Page 12 of Oh Boy!
Sally
Light music doesn’t facilitate relaxation as I lie in bed in hopes that sleep will win the battle. It doesn’t. I must’ve counted hundreds of sheep by now, but my frayed nerves interfere as I replay the day’s events. My throat is dry; I drink. My bladder is full; I go pee. My blood is boiling; I toss and turn.
I grumble, kick off the covers for the umpteenth time, and rush to the kitchenette. Numb and antsy, I shake my legs and scratch the back of my messy hair; I must look like an 80’s pop star.
I sooo need a drink…
A stronger drink! On autopilot, my hands grip the handle of the upper cabinet: nothing! I slam it shut. Then, I remember that the last time that Courtney was here, we raided my meager alcohol stash. Darn, I miss her! She flew back to Maine around the same time that Rupert left. A fleeting thought of her night with Nathan assaults my restless mind. I shiver at the unwelcome questions that ensue. All she texted was:Fun night, TTYS. I assume it translates to sex. I make a mental note to confirm. Meanwhile, I’m forced to settle for the next best thing. A large spoon in one hand, I use the other to yank the lid from the barely started pint of Fish Food and greedily dig in. Thank you, Ben. Thank you, Jerry. Should I thank Nathan as well for putting me in such a state long after we parted ways?
A moan escapes my mouth as another spoonful of ice-cream freezes my tongue and brain. A satisfied smile plastered on my groggy face, I purse my lips once the comfort food is swallowed. Yeah, the pinch in my chest brings me back to reality… Is this a pang of jealousy?
Nah, Nathan and I are friends.
But if we’re friends, why did I brush him off? The guardian angel on my right shoulder reminds me why I don’t do dinner with guys. Yup, it leads to confusion and promiscuous sex. Thanks, but no thanks. The persistent devil on the other shoulder mocks me because, you know, everybody’s got to eat, so why not dinner? Snatching my phone from the counter, I scroll through my contacts with my free hand. There.
“Hello?”
My hand flies to my mouth.Fuckity, fuck, fuck!Silent, I let out the breath that I didn’t realize I was holding and start pacing the small room. My own stupidity gets my knickers in a twist like Rupert would say; I had no intention oftalkingto Nathan, let alone waking him up. Well, it’s a little too late, right?
“I can hear you breathing, you know?” The gravel of Nathan’s sleepy voice makes it sexier than ever. My pulse drums so loudly that it resonates in my ears, making it hard to hear. “Sally, you still there?”
My name rolls off of his tongue. We’re beyond nicknames. My traitorous body sends me a friendly reminder that some of its neglected regions are not dead. How did I ever envision being friends with a guy like this? Player. Cocksure. Panty-melting hot. “I… I’m… Sorry, I just…” The words get stuck in my throat. My breath hitches before I manage to utter, “Never thought you’d pick up.”
“Disappointed?” He sounds more alert.
“Taken aback is more like it. I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’re fine. If you must know, I was jotting down ideas for a new book and fell asleep. I’m actually glad you called; means I’ll sleep in my bed for once! Hold on a sec, I’ll be right back.” When he speaks again, his voice is clearer, and I’m guessing that he drank something. “So, tell me.”
“Tell you?” Pressing my palm to my forehead, I stop in front of the couch. “Ohhh, right! I wanted to apologize for turning you down…” Once again, my words come out wrong. “I mean, friends can have dinner together. I don’t know why I… freaked out.” And because the weight of his gaze unsettled me earlier, I feel compelled to admit that it was part of the issue.
“Like I said, I’m sorry if I ever made you feel uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intent. I think I got carried away in the heat of the moment.” I blink at his admission, my fingers buried in my mane of hair. “That won’t happen again. Irespectyou as well as Rupert.” He stresses the verb; if he only knew that respect is the one thing that I long for, but never obtained apart from work, and with Rupert, obviously. “You’re right, friendship works. Now that we’re both sorry, where does that leave us?”
“Can we do lunch next weekend if you’re free? Since you ventured so far last time, it’s my turn to drive,” I joke, and it feels liberating. The tightness in my chest has vanished. “I’ve tried Bed Knobs & Brews in Bear Creek several times. We can meet there if you want. It’s close to the dojo.”
“I’d love that. Sunday works best for me. And”—he pauses, then clears his throat— “I was wondering if going on a hike after that would push friendship boundaries.” He sounds timid; it’s cute.
Sensitivity. Boundaries. Listening. Nathan admitted to his limited skills in that department, but was willing to increase his efforts. Yet additional evidence that he’s anything but shallow, like he reminded me when he came to see me at work. And just like that, I register that my open wounds disappeared during this exchange. Against all odds, Mr. Cocksure is beginning to gain my trust.
“Listen, we’ll see about that. I… Okay, let me rephrase: I’d very much like to hike with you someday. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m an introvert.” That earns me a heart-warming chuckle. “I’m not much of a people person and I don’t really know you, so…” I swallow, gathering the last bit of courage I can find to be completely honest. “I’ll bring my stuff, and we’ll figure it out from there. How’s that?”
“It’s perfect, my friend. Text me when you’re a few minutes out.”
Before going back to bed, I wander to the kitchen to dispose of the empty carton without an ounce of guilt. Flushed and beaming, I brush my teeth. My mind and heart are both at peace, which is a rare occurrence. As for my body, it’ll still have to wait a while; my ugly-duckling syndrome is deeply engrained, although I’m officially done self-shaming due to it. I owe that to Rupert’s TLC, and eventually, I’ll owe it to myself. Therapy was supposed to point me in the right direction. Become a swan, my ass! It backfired with unprecedented damage. No need to dwell on that now.
* * *
“Is this a bad time?”No greetings. Trust me, I waited as long as I could. I justhadto come clean. I considered calling Courtney, but she hasn’t answered my texts and it’s weird to talk to her aboutthis, considering her history with Nathan. I wonder what she’s up to; I miss her. I look into the rearview mirror, press the pedal to the metal, and switch lanes.
Rupert’s voice fills the car, and his accent enhances his already sweet statement. “There’ll never a bad time for you and me.” A comforting sigh resonates on his end of the line.
“How’s Nashville?” I take a quick glance at my face in the rearview mirror. It’s blotchy from my time outdoors today; so much for applying enough sunscreen.
“Fruitful.” A pause when I hear masculine voices in the background; must be his bandmates. Seconds later, it’s quiet again. “No one’s around now. Spill.” Rupert knows me better than I know myself, so he doesn’t beat around the bush. Calling him on a Sunday evening is out of the ordinary.
“You remember the brewery we went to before your Tennessee calling?” He grunts, annoyed that I’m stalling. My fingers twist my braid, and I take a deep breath before admitting, “I went there for lunch with Nathan today.”
“You did! That’s fantastic. Of course, you know that I’m still in touch with him…. Well, he did mention he had plans today. Didn’t say it was with you, though… Interesting.”
