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It’s always about him. Even when it’s about me, it’s about him.
I exhale a heavy breath, wanting time with Lettie to talk through the kiss and if that’s the reason for her weird behavior the past week.
The manager calls us to the end of the counter and checks us in. I hand Lettie a key. “Have fun.”
“I will. You too.”
She knows I hate being paraded out like a circus animal. But worse, she looks relieved that we won’t be alone together.
Chapter Eleven
LETTIE
This is the life of luxury. Everything I’ve experienced has been gifted to me by the Greathouse family. Spring Break, Dane. Cruise to Mexico, Dane. Fancy restaurants, Dane. NBA games, Dane. Our 8th grade trip to Washington DC, Dane. Swim lessons, Dane. And of course, my riding lessons were free from the Greathouse Farms trainer.
But I’ve never seen a place so opulent as the Resort at Buttermilk Falls. Its rich earthy tones and heavy woods are the backdrop to crystal chandeliers and white chaise loungers. Homey, yet you know only rich people can afford to stay here.
A host shows us to the locker room and gives us keys and rules. No phones or watches. Mrs. Greathouse removes her Rolex and places it inside with the rest of her clothes and small purse.
I go to the bathroom and come out in my bathing suit. Mrs. Greathouse says, “We’ll do fifteen minutes in the hot springs to remove the toxins then we’ll get a massage and facial.”
“I was hoping to take a nap before the fundraiser.”
“You may have time. Let’s go.
We walk outside where the springs are surrounded by smooth boulders with guests relaxing against them, and some are wading in the center. Some with bathing suits and some without. Mrs. Greathouse has a great figure for any age but for fifty, I hope I look like that. It’s easier to be pretty when you have tons of money, and you can afford to get facials every day and spend five hundred dollars on a massage or thousand on an eye lift. I’m not saying she’s had an eye lift, but she has had several Botox parties where her dermatologist comes to her house, and she invites friends to have the out of office procedure.
She talks to a few people but then sits beside me. And when I remain quiet she asks, “Is something on your mind?” Dane’s mom has always been able to tell when I’m off. Not angry or sad, just off.
“Things are changing between Dane and me. In less than a year we’ll be living apart. It’s hard to think about.”
“Changing how?” his mom asks. “Have you talked to him about how you feel? Have you asked him if he wants to be somewhere without you?”
I shake my head. “For the first time there are awkward moments between us. I know we have to grow up sometime. I guess it’s a good thing I’m leaving next week for a month. It’ll be like a trial run.” I let out the mother of all sighs.
“You being gone is good because you’re striving to reach your goals, just like Dane is. Your identity isn’t as Dane’s best friend. It’s as a kick ass girl who has beat the odds of having shit parents. Excuse my language.”
A smile tugs at my lips. This is why I love her—she believes in me and wants the best for me, not just Dane. As I confide in his mother, who’s my step-in mother, worry creeps into my mind as I contemplate the possibility that she may see Dane and me as a couple, taboo. I jump in with both feet and say, “He kissed me last week. I wasn’t sure it was so fast, but it was different from any kiss he’s ever given me.”
His mom smiles. “What do you mean it was so fast and you’re not sure? He either kissed you romantically or gave you a peck like he always does. Have you talked about it?”
“No and everything is weird.” I explain the sunset, the glow necklaces and how he put mine on and then he lingered while leaning over my shoulder and I closed my eyes.
“Why did you close your eyes? Did you want him to kiss you?”
“I don’t know and why would he kiss me?” I stress the word would.
Mrs. Greathouse pats my hand. “You’re special to him. You must know that.”
Grateful for her words of wisdom, I have a sense of excitement that when Dane reaches the NBA, our friendship will continue. And I can’t help but feel comforted to have her as a mom figure and someone I can confide in.
Dane and I do have a special bond but is it unbreakable? He kissed me and then thought better of it. Or else why did he stop and not give me a chance to respond?
We would be lost without each other and if we entered into a relationship as more than friends and it didn’t work out, our bond would be broken. One of us would be hurting in the end.
Our host says, “Ladies, it’s time for your massage.” She holds out towels. “Miss, you need to take off your bathing suit and put it in the locker.”
“Yes ma’am.” After we dry off, she hands us robes.
