APRIL 2nd, 1994, SEATTLE, WA
THE IDEA HAD not been hers — in fact, Jack was the one who had called Lindy's phone and invited her over to his house for Saturday lunch.
Lindy had been weary at first, for no other reason except that she'd been craving a day all to herself. In no way was she bothered by the idea of visiting another man's home for lunch, not when that particular man had been an incredible friend to her. If Kurt ever in the future expressed a problem with it, Lindy would have shut him down immediately.
She pulled her beat up car up to Jack's house, the very place that she had once thrived in as his steady girlfriend. It was neither big or small, and despite the amount of money that Jack had, the place was relatively modest.
There was a car sitting in the driveway that Lindy did not recognize. It was a sleek black BMW, complete with shiny rims and a spotless detail paint job. Lindy raised a single eyebrow, apprehensively parking her car a good distance away from the BMW and wondering if Jack had perhaps recently purchased the vehicle.
She was early, but Lindy walked up the pathway to Jack's front door anyways. He was supposedly cooking her a meal and she wanted to help if she could, so as to not leave him on his own.
It was almost strange, being at the house that she had nearly wound up living in. If Lindy had not ended her relationship with Jack, the house she then saw before her eyes would have ended up being partially hers. It caused her to feel the remnants of old guilt, back to haunt her for leaving Jack once Kurt had come back into her life. The only way Lindy managed to reason with herself was by admitting that Jack hadn't been right for her. He was perfectly polite, kind and well off, but he was also conventional, and Lindy was far from conventional. Or at least, she didn't see herself living conventionally.
She walked up to the front door, crafted out of glass with a pattern of intricate designs carved in. from top to bottom. Ringing the doorbell, Lindy looked around, noticing the recently added plant decor and a welcome mat. Her nerves were kicking in, buzzing as she waited to greet her ex-boyfriend and now, one of her dearest friends.
A figure appeared behind the distorted glass, but it did not look anything close to Jack. When the door opened, Lindy came face to face with a stranger that was most definitely not the man that she'd been expecting.
In Jack's place was a tall, auburn haired woman with wine colored lips and shocking blue eyes, the kind of blue that only people like Kurt possessed. She was in a fancy black pantsuit and had the air of someone who had been in a fluster to get ready. She widened her icy eyes as her jaw hung slack. Lindy lost control of her facial muscles, feeling her forehead wrinkle with confusion.
"Hello," Lindy said, taken aback.
"You must be Lindsey," the woman guessed. Her voice was smooth and professional, though they were hardly in a professional setting. When her mouth broke into a welcoming smile, Lindy realized that she was not being snobby with her — her voice was naturally business-like, a reflection of her appearance.
"Lindy," Lindy corrected, an automatic instinct that she had been acting upon since she was a child. The woman outstretched her well-manicured hand, a diamond bracelet sliding down around her thin wrist as she smiled once again.
"It's great to meet you. Jack has told me so much about you in so little time. Come in," the redhead greeted, pulling the front door open wider.
Cautiously, Lindy stepped inside, becoming painfully aware of her t-shirt and jeans. Jack's house was a beautiful shrine to modern interior design and with the equally beautiful woman standing next to her, Lindy felt terribly out of place.
