Page 37 of Drowning Erin

I don’t know why I thought Erin would hear me out. Why she’d choose me over Rob with his degrees and his job and his 2000-dollar suits. I really did, though. And while a part of me hates her for her decision, the rational part of me says she made the betterchoice.

* * *

Once the holidays end,work slows and both Mike and Sully leave, which means I’m the only non-Italian at Bike Tuscany. The local guys are cool, but they’ve got their own shit going on. It’s still better than being in Colorado,though.

I’m reminded of this almost daily—every time I see a couple walk by with that same besotted look Rob and Erin had before I left, anytime I see a couple kissing. Or when, for instance, Rob calls to tell me he just bought a five-bedroomhouse.

“Why the fuck do you need five bedrooms, Hugh Hefner?” Iask.

“Well, it’s not always going to be just me here,” he says. “And I don’t know about Erin, but I want a lot ofkids.”

“Kids?You’re 25. You’re not even marriedyet.”

“It’s all down the pike, though,” he says. “Sooner rather than later, Ihope.”

“Don’t you think you’re moving a little fast? I mean, fuck, you just started dating her last fall.” I know I sound pissed off. I don’t give ashit.

“She’s not moving in yet. She thinks we should wait until next summer.” He laughs, and there’s a dirty edge to it that makes me wish I could reach through the phone and punch him. “I’m not worried. Eventually, with Erin, I always get myway.”

When we hang up, I go for a long run, even though I biked 50 miles earlier in the day. I’m not sure if I’m trying to punish myself or exhaust myself until I’m beyond caring, but either way, it doesn’twork.

28

Erin

Present

For the next two days,Timothy makes my life hell. He dumps more work on me than he does the rest of the office combined. He creates projects and demands first drafts within hours of telling me about them. On Wednesday, he sees me leaving two hours after everyone else and throws another job on my desk, telling me it’s due first thing in themorning.

He’s trying to punish me for not taking the fall, and the parallels between him and my mother surprise me. How is it that I’ve allowed so many people into my life who want to throw me under the bus the second problemsarise?

I call Olivia on the way home. She, naturally, tells me to quit. She also suggests that I could easily plant a car bomb in hisPrius.

“It’s so easy. One can of gunpowder and five rocket igniters,” shesays.

“I knew I could come to you foradvice.”

The truth is I didn’t call her to talk about work at all. I simply want to hear Brendan’s name, see how his new apartment is, and any other tidbits she might offer. I ask about the kids, about Will, about Peter and Dorothy. I wait and wait to hear something, but it nevercomes.

“Have you talked to Brendan?” I finallyask.

“No,” she says. “Why?”

“I was just wondering how his new placeis.”

And how heis.

And if he’s dating anyone, and if he missesme.

If he wishes he’d kissed me that night on the dance floor, or if he looks back on it like some kind of bizarre aberration, which I’m certain is how he looks back on the times he actuallydidkissme.

“I didn’t even know he’d moved,” she muses. “I bet you’re relieved,huh?”

I tell her I am. And of all the lies I’ve ever told, this is perhaps thebiggest.

* * *

On Thursday nightI’m up late again, struggling to keep my eyes open as I write copy for the world’s least interesting promotional piece on ECU’s new student diversity initiative, when the doorbellrings.

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