Page 19 of Easy Reunion
Chapter 8
Kelsey
“It doesn’t matter what you say to me,” I read aloud. “I know what’s inside of me. And one day, you’re going to regret everything. Give me enough time, and I will figure out a way to make you pay back every tear.”Good, I muse. Setting up that inner core of my character Pilar is always such a rush. When I started writing the series based loosely on the emotions I felt at Forsyth, I paid homage the main character’s name from my favorite Hemingway novel,For Whom the Bell Tolls, and named Pilar after her.
Fondly, I reach over and stroke the worn copy I’ve had since my freshman-year honor’s literature class. Ernest Hemingway’s story of war, loyalty, beauty, and love are interspersed with some of the most memorable quotes that have stuck in my mind about the perception of human nature. After all, Hemingway said it best when he said that if we win here, we win everywhere. And throughout my pages, I have Pilar triumph one brutal day at a time over the bullies that make her life a living hell at the private school her parents sent her to because they don’t have time for her in their lives.
Tilting my head left and right, I release the pressure gathering at the base of my neck. As joints pop, I know mentally I could go for another couple of hours, but my body is protesting mightily—like it’s going to revolt if I don’t step away from the keyboard.
I’ve been writing nonstop the last three days since I got back to Angel’s from the reunion. I’d be more concerned about things like dehydration, except for the fact Angel’s house has a full water filtration system, so I can go to any tap to fill my water bottle. It’s also why the mad scientist who created protein bars retired long ago on the proceeds from his or her stock sales.
I have a deadline coming up, but I’m well ahead of the curve to meet it. I get in these moods where all the words want to vomit out of my head and my heart. I keep going until I run out of juice, or the character’s worn the same outfit for a while and is probably pretty rank. Much like I’m beginning to feel.
Saving the file in three separate locations, I strip my clothes and head for the shower. I’m too gross even to contemplate working out before I clean up. That’s when you know it’s bad.When you’re too disgusting to go sweat, I think ruefully. I scrub my scalp hard, my nails feeling amazing as they cause the suds to get thicker and thicker. I duck my head under the water as days of ick slip away.
A knock at my bathroom door startles me. “Yeah?” I call out.
“You’re alive!” Angel pokes her head inside.
Ducking mine around the shower curtain, I give her a wink. “And I’m starving. Do we have any yogurt?”
“Bleeeech! You’re coming out of a three-day self-imposed liquid diet and you’re asking for yogurt?”
“That’s not entirely true,” I protest as I yank the curtain closed even as Angel shuts the door behind her as she steps inside. After years of living together, I know she’s just waiting for me to keep talking. “I had protein bars.”
The shower curtain is yanked completely back, exposing my naked body. “Hey!” I protest. I’m not ashamed of my nudity the way I used to be, but seriously? I start laughing.
“I’m pregnant, I’m hangry, and I’m craving sugar. Therefore as my best friend, you need to be hangry with me, not laughing. And not looking so…so…”
“Wet?” I suggest. Quickly I turn off the shower that’s spraying us both with water. I twist up my hair in a towel before reaching for one to wrap around my body. Just as I step out, I hear Angel bark out a wicked laugh.
“Certainly not by me. Besides, I thought you were done with that kind of stuff in Savannah,” she taunts.
Shaking my head, I step up to the mirror. Angel has lowered herself to the toilet to watch while I dry off and quickly blow the dampness out my hair, leaving to the rest to air-dry in loose curls around my shoulders. “You’re still here?” I tease.
“I’m needy today. Let’s do something. I want to go somewhere.” With school out for the summer, if Angel’s not volunteering, then she’s at home.
I reach over and pat her stomach. “Are you okay to walk around with Lucy?”
“Right as rain.” She lays her hand on the side of mine. We both jump when her daughter kicks us.
“She’s strong,” I murmur, smoothing a hand over her stomach, feeling the little ripples under my hand.
“I know. Just a few more months and we can hold her.” Angel lays her hand on top of my own. We both mist up a little.
“Okay!” I declare. “Enough mush. Let’s go out walking, and then let’s do something we haven’t done in forever.”
“What? Buy shoes?” Angel says excitedly.
I glare at her. “Bite your damn tongue. I need to buy a house. If I walk into a shoe store, I’ll end up screwing my down payment for sure. No, I was thinking about beignets from Cafe du Monde.”
“Ooh, honey, that’s an even better idea.”
My stomach rumbles in complete agreement even as my mind protests consuming the sugary delight.
Maybe I’ll have half.
After all, I can’t let myself be like that ever again. I just can’t.
