One String (Lighter Ones) by Aleatha Romig

Author:Aleatha Romig [Romig, Aleatha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Romig Works LLC
Published: 2024-07-03T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Marilyn

An hour and a half earlier

I text Devan, telling her I’m on my way. Ricky left for Riverbend thirty minutes earlier, after one more round of sex. The last time was in the shower. While I hadn’t expected him to join me, I didn’t exactly protest. The lack of condom usage adds a level of spontaneity that is exciting. Although it’s hard to tell by the perpetual smile on my face, I have sore muscles in places I forgot existed.

I keep telling myself not to get my hopes up. By the reflection of the smiling fool in the rearview mirror, I’m not listening to my own advice. Instead of reliving each and every moment of the last twenty-four hours, I sync my phone and turn up a new album by a popular musician, singing along at the top of my lungs about a sign on his heart being reserved for me.

Barren trees pass by the windshield of my car as I drive along highways and narrow roads, making my way out of the world I’ve chosen back into the one where I was born and raised. Nothing much has changed in Riverbend since I visited for the holidays. Driving down Main Street, I pass Quintessential Treasures, the Main Street Diner, and see the names of familiar staples. Even on a cold Saturday in January, people are walking up and down the sidewalks.

It's another ten minutes before I make my way out to Devan and Justin’s farm. The fields are plowed and frost-covered. I know from experience that winter wheat is waiting to make its sprouts visible. Turning down their lane, I pass the white barn, remembering all the fun times Devan, Jill, and I had in the dusty old structure.

As I pull up to their house, I notice Ricky’s Sonata parked by Justin’s old truck. After parking, I brace myself for a more difficult role than playing Ricky’s date last night—pretending there’s nothing between us, other than the partner dinner. Since we’d told everyone about the dinner, there is no use denying it happened.

Carrying my overnight bag, I head toward the house, taking in all the changes since Devan and Justin took ownership. The big front porch is still present with the pillars. A plume of smoke snakes through the sky from the chimney, filling the cool air with the aroma of burning wood. Instinctively, I reach for the doorknob, not bothering with knocking.

As a child, this home and Jill’s were my second and third homes. We all entered one another’s homes without knocking. Some things don’t change.

“Devan,” I call as I push the front door inward. I’m met with the warm, fire-heated air and a living room I barely recognize.

“Marilyn!” Devan screams, racing down the front staircase.

Dropping my overnight bag, I lift my arms and brace for impact. We hug as if it’s been years and not months since we saw each other.

When Devan pulls back, her smile fades. “No more lying to your best friend.” She looks even more forlorn.

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