week.”
“Cool. You need any help?”
ACK! I can just see him chopping off his fingertips on the mandolin, shattering my vintage Emile Henry roasting pans, and blowing us both sky-high with the gas stove. “I’m good, Wayne, thanks for the offer. I really appreciate that. Are you going to Indiana for Thursday?”
“Yep. Big bash over at the Brands’. Then I go pick Noah up Friday morning.”
“Tell everyone I send my love and that I will see them at Christmas.”
“Of course. Maybe I can bring Noah by Friday afternoon or something?”
“I’d love to see him. We’re decorating the Library that day, just bring him there, he can help with the tree. And thanks for the breakfast.”
“You betcha! I’ll talk to you later, Jenny.” He kisses me awkwardly on my temple, and I walk him to the door. Then I go back to the kitchen to dump the coffee and the rest of the donut, and head back upstairs to bed, hoping I can pretend it was just a bad dream.
Except I can’t fall back to sleep. I check the clock. 7:55. Hmmm. I reach for the phone.
“Good morning, beautiful.” I do have to say, I’m getting more comfortable with the fact that Brian genuinely likes me, despite being the type of guy who never paid the slightest bit of attention to me historically. Nancy keeps reminding me that he is actually an individual person and not personally representative of every classically handsome boy who ever ignored me in high school and college. And after.
“Good morning. What are you doing?”
“I’m just getting ready to go to work. What are you doing?”
“Up early, thought you might want to stop by on your way to the office. Breakfast meeting with a client?”
Brian chuckles. “I don’t have anything horribly pressing this morning. On my way.”
I leap back out of bed and jump into the shower for a quick rinse off, brush my teeth, brush my hair out, change out of the oversized men’s V-neck white T-shirt I usually sleep in, and into a cute bra and one of the endless sets of lounging pajamas Aimee was forever giving me.
“I love a lounging pajama.”
You also love a marabou mule slipper and a satin robe with a train.
“It is elegant.”
It is insane.
“It is sophisticated.”
Sure, if you’re Nora Charles. It isn’t 1940.
“Yeah, but look at yourself.”
I look in the mirror. The silk and cashmere blend fabric has just the right amount of drape to conceal the lumpier parts of me without clinging, but enough weight to seem more substantial than sleepwear. The color is somewhere halfway between cream and ballerina pink, a color I would never pick, but is a lovely counterpoint to my pale skin and dark hair. All in all, I look fairly adorable for this hour, certainly good enough to warrant a little morning attention.
“Told you so.”
Yeah, yeah.
“Didn’t I give you a matching robe for that?”
Don’t push it.
“I’m just saying.”
Fine. I grab the matching robe. It has a wide band of gathered elastic in the back that hits right above my tush, giving me shape, even though the robe isn’t tied. Made of the same fabric as the pajamas, it doesn’t add bulk the way most robes do, but instead almost serves as the same elegant look a long trench provides.
“HA!”
You are such a bad gloater.
“Too bad. You look utterly shaggable.”
Well I hope so, since I’m pretty sure Brian doesn’t think he is coming over for an actual meeting.
“My work here is done. Go forth and lay the lawyer. Get some action from the attorney. Jump the jurist. Bang the barrister. Climb the counselor. Solicit the solicitor . . .”
I’m laughing so hard; tears are streaming down my face. Volnay is looking at me like I have gone completely off my nut. Which I suppose I probably have, since the imaginary voice of my dead bestie is making me giggle myself apoplectic.
Cut it OUT!
Lucky for me, the doorbell rings before the Voix goes off on another tangent.
* * *
I pop downstairs and open the door.
“Cool. You need any help?”
ACK! I can just see him chopping off his fingertips on the mandolin, shattering my vintage Emile Henry roasting pans, and blowing us both sky-high with the gas stove. “I’m good, Wayne, thanks for the offer. I really appreciate that. Are you going to Indiana for Thursday?”
“Yep. Big bash over at the Brands’. Then I go pick Noah up Friday morning.”
“Tell everyone I send my love and that I will see them at Christmas.”
“Of course. Maybe I can bring Noah by Friday afternoon or something?”
“I’d love to see him. We’re decorating the Library that day, just bring him there, he can help with the tree. And thanks for the breakfast.”
“You betcha! I’ll talk to you later, Jenny.” He kisses me awkwardly on my temple, and I walk him to the door. Then I go back to the kitchen to dump the coffee and the rest of the donut, and head back upstairs to bed, hoping I can pretend it was just a bad dream.
Except I can’t fall back to sleep. I check the clock. 7:55. Hmmm. I reach for the phone.
“Good morning, beautiful.” I do have to say, I’m getting more comfortable with the fact that Brian genuinely likes me, despite being the type of guy who never paid the slightest bit of attention to me historically. Nancy keeps reminding me that he is actually an individual person and not personally representative of every classically handsome boy who ever ignored me in high school and college. And after.
“Good morning. What are you doing?”
“I’m just getting ready to go to work. What are you doing?”
“Up early, thought you might want to stop by on your way to the office. Breakfast meeting with a client?”
Brian chuckles. “I don’t have anything horribly pressing this morning. On my way.”
I leap back out of bed and jump into the shower for a quick rinse off, brush my teeth, brush my hair out, change out of the oversized men’s V-neck white T-shirt I usually sleep in, and into a cute bra and one of the endless sets of lounging pajamas Aimee was forever giving me.
“I love a lounging pajama.”
You also love a marabou mule slipper and a satin robe with a train.
“It is elegant.”
It is insane.
“It is sophisticated.”
Sure, if you’re Nora Charles. It isn’t 1940.
“Yeah, but look at yourself.”
I look in the mirror. The silk and cashmere blend fabric has just the right amount of drape to conceal the lumpier parts of me without clinging, but enough weight to seem more substantial than sleepwear. The color is somewhere halfway between cream and ballerina pink, a color I would never pick, but is a lovely counterpoint to my pale skin and dark hair. All in all, I look fairly adorable for this hour, certainly good enough to warrant a little morning attention.
“Told you so.”
Yeah, yeah.
“Didn’t I give you a matching robe for that?”
Don’t push it.
“I’m just saying.”
Fine. I grab the matching robe. It has a wide band of gathered elastic in the back that hits right above my tush, giving me shape, even though the robe isn’t tied. Made of the same fabric as the pajamas, it doesn’t add bulk the way most robes do, but instead almost serves as the same elegant look a long trench provides.
“HA!”
You are such a bad gloater.
“Too bad. You look utterly shaggable.”
Well I hope so, since I’m pretty sure Brian doesn’t think he is coming over for an actual meeting.
“My work here is done. Go forth and lay the lawyer. Get some action from the attorney. Jump the jurist. Bang the barrister. Climb the counselor. Solicit the solicitor . . .”
I’m laughing so hard; tears are streaming down my face. Volnay is looking at me like I have gone completely off my nut. Which I suppose I probably have, since the imaginary voice of my dead bestie is making me giggle myself apoplectic.
Cut it OUT!
Lucky for me, the doorbell rings before the Voix goes off on another tangent.
* * *
I pop downstairs and open the door.
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