And then she was there. Adley. Opened the car door and slid inside and, without preamble, leaned over and kissed Sabrina on the mouth. Then she grabbed a fry and popped it into hers. “Hi.”
“Taking your life into your hands there, stealing my fries,” she teased.
“You wanna make out with me later. I’m not worried.” Adley grinned at her.
Sabrina laughed and reached into the back seat. “You’re not wrong. Here.” She handed over a second bag containing a burger and fries. “As ordered. Lettuce, tomato, mustard, no pickles, you weirdo.”
“Listen, I love pickles.” Adley took the bag and hauled out her own fries. “Just not on my burger.”
“I’ll say it again—weirdo.” She gestured to the center console where two large sodas sat. “Drinks are here.”
Adley unwrapped her burger and took a bite, then hummed in what sounded like relief and fell back against the seat as she chewed. “Thank you so much for this. It’s perfect. I really needed it.”
“Bad day?”
Adley hesitated for a second or two, staring out the windshield at the water before answering. “Kinda? Not work stuff, though.” She turned her head against the headrest so she faced Sabrina. “Can I talk to you about it if it’s not work stuff?”
“Of course.” It was odd, their no work rule, right? But being near Adley, Sabrina just wanted to be somebody else. Somebody other than who she was from day to day. And right now? She wanted to hear all about whatever was causing that cute little divot of worry between Adley’s dark eyebrows.
“So, I’m sitting at a stoplight today on my way to work—which I’m not talking to you about.” She winked and popped a french fry into her mouth. “And I look toward this cute little restaurant and see my sister, Brody, laughing and clearly happy, heading into a restaurant, the door being held for her by some guy.”
Sabrina nodded. She was watching Adley’s mouth as she talked. She couldn’t help it. Those full lips…goddamn. She gave herself a mental shake. “Okay.”
“And I’m thinking she’s having lunch with a coworker. Or a client. She’s an architect.”
She nodded again, watching the passion and emotion build in Adley’s face. In her body, the way she moved her hands as she spoke.
“But then he kissed her. Like, kissed her-kissed her. On the mouth.” Adley’s gaze met hers. “But he wasn’t her husband.”
Sabrina flinched. “Oh. Wow. I didn’t see that coming.”
“Yeah, neither did I.”
“Yikes.” Sabrina took a sip of her soda. “Did she see you?”
Adley shook her head and held her finger and thumb scant millimeters apart. “I was this close to honking my horn at her, but when the guy kissed her, I just froze.”
“I bet.” Silence reigned in the car for a beat or two. “You gonna say something to her?”
Adley sighed, ate the last bite of her burger, then shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. Should I? I mean, I should, right?”
Sabrina inhaled and crumpled up the wrapper from her burger. She put it in the bag and held it open for Adley to deposit hers. “What’s her marriage like?”
“I mean…” Adley stopped and seemed to really think about the question. Outside, the sky grew grayer, impending rain approaching over the lake. “It’s not something I ever really thought about. Nathan—her husband—is nice enough. I wouldn’t call him warm and fuzzy, but he’s nice enough.”
“Look, I don’t know your sister or her husband. Or you, all that well.” She grinned and Adley gave a small chuckle. “But I do know that nobody really knows what goes on behind the closed doors of others. I can’t begin to understand the marriages of some people. My dad is the sweetest man on the planet. He loves everybody. He was a nurse. Now he volunteers at a hospital helping dying patients. He’s just the kindest, gentlest man I’ve ever known. My mother? The exact opposite. She’s the head of a large corporation, and she’s very successful. She’s also cold and driven, and I’m surprised she ever agreed to be a mother.”
“Wow,” Adley said, her eyes wide, and Sabrina realized she really should dial it back a bit.
“Okay, that’s maybe a little harsh. She loves me. I know she does. But I think they adopted me because my dad wanted a kid.”
“You’re close to your dad?”
“Very.” A splat of rain hit the windshield, followed by another and another. “All this to say that maybe you don’t know what’s happening with your sister’s marriage. And maybe she could use somebody to talk to.”
“So your vote is yes, I should say something to her.” Adley chewed a fry thoughtfully. “I think I should, too.”
“Yeah?”
“I just needed somebody else to give me a nudge.” Adley met her gaze and held it.
“I get that.”
They were quiet as the rain increased, and then the sky opened up, dropping buckets. The car became rhythmic, and Sabrina felt somehow safe and protected, ensconced inside with Adley next to her, the scent of french fries still prevalent in the air.
“Why do you think your mom didn’t want kids?” Adley asked softly. It was growing darker by the minute, deep gray clouds rolling in off the lake, but Adley’s eyes somehow stood out as she focused on Sabrina.
Sabrina inhaled and let it out slowly. “I heard her talking once. To her secretary. I’d stopped by after school to say hi, and she didn’t know I was there. I had a basketball game that night, and I wanted to remind her, make sure she was coming.” She swallowed, the memory stinging her more than she’d expected it to, though she wasn’t sure why. “And as I approached her office, I heard her secretary remind her of a meeting, but then tell her she couldn’t run it too long because I had a game that night. And my mom sort of made this scoffing sound and then a groan like my game was the biggest hassle she’d have to deal with all day. Then she said—and I’ll never forget it—Do yourself a favor, Jeannie, don’t have kids until you’re over thirty and have a better handle on life. They are little energy vampires.” She kept her eyes on the storm through the windshield and had to work really hard to keep her eyes from welling up. Why? She’d replayed those words in her head a thousand times in the twenty years that had passed since. Why were they affecting her so deeply now? And then she felt it. Adley’s hand on her forearm.
“Oh, Sabrina, I’m so sorry. That’s awful.” And what Sabrina appreciated most—besides the physical touch, which she was starting to understand she craved more than she’d realized—was that Adley didn’t try to make her feel better. She didn’t make excuses for her mother, try to suggest she was having a bad day or something. Though maybe she had been. She just touched her arm, rubbed it softly, and sat with her. Several quiet moments went by before Adley spoke again. “I’m curious about something, though.”