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Lauren doesn’t wait for her turn. She flanks me on the other side, tugging me her way for a hug as well. “Caleb, too. He’s mentioned you so often I feel like you should’ve been here with us all this time.”
Wow. I hadn’t been sure what kind of welcome I’d receive. Because both women are with the two men I consider my brothers, I knew they would be welcoming to some extent. This gushing, super-easy acceptance is hard for me to get used to, though. They might have heard of me, but I’m still a stranger.
Smushed between them and still holding my bag, I’m at a loss for how to react or reply. I can’t hug them back. My arms are trapped at my sides, but even if they weren’t, I wasn’t prepared for this. Most of the women I know are mere acquaintances. Classmates at the university came and went, and I kept them at a distance so I could dive into my studies and avoid college drama. Colleagues and instructors were more like necessary stepping stones for me to file away for future reference. And further back, I lacked friends as a child, too. The one time I attempted to befriend someone purely for the sake of a friendship, not a transaction of popularity or anything else of a gain, my mother sent her away, deeming her too inferior for someone of my financial status.
I like to think I’m simply career-driven and focused on my goals, but facing these too-bubbly women emphasizes the fact that I really don’t have any true girlfriends in my life. I bet if I did, I would know what to do and say as they release me and step back.
A slapped-on smile has to be a start, I suppose, because they grin right back at me.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” Aubrey tells Lauren and nudges her with her hip. “Grab a bag, and let’s go before the truck is towed.”
Lauren giggles as she reaches for a suitcase handle. “Marian would never forgive us if we lost her new truck.”
I blink, stumped at so many things. Aubrey can just tell her what to do, as though Lauren is her hired help? And Lauren isn’t offended? More than that, the women sincerely intend to help me with my luggage instead of asking for someone to do it for us. Dalton told me that the women were best friends, but their easy camaraderie is so foreign that I can’t follow. It can’t be a French versus American difference, but something else.
Am I really stuck up like Owen thinks?
“Ready?” Aubrey asks, tilting her head to the side.
I nod, banishing my thoughts as I follow the women. “I really appreciate you coming to pick me up.”
“Ah, no problem,” Lauren says.
“Sorry if we embarrassed you with the sign.” Aubrey sighs. “It was Dalton’s idea.”
“Caleb thought it would be funny,” Lauren adds.
The sign was fine. It’s my struggle to know how to act around them that’s tripping me up. “That sounds like them,” I say instead.
“Maybe it would have been better if Dalton and Caleb were here to pick you up,” Lauren said, “but we were just so excited to have another woman around that we couldn’t wait!”
I don’t know how to reply to that, so I stick with what I’m familiar with. Business, or more to the point, dresses. “And I’m excited to help you, too,” I tell them, eyeing Lauren. “I can’t wait to get right to work discussing your gown.”
“My gown?” She furrows her brow. “Oh! My wedding dress.”
“We’ll have lots of time for that,” Aubrey says. “We’ll let you settled in first.”
I don’t know how.
“Yeah, we want to get to know all about the exciting cousin from Paris!” Lauren gushes.
Me? Exciting? Yeah, right. But they try to unearth me as a figure of grand interest. On the drive to Dalton’s property, the women pepper me with questions almost to the point it feels like an interrogation. They keep it fun and silly, though, lighthearted enough that I don’t think about Owen, my dreams, or even Paris once.
By the time they reach the cabin and drop me off, I’m halfway warmed up to them, wishing I wasn’t so tired and jetlagged that we could spend a little more time together. It’s morning, though, and I’ve been on a plane all night. Jetlag catches up to me, and I find myself yawning nonstop as I wave at the girls as they head back to the truck they borrowed from Marian.
“Remember, Dalton’s made plans for us to meet up later in the evening. You’ll get your first chance to eat one of Marian’s famous dinners!” Aubrey calls back to me at the door.
Dinner sounds so far away, but I know it’ll be here before I know it. A nap is critical. I never believed in staying up to adjust to time differences. I love my sleep. I need my beauty and brain sleep, so I go to the largest bedroom and crash.
Or I try to. Sleep simply doesn’t come, and when construction noises start up outside, it’s impossible to relax at all.
“I know you’ve got your business ventures,” I grouse as I stare at the ceiling, “but I didn’t realize you meant they were happening on your land!”
My headphones don’t block the sounds. Slipping in my earbuds doesn’t cut it, either.
I try to find a Zen place and ignore the distant distraction, but it just does not work.
Fed up, cranky, and about to snap, I growl as I get to my feet. I go to the sliding glass doors and wrench them open. They’re stiff to move, but with some elbow grease, I manage a wide enough gap to step through. Mindful of the wet wood, I walk across the deck and wave both arms to capture the attention of the construction crew at a cabin adjacent to mine.
