Carry On Wayward Son by Tamie Dearen

Author:Tamie Dearen [Dearen, Tamie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tamie Dearen

15

RACE

Weeks passed, with April making steady progress on the condo.

“I’m going to need cooking lessons so this gourmet kitchen doesn’t go to waste,” I’d joked with April.

“Everly’s going to be using it.” April had said. “I’m sure of it. You two have been texting and talking almost every day, right?”

“Sure.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her our communications had been restricted to details about the loan and the Promissory Note that Everly had insisted we sign.

I didn’t trust myself around April. I attempted to avoid her, but that was impossible, since she’d been hanging out at our place on a regular basis.

Drake invited her over to binge-watch TV two or three times per week. It was impossible to hide away in my room when I could hear the lilt of her laughter in the living room. So I found myself sitting on the couch with April in the middle, way too close for comfort. Besides, if I’d left them alone, Drake might’ve grown closer to April than I was.

He was supposed to have taken her out on a big one-and-done date like Hank had done. Instead, he’d postponed the epic affair, claiming he needed more time to plan.

“I’m not going to make the same mistake Hank made.” Drake had bragged about his preparations. “We’re not going to a greasy hamburger bar, even if that’s what she thinks she wants. What women like is to be wined and dined. I’m really going to impress her—I’m surprising her with dinner at Urasawa. I bet no one’s ever spent that much on her before.”

I didn’t think April would enjoy having a man tell her what she liked, but I kept my mouth shut about the subject. I wasn’t willing to provide helpful advice.

On nights when April didn’t hang out with us, I got a progress-report call, which I much preferred to sharing her with Drake. She would catch me up on the progress in the condo, sending photos and videos and asking for feedback. Invariably, our conversations would wander to all sorts of crazy topics. We’d discovered a mutual love of roller coasters. April admitted she occasionally ate spoonfuls of peanut butter, straight from the jar. I shared how a trip to New Orleans when I was six had inspired me to be a musician, and how I loved everything about that town. She told me she was addicted to crafting and all things artistic and shared a photo of one of her mixed-media creations. She laughed when I told her it was museum-worthy, but I meant it.

When my phone rang Friday night, I was propped up in my bed, listening to an audiobook. I turned it off without a second thought, eager to see April’s smiling face on the screen.

“Everything’s moving along, smooth as glass. It’s going to look great when you show it to Everly tomorrow night.” She blew a stray strand of hair off her face, slightly smudged from whatever work she’d been doing. She flipped the screen to show the condo.

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