“I don’t know. She hasn’t said much about it. Even to Theo.”
“Are you two okay?”
Laney was the one who ultimately spilled the tea to Emma about who was driving the go-kart that damaged the statue of Ol’ Snaggletooth, the miner, and that Theo ultimately went to jail for about ten years ago. It was a short stay, but it was hard on the whole family to watch him go through it.
And when Laney purses her lips again, I start to breathe.
“I don’t know if she’s okay with anyone right now. Including herself. It’s like seeing rain come from the sunshine.”
“You have to tell me these things,” Emma shrieks in the other room.
Theo says something quietly enough in response that I can’t understand him.
“Of course I can fix it, you big doof, but you’re going to have to give the IRS way more money than you would’ve if you’d told me. Do you like throwing money away? Wait. Stop. Do not answer that.”
I gulp.
Laney winces.
None of us are worried about Theo’s finances. The biggest reason Emma’s wedding implosion video went viral was because it simultaneously outed Theo as GrippaPeen.com’s most popular adult entertainment star, who’d previously only appeared on-screen faceless with his penis out while spouting inspirational messages and knitting hearts.
As for wasting money—he footed the bill for Emma’s wedding, since Chandler asked him to pay for it, and of course Theo didn’t hesitate, even if the two of them have never gotten along well.
Laney’s hinted he upgraded everything about her solo honeymoon as well, though I haven’t asked if that was before or after it turned into a solo vacation.
This Emma?
The screeching, angry, apparently sad Emma?
That’s the exact opposite of who Emma normally is.
And I still feel a crushing guilt for not telling her the secrets I knew about Chandler.
Laney squeezes my hand. “Any progress on getting your new boss to reconsider all of the changes? And I swear I won’t add any snarky comments about the helpfulness of powdered cheese.”
I grimace. “No. And the worst part is that I get it.”
“But you’re still organizing meals to his house and asking people to come have their baby showers and report card celebrations at the café.”
“Guilty.” I am one hundred percent on a mission to make sure Grey has it shoved in his face just how much the whole town loves the café and how much we love each other.
“Did Yolanda really tell him about the time you got busted up on Marmot Cliff after you’d had seven shots of espresso in an hour?”
“Yes, and she also told him you refused to join us because you were studying for a trigonometry test on a Saturday night,” I tease.
“I have so many more food fights to start.”
In true Laney fashion, after starting the food fight at House of Curry this week, she paid for a professional crew to clean it top to bottom the day after the party. She also paid for all of the food that was lost.
When she added the tip, Nani Parvati invited her to come back and start food fights every week.
I love this town. And my friends.
I just wish I didn’t feel so weird around Emma right now.
She’s always been the first person to tell me it’s okay when I’ve fucked up, the first person to tell Laney to be patient with herself when Laney was stressing with her own brand of parental-inspired perfectionism, and the first person to worry she’d unintentionally hurt someone’s feelings when she was trying to compliment them.
I should’ve realized Em’s stress over the wedding wasn’t normal.
She asked Laney to babysit Theo in Hawaii for the week leading up to the wedding.
That’s not like Emma.
It turned out well for Laney and Theo, but it’s still not like Emma.
“You didn’t answer Decker’s text about the college yearbook photo he found with your grandpa and Grey’s grandparents hanging out together,” Laney says.
I squeeze my eyes shut. That is something I’ve been trying to forget since Decker delivered the yearbook to my doorstep after work last night.
And for the record, I didn’t tell Laney that I didn’t answer the text.
Decker must have.
“Nothing about what I want to do with that information feels right,” I tell her.
She lifts her brows and waits, like she knows I mean it doesn’t feel right since I still want to sleep with Grey.
How screwed up is it to want to fuck around with the guy who’s actively making plans to destroy the place that built you?
When I don’t answer her questioning look right away, she grabs a plate of chocolate chip cookies from the end table next to her and offers it to me over the kittens.
“I’m still mad at you,” Emma says somewhere nearby.
I jump.
Laney jumps.
I don’t see Emma, but she’s definitely closer.
“I wonder if he tried that line about being fine with it if the government uses his extra taxes to fix up more roads on her,” Laney whispers.
“That’s a good one.”
“He was totally ready for her to be mad. He was debating something about paying the salary of the IRS agent who’d audit him too, but decided he didn’t want to push her blood pressure that far.”
We’re both still staring at the hallway that leads to Laney’s home office.
My heart is suddenly clawing its way up my throat, and it’s sharper than the kitten claws kneading into my thigh.
And there she is.
My tall, slender, blonde friend with the adorable pixie nose whose normally bright, happy brown eyes are dull and sad.
She has a computer bag slung over her shoulder, and Theo’s right behind her, his hand on her shoulder like he’s squeezing a silent I’m here if you need me.
“My other clients better not be as high-maintenance as you,” she grumbles, and then she freezes as her gaze lands on me.
My stomach threatens to toss every last cup of coffee I drank this morning. I finagle the kitten, tugging on it gently to try to untangle its claw from my clothes, prepared to rush across the room and strangle Emma in a hug, but make myself move slowly as I give a small finger wave. Both for the kitten’s sake and Emma’s sake. “Hey, Em. Welcome home.”
Her eyebrows furrow, and her lips wobble briefly, and then she fakes a smile.
I’m the reigning queen of fake smiles this week, but she threatens to take my crown with that forced happiness.
And it feels like my heart is pulling my throat with it as it thuds to the floor.
“Oh, don’t get up,” she says, pulling her computer and a stack of files to her chest like a shield. “Let the kitty stay put. Sorry. I have to run. Behind on work.”
“Right. Sure. Of course. Tax season. I know. But if you want to do our normal Razzle Dazzle film fest for a break—”
I cut myself off as she pulls a face I rarely see on her.
Even Laney seems startled by Emma’s outright horrified grimace.
“Thanks,” Emma says quickly, so many emotions that aren’t her normal joy flashing over her features, “but I don’t know if I’ll have time. I—I have to go.”
“Em—” Theo starts.
She cuts him off with a quick hug. “Don’t hide your money from me again. Talk to you later.”
She waves quickly at Laney and me, then dashes out the door.
My eyes get hot, but I will the sting away and look at Laney.
“She’s not mad,” Theo says.
He’s such a liar.
“She looks mad, and she’s acting mad,” I say.
“I can’t remember ever seeing her like that,” Laney agrees. She’s deflated too.
Theo shakes his head. “Never had a broken heart like this before either. Give her time. She’ll be back.”
“Did it hurt when she yelled at you?” Laney asks him.
He grins, but he doesn’t answer. A grey kitten pokes its head out of the kitchen like it’s making sure the coast is clear, and when Laney clucks her tongue, that kitten and two more dash out to join us. Theo scoops up two of them and deposits them in Laney’s lap with the first two, kisses her on the top of the head, and eyes me like he’s considering kicking me off of her couch.
Yes. Yes, they have an army of kittens that they saved in Hawaii.