Lex’s foot caught against the side of a cardboard box, and her knee twinged. She hissed against the pain until it dissipated.
She should be looking for housing, not packing her stuff. But she had to keep moving, doing something, so she couldn’t think about what happened.
The doorbell rang. She made her way through the boxes, sliding her feet in small steps.
Trish.
“Can I come in?”
Lex moved aside. “There’s not much room.”
Trish wove her way to the bed and sat down. Lex stood by the door a moment, then followed her to the bed.
Trish chewed the inside of her cheek, kept her head bent. “I’m sorry, Lex.”
Sometime last night, in resting in Jesus’s forgiveness of all her headstrong stupidity, her reasons for being mad at Trish seemed just plain dumb. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay. You were right about Kazuo. I let him tell me what to do.”
“He’s gone now. It’s over. Clean slate.”
But Trish started sobbing. “It’s not over. I slept with him.”
Lex jumped. But really, she shouldn’t be surprised. Hadn’t she suspected it, even though she shoved it aside in denial?
“I got drunk one night. And it happened.” Tears rolled off Trish’s nose and dripped onto the sheets.
Lex heard her own breathing in the quiet, heard Trish’s soft weeping. What was she supposed to say? To think?
“I’m so numb.” Trish sniffled. “Shouldn’t I feel something more than this?”
Lex understood numb. “I don’t know.” She stared at her hands.
After a few minutes, Trish rose. “I’ll go.”
“No, don’t go.” Lex reached for her.
“You need someone else with you.”
“I need you.”
“What could I ever do for you?” Trish’s voice broke.
“I love you, Trish.”
Trish’s face crumpled. She dropped back down to the bed, stuffing her head in the covers. She heaved and wailed. Lex touched her head, her shoulder.
It took Trish a long time to calm down. She lay staring at the wall.
“I never thought to ask God about Kazuo.”
“I never thought to ask God about Oliver. I never thought to ask God about anything I did. I just did it. And things got worse and worse.”
The doorbell rang. Trish bolted to her feet, then glanced at the bathroom.
Lex stood. “Go. I’ll get the door.”
She opened it to the sight of the top of a female head and a male chest. She looked down. Oh, Mimi. She looked up. Who was that?
Mimi pushed her way in. “You really need a larger place, Lex.”
“I’ll remember that when I win Publisher’s Clearinghouse.”
Mimi waved a hand, Vanna-like, at her escort. “Ta-daaaaa!”
Lex looked. Trish came out of the bathroom and looked.
“And?”
Mimi huffed. “Doesn’t he look like Oliver?”
Lex shrank back at the name. Trish took a step toward Mimi. “Are you nuts? What are you doing?”
“Grandma saw Lex last night with Oliver. This is Trey, who looks just like him.”
Trey smiled at Lex.
“You want me to take Trey to the wedding next week?”
“Bingo!” Mimi beamed. “Just be a little lovey-dovey with Trey, here, and Grandma won’t cut funding. I mean, that’s the only reason you were after Slimeball in the first place, right?”
Sort of. She’d wanted to conquer her fear, and Oliver had fit everything on her List. But right now, weren’t her volleyball girls all that mattered?
Lex stared at Trey, and the panic whirled like a class-five hurricane in her stomach, clawed up her throat, and squeezed tight. Her hands shook and she grabbed at the wall next to her.
Mimi saw the gesture, and her smile faded.
Lex couldn’t fail her girls. She couldn’t. It would be so easy to just take Trey to the wedding. She could do it. She could hold his hand —
She bit her lip and tasted blood. She screwed her eyes shut. She breathed in through her nose. Exhaled.
“Lex.”
She opened her eyes to look at Trish.
“You don’t have to do it.” Mimi shook her head.
“I can’t. I’m sorry, Mimi. I appreciate — ”
“That’s okay. Trish told me. Don’t force it. It’s okay.” She nodded and then hustled Trey out of the apartment. “It’ll be okay.” They left.
Now Lex had to tell the junior high girls.
She couldn’t do it. She’d had all the practice, and she couldn’t do it.
Lex sat in the parking lot outside the gym in her car — a rental Venus had gotten for her because Lex went back to work next week.
She stared at the closed gym doors.
She’d failed them. Completely.
She couldn’t pray. She had to pray. God, please. Wasn’t there something He could do?
Silence. But it seemed a friendlier silence than from the months before.
Please do something. She’d wait for Him to do something. She’d wait for Him, even if He didn’t do something.
Her phone chirped. “Hello?”
“It’s Mimi.”
“What’s up?” Lex started up the car.
“I’ve found housing for you.”
Lex slammed on the brakes. “Really?”
“Yeah . . . with me.”
She wished she could see Mimi’s face, because her voice differed from normal. “In your apartment?”
“No, a few months ago, Mom and Dad got me a condo. My roommate just moved out, and . . . Want to move in?”
“Where do you live?”
“South San Jose.”
It would be a commute, but . . . “How much?”
“Free.”
“Free?”
“It’s . . . kind of a dump. A fixer-upper. If you don’t mind.”
“As long as it’s got a roof and no rats.”
“Oh, yeah, nothing like that. I was going to ask a fix-it guy to room instead, but I know you don’t have anyplace and you’ll be having surgery again soon.”
“Yeah.” Lex had hesitated asking Venus to help her again, taking her away from work.
“Well, I don’t mind taking care of you. And I know you’d be willing to help with renovations once you’re feeling better.”
This whole conversation seemed kind of weird, but hadn’t Lex just been praying? “You’re doing this, why?”
Mimi cleared her throat. Hemmed and hawed a bit. “Well, you need help. I need a roommate. I know you’re strong. You’re the ‘reliable’ cousin, so Mom and Dad won’t freak out if I live with you versus some guy they don’t know. You’re not going to steal my boyfriends. I dunno. Do I need any other reasons?”
“Yeah.”
“How about you score me some sports tickets?”
“I guess I can do that.” She could ask for a few favors from scouts, alumni association reps.
“So we got a deal?”
“When do I move in?”