SHE STOOD IN THE DOORWAY OF THE guest suite of the Waite lake house and watched Daniel pull the linens off the bed and shake them out. “What are you doing?” “She was nice enough to let us stay here. I don’t want to rub it in her face by leaving a pair of my underwear behind.” “Well, check for my underwear, too.” Lexie wondered what kind of underwear Jen wore. How would it look lined up next to Lexie’s collection of lacy, stringy ribbons of fabric? From their one meeting, Lexie imagined Jen as someone with well-made, silky but sensible underwear. No prints. No lace. Nothing that would cut into her flesh, dissecting her body into graspable parts: cheek, cheek, crotch. Lexie had wanted to explore the house, to poke around Jen’s bedroom (and her underwear drawer) the way she’d poked around bedrooms as a babysitter in San Leandro (the way all babysitters since the beginning of babysitting have done). But she refrained in an effort to give Jen Waite the privacy she deserved after the generous gift of her home.
What do You think about The Trouble With Lexie (2016)?
