Page 56 of Margo and the Faux Good Luck Beau
I want to rush after him and explain that I’m not rejecting him, I’m just not sure where we stand, but the words catch and dissolve in the darkness.
In their place flows a river of doubt. What if Celeste is right? I mean, she is right. This whole thing started as a complete charade. But what if there’s something big I don’t know like he has a love child or an extra toe? That wouldn’t be a deal breaker. I love kids and maybe an extra toe helps with skating. Who knows. But I don’t want drama. There’s enough of that in my family, thank you very much.
However, I don’t want my sister or my mother or anyone else in my head, nagging me, niggling me.
When we get back to the condos, the building has a gym on the lower level and instead of going to sleep, I run on the treadmill until I outpace my thoughts.
With St.Patrick’s Day only five days away, Beau has given me no indication that the wedding is off, despite withholding the ring. Quite the opposite actually with questions about the venue and timing. I half expect him to slide the engagement ring under the door with a note that says something likeWear this in public.
On Tuesday, he texts me saying a driver is waiting outside to bring me to the Knights game against the Rhode Island Royals.
When I arrive, I message Juniper, telling her to look for me, waving at the cameras when they come my way.
Juniper: I’m so jealous. Please get me tickets next time they play the Kings.
Me: Only if you root for the Knights.
Juniper: I’m loyal to my team. You’re loyal to your guy.
Me: Beau? He’s not my guy.
Juniper: Then whose guy is he?
My fingers hover over the keypad. I hate the idea of him being anyone else’s guy.
Juniper: You do realize that you’re in love, right?
Me: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?
Juniper: Sheesh. No need to yell.
Me: We’re fake together. You know the whole story.
Juniper: I know your whole story and it’s that you’re afraid that when something good finally comes your way, it’s too good to be true, so you run away from it.
Me: I’m sitting down, actually.
Juniper: I can see that. Wave!
Like the puck moving up and down the ice, what she said slides back and forth in my mind.
Juniper: Are you quiet because you’re thinking about how you’ve been acting like a headcase or is there a delay and I missed an important play?
Me: There was a penalty I think.
Juniper: Consider taking yourself out of the penalty box.
If we were face to face, I’d ask what she means, but deep down I know. All the insults and undermining from my mother,sister, and family made me shrink while at the same time pushing me to prove myself, fit their molds, and appeal to their ridiculous demands. I’ve lost people I thought cared about me. I didn’t want to drive them away too.
Me: You’re right.
Juniper: You’re welcome. I accept tips, preferably twenty percent or twenty-five if you’re feeling generous.
As the Royals make a rush toward the defensive zone, like a predator staring down his prey and the goal his snare, Beau dares the left wing to take the shot. He does and our goalie blocks it. The crowd goes wild and “Hammer Time” blasts over the PA system.
I cup my hands around my mouth and shout his name, my fiancé’s name, and I realize something. I thought that maybe I’d been running from the bullies in my life—hi, Mom! Celeste!—when in reality, I’d trapped myself in doubt and fear.
I certainly don’t have it all worked out yet and Juniper was only partly right, but the ground under me feels a lot firmer than it did even minutes ago. I no longer feel like I’m treading water, trying to keep afloat. For once, my instinct isn’t to run away either.
