Page 38 of Rules Of Engagement: St. Louis
“It is. However, I’m inclined to believe the company is even better.” He smiled again, then headed for the door. “You ladies have a wonderful afternoon.”
As soon as he was gone, Journey buried her face in her hands. “I cannot believe you just did that.”
“Did what? Had a normal human interaction with an attractive man?” Frankie was practically glowing with satisfaction. “He was fine, he was nice, and he definitely wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. I call that a successful scouting mission.”
“You’re impossible,” I said, smiling. Frankie’s boldness had always amazed me. She approached life with the same fearlessness she brought to everything else, whether it was raising her son as a single mother or flirting with strange men in public.
“I’m practical,” Frankie corrected. “Good men don’t just fall out of the sky. Sometimes you have to let them know you’re interested.”
“By yelling ‘hello nurse’ like you’re in a cartoon?”
“It worked, didn’t it? He came over here, introduced himself, and now I know where he works. That’s more progress than Journey has made in her entire dating life.”
Journey looked up from her hands. “I make progress. I had a perfectly nice conversation with the substitute teacher last week.”
“About lesson plans,” Frankie said flatly.
“Lesson plans are important!”
“So is getting your back blown out every once in a while.”
“Frankie!” Journey’s voice went up an octave, but she was laughing now.
I watched my friends banter back and forth, laughing at their teasing.
“So what about you, Miss Mysterious?” Frankie turned her attention to me, her expression shifting into a curious mask. “Catch us up to date about what’s going on with you. And don’t bullshit us because we’ll see straight through it.”
I considered bullshitting anyway, but the truth was, I was tired of carrying everything alone. I wasn’t encouraged enough to spill my entire situation with Christian, but maybe enough to share some of the weight. Still, I redirected.
“I saw Gerald this morning.”
The temperature at our table seemed to drop ten degrees. Journey’s expression hardened, while Frankie’s entire body went rigid.
“What did that piece of shit want?” Frankie said, annoyed.
“Money. What else?” I pushed my salad around my plate, suddenly not hungry. “He claims he needs medication that his insurance won’t cover.”
“And you told him to kiss your ass and find another solution,” Journey said hopefully.
“I gave him three thousand dollars.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Even Trisha seemed to sense the shift in mood as she refilled our coffee without her usual cheerful banter.
“Naomi,” Journey said, “why?”
“Because, even after everything he put me through, I don’t want him to die. And because he knew what to say to make me feel guilty for protecting myself.”
Frankie’s hands were clenched into fists on the table. “That manipulative son of a bitch. I swear, if I ever see him again?—”
“It’s done,” I interrupted. “I made it clear this was the last time. If he comes around again, I’ll file harassment charges.”
“You should have filed them after the first time he called,” Frankie muttered.
She wasn’t wrong, but hindsight was always clearer than the moment when you’re faced with someone’s supposed crisis.
“The important thing is that you set a boundary,” Journey said, always looking for the positive angle. “Three thousand dollars is a small price to pay for a peace of mind if it means he leaves you alone permanently.”
“Exactly.” I appreciated Journey’s attempt to reframe the situation, even if I didn’t entirely believe it myself. “Enough about my drama. We’re supposed to be celebrating your new job.”
