Page 27 of For the Record
McCoy: 7. I’ve had the same password since highschool.Iluvb00bies96lol. I’ve tried to change it a bunch of times but can never remember the new one.
McCoy: 8. I probably shouldn’t have told you that. Just in case you’re into cybercrime, ya know?
McCoy: 9. You have the most beautiful eye color I’ve ever seen.
She watched from the living room as her friends spoke in hushed tones in the kitchen. They were washing up the dishes together after a delicious meal of chicken cordon bleu and herb and garlic rice. Occasionally, one of them would giggle, and then a minute or two of silence would follow as they kissed. And each time, Sawyer looked away, uncomfortable. It wasn’t sex itself that bothered her; she and Olivier had quite a regular sex life at one time. No, it was the unbridled passion emitting from both Cindy and Lori. Twenty-three years later, they still wanted to be together. Was it lust, or love, or both? Olivier had never looked at Sawyer like that, but maybe it was because he’d known. He’dknownshe’d never look at him the way Lori looked at Cindy.
“Admit it, you’re glad you came over.”
Sawyer looked up from where she was perusing the extensive vinyl record collection. Cindy was standing a foot or two away, two glasses of wine in her hands.
“What’s not to enjoy? The meal was superb, the company lively.” Sawyer accepted one of the glasses Cindy offered.
Cindy clinked Sawyer’s glass of wine lightly with her own. “Cheers. It’s good to see you too, old friend. Don’t tell her I toldyou, but Lori was beside herself last night when I confirmed you were coming. I woke up to her baking fresh sourdough bread.”
Sawyer’s answering grin was small, but the confession left a comical image of Lori racing frantically around the kitchen before she had to leave for work. Lori wasn’t a chef by any means, so the effort made it all the more special to Sawyer.
“Ugh, I’m stuffed.” Cindy patted her stomach and led the way to the sofa. She flung herself down, some of the wine tipping out onto the sofa and floor in the process. Sawyer’s eyes widened as she tried not to think of the stain it would leave in the microsuede. “How’s Bree doing? She’d mentioned something about social work not being what she’d had in mind the last time she FaceTimed Lori and I.”
“Really?” Sawyer was genuinely confused. Anddisappointed. It was the first she’d heard of it, and she usually spoke to Bree at least once a week. Why was she the last to know about the goings on with her daughter? She opened her mouth to say so when Lori strolled into the living room.
“What’ll it be? Scrabble, Pictionary, or Ticket to Ride?”
“Master Chef?”
Cindy and Lori groaned at Sawyer’s innocent question. “What? I haven’t watched the latest season yet.”
“You can watch that at home. C’mon, when was the last time you stayed for a board game?” Cindy asked, tossing the throw pillow in Sawyer’s direction.
“Fine, then. Scrabble.”
“Scrabble it is, then,” Lori announced, setting the game down on the coffee table.
“You’re nothing if not predictable,” Cindy added with a chuckle.
Sawyer narrowed her gaze on Cindy between sips of her wine, but it was true. At least with Scrabble, she could surmise the best way to accumulate the greatest number of points. She was a littletipsy, so she wasn’t thinking when she said, “Will there be snacks with this game?”
Lori laughed, climbing to her feet again. “I’m on it, Chef Lavoie.”
A gush of air left Sawyer as she blew a raspberry. “What an awful nickname.”
“Oh, you love it. Don’t even pretend otherwise.”
Sawyer rolled her eyes but found herself smiling. She stared after Lori as she disappeared into the kitchen, her long, flowing dreadlocks bobbing back and forth as she walked. Sawyer sighed.
Cindy nudged Sawyer’s hand, which was draped over the back of the sofa, her gaze trailing after Lori as well. A soft smile breached the edges of her mouth. “You could have what we do, Sawyer.”
Sawyer frowned, her good mood quickly fading. She was sick and tired of Cindy constantly in her ear about romance. It was highly overrated, short-lasting, and quite often fiction. “Ihadthat, if you recall. All it proved was how resilient I was. That, and someone actually being home when you got there wasn’t set in stone.”
“You had Olivier.” Cindy shook her head sadly. “He wasn’t your first, second, or third choice. Doyouremember? You told me that shortly after we met, how akin you felt to me right away. That seeing how I lived gave you the realization you’d needed.”
“Cindy, please.”
“The acceptance to be yourself.”
“I knew who I was. And so did Olivier,” Sawyer hissed, not wanting Lori to hear them. She looked away, lifting the wine glass to her lips. “Knowing and living your authentic self are two very different things, but you’ve never had to figure that out. Be glad for it.”
“It wasn’t always easy for me either, Sawyer.”