Page 12 of How Dare You

I mouth Joanie’s name to Bea, who’s teasing her shag haircut with her fingertips in the reflection of a mirror across the room. She raises her brows, nodding in understanding. This was not unexpected.

I pull out my planner, scanning through my schedule for the afternoon. “Have they been installed yet?”

“No,” Joanie snipes. “I wouldn’t let them install these. Are you kidding? They look ridiculous.”

It takes a couple minutes, but I convince her to send me a picture. The pendants are exactly what we created renderings off, she signed off on, and we custom ordered for her. But, sitting on the kitchen counter, instead of hanging from her eleven-foot ceilings, they look ridiculous.

“I’ll head over there in a few minutes, and we can get this sorted out together.” I say, crossing Shephard Presentation off of my calendar and replacing it with Birch Lighting. She agrees, somewhat reluctantly, but I’m sure I’ll be able to talk to her down in person.

After we hang up the call, Bea taps the to-go container that holds my salad with her fork. “You have to eat this before you leave.”

The rest of the day follows a similar path, filling up with disasters, big and small, without getting to check a single thing off of my original to do list. But fortunately, it’s Monday, and I have a standing appointment for a massage after work.

I call Sadie on my drive over. “Devon,” her voice comes through the speakers in my car, quieter than usual.

“Hey, gorgeous. Those cookies you sent were everything.”

“It’s all I could do from here.” A heavy door closes in the background, and her voice gets louder. “You both have so much going on.”

“Are you coming down for Allie’s grand opening?” I ask, slowing my car as I come up to a stop sign.

“Hopefully, yeah.” Another door closes in the background.

My eyes narrow into a glare no one can see. “Did you just get in your car so you could talk to me?”

“I don’t want Jared to hear,” Sadie answers, her voice growing more animated with each word. “You’ll never believe what he did last weekend.”

“Bet I will.” Maybe it’s unkind of me, but I hope it was something awful enough that she’ll finally leave him.

“He told me he was going on like a guys’ trip to Seattle, right? But I follow all his friends and their girlfriends online. And one of the girlfriends was posting pictures in Seattle last weekend too, and I was like. That’s weird. And so, I did some more digging, and a lot of the other girlfriends were in Seattle.” My heart sinks, guilt twisting in my stomach for wishing he’d done something awful just a moment ago. “And then I found pictures of a couple girls who weren’t girlfriends—”

“Sadie,” I exhale with a sigh.

“I know,” she responds, voice growing quiet again.

“You deserve better,” I say, willing her to believe it.

“I know,” she says, the defeat in her voice implying the opposite.

“Do you?” I ask, turning out of my neighborhood.

“I do. I do. But we live together. We’ve been together forever. We have all the same friends.” Sadie lists the familiar excuses.

“Not all the same friends,” I object.

“Okay, other than you and Allie.”

“You can always come live with us. Honestly, I’d be shocked if Allie didn’t move in with Luke soon, so there’ll be even more room in the house.” I consider telling her that it would help me financially not to be covering rent for the house all by myself, admitting that I’ll be lonely without Allie in the house, telling her how much it would mean to have her here right now, but that would be too manipulative. If Sadie’s going to leave Jared and move here, it has to be her choice.

We have to cut our call short when I reach my appointment but agree to talk on my way home. Sam, my massage therapist, greets me and doesn’t say another word for the following hour. He’s one of my favorite people, and I barely know a thing about him. My racing thoughts calm, and I’m able to enjoy the reprieve of a clear mind. Make time for yourself isn’t one of my mom’s business rules, but it’s one of mine.

Bea likes to point out my lack of boundaries between work and personal life, saying I don’t make time for myself. But I have weekly massages, bi-weekly manicures, and I get my hair done every five weeks. Someday, I’d like to have self-care time I don’t have to build into a schedule, but until then what I have works for me.

Sadie is waiting in line at a fast-food drive through when I call her back. We stay on the phone for my drive home, while I make dinner and she eats hers in her car, and while I get ready for an early night in. She shares more details about everything she dug up on social media, the huge fight she got into with Jared about it, and the way he gaslit her—which she struggled to admit. She never outright says he cheated, but all the signs are there. We even go over some logistical details on what it would take for her to move here.

When we hang up, my hair is brushed, face is washed, and skincare is applied. I pull on my favorite cream-colored satin shorts and camisole sleep combo, tuck my legs under my duvet, and grab my cup of tea from the nightstand. I’m turning on the podcast I didn’t get to listen to over breakfast when a text from Rhett comes through. He doesn’t text me. After deliberating briefly which would disturb my peaceful evening more—reading his text or not reading it—I check.

Rhett: Alex said we’re starting a new job next week. Shephard something. Is that you?

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