“No. You can’t meet her. Just…” I viciously scrubbed my face and rinsed, doing a quick spin to get the soap and conditioner off. Then I jumped out, grabbing the closest towel. “Just don’t come out. And don’t let Stuntman back in the house either. He hates her worse than he hates Tyler.”
I tripped all over the bathroom, plugging in my hair dryer, slapping on lotion, putting on mascara. Josh got out and went into the bedroom to get dressed.
Ten minutes. I had ten minutes. If my hair was wet, she’d know I had forgotten. She’d be worse if she knew I’d forgotten.
Ugh. She was going to give me so much grief about Tyler. Well, it was only a matter of time. Or maybe, You ruin all the good things in your life. Whatever it was, it would be tinged with disappointment and judgment and I didn’t have enough warning to get into the right headspace to deal with her.
I’d been so distracted, and Tyler was the one who’d saved the date in his calendar. And of course she wouldn’t call me to confirm or let me know she was on her way like a normal person. She’d prefer it if I fucked up and got the date wrong or forgot. I turned on my hair dryer.
Dry faster, dry faster! Damn it, why did I even wash it?!
At 10:29 I came out of my room, ready to answer the door. She was never late. She’d be here exactly at 10:30. But when I came down the hallway, putting in my earring, Mom was already in the living room.
Talking to Josh.
NINETEEN
Josh
The hair dryer was still running in Kristen’s room when the doorbell rang on my way to the garage. I called down the hall, but she didn’t hear me. Figured I might as well make myself useful, so I answered it.
The woman on the front porch wasn’t what I expected. She could have been Kristen’s grandmother. Maybe she was her grandmother. She looked like she was pushing seventy. Still good-looking though. Kind of regal.
I saw Kristen’s high cheekbones, petite frame, and large eyes. Her gray hair was pulled tight into a neat bun. She wore pearls.
When she saw me, she gave me a raised eyebrow and looked me over like I was a wine list that didn’t have her year.
“Well, hello. Is my daughter available?” Her eyes flicked coolly to my wet hair.
“She’ll be right out. Come in. I’m Josh, her carpenter,” I added, giving her a hand to shake.
“Evelyn Peterson.” She shook my hand firmly and then looked around the living room while she fished a small bottle of hand sanitizer out of her purse and squirted some into her palm.
It was a little rude, but I watched this with amusement.
I saw where Kristen got her scowl from. Evelyn did not look pleased.
“I hope you don’t take the state of this house as evidence of a poor upbringing,” she said, rubbing her hands together and eyeing an empty beer bottle and dirty plate on the coffee table. “Kristen grew up with a housekeeper, but I’d like to think I instilled a sense of pride in her.” She wrinkled her nose at one of Stuntman Mike’s half-chewed bones on the floor. “Even if it’s not always apparent.”
Kristen’s house was spotless. You’d be hard-pressed to find a dust bunny under the couch. Who gave a shit about a beer bottle and a plate?
She moved around the coffee table and picked up a green dachshund sweater from a stack Kristen had been inventorying. It read I SEE YOU LOOKING AT MY WIENER. Evelyn grimaced and set it down with two fingers.
My mom would have thought that shit was hilarious. Evelyn wasn’t a wiener-joke kind of lady, I guess.
I was starting to get a little uncomfortable. Too pretentious for my taste. Still, I was kind of her host at the moment, and I had to entertain her until Kristen took over.
“Uh…can I get you something to drink? A water?” I asked.
Her steely gaze settled back on me. “Thank you, no. Where is Tyler?”
“I’m not sure. I just work here,” I said. It wasn’t my place to tell her about the voicemail breakup.
She narrowed her eyes. “Hmm.”
Kristen came around the corner, her hand to her earring, and she stopped cold when she saw us together. Then she did something I have never, in the entire time I’ve known her, seen her do.