Page 131 of Perfect Mess

“Fair.”

“You didn’t see any of my texts?” I asked.

Gary shook his head. “Probably because I blocked you.”

“Fair.”

“How bad is it?” he asked.

“Hmm.” I rubbed my chin as a picture of Aunt Catherine’s dining room formed in my head. “I’d have to say … bad.”

“How bad?”

“On a scale of one to ten? Four hundred and seventy-two. But at least now the wall matches the little pink roses on the wallpaper in the kitchen.”

A semblance of a smile appeared on Gary’s face. But it disappeared quickly.

“Mary, I need you to tell me something. Honestly. No more lies.”

I braced myself for whatever Gary was about to ask. “No more lies. I promise.”

“What exactly did you want with Jack?”

I stared down into my cart, trying to figure out the best way to respond. I decided on the truth. “You want an honest answer? I’m not even sure.”

Gary cocked an eyebrow, like he didn’t quite believe me.

“It was never about him. At least not him, specifically. I think it was more theideaof him. Jack Thompson always had that effect on me. Me and a lot of other girls. Remember what Janet said that night at the brewery?” Gary nodded. “I think it was the idea that someone like that might be interested in someone like me.”

Gary nodded, seeming to understand, or at least pretending to. “And now?”

“Now? I’m done with Jack Thompson for good. If he makes Janet happy, then I wish them the best. It’s time for me to move on.” I continued to look Gary right in the eye, and he never flinched. “That is, move on and repaint my dining room wall before the open house.”

“You said the open house is Saturday?”

I nodded.

“This Saturday?”

I nodded again.

“Today’s Friday,” Gary pointed out.

“I know.”

“Come on Dad, we should help.” Kyle looked up at both of us, waiting for the two adults to arrive at the same conclusion he had about ten minutes ago.

Gary stared into my eyes, as if he was trying to read my thoughts. Luckily he couldn’t because what I was thinking in that moment was that I really, really wanted to grab the SourPaw out of Gary’s cart and guzzle all six bottles.

“I guess we better get moving then,” said Gary.

At first, I wasn’t sure I had heard him correctly.Did Gary just say he would help me?“You really don’t mind helping me? After everything I’ve done?”

Gary seemed to consider the question long and hard. A little longer and a littler harder than I was hoping for, if I’m being honest. Then his face got serious. I could tell he was sorting through whatever he was about to say. “Mary.”

“Yes?” I braced myself. When the silence lingered, I thought for sure that whatever was mending between us was about to spontaneously combust.

Gary took a deep breath, his eyes meeting mine. “If we’re going to do this, let’s just take it slow. No gimmicks. No games. Okay?”

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