To say that Lindsey had surprised by the message Marnie had sent would’ve been an understatement. She hadn’t been joking when she’d said that she wasn’t aware that they were that friendly. Marnie has always been a fixture in her life more or less — like one of the art pieces her mother enjoyed collecting: a part of the background and easily ignored. Recently, it had been more difficult to simply ignore her, and Lindsey had been attempting to play it nice. Not that she knew how to do that, really; she had a difficult time connecting with other people, she knew. She could admit that some of that was her fault, but the majority of it could be placed at the feet of everyone else — they were nuisances. So the irony of the fact that she was currently prepping for a night of wine and venting — an event that usually only took place with one’s closest confidantes — was not lost to her. “So, I’ve got an array of wines,” Lindsey stated by way of greeting when it was announced that Marnie had arrived. “And I’ve also got some pastries or the other that Wyatt made recently.”
