Page 86 of Thanks for the Friendship
The remainder of our lunch is mostly uneventful, and after they leave, Reagan looks at me in astonishment. “Who are you, and what have you done with my friend Lila?”
My mouth twists. “I have no idea. I’m going with temporary insanity.”
“It’s something,” she says. “First Theo and now Bethany. Cal Sims must really be having an effect on you.”
I scowl. “Let’s change the subject, please. I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Whatever you say.”
When I get home, I fall down on my bed and kick off my sandals. Between searching for a new place to live and being cordial with Bethany and Jordan, I’m mentally exhausted. A phone call from my mother is the last thing I want, so I take a few deep breaths before answering my phone.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, honey. How are sales?”
I roll my eyes and fight the urge to make a snarky comment. “All good. What’s up?”
I stretch out on my bed while barely listening to her complain about a hotel they stayed at.
“We’re looking forward to our family vacation,” she says. “Once the house is sold, it’ll be a huge relief.”
It’s so confusing to me that she has no sentimental attachment to our home at all.
“Aren’t you even a little emotional about this?” I snap. “What about all the memories we have here?”
“Lila, I carry the memories with me every day,” she replies. “Of course I’m a little sad. But I don’t need a house to remind me of all the wonderful times we had.”
I understand what she’s saying, but I can’t help but think about Cals parents' home and the walls covered with pictures of their family past and present. He’s so lucky to have that constant in his life. The first thing he did when he finally ended his relationship with Sara was go home. Pretty soon, I’m not going to have that kind of stability. My parents are basically living in hotels right now while they have their own adventure.
“It’s going to be okay, you’ll see,” my mother insists.
I remain quiet while she talks to me about painters and donation pickups.
After our conversation ends, I start to get ready to see Cal. The thought of this brings a smile back to my face.
* * *
It’s not often that I get weak in the knees, but Cal definitely has this kind of power over me. When I enter the living room, my pulse begins to race at the sight of him. He’s wearing a tailored, blue sport coat and slacks with a crisp white shirt. His collar is open, revealing just a bit of his chest. This man should always wear blue because it really makes his eyes pop. I have no idea what he has planned for tonight, but he told me to dress up. I’m assuming that means we’re not playing mini golf, although I’m sure we’ll go back there sometime—if we’re welcome.
Reagan is visibly trying to remain calm, but I know she’s squealing inside.
I’m wearing a blush-colored, one-shoulder dress. It still had the tags on it, so I must have been saving it for a special occasion. I’d say my second second-date with Cal counts as special.
“Wow,” he breathes.
“Dr. Sims, you clean up very nicely,” I say coyly.
“I need to get ready too,” Reagan says, making a quick exit. “Have fun tonight.”
Cal doesn’t move from his spot, but he turns to make sure Reagan is safely out of the room before he glides toward me.
“You just took my breath away,” he whispers, before kissing me on the cheek and then moving to my lips.
When we finally let our embrace go, I run my hands over the outside of his coat. “I really like this suit.”
“Thank you. I think the blue really brings out the color of my eyes,” he says with a grin.
He must have been reading my mind.
