on the door.
“I’m getting a mad sense of déjà vu,” Lauren whispers, her eyes darting between me and the front door. “You better get that.”
