Page 4 of What It Means To Be Found

“Oh, I guess you have a point,” she nodded. “Where do you want to go? We have the condo in Laguna Beach being rented right now, but based on the lease they signed we could have them out within a month or two.” My mother lifted a shoulder as if uprooting a family renting from them was absolutely nothing. As if housing in Orange County wasn’t a massive clusterfuck right now, and that family would probably struggle to find somewhere to live on such short notice.

“No, no,” I wanted to shut that thought down immediately. I would rather die than live on a property my parents owned again, “I already found a room.” I smiled at some of the other members who were also having brunch in the country club dining room, waving a little bit as I avoided my mother’s gaze.

“I’m sorry, a room?” she asked, disgust blanketing her tone.

I nodded. “Yes, it’s affordable. And I already know the other two women who live there.” This was also something I was going out of my way to pretend wasn’t awkward. I was moving in with Beck’s grandmother, Susan. That’s right, I was moving into my ex-boyfriend’s, current girlfriend’s, old bedroom. Her grandmother was around seventy-six years old now and liked the idea of having roommates around just in case. Courtney was already renting the room right across the hallway from mine.

We had been helping Beck move her boxes over to Adam’s condo when they mentioned that they hadn’t found someone to take over Beck’s room yet. It wasn’t an urgent need since the mortgage was already being split two ways between Courtney and Susan. That was when I had mentioned in passing that I might be interested in staying there, and to my surprise, everyone jumped at the idea.

I had movers loading my things from my parents’ house and taking it over to the townhome at this very moment while my father was at the office and my mother was here at brunch with me. They couldn’t stop me, and it would already be done by the time we were finished here.

“Honey,” my mother gave me a disbelieving look, “You know you don’t need to live in such confinement. Your father and I are happy to help cover things if your little job can’t afford a more functional space.”

I tried not to be offended by her condescending tone, mostly because I knew that my mother truly didn’t mean to belittle me this way. My “little job” was just that to her. It didn’t make sense in her mind for me to work forty hours a week when she and my dad were capable of providing everything that I needed so that I could be comfortable.

I just didn’t want to be comfortable anymore.

“Hey, girl, hey!” I heard Lucy’s voice call from the side. Though her voice now sounded like nails on a chalkboard in my mind, I was grateful for the interruption. I turned away from my mother and smiled at my old friend.

Old, because I hardly hung out with her and the others at the country club anymore.

I stood from my chair and wrapped my arms around her in a hug that she happily returned.

“Hey, you!” I grinned, trying my best not to make it a grimace. Lucy used to be my best friend. Used to be, because I had realized way too late in life that best friends don’t consistently bail on you, they don’t say mean things about you behind your back, and they don’t try to go after your ex-boyfriend once it was obvious you two weren’t going to get back together.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” Lucy smiled, sitting down in an empty chair at my mother’s table. She was wearing a swimsuit cover-up, clearly getting ready to tan by the pool.

“Oh, there’s Barbara. I’ll be back in a moment.” My mother stood from her chair and gave me a quick kiss on the head before she hurried off to one of her old friends. I felt my shoulders visibly relax with her absence, which really said a lot.

“I know, it’s been a while,” I smiled at Lucy. She was beautiful. Tanned skin, bright red hair, bright green eyes, and lips that she had just recently gotten filler in.

“So, what’s new? How are you?” she asked, leaning her arms on the table as if she was going to settle in. I knew better. It took all of one second for her to lean back and hold her palms out to me. “Oh! Did you hear about Connor?” Of course. She didn’t actually care about what I had been up to. In a way I was grateful, it made distancing myself from her that much easier.

However, the mention of that man’s name made my gut sour again.

In the last five minutes of speaking with my mother, and now this conversation with Lucy, I had gotten a blatant reminder as to why I avoided coming back to the country club.

“No, what happened?” I asked, widening my eyes with fake curiosity for Lucy’s benefit.

“He and Michelle hooked up last weekend.” Lucy’s plump lips turned downwards with her eye roll. “Lucky bitch.”

I held my calm façade in place, glad she still didn’t know about my mistake with Connor.

Connor James was a friend of my father's. He was single, in his late-forties, and had a young daughter named Stella. She had Down Syndrome and was the absolute cutest toddler. He was blonde-haired, blue-eyed, tan, and literally a carbon copy of every other man in South Orange County. To be fair, he really was good-looking for his age. And that is the one thing I kept telling myself so that I didn’t spiral about how gross my decision was last year.

I had been upset with my father. He had belittled me again, unintentionally. I couldn’t even remember what he had said or done specifically, only that I was feeling very spiteful and petty.

Connor and the other men from the country club had come over to my father’s den for poker night.

During a break in the game where the men smoked cigars on the back deck that overlooked the ocean, I bumped into Connor in the hallway. Connor had let his gaze travel over my body, letting me know he definitely liked what he saw. That was all it took, really. To know that I could give my dad this one massive middle finger even if he never knew what happened. So, I flirted with Connor. He, obviously, flirted back. I hadn’t done anything more than slightly graze my fingers along his forearm in passing, and that was it. The next day, I got a call from him asking what I was up to that night. If I was interested in seeing some paintings that he had just purchased from the Laguna Beach Art Fair.

I wasn’t an idiot.

He wanted to get laid.

I was disappointed with where I was in life, and disappointed in my father, and wanted to make self-destructive choices.

So, I went over to Connor’s house.

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