“Thanks.” I scanned the room for a clean place to set my bag before giving up and leaving it on the floor by the door. Only then did I recognize an old Bruce Springsteen song playing in the background, laced with the distinct sound of vinyl. “Did you get the records back?”
“Yes!” She nodded. “I tracked Max down in New Jersey and threatened him, so he gave me the name of the guy he’d sold them to.”
Only Erin would take risks and make threats to resolve her problems. “How could you confront that guy by yourself? That’s dangerous.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not that stupid. Rodri came with me, but that hadn’t been necessary. Eli was awesome.”
Her sudden smile hinted at something more than mere gratitude.
“Eli?”
“Eli Woodruff. He lives here in town.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, swaying. “Very chill and understanding. He was hot, too. I know it’s not the time to start up with someone new, but there is something about him that presses my buttons.”
Her moving on from a long-term relationship faster than Speedy Gonzales reminded me of Lyle, prompting a burst of anger. “Did he ask you out?”
“No. We barely talked. Like I said, Rodri was there, so it was all about the albums. I did get a peek inside his place. It’s super cozy. You’d like it—very tidy.” She gesticulated like she was re-creating the space in her head.
“Does he have a girlfriend?”
“No idea, but it sounds like you hope so.” She frowned. “I really didn’t get a chance to learn much, but I think he’s sad about something. He looked a little sad, anyway, but I could be wrong.”
At times, my sister’s severe hair, piercings, and such made her appear intimidating, even threatening. But her animated musing made her very attractive, even if I envied the sweet rush of a new crush. “What’s he look like?”
“A ’90s-era Jared Leto. And there were guitars everywhere. I saw at least six.”
“Another musician.” I hoped my eyes hadn’t rolled again, but, truly, hadn’t she learned her lesson with Max?
“I have no idea, but I know what you’re thinking. A—you’re wrong, this guy’s not like Max. He has his own house and he lives like a grown-up. He looks a little older, too . . . maybe Kevin’s age. And B—I’m not seriously looking.”
“So you don’t plan on calling him?” My sister was bold that way, unlike me. I always waited to be asked.
“Wow. I see you’ve taken a crash course in interrogation from Mom.”
“I’m not interrogating,” I said, although maybe I was. “I’m curious, that’s all.”
“Well, I offered to make him free soaps or give him free private yoga lessons, since he lost his money on the albums. If he tracks me down, I’ll see what happens.” With that, Mo came over and jumped on her. She scooped him into her arms. “Oh, don’t worry, Fluff. You’ll always be the real love of my life.”
Lyle was allergic to cats and said dogs were babies that never grew up. But I liked both. If I had a pet now, maybe I wouldn’t be so lonely. I glanced around Erin’s apartment, which hadn’t much clear floor space. “Maybe I should help you straighten up in case he wants to come do yoga?”
Erin glowered. “No. This is me in all my glorious mess. Either he likes me or he doesn’t. I won’t pretend to be you to impress him.”
“I doubt he’d be impressed by me. Especially lately.” Nobody would.
“Well, he hasn’t called, so clearly he isn’t impressed by me, either. Guess we’re both having a losing streak lately.” She laughed at her offhand remark, which told me she didn’t mean it as an insult. It hurt anyway. “Besides, my main focus is on myself and my business, so love will have to wait. But what’s this help you need from me?”
“Oh, that.” I’d almost forgotten the reason I came. It had been nice to think about something other than Lyle and Mom for a few minutes. “Can we sit?”
“Want some iced tea?” She set Mo back on the floor and trotted over to the refrigerator. Mo followed and stopped at his water bowl.
“Sure.” I sat at the little dining table. One end had enough clean space for a couple of glasses. The rest was covered with all kinds of products, some of which smelled like pine and citrus. Both were better than the patchouli odor that had clung to Max like a second skin. “You know, with school ending soon, I’d be happy to help you organize Shakti Suds. Maybe I could help you with a newsletter, too? I’ve done a lot of them for the nursery school.”
Erin handed me a glass before taking a seat beside me. “Maybe, but let’s talk about why you came over.”
Once again she ignored my offer of help. Our long-standing dynamic.
“Well.” I sipped my tea, working out the best opening. “The EMTs were at Mom’s today.”
Erin lurched forward. “Why?”
“She’s fine now . . . sorry. I should’ve led with that.” Her panic threw me. Erin put up such a good front of not caring that I sometimes forgot it couldn’t be true. “Mrs. Morton found her passed out beside her mailbox. She’d fainted. No major injuries.”
“Why did she call you when I live closer?” Erin scowled.
I suspected because I ran into Mrs. Morton regularly when stopping by our mom’s, but I didn’t want to escalate hurt feelings. “I’d given her my number after Dad died . . . for emergencies.”
“Oh.” Erin sat back. “Does Mom faint a lot?”
“Not that I’ve ever known.”
“Well, lately she’s been more stressed than usual.” Erin didn’t say more, but I guessed we were both thinking about Lyle and the loan.
“I’m getting concerned.” I risked another glimpse of my sister. “I know she’s only sixty-two, but she’s still grieving Dad’s death—”
“Of course she is,” Erin interrupted. “I still am and probably always will.”
“As will I.” My chin tipped up, resenting the implication that her being Dad’s favorite meant she grieved him more than I did. “All I’m saying is that with this extra financial stress . . . I think she’s alone too much.”
“What’s being alone have to do with her fainting?”
“I think loneliness is affecting her—she’s not sleeping and eating well.”
She nodded, tapping her fingernails on the table. “You don’t like being alone, either. How are you holding up?”
Dissecting myself had not been the purpose of my visit, yet I needed to talk to someone. Mom wasn’t an option, and I refused to go outside the family in case Lyle decided to come home. That left me with no choice but to take a leap of faith. “So-so.”
Erin listened to my update about Lyle’s phone call, his indecision, the flowers, and the deed. If I’d expected her to see anything positive or hopeful, I’d be disappointed.
“What a dick—keeping you on the hook like that. Making out like he’s the poor ‘torn’ victim, then sending you flowers? Total BS.” She grabbed my hand. “You know, this is his loss. Tell me you know that and then walk away.”