I didn’t accidentally text some other stunning acerbic blonde?
I want to show you I can make a space where you belong, too.
A space that feels like you.
Warm and happy and made from the most outlandish combinations that somehow still work.
Oh
Anne
You’re doing that for me?
Yes.
And for Brooke.
And for myself, too, I think.
Sweetheart
You know exactly how to please me, don’t you?
With a rush of heat that was honestly ludicrous, Anne fumbled her phone. Would Sadie’s praise ever not make her heart beat more rapidly? There was nothing in the world like unconditional approval from the person whose opinion she cared about most. But she couldn’t tell Sadie that, not now. Not yet. Some things had to stay private until—Annewouldavoid the conditional—they’d had the talk they needed.
Yes. Some things would be private for now.
Quickly, unable to help it, Anne glanced at her bedside table, where two recent deliveries waited: one small bottle of silicone-based lubricant—absolutely essential at her age—next to a four-inch pink vibrator with a white handle.
Her face warmed, remembering what she’d done with that vibrator just that morning, and the previous night, too; how she’d fucked herself and fucked herself and still, she’d wanted more.
Anne picked up her phone from the floor, shook her head to clear it, and began typing again.
Might want to hold off on any praise until you try the Kool-Aid pickles.
You know, I don’t know if you’re joking or not
And frankly I don’t think I want clarification
It’s a lot more fun that way
Look, Sam just called me for dinner, and if I don’t get in there fast he’ll inhale most of the brisket, so I’ve got to sign off
Enjoy dinner.
What an empty, worthless phrase, with none of what Anne really felt in it. If she hadn’t been holding back, she would’ve told Sadie any number of truths, the kind of honesty that, just a week ago, would’ve embarrassed her horribly.Don’t go. Stay in my phone. Come home. I think I can do anything, as long as you believe in me.
Her phone buzzed. She looked down at it.
I miss you very much. I don’t know a better way to say it. I miss you.
That was all. Anne waited with little breaths, just in case Sadie elaborated, but no more came. For a poet, it was shockingly plain.
But maybe that was the point. Sadie, holding out to Anne the simple core of all her pretty words. Reaching across the miles with what mattered most.
* * *
Sandwiched between a deli and a bank, the featureless building had clearly seen better days, its tan stucco peeling and badly in need of a fresh coat of paint. Inside it, the only furniture in the front office was a desk arrayed with scattered papers.