More Than Friends by Erin Dutton Page B

corresponding with several of the women from the dating Web site, looking for enough common interest to meet in real life.
     
    Same one from last weekend?
     
    Nope. New one.
     
    Two in one week?
     
    Just trying to be a player like you.
     
    Kendall liked to tease her. She glanced down at her display as a silver sedan flew around the curve—seventy-seven miles per hour was near-suicidal rounding that bend. She keyed her radio and called out the description and what she could catch of the tag as the car cut between two others to get in the far left lane.
     
    Ha. Just a façade. Costs less if I don’t actually have to wine and dine anyone.
     
    She read the snarky tone in Evelyn’s words, but there was truth behind them. As much as she and Melanie teased her, Evelyn had clearly always wanted something permanent. Even when Evelyn acted like she didn’t mind being single, Kendall could practically feel her comparing every budding relationship with what she thought they had, which was partly why she had never confessed that they were having problems.
    Inside, she liked being that ideal for someone else. If she let Evelyn believe that they had it all, maybe someday she’d be able to convince Melanie as well. In the end, the only person she’d fooled into believing she was happy was herself.
     
    *
     
    Saturday afternoon, Evelyn drove through the new retail area looking for a treasured parking spot. Though the multi-use neighborhood had already been open for a year, she had only been there a handful of times and now she remembered why. Clustering clothing boutiques, restaurants, a movie theater, and various other shops made good business sense, but the ensuing weekend crowds kept her from frequenting the area.
    After finally nabbing a spot at the far end of a lot, she worked her way back toward the center of the neighborhood. Here, the designers had added a town-square feel, with shop fronts facing an open courtyard that featured a well-manicured lawn, stone benches, and a fountain play area for the kids. This afternoon, the couples pushing strollers and kids carrying treats from the ice-cream shop gave the streets the intended small-town atmosphere. Not bad for a suburb of a fairly large city, she had to admit. However, she knew from the crime statistics that the illusion of security was just that.
    In the center of the square, she found Melanie sitting on a bench watching people walk by. After their night out last weekend, she had called Melanie every day. Her initial motivation, to remain a good friend, had evolved into a genuine desire to talk to Melanie. Their conversations exceeded her original expectation that they would exchange pleasantries and ring off, but instead they’d wandered into deeper conversations and she found she didn’t want to hang up the phone.
    She slid onto the bench, bumping her shoulder against Melanie’s. “Hi there.”
    Melanie smiled. “Hey.”
    “Do you want to skip the movie and people watch?” She would much rather stay out here and talk to Melanie than sit silently next to her in a theater pretending to care about the action playing out on-screen.
    “Yeah?”
    “Sure. I can definitely wait for this one to come out on Redbox. I’d rather see it at home anyway.”
    “Because you have the attention span of a three-year-old when it comes to movies, and at home you can pause it for snack and bathroom breaks?”
    “Exactly.” She smiled.
    “Too bad. Because I really want to see this one.” Melanie stood, then took her hand and pulled her to her feet. As they walked toward the theater, Melanie released her.
    “I’m glad you called,” she said. Her fingers tingled and she slid her hand in her pocket, clenching and relaxing her fist a couple of times.
    “Were you busy today?”
    “No. I spent the morning cleaning the house and doing laundry, nothing exciting. This is a welcome change.”
    “Is this okay? I didn’t know if you’d be seeing the movie with Kendall or