Page 32 of The Affair
I nodded, disliking this tension that had suddenly crept up between us.
“Hey, do you mind if I head out a little early today?” he asked, making me almost sigh with relief.
“No,” I answered, not even waiting for an explanation—anything to get him me away from here.
“Oh, okay. Great. I just wanted a little time to run home and get a few things done before I head back over here tonight. We’re still on for our work dinner?”
Work dinner.
Right …
“Yep,” I answered. “Looking forward to it!”
He just chuckled to himself as he walked away, and I heard him mumble the words, “World’s worst liar.”
If only that were true. I wish I weren’t looking forward to more time with him.
Because the honest truth was, I liked Sawyer.
I liked him all too much.
* * *
There was alwayssomething strange about being at the store after hours.
It wasn’t that I felt like I was doing something I shouldn’t or that it was even spooky, but walking down the aisles after the sun set was always a little odd.
I remembered the same feeling back in high school during homecoming. Reed and I had been walking hand in hand down the darkened hall of Pine Hurst High. He was intent on finding a quiet spot to make out, away from our chaperones, while I just wanted to stash my high heels in my locker. I’d made the remark to Reed that it felt weird to be at school after hours, and he’d just shrugged it off, more concerned about getting me alone than talking at the time.
But the contrast was undeniable.
The way the light danced along the mahogany furniture, casting large shadows unlike anything you’d see during the day; the eerie quiet that fell on the street outside, normally bustling with people.
It was rather peaceful.
My mom used to come down here at night to work. After she’d tucked us into bed, she’d drive back into town and balance the books or change things around in the display window.
My dad used to call her the Energizer Bunny because she never stopped working.
I wondered if she kept that go, go, go lifestyle now that she was living with my brother. Was she driving him nuts with her round-the-clock planner? Did she have a set routine in place yet, or had she thrown that out the window with the rest of her life too?
I shook my head, deciding to focus on the task I’d given myself while I waited for Sawyer to arrive. Having taken him up on his advice to transcribe my nana’s journals, I’d brought one with me today in hopes of having some downtime to start the process.
Of course, no such time existed when you were a small business owner.
So, I was cracking open the first page only just now.
But I was starting nonetheless, and the process of it felt good. I’d been offering for years to do something with the things in my parents’ guest room, but my mother had refused. At least now, I could finally make sense of some of it and preserve it for future generations at the same time.
Looking at the first page, I let out a sigh. This was a daunting task I was about to take on. Although my nana hadn’t recorded much beyond the weather and her crossword puzzle activity, she’d kept a journal for the majority of her later years, and over time, it had added up.
“Okay, Nana,” I said, opening up a blank Word document, “let’s do this thing.”
“Are you talking to yourself?”
I nearly jumped at the sound of his voice, but I managed to recover just in time to see him step into my office.
“What? No,” I said. “Just mumbling.”
