I turn around and see Jo, looking as beautiful as I remember. Her chestnut brown hair is now painted with copper highlights and is pulled up in a messy bun with curly tendrils framing her round-shaped face. A pale-yellow sundress adorns her naturally tan body, accentuating her tiny waist and curvy hips. Her make-up is minimal, but Jo never needed make-up anyway. Her dark brown eyebrows are furrowed, and there's cynicism and suspicion in her violet eyes that wasn't there when we were young.
I walk towards her, hesitating a bit, and try to think of something – anything – to say to her after all these years.
"Hi, Jo."
"Hey." She crosses her arms against her chest. "I heard you were back. I was wondering if I'd see you."
"I'm not back permanently. I'm just visiting."
"Oh." Her eyes slowly scan the length of my body. "Okay."
I nervously pull at my collar, suddenly uncomfortable in my Chanel t-shirt and shove my hands in the front pockets of my black, 7 for All Mankind skinny jeans.
"How've you been?"
She sighs. "Good. Busy. How about you? How's New York?"
"New York is good – it's great. I can't wait to get back." I turn away and scan the room, pretending to check on the children so she can't read my face and figure out what I liar I am. "I mean, it's nice to get away, but yeah, I'm super excited to get back."
"Uh-huh." She huffs a laugh. "Delaney, I was your best friend for fifteen years. I know when you're lying."
There used to be a time when it seemed like Jo could read my mind. She'd finish my sentences before I even knew what I was trying to say. Greyson used to tell people we shared a brain. But it hasn't been that way for a while.
I guess old habits really do die hard.
"Momma!" Hannah exclaims.
The pitter-patter of little feet saves me from having to tell Jo why I'm really home. The embarrassing truth of what happened in my marriage.
"Hi, baby!" Jo bends down and picks up Hannah, setting her on her hip. "How was your day?"
"Dis Laney. She my new fwiend."
"Is that so?" Jo asks. She leans in and places several kisses on Hannah's chubby cheeks. "And how did that happen?"
"We may have bonded over my minimal Disney knowledge and If You Give a Mouse A Cookie," I say.
"She was cwyin' and I helped hew," Hannah announces. She's so proud of herself I can't be mad at her for outing me. "Wight, Laney? I made you feel bettaw."
"That's right. You were so helpful."
Jo moves Hannah onto her other hip and looks at me questionably. "You were crying?"
YOU ARE READING
Where the Waves Whisper
RomanceDelaney James seems to have it all-a successful husband, a stylish Manhattan townhouse, and a thriving career in fashion journalism-until it all falls apart. Her husband leaves her, shattering the perfect life she once knew. Heartbroken and desperat...