Page 101 of For The Weekend
Can’t let Eloise slip through our fingers.
Chapter 29
Eloise
Things for Sloane have been moving at lightning speed, while I feel as if I’ve been walking in mud ever since everything went down with Roman, so it’s weird to walk into Sloane’s house to find her on the floor of her living room, completely frozen.
It unsettles me, and I go into hyperactive mode, while she stares blankly at the tablet in her lap. “You’re freaking me out a bit, Sloanie,” I say, straightening up, folding blankets, and putting pillows back on couches. “What’s going on?”
She doesn’t answer until I’m right next to her, a tiny purple sweatshirt in my lap that belongs to Livie. “We’re selling the house.”
I blow out a breath. “That’s… Full steam ahead.”
She holds out the tablet to me. “I’ve been looking at apartments.”
I take the device from her, scrolling on it for a few seconds, then hand it back to her. She looks like she hasn’t slept in days. Probably hasn’t.
“Trevor’s pissed because I want to wait until after theholidays to tell the kids,” she says, and I don’t know what to do or how to fix this.
Her life is being turned upside down. Micah’s and Olivia’s lives will be turned upside down, and allhecan think about is that they’re not moving along fast enough?
“I think you’re right to wait. I don’t know anything about real estate, but I feel like putting a house on the market right now isn’t the best time.”
She sighs, rolling her head side to side as if she’s got a kink in her neck. “That’s what I said, but he knows best.”
“He knows shit.”
She huffs a sad sort of laugh. Progress. “I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to tell my parents. You know how they feel about him. What am I gonna say when he doesn’t show up on Christmas? Sorry, Trevor can’t come, he’s fucking his girlfriend.”
I shrug. “Might as well.”
She bends her knees and sets her elbows on them to hold her head in her hands. “This is a mess.”
I rub her back. Sloane’s good with messes, but this one is a little too big to clean up, and I offer what I can. “It is a mess, and I hate that he’s not helping you clean it up, but I will.” I lean my head on her shoulder. “I love you.”
I feel her cheek settle on my head. “Love you too.”
After a minute passes, she sits up and blinks a few times, clearing the glassiness from her eyes and stands, taking Livie’s sweatshirt from my hands. “Tell me about something else. Distract me.”
I follow her to the kitchen, where she fills up the dishwasher. “I decided I’m making chocolate pecan pie and pumpkin tarts for Thanksgiving.”
She snatches away the dish towel I’m playing with to toss itinto a basket along with other dirty cloth napkins and towels. “Riveting stuff.”
“There’s not much else to tell,” I lie as I trail her to the laundry room, and it’s such a shame they’re selling this house. Well, it’s a shame Trevor’s a cheater, and the least he could do is let Sloane stay in the house. My best friend was the one who made this house a home. It could be featured on HGTV. A fever dream of Joanna Gaines, all farmhouse chic in the middle of a college town in a Philly suburb.
“You’re such a liar,” my best friend says, tossing the kitchen towels into the washer. “You look like shit.”
“Oh, real nice.” I open the dryer to remove the clothes from it. “Why the hell are you still doing Trevor’s laundry?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbles, grabbing a thick plastic hanger from the bar on the wall like she might use it as a weapon. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing anymore.”
I throw Trevor’s white undershirt on the floor. “Well, don’t do his laundry should be number one on the list. Don’t do anything for him.”
She stabs the hanger into one of his button-down shirts. “I just need to make it through to the end of the year.” She tosses the shirt and hanger to the floor before jamming her fingers into her hair. “I found a lawyer, and she said I’ll be able to receive alimony, but you know how much I make. It’s not a lot, and I’m worried about staying afloat with the kids.”
“Has he said anything about custody?” I ask carefully, and she shakes her head a few times then bends to pick up the clean clothes from the floor. Because my best friend doesn’t throw tantrums.
I wish she would.
