Maisie nearly parted her lips and said thank you, yes, I totally want this, but one thing stopped her. “There’s a lot going on right now in my life, and not only professionally. I don’t think it’s a good time to make any huge decisions.”
Clara smiled and patted the top of Maisie’s hand. “That’s probably the most mature thing I’ve ever heard you say.” She rose and placed a kiss on Maisie’s forehead. “You don’t need to rush anything, just take a little time, all right, figure out what makes you happy. You deserve that.”
When Clara reached the door, Maisie called, “I’m not the only one who deserves to be happy, you know.”
Clara’s smile softened, but before she could respond, a ball of energy suddenly burst into the room. Mason jumped, literally like a monkey, on her bed. Maisie snatched him up and smothered him with kisses.
“Ew,” Mason snapped, fighting to get away. “Stop kissing me, Auntie Maisie.”
“Never,” she said, pulling him in and kissing him again. “You’re just so loveable.”
Mason wiggled out of her reach, bounced on the bed again and then took off out of the room.
Clara shook her head at her son. “Well, that’s one way to get him out of here quick.” She laughed and shut the door behind her.
The clock on the bedside table read 8:30, Mason’s normal bedtime, and Maisie heard the old pipes complain when Clara turned on the faucet for his bath. Desperate to get lost in her sketch, instead of her tangled thoughts, she turned back to her drawing, unaware of how much time passed when there was a knock on her bedroom door. “Come in,” she called.
The door opened, revealing Penelope and Amelia on the other side, both wearing Yoga pants and T-shirts, typical girls’ night in clothing. Penelope was holding a pie and a bottle of wine. Amelia had three forks and wine glasses. All indicating that Clara must have called in reinforcements when Maisie’s sunshine wasn’t shining as bright tonight.
“We come bearing butter pecan deliciousness,” Penelope said, holding up the pie like a prized possession.
“Then you may enter,” Maisie said, and patted her bed.
She set her drawing aside on the bedside table, but Amelia caught sight of it as she slid onto the bed across from her. “Wow. That’s really gorgeous,” Amelia said. “Is that Hayes?”
Maisie nodded, dropping her pencil next to the drawing. “Yup. It’s a little rough because of the finger, but I’ll polish it up once the splint comes off.”
“Doesn’t look rough at all to me, but then again, I can’t even draw a stick person well,” Penelope said, sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed and accepting the fork from Amelia before pointing it at Maisie. “All right, girl, we’ve got pie and wine, and you totally killed it last night. You should be really happy right now, but you look really, really sad. What’s up?”
Maisie accepted the fork from Amelia and took a big bite of the pie. Her taste buds exploded with delight at the sugary sweetness before she answered Penelope. “My head is just…messy.”
“It can’t be that messy,” Penelope said. “Try and explain.”
Maisie inhaled deeply and blew it out just as slow. “I don’t know, I mean… When things began happening with Hayes, I asked him if we’d complicated things by sleeping together, and he said no.”
Amelia asked, “But it’s suddenly gotten complicated?”
“Complicated, yeah,” Maisie said with a shrug. “It’s just tense now, when it wasn’t tense before. I’m not exactly sure what’s going on with him, but something’s going on.”
Penelope swallowed a of sip wine and then asked, “Have you tried talking to him about it?”
“Of course, but he just shuts me out saying nothing is wrong.” Maisie dug her fork back into the pie, gobbling up the sugary goodness. “When I went to see Luna, she said he’s keeping a secret.”
Penelope cocked her head. “What secret would he be keeping?”
“I don’t know,” Maisie said, voicing the same thought she’d had over and over again. “But the more I think about it, and the way he’s been distant, maybe it’s that he can’t feel for me what I feel for him. And maybe he feels guilty about that, because after all we’ve been through, he should want to make me happy, but he can’t because his heart belongs to Laurel. I mean, maybe that’s it?”
“But Hayes cares about you so much,” Amelia countered. “Everyone can see that.”
Maisie acknowledged that with a nod. “Yes, but maybe it’s a platonic, just friends, type of thing, but he didn’t realize that until it was too late. Now he doesn’t want to say anything, too afraid he’ll hurt my feelings.”
Penelope snorted. “You’ve had sex with him. It can’t be platonic, babe.”
“Okay, true,” Maisie hedged, “but maybe he was just using me to blow off steam though, you know? Like he needed that release or something.”
“Which he could have had with anyone.” Amelia stuck her fork in the pie, cutting off a small piece. “I doubt he’d cross the friendship line with you if there weren’t something there. Did it feel disconnected, like just sex?”
Maisie slowly shook her head. “No, it felt like more.”
Amelia paused, chewing on her pie and then offered, “Well, I say there’s no sense beating around the bush anymore. Ask him straight out what he’s keeping from you.”
“Did that,” Maisie replied. “And he said he’s not keeping any secrets.”
Penelope asked, “Did you believe him?”
“No.”
Heavy silence filled the room. The type of silence that came from simply having no answers to a thousand questions.
Penelope finally broke the heavy silence, “What exactly does that mean for you two, then?”
“I don’t know.” Maisie shrugged. “He said he wants to talk tomorrow. One way or the other, I’ll hopefully get some clarity.”
Amelia studied Maisie. “As hard as it is, maybe it’s time to let go of Hayes. You’ve had your heart set on him for a long time. Take Seth last night. He’s hot and available, and was totally eating you up.”
“But there is a big problem with that,” Maisie said.
Penelope asked, “Which is?”
“My heart doesn’t want Seth.” Maisie stuck the fork back in the pie. “It only wants Hayes.”
Hayes wasn’t sure what had woken him during the night or how he ended up at his back door, but he stepped out into the fog in his backyard. The willow tree hemmed a meandering creek at the edge of his property. He recalled going for a run after talking with his father to burn off the shit going on his head before talking to Maisie tomorrow. But he couldn’t remember how he got here. The wet earth infused the air as he stepped onto the dewy grass, the soft squish of mud moving beneath his bare feet. Hayes strode absentmindedly toward the creek, pulled there by a force he couldn’t see but could feel. When he reached the creek, he noticed the rippling water slipping over wet stones, partially submerged twigs in the water, drifting leaves and air bubbles floating lazily downstream. But his attention shifted when he realized he wasn’t alone. The blond-haired beauty next to him, with the soft green eyes, and fair features, was no stranger. “Laurel?”