Page 91 of Told You So
She clicks the door shut, and I climb back into my car.
The instant my phone rings, my heart races and I pull it from my pocket. When I see that it’s Mac, not Bethany, my heart sinks instead. “Hello?”
“Hey, can I move your maintenance appointment from next Monday to Wednesday afternoon? We have a big—”
“Yeah, sure. That’s fine.” I glance back at Bethany’s house.
“Okay...Why do you sound weird? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I tell her and turn the ignition. She and Sam have already said their fair share about my relationship with Bethany, I don’t want to hear any more. Especially an “I told you so.”
“Well, you’re clearly full of shit. Come on, tell me—”
“You’ve already done enough, thanks though.”
“Excuse me? What the hell isyourproblem?” She’s quiet a minute, and I’m not sure what to say, or if I want to say anything. “Is it Bethany?” Mac asks.
I lean my head back against the headrest. “Yeah.” The hesitation in Mac’s voice stirs up a bit more anger than I expect. “I hope you guys had fun with your jabs the other day at the beach. She would barely talk to me after we left.”
“What?” she says breathily. She’s surprised and somehow, I feel a little vindicated. “I’m so sorry. Is that what this is about?”
“No, but it doesn’t help, Mac.”
“Then...what is it? What’s going on?”
I run my hands over my face and laugh at myself. “I think I just fucked it up.”
Forty-Nine
Bethany
Stepping out from one of the tanning rooms, I put the spray bottle behind the desk and check the schedule for the next clients. It’s been a busy day, one wave of people after another, but I guess busy is good. For the business and for me. It saves me from dwelling on my otherwise looping thoughts about Nick, about Jesse’s morning meltdown, and playbacks of my mom’s message after I left this morning.
She sounded more distant than usual this morning, different than her rigid, frantic self while Jesse was upset. I’m not sure what’s happened since then, but she wants me to come home after work to talk. Nick wants to talk too. I know I need to talk to them both—Iwantto talk to Nick, so badly it’s all I can think about. I regret getting angry this morning, but I’m not sure I should. Part of me feels justified, knowing he’d be unhappy if the tables were turned and I were having late night phone calls with an ex-boyfriend.
Another part of me keeps saying that this is Nick we’re talking about, and he would never purposely hurt me. Then, darker shadows of the past remind me that the hurt sustained between us over the years started out as unintentional, too. They were misunderstandings that spiraled. What’s to stop any of that from happening again?
Feeling a bit toasty in the warm spring air, I pull my hair up into a ponytail in preparation for the next round of clients. Unbidden, my gaze shifts outside to Schmitty’s deli. I want more than anything for things between Nick and I to work, but until he decides to tell Savannah about us, I’m not sure I can begin to accept their friendship.
“Thank you,” one of our regulars says as she hurries out from one of the rooms. She tosses her towel on top of the overflowing pile. “I have to pick the kid up from school.” She says it like she’s going to be late, then she waves. “See you next week.”
“See ya next time, Brit.”
Laundry, a quick rub down of the rooms, cashing out, reminder calls to a select few clients for tomorrow...I have plenty to do before we close up shop in a few hours, and I really hope Trent is doing a decent job with the inventory in the back so that I don’t have to manage that later too.
I wipe down the counter around the register and try not to think too much about Jesse’s morning spiral. It happens sometimes if he didn’t sleep well or maybe he had bad dreams. And then my mom didn’t have any of his favorite shirts washed for him to wear. I just try not to assume any of it’s because I’m not staying at home right now. Jesse knew I’d be picking him up—he knew he’d see me, and our morning routine would be mostly the same. I try to tell myself that, just because I don’t live there anymore doesn’t mean his breakdowns will be a regular occurrence. I hope.
I try to think about the barn project, instead. I’m happy with how it’s turning out, and it’s projects like these, albeit generally on a smaller scale, that remind me that as much as I don’t want to be an interior designer, I do enjoy it sometimes too. I smile as I realize how close we are to the end of the year and after graduation, I’ll never have to see Professor Murray again.
The doorbell dings, and when I look up, I’m astonished. Savannah’s standing in the doorway. Her red hair hangs down in waves around her shoulders, and she stares at me, her eyes not leaving mine as she steps closer.
“Uh, hi,” she says awkwardly.
I straighten and step closer to the counter, grabbing hold of it to steady myself. I doubt she’s here to schedule her first tanning appointment. I have no idea what’s transpired between her and Nick in the past five hours. All I can do is wonder if she’s here to tell me she wants Nick back.
Whatever the reason, the fact that she’s here at all makes my stomach roll. “Hi...” I finally manage. It’s an uncertain sound. I’m not even sure it comes out as a word.
“So, this is weird, so I’ll get right to it,” she says, splaying her palms on the counter. “Nick told me that you guys are together.” She pauses and her eyes don’t leave mine, like she’s still processing the news. “I was surprised,reallysurprised, actually, but Nick made it very clear that he wants things to work with you, so I needed to know, whatever that meant for our friendship.”
