Can't Hurry Love (Sunshine Valley #1) - Melinda Curtis Page 0,6
had gone to his mother. If Lola left now, she’d leave with nothing but debt.
“Haven’t I been telling you to redecorate for months?” Avery handed Lola a full shot glass. Randy’s expensive whiskey sat open on the bar.
Lola hesitated before accepting the shot. She wasn’t a drinker, and Randy had been saving that bottle.
“Yes, I opened the whiskey Randy paid five hundred dollars for.” Avery filled her glass to the rim, drinking it without so much as a wince.
“But—”
Avery narrowed her expertly lined eyes. “Is Randy going to complain?”
“No.”
“Would you rather the other woman drank it?”
“No!” It took Lola two burning swallows to get it all down. The whiskey didn’t fill the hole in her heart or the wound to her pride but it did give her a false jolt of courage. “Who was it, Avery? Who is the other woman?”
“I don’t know.” Her friend shrugged, staring at the bottom of her shot glass. “Does it matter?”
“Yes!” The need to know pressed a panic button inside of Lola, one she’d had no idea had been factory installed. “Why wasn’t I good enough for him?” Lola pressed a hand over her eyes and groaned. Despite her best efforts to the contrary, she was turning into her mother. Her slightly dramatic, slightly eccentric, slightly foolish mother, who’d often wailed the very same question during the first few months after Lola’s dad had left them.
“Forget about Randy. You’re coming to Shaw’s with me tonight.” Avery made her second whiskey disappear in one smooth swallow. “You could use a therapy session with a good bottle of wine.”
“Shaw’s doesn’t have good wine.” It had Widows Club fund-raisers. “Did Mims put you up to this?”
“No, but it’s been a long time since you left this man cave.” Avery sat next to her and poured them both another drink. “You need a new man.”
“I need to get rid of my old man first.” Lola downed the whiskey. It didn’t burn any less than the first time. Trust Randy to buy crappy, expensive liquor. But it served a purpose. She stood on steadier legs. “Randy goes. Starting now.” Lola marched toward the stairs.
On the second floor, Lola made it past another wedding picture and the king-size bed without choking up. She entered the walk-in closet, which was bigger than most bedrooms, big enough for two floor-to-ceiling shoe racks and two dressers. But not big enough to hide the truth of Randy’s infidelity.
“Is that your dream book?” Avery rushed to Lola’s dresser. She flipped open the stained pink fabric scrapbook of Lola’s youth. “Look at these autographed playbills. And hairstyles. And swatches of lace. And…” She cooed. “That is the sweetest baby nursery I’ve ever seen.”
And it would never be Lola’s. “My mother told me when I was nine…” Right after Lola’s dad announced he’d gotten his mistress pregnant. “There are no happily-ever-afters.” She’d been right. Lola reached for the scrapbook, which held crushed dreams and broken promises. “That’s going in the trash.”
Avery cradled the book to her chest. “You aren’t giving up on your dreams just because Randy was a jerk. I still believe in Prince Charming. And you should too.”
Lola’s eyes misted. More than half the scrapbook was filled with aspirations of family and love. Those seemed as out of reach as her abandoned career doing hair and makeup on Broadway. She had no reason to keep the scrapbook, except…
Nana’s dear face came to mind, her bright-blue eye shadow and rosy blush framed by a steel-gray beehive. She’d sat at the kitchen table with Lola, cutting out pictures from Playbill and People and recounting Grandpa’s courtship.
“My grandmother used to say true love is home, and home is where dreams are made.” Lola took the dream book and put it back on the dresser. Someday, she’d make new dreams. “Can you box up Randy’s shoes? I’ll finish the dresser.” And then all she’d have left was the shelf above it.
Lola sat on the carpeted floor and opened the bottom drawer. Mistake. The sweatshirts smelled of Randy. She used to love the clean way he smelled, as if he’d just showered and put on a set of freshly laundered clothes. Had his obsession with the shower and the laundry been a necessity to hide his lying lifestyle? Of course it had.
“I’m ready for another drink now.” Lola started to stand.
“You’ve got to earn it first.” Avery planted a hand on Lola’s shoulder and pressed her back down. “Or I’ll never get to Shaw’s by five thirty.”