“The very best,” Jodi said.
“Can we please talk about Aaron now?” Ceci said.
“Why do you immediately jump to Aaron every time we’re talking about Samson?” I asked. “It’s kind of weird.”
“Oh please. Anyone can see that Samson’s a metaphor for Aaron. Did you not read any of Gigi’s romance books growing up? I’ve seen the collection she had.”
I tipped my glass at her. “Fair. Fine. What do you want to know?”
Ceci squealed and Jodi perked up.
“Wait,” I said, the alcohol loosening my tongue. Too bad it couldn’t do the same for the wires. Ha. “Bad news first.”
“You’re not leaving,” Jodi said.
My stomach clenched. “What? No.” Not at the moment, anyway.
Ceci raised her glass. “Good. Then whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.” She chugged the drink.
I raised my eyebrows. “Depends on your version of what can’t be that bad. Because my jaw doesn’t get unwired in two weeks like I thought.”
“Ha!” Ceci said.
“Oh, see, now that’s just mean,” I said.
“Sorry. You’re right. I’m sorry.”
I twisted my lips at her. “You’re not sorry, you twisted woman.” When she shrugged, basically admitting I was right, I continued. “Turns out the bone is taking longer to heal than they thought it would. No reason, either. Just ‘wait and see.’”
Jodi grimaced. “That does stink.”
“It does.” Untold amounts of protein shakes stretched out in front of me.
“So back to Aaron,” Ceci said.
“Are you sure you want to hear this?” I asked Jodi.
Jodi stopped the swing and gripped the seat with both hands, leaning forward to make her point. “Devon. I don’t know how to be any clearer. I loved Jason. You loved Jason. Jason is dead.”
I flinched.
“Sorry,” she said, her voice softening. “But he is. I’m not saying you have to move on. But damn, woman. You have really got to think about moving on.”
I swallowed. “What if I’m not ready?”
“It’s been five years. We’ve been through this. It’s no one’s job to tell you when you’re ready or not, but shit, Devon. Five. Years.” She shook her head. “Hell, my own mother seems to be moving on; she sold my childhood home. Never mind that she and Dad can’t bother with a divorce. But still. If she can find a way to move on, then maybe you can do the same.”
I polished off the drink and leaned over to pour another, grateful I’d refilled the pitcher before we came outside. Samson shifted and glanced at me, as if to chastise me for disturbing him.
“You’re scared,” Ceci declared.
“Fuck you,” I shot back, then widened my eyes. “Holy shit. Did I say that? I’m sorry.”
Ceci laughed and waved it away. “It’s okay. Between laughing at you for being wired longer than you thought and this, it seems I hit a nerve.”
I heaved a sigh. “Maybe.”
“Um, definitely,” Jodi said.
“Okay, so let’s talk about Aaron!” I said, “Because I am nothing if not confused, and I don’t want to talk about the Jason part.”
Jodi and Ceci exchanged a look. “Are you following this?” Ceci asked her.
“Nope,” Jodi said. “But I am not even close to being sober, so maybe that’s why?”
Ceci scrunched her face, considering. “Yeah. Same.” She launched their swing back into action and tipped her glass in my direction. “Spill,” she commanded. “Your words. Not your drink.”
I clapped my hands, pleasantly buzzed and happy to let it take me wherever it wanted to. “Yay! So, Aaron.” I leaned forward, squishing Samson. “Have you seen that man in his uniform?”
Ceci laughed and clapped. “Now we’re talking!”
“Every day he’s on shift, yeah,” Jodi said, a grin spreading across her face. “The better question is: you been underneath him yet?”
I nodded. “Yup.” They squealed, and I continued as the alcohol warmed me in the cool night air. “The man has a six-pack. At least, that’s what it felt like. I haven’t actually seen it yet.”
Ceci lurched the swing forward. “Continue. I need this information in my life, seeing as how my dear husband is getting perilously close to rocking a dad bod. Not that he doesn’t know what to do with that bod, but still.”
I waved my hands. “Stop. I can’t hear about you and my brother. Not from him, and not from you.”
