Hence, the wedding bills I’ve got coming in.
She stops her monologue, giving me a long, searching gaze. “How are you feeling?”
I brighten my voice. “Lexi. It’s so good to see you. You didn’t have to call—”
“Are you kidding me? Of course I did! I wanted to be on the next plane out of Sacramento, but the doctor talked me out of it. Said you just needed to eat.”
“Let’s just catch up. I’m feeling fine, I promise.”
“At least tell me what happened?”
Dismissing her concern with a wave of my free hand, I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. “Oh, it was nothing. Just didn’t eat anything, then went too hard in spin class. You remember Tori, the instructor whose class we went to when you visited last summer?”
She gives a laugh. “Yeah. The one you take three times a week? She’s a real drill sergeant. I’m so far from my dancing days, I couldn’t keep up with her. No wonder your legs got as toned as they are and why mine were like jelly afterwards.”
“It was during her class. I just overdid it.” Thinking of the fall from the bike, the strange sensation of my head hitting the floor, makes my insides turn to ice. I change the subject. “Tell me—what’s new with you? How’s Tom?”
A light shines from within her as it always does when her fiancée’s name is mentioned. “Oh, he’s great! Just got promoted to head of sales at the Brewery. Hopthemost has had record sales and Tom’s gotten them into all the posh restaurants in downtown Sacramento.”
“That’s good.” Tom’s successful, and smart, and hopefully, will soon be making good money. Same for Lexi before she left her job as a dance instructor. Sometimes I worry she’s bored. “And what about you?”
“I visit Mom a lot.”
“How is she? Did she get the cashmere cardigan I sent her?”
Lexi averts her eyes. “Yes, yes. She’s doing great! A little slower than usual but you know it's that time of the year when people start to get colds, feel run down…”
She’s hiding something, not wanting to worry me. No matter. I’ll drag it out of her later. I change the subject again. “And you—are you doing anything fun for yourself?”
A slight flash of embarrassment crosses her face. “You know. I stay busy. Cooking, cleaning. Weekends painting sets for the community theater. Wedding planning. Reading.” She holds a book up to the phone. A guy with six pack abs graces the glossy cover.
Hmm... Mr. Lord could be a cover model for one of those romance books she devours…
“I know they’re silly, but I love them, and they pass the time.” She’s got that look on her face. The one that tells me she’s seeking my approval.
Tom asked her to stay home once they were engaged. To prep for when they have kids? I’m not sure why, but they seem happy. “There’s nothing wrong with being a housewife, Lexi. If that’s what works for you guys, good for you.”
Her gaze lowers to her black fingernails. “I know. I just always feel a little… you know… around you… with your business venture and everything. And having to borrow money for the wedding.”
I give a snort. “Running Sugar Daddies Escort Service? Yes, I love my job. But that’s me. I’m a workaholic by nature. And please, you know I’m happy to help pay for the wedding. If dad was here, he’d be the one doing it, so let me. In his memory.”
“You’re such a boss babe and my life seems boring compared to yours.”
“Comparison is the enemy of—well, everything really. You’re happy. And that’s what matters.”
She smiles that kind of glowing smile that only a woman in love can. “I am. And speaking of happiness, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
“What?”
She worries the edge of her cardigan as she speaks. “It’s the wedding.”
“Do you need more money?” She and Tom are set to be wed in the beautiful coastal town of Santa Cruz. On the beach. Right where I used to spend every single second of my free time. She’s my baby sister and I want it to be perfect. No expense spared.
She shakes her head. “No, no. It’s not that—you’ve been more generous than necessary. It will be perfect.”
“What about the wedding, then?”
Her gaze turns pleading. “It would mean a lot to me if you would bring a date.”
My nose wrinkles. Men are just clients to me. A means to an end. Not something to get attached to. “A date? Why?”
“I worry about you out there. Alone with no family. No real relationships. They said you didn’t even have an emergency contact.”
I let out a groan. “Not again with the emergency contact. Why is everyone so obsessed with that?”
“It’s true though, Miranda. You’re not an island. Everyone needs to have at least one or two healthy relationships in their lives. When you lived at the beach you had tons of friends. And boyfriends. You were at a different party every night. Then…” Her words trail off and sadness flashes over her face.