She doesn’t give me time to reply before turning her back and walking over to one of the many boxes piled in the room and undoing the tape. It gets me thinking, though, that she’s right.
I missed Leighton all the years we weren’t together. I survived, and thankfully she did too. But what would have happened if we never got separated? It’s a scenario my mind has wandered to way too many times, and all I want is to be sure we’re not pulled apart again.
And before I know it, my eyes travel back down to the cloth-covered ass bending down to pick up a different box.
I peel my gaze away quickly.
Fuck me.
I knock on the open door and look around the pale-yellow bedroom that’s only a room away from mine. “Pizza’s here.”
Lenny is flattening a black and white comforter across her bed that has some sort of floral design on it. It’s nothing like the “plum purple”, which is not regular purple as I was corrected by her once before, that she used to have when she lived at Harry’s with us. She’s always been into HGTV and home magazines and obsessed with paint samples and interior design. There’s a shade for everything, and she’ll almost always know it.
The room is half-empty. Barely any decorations, and only a few pieces of furniture, take up the space. Nothing matches. The bedframe is made of aged wooden bars bent into random ass shapes, the nightstand is black plastic and looks like it’s missing the handle, and the dresser is brown wood with marker and stickers all over the side. If I hadn’t known Leighton before, I wouldn’t think twice about the naked walls bearing no posters or pictures, or how there’s a lack of books stacked in the corner that would be taller than her if they were piled up.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks sheepishly, sitting on the edge of her bed. At least that’s new. I bought us both queen-sized mattresses much to her dismay.
I walk in and study the one frame resting on the top of her dresser. The glass is cracked, and the photo looks faded, but it’s Katherine and Leighton from when she was younger. Younger than when she first came here based on the braces I don’t remember her having in the big smile she’s showing off.
Leighton walks up beside me. “Wasn’t I just adorable?” she asks sarcastically, picking up the frame and making a face at it.
“Yes,” I answer without a second thought, taking it from her. In it, her hair is in two braided pigtails that fall past her shoulders like they always were before and the dress she’s wearing has a picture of the sun on it and “be happy” printed in block letters. Putting it back, I trace my fingers along the marker-drawn pictures on the side of the dresser. “What’s all this?”
There’s a lapse of silence. “It’s from home. Used to be my mom’s, but then we had to share it. That was hard because she had a lot of clothes that didn’t fit in her closet.”
My face screws. “You had to share a dresser?”
She shrugs, not giving me a direct confirmation, and it bugs me. “Anyway, whenever I’d get mad at her for something I’d draw on it. I’m not sure why because I always cried when she yelled and put me in time out, but…” Her lips rub together as she stares solely at a picture of two stick figures holding hands. “I guess I just wanted her attention in any way she would give it to me.”
I back up, looking around at the boxes left. I’m not going to push her on sharing what happened between her and her mother. The heaviness, the longing in her tone warns me she’ll tell me when she’s ready. “If you need help finishing up, I can give you a hand after we eat. Pizza is getting cold.”
Scoffing, she elbows me in the side as we exit her room. “Like you care. I remember you eating cold leftover pizza from the fridge. Mia and I would always tell you how gross it was.”
Grinning, I let out a soft chuckle. “Our mom eats it the same way. Anytime we’d get pizza for dinner, she’d have a leftover slice for breakfast the next morning. Cold.”
She says, “I remember you telling me that. Do you two still talk a lot? She used to call every other day to check in.”
I haven’t spoken to my mother in a few days because she knows I’ve been busy. When I left California, she praised me. I think she was genuinely proud of me for walking away like she was afraid to do for so long. Since telling her I was moving back when I saw her at Mia’s the first day, things have been…tense.
“Not as often,” I admit carefully. The last thing I want is her blaming herself, which she’ll undoubtedly do. Truth is, I’ve been thinking about buying a place around here for when I visit that way I don’t have to stay at Mia’s. This just pushed that decision along faster. “She’s doing well. Dating some retired actor that you didn’t get to meet the other day. They’ve been together a long time. He seems nice. Better than Harry. Treats her well.”
“I’m glad.” I know she means it to, making me smile down at her. She knows family is the world to me. While I may not be on good terms with my sperm donor, I’ve always looked out for my mom and sister. Their happiness is mine.
I serve us pizza in the kitchen, and we carry it to the living room to eat, taking opposite sides of the couch. Her bare feet are tucked under her while she eyes mine sprawled out on the coffee table. I get the hint and drop them to the floor, chuckling when she nods in approval and bites into a boring plain cheese slice.
She’s never wanted anything different. I made her try pepperoni once and she all but spit it out. Even her mother, who I hated agreeing with more than I did Harry, told her she was a picky eater and needed to expand what she tried.
Not wanting to buy more than one pie, I suck it up and split a large plain cheese with her. It isn’t often that I eat this kind of thing. My trainer would probably skin me alive if he knew I scarfed down three pieces tonight.
Lenny reaches for the glass of water on the table and takes a sip. “We could watch TV or something if you want. I know you hate eating in silence.”
I lift a shoulder. “Then talk to me.”
She blinks, the pizza slice frozen halfway to her mouth. “About what?”
“Anything, Lele. We still have a lot of catching up to do.” Even though we’ve seen each other every day the past few weeks, we haven’t gone into details about what we’ve been up to over the years. She admits she still follows me on social media, so she sees the basic shit I post to stay relevant but doesn’t know anything else. I don’t even get that curtesy with her because she has no accounts anymore. “Start with why you got rid of your social media.”
Setting her pizza onto the plate, she turns her body toward me. “I didn’t really have anything to share that I wanted people to know. It isn’t like I had many friends to keep in touch with when I left, and I wasn’t sure if you…”
Putting my food down, I say, “You weren’t sure you had me.” Watching her nod made my chest tighten. “Yeah, I can see why you’d think that. But I need to clear something up with you here and now. Me leaving had nothing to do with you. Not really. I was always planning on getting out of here. I’d had enough after seeing things go down between our parents.”
Katherine was exactly what I made her out to be from day one. A gold digger. She was always after my family’s money and the fame that came with being attached to the Bishop name. The affair she had with Harry when she was younger was her golden ticket, and she cashed it in when shit got tough. Leighton was a pawn that she used like the rest of us and I wished she hadn’t been. Honest to God, I wish I could go back and change how her mother’s choice impacted her. But then there’d be no Lenny, no friendship, and I’m not sure I’m selfless enough to say goodbye to that again.