3
Laiken
“Laiken, you look beautiful.”Kay pulled me into a tight hug.
I let her warmth and familiar lavender scent wash over me. “So do you.”
She released me. Her hand trembled as she brushed invisible wrinkles out of her dress. “It’s rare I have an excuse to get dressed up these days.” Kay scanned the space, her gaze skipping over the people filling it to the bones of the room. “It turned out well, don’t you think?”
I followed her line of sight, tracking over the rows of bookshelves, large tables for studying, comfortable chairs and couches, and even a few computer terminals. “He would love this. I can see him curling up on one of those couches with one of those alien battle books.”
“One of his happy places, as long as you were with him.”
Kay’s eyes misted over, and panic gripped me. It was a delicate dance with Kay, walking down memory lane but not lingering for too long. Because she could get lost there and not want to return to the rest of us.
I squeezed Kay’s arms, bringing her attention back to me. “You’re doing a wonderful thing here. So many kids will get such amazing use out of this place.”
She took a shaky breath. “They will, won’t they?”
I smiled and knew it reached my eyes. “You’re giving them a warm and welcoming place to study. To work on projects. The library and the town will be so much better for it.”
“You’re giving it to them, too. This wing was your brainchild.”
I waved Kay off. When she asked me to sit on the board of The Jase Granger Foundation, I’d immediately agreed. Still, I usually took a backseat. “All I said was that we should do something with books and reading. You took that and ran with it.”
She grinned. “You know making plans is my love language.”
A smile stretched across my face as a million different memories played in my mind. Elaborate birthday parties, end-of-school scavenger hunts, backyard campouts. “You put a military strategist to shame.”
“Dang straight.” Her head lifted as someone called her name. “That’s Cary. I really should thank him for his donation to this project.”
I made a shooing motion. “Go. I’ll catch up with you later.”
She pulled me in for one more hug. “Love you, Laiken.”
My throat burned. “Love you, too.”
I watched her chat with Cary, making sure she seemed good. Stable. Kay’s emotional state could go from tough as nails to fragile as an eggshell in a split second. But tonight, she seemed good. I let out the breath I’d been holding.
In seconds, I was swept into polite conversation with one casual acquaintance after another. It was one of my least favorite things. That surface-level chitchat that didn’t give you even a glimpse into who you were talking with.
I liked people. Found them endlessly fascinating. But not like this. I craved raw authenticity. The kind that could terrify or comfort. Make you feel exposed, but at the same time, seen.
I excused myself from one such encounter and turned for the bar, knocking into another partygoer. “Sorry, I didn’t—” My words cut off as Lisbeth’s face filled my vision. Her strawberry-blond hair had turned to more of a true red since I’d last seen her.
“Laiken.” Her smile looked strained. Fake.
“How are you?” My question came out as more of a croak.
“Good. Busy. Things with the practice are crazy.”
“It was nice of you to come.”
Ten years. It was a lifetime and yet a split second all at the same time. She and Marisa had been my best friends, and now they were simply acquaintances at best. Lisbeth might be an acquaintance anyway. Marisa? She might consider me much worse than that.
“It was the right thing to do. For Kay and Chip,” Lisbeth said, her voice growing thick.
I swallowed as if that would clear the emotion from my throat. “Have you talked to Marisa?”