Strangely Normal - By Tess Oliver Page 0,20
rinsing plates had been enough for Finley. She dropped the skillet and dishes in to the sink and turned to me. “Let’s take a swim. I could use some color on my legs. Did you bring a suit?”
I thought about the faded, one piece suit Mom had bought me from Goodwill for tenth grade swim class. I’d tucked it into my duffle bag, but I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to drag it out. “I brought one,” I said hesitantly.
“Cool. Let’s go up and change.”
I trudged behind her. Cole’s room was quiet, and my hopes were that both brothers would sleep through the afternoon. I dreaded being seen in my second-hand swimsuit.
Finley had lent me a large, luxurious beach towel, and I wrapped myself up good before stepping into the hallway. One of the cats I’d seen swirling around Finley’s leg when I’d arrived was now sitting outside her bedroom door. I glanced in the direction of Cole’s room. Still no sound. The pain medication had most likely knocked him out for the day.
Finley’s door opened and the cat shot inside. Some Pig trotted into the hallway with a snort. He was wearing a Hawaiian print t-shirt. Even the pig was dressed better than me. Finley had no reason to hide under a towel. She had a perfect figure and her bright blue bikini fit her as if a tailor had custom sewn it for her. Now that I thought of it, that was more than likely the case.
She looked at me and laughed. “Nice beach cover-up. I heard rumor that the towel look was coming back in Vogue.” She obviously sensed my embarrassment and stopped her teasing. “It can’t be that bad, Eden. Let me see.”
Reluctantly, I opened the towel to reveal my wretched suit.
Her mouth dropped. “I was wrong. It’s truly ugly.” I went to cover up again, but she grabbed my hand. “But no one would notice the suit because you have a drop dead figure to go under it. God, I would kill for those curves.”
I pulled the top of the suit up to keep my breasts from spilling out. “I didn’t have quite so much boobage when I was in tenth grade. That’s when my mom bought this. So, not only is it hideous, but it’s out of date too.”
We’d made the long journey through the maze of hallways without running into anyone only to meet Jude coming up the pathway from the pool house. His gaze drifted from my face down to my feet. “Nice towel.”
“Thanks,” I said. “It’s the latest thing in swimwear.”
A strong chemical odor clung to his ragged t-shirt, and I briefly worried that he might have been concocting illegal drugs in the pool house. I pushed the thought from my mind. He would, after all, be gone soon.
Finley grabbed my hand and yanked me past him. We got to the lounges and Finley dropped her towel and lotion onto the cushion. “I just realized I haven’t been in yet this year.” Some Pig crawled beneath her lounge and curled up. Finley glanced at me and sighed. “You’re going to have to lose the towel some time.”
“I know, I know.” I unwrapped myself and dropped the towel over the back of the lounge. I followed Finley to the pool entrance but then remembered I hadn’t removed my sandals. I hurried back to the lounge. Jude was still standing on the path. As if he’d been frozen to the spot, he stood stock still and stared at me openly. I quickly pushed off my sandals and scurried back to the water. I sank down below the surface and then peeked back over my shoulder. Jude was gone, and I released the breath I’d been holding.
“Oh shit, shit, shit,” Finley cried suddenly. “I can’t believe I’m such a ditz.” She swam back to the shallow water and hurried out of the pool. I was in the midst of deciding whether I should follow her out when she raced over to the planter that she’d tapped the day before. She was grumbling to herself as she touched the planter three times. She marched back to the water with a major frown. “I never forget that. I don’t know what got into me.” She looked very distressed by it all.
“I don’t mind going back inside and starting all over again,” I said. It was obvious this was going to stick with her for awhile.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” A weak grin appeared. “Thank you for that, but it’s