Page 142 of Gin and Lava

But even that feels hollow.

Esme:Naomi? Did I lose you?

And what’s worse is I can’t say to my best friendI don’t want to be my mom! Because I’m the lying a-hole who hasn’t told her about my mother and my life back in Texas. Even Esme thinks I’m another person.

Naomi:You know what, this probably does need a phone call.

Esme:Ok. Give me ten, and I’ll sneak off set.

Naomi:*thumbs up emoji*

I walk out of the laundry room and sit in the big open living space of my aunt’s beach house. Even this feels empty. Despite all the activities and drinking and fun, none of it has felt truly honest.

Rule #6:Be myself.

Mason made it a stipulation that I not lie about who I am around him, but I’m not sure if I’ve been myself this entire week. I’m not sure if I’veeverbeen myself with Sam or Shauri. There’s a cliché quote that says “Be careful who you pretend to be, because that’s who you’ll become.” Maybe I was hoping that would happen, and if I could fake it long enough, I would transform into the person I was pretending to be. Maybe I could manifest the woman whowouldown a beach house like this and marry a doctor like Sam.

In some ways … I have done that.

I do have access to this beach house all the time, even if it isn’t in my real estate portfolio. And I am a woman who caught Sam’s attention once, and now again. So why the heck does it feel bad?

Is it trust? I’m afraid to let Sam into my heart again. But eventhatfeels thin.

Everything about this feels like it’s made of tissue paper, and this person I’ve been trying to become might be blown away at any second. She’s weightless, substance-less. She’s pretty hair, and dresses, and shoes.

She’s a costume I put on.

My phone rings, and I click to answer. “Hey, Esme.”

“Naomi, sorry,” Esme says when I pick up, the roar of cars on the street echoing behind her. “There’s a ton of security check points on Des’s set. They’re definitely trying to keep the season ending under wraps. But … I didn’t call to talk about me. This is about you. Now tell me everything.”

I take a deep breath.

“There are some things I haven’t told you,” I begin, chewing on my nail as I walk out to the sunporch and look at the air mattress: empty, sheetless, deflating. “But if I’m going to tell you everything, then I have to start at the beginning. And that starts with my mom.”

46

NAOMI

Itwist the 16-guage metal wire into a loop, wrapping and turning and pulling it into shape. I sit at my jewelry desk in my apartment, hunched over my tools. And honestly, I don’t know what I’m making. I just know I needed to be alone.

Creating jewelry is my Zen place. It helps me to get out of my head. And after confessing to Esme about my mom and my hang ups, and how I’ve been lying to her for years … I just needed to get away and use my hands.

Twist.

Cut.

Solder.

Repeat.

I left a note at the beach house explaining that I was taking the night off, and I’d be around tomorrow to help Shauri and her friends shuttle their luggage from the beach house to the hotel where the wedding will be held. I didn’t text Shauri. The last thing I want is a hundred text message pleas for me to change my mind. The only person I texted was Mason, so he won’t be ambushed by Shauri and Sam without me by his side. Then I turned my phone off.

Twist.

Cut.

Solder.

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