I drew in breath but just to stay calm. Not because I had anything to say.
It didn’t matter, really. Lace wasn’t done talking.
“Honestly, with that brother of yours the way he was, I would have considered entering the mindfuck that was trying to get his head straight about two seconds before he made his bed and jumped in. Another fourteen million to keep me flush until I died, that brother of yours, no skin off my nose. You’re a saint getting this far. You did what you could do. Let it go.”
“First, Lace, I love him. He can be a douche, I know that. But he could also be cool, if he was around Dad or me long enough for the stench of Luna to drift away. So I don’t want him to make this huge a fuckup and screw up his life. And second, if I just let it go, it might be construed that I’m after half of his third.”
“Jus, damn, girl, nearly thirty mil from your dad’s estate on top of the royalties you got coming in and that continuing in perpetuity from Johnny’s royalties, even if it’s only a third? And this isn’t even getting into what your granddad left you, which set you up for life. You don’t need another fourteen million and everybody knows it. And, sister, I’ll tell you something else you already know, you already were and that’s off your own fucking back, not Johnny’s, not Grandpa Jerry’s.”
It was safe to say I couldn’t talk about this anymore.
“Okay, I love you. I miss you. I’m sorry my brother fucked what I’m sure was a show that you killed, drop the mic, top that. I’m glad you’re calling because I love hearing your voice. But can that voice not be talking about this for now?”
“Jus—”
“Gonna try him again, Lace. He’s not taking my calls. He won’t. He keeps up with what he’s doing, it’s not like I’m going to leave what I found here and hunt him down. Did that four times in LA before I left to come out here and each of those four times was more unpleasant than the last. Try again, then I’m done and the courts can take care of him,” I promised.
She hesitated a moment before she gave in.
“Okay, then I’ll let it go.”
“Thanks.”
“Now we gotta talk about Bianca.”
“Shit,” I again muttered.
“You hear from her?”
“No. I can’t say I’ve called much either.”
This made me uncomfortable. I should have called. But with all that was going down with Dad dying, Dana’s grief, mine, buying the house, Mav and Luna’s antics, Joss going into a dark space because Dad was gone and she’d lost her adulthood-long partner in constantly messing up the best thing that ever happened to them, I hadn’t had time for my girl.
I needed to make time for my girl.
“Concentrated effort,” Lace declared. “We don’t hear from her, we ask around. We don’t hear from that, when I’m out seeing your forest oasis in a few weeks, we’ll sort a plan to straighten out her shit.”
The upcoming visit from Lace, love.
Straightening out Bianca’s shit, not-so-love.
“We might have to sleep in the same bed,” I warned.
“Slept with you more nights than any man I’ve had, won’t be a problem,” she declared.
The memories that came from that made me smile.
Lacey switched subjects.
“Love for you to be on my tour.”
“Maybe closer to the end,” I told her because that would be early next year, after Christmas in Colorado in my new (hopefully by then, fully-completed) house. “I’ll join you, hit a couple of stops.”
Something to look forward to.
A change of scenery at a time that was much more time than I usually gave it that I’d take it.
“What I’m saying, babe, is love for you to be on my tour.”
I closed my eyes.
“Lace,” I whispered.
“All I’m gonna say. You don’t do my thing. Not sure you could put on even a single sequin and bust a move with ten dancers behind you. But you’d still kill. You always did. And it’s safe to say, lotta folks would love to have you back.”
“Mm-hmm,” I mumbled.
“Think about it,” she urged.
“Mm-hmm,” I mumbled.
“Pain in my ass,” she mumbled back.
“Lace?” I called.
“Yep?” she answered.
“Love you to the sole of my boots.”
“Love you to the tip of my stiletto, Jussy. Let you go now. I’ll be in touch about dates.”
“Can’t wait.”
“Me either, babe. ’Bye.”
“Later, Lacey.”
We disconnected and I put the phone down to lift my cooling coffee mug up (one of two I owned, both costing $3.99 on sale at the local grocery store, both having been chipped already as they were super-sized and being washed in a bathroom sink, not my most logical purchase).
I sipped and stared at the river, feeling the nip in the air.
Summer was closing, it was the end of August. The leaves would change. It’d get wet. Then it’d get snowy. Then it’s get wet again. Then it’d get warm.
Change of scenery in one place.
God, how had I not seen that was how life could be? Always chasing the horizon. Never realizing, if I stood still, the sun actually came right to me.
On this thought, I heard someone’s vehicle approach and I engaged the screen on my phone to see it was ten eighteen.
Max and his man.
Right on!
I pushed up from my chair, grabbed my mug and phone, and walked through the French doors that led to the private deck that jutted off the side of the house. I moved through my bedroom, in which I’d only put a big four-poster bed, two nightstands, a couple of lamps and a dresser. All new, picked for me, approved by me, ordered and arranged to be sent by the interior designer Dana used in Kentucky.