Head Over Feels

Rad smiles at me, trying to kill me dead on this seat. “Hi,” he says, offering me a hand. “It’s a big drop.”

Freaking gentleman.

“Hi.” I slip my hand in his and hop out. He moves to the back, too fast for my liking, to start unloading. Stepping onto the lawn, I smile, closing my eyes, stealing only a second to take it all in. “Listen. Not a siren or horn to be heard.”

Marlow laughs. “Those sirens lull me to sleep each night.”

“You can hear them in your palace in the sky?”

Coming around to this side of the SUV, she taps my arm. “I bought a noise machine that plays the recorded version. Too much quiet leaves room for my mind to wander, and I don’t want that interfering with my beauty sleep.”

Cammie and Cade are already on the porch hugging Amanda, so I drag my large bag from the floorboard and hike it onto my shoulder. Before I have a chance to start walking, Rad’s taking the handles from me. “Let me.” I peek up to find the gold in his eyes brighter in the sunshine. “How was the ride?”

It takes me a second to get my bearings. “Noisy. Marlow snored with her headphones on. Jackson was watching a movie on his phone but forgot his earbuds. Cammie was dealing with the wedding planner. Cade tapped the steering wheel to a beat in his head for at least two hours.”

Chuckling, he asks, “And what about you? What did you do to pass the time?”

“Daydreamed.” The confession makes me giggle, and I’m grateful he can’t read my thoughts . . . or know what I was daydreaming about.

“Must have been a good daydream.”

I nod. “It most definitely was.”

Marlow calls out, “Rad, do you mind taking my bags upstairs?” She goes inside the house without taking them with her, including the small Vuitton train case she was holding.

“I can help,” I add.

“It’s okay. You should go inside and join her. It was a long drive. By the time I get the luggage to the rooms, you’ll probably be ready to freshen up.”

“I don’t mind.”

He chuckles. “I insist. I missed my workout this morning anyway, and Jackson can help. Go on up and enjoy.” He winks. Calling out to Jackson, he says, “St. James, get your ass over here and help me with the luggage.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Amanda comes down the steps with her arms open wide. “It’s so good to see you again, Tealey.”

Wrapping my arms around her, I say, “It’s been too long.” There’s comfort in her arms and such kindness felt in the hug. She leans back and looks at me like a doting stage mom. “You’re more beautiful every time I see you. How are you?”

We exchange smiles, and I notice a silver streak running through her hair that wasn’t there the last time I saw her. It only adds to her sophistication. “I’m doing well. How are you?”

“Wonderful. I’m so glad everyone could come this weekend.” She wraps her arm around my shoulders, and we walk toward the porch together. The gray shingle home with white trim and white columns leaves me in awe every time I see it. It doesn’t matter that I’ve visited a handful of times over the years. This house is beautiful down to the smallest detail and so inviting.

“I am too. I needed a break from the city.” Maybe from your son and those towels, but I think it’s wise to keep that last part to myself. “I love coming here.”

“The cottage needs life breathed into it and nothing like the young to fill it with excitement.” She refers to her home as a cottage, but at six thousand square feet, I’m thinking the quaint term isn’t quite fitting.

When we reach the porch, she turns back, and says, “Good to see you, Jackson,” making sure she’s greeted every guest.

He waves. “You too, Ms. Allison.”

“Amanda.”

“Got it. Amanda.”

She laughs, turning back to me. “He can be such an Eddie Haskell sometimes.”

“Who?”

She waves her hand. “Never mind. Are you hungry? I set out snacks, and since it’s reached cocktail hour, let’s have a drink. I’d also love to hear more about your apartment search this weekend. Rad said you haven’t found anything suitable yet.”

That’s interesting since I’ve found probably five options, but it was him who wasn’t on board with them. I glance back over my shoulder, catching Rad’s eyes on me as he drags the luggage across the lawn. He grins, and I return a smile.

“Absolutely.”

As Rad’s apartment is warm with original brown brick walls, black-framed windows, and darkish wood floors, Amanda’s home is bright and airy with whites and soft colors. I can only dream of owning a home like this one day.

The house is bustling with laughter as champagne is being popped, and various conversations are overheard as we enter the great room. The gang has arrived and already made themselves at home.