What Matters Most

by Beers, Georgia

  I don’t want to feel like this.

  That was the big thing. The logical part of Kelsey’s brain continually reminded her that she didn’t know Theresa all that well. As was her usual path, she wanted to argue, point out that they were slowly getting to know each other, that she knew Theresa better now than she had last week and that was progress. But it was the fact that she felt so tied to her already, so drawn, so connected. She could understand becoming enamored of somebody in fairly short order, but...to have her feelings be so enmeshed in Theresa’s behaviors—good or bad—was kind of disconcerting for Kelsey. She was an independent woman. She didn’t need anybody. So the fact that so much of her overall mood seemed tied to Theresa wasn’t sitting well with her.

  Her reflection in the mirror as she washed her hands showed her shaking her head slightly, a bit of a grimace tugging at one corner of her mouth. This has to stop. She picked up a towel, dried her hands, and shook herself free of the melancholy mood that had overtaken her. Enough. Theresa knows where I am. She knows how to find me. With one determined nod, she pulled the door open and headed back to the table.

  “All set?” Chris asked as she stood.

  Kelsey pulled her wallet from her purse. “Gotta pay first.”

  “Taken care of.” Chris waved her away.

  Kelsey blinked at her. “What?”

  “You’re letting me stay with you. You’re spending all kinds of time with me. The least I can do is buy you dinner.”

  Kelsey tilted her head to the side and smiled. “Thank you, favorite cousin of mine.” She kissed Chris on the cheek.

  “You’re welcome.”

  They gathered their belongings and headed out the door. Once outside in the lovely warm night air, Hannah waved goodbye to Kelsey and headed to her own car, which seemed weird until Chris leaned close to Kelsey and said, “Listen, would you mind terribly if I spent a little time with Hannah? She said she’d bring me home later.”

  “Oh, of course,” Kelsey said, hoping she didn’t sound overly enthusiastic. Why would this bum her out? Chris and Hannah had hit it off and that was good for both of them. Kelsey knew them both well and wasn’t at all surprised they liked each other.

  Was she jealous?

  Not liking that possibility at all, she forced even more cheer into her demeanor. “Absolutely! Go. Have fun.” She smiled, hoped it seemed genuine to Chris, who knew her well enough to be able to see when she was faking something.

  “Great. You’re the best.” Chris squeezed Kelsey’s shoulder, then waggled her eyebrows as she added, “Don’t wait up.”

  And she was off, darting across the parking lot to Hannah’s car.

  Kelsey waved as they pulled away, then sighed a bittersweet sigh as though the last of her children had just moved out of the house. She was happy for Chris. She was sad for herself.

  Once home, she got a pint of Chunky Monkey ice cream out of the freezer, flopped down on her couch, and flicked on the TV. After several minutes of channel surfing, she settled on House Hunters so she could watch people who were much more ridiculous than she was.

  Some time later, she opened her eyes and blinked in confusion at the man on her screen showing her some strange silicone tray with holes it it that, apparently, made flipping pancakes much easier. “Is using a spatula that hard?” she whispered, puzzled.

  The clock told her it was nearly two in the morning.

  She dragged herself up and trudged off to her bed, no sign of Chris and no text from Theresa. Kelsey was happy to close her eyes and shut the world out again.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THE CHAMPIONSHIP GAME HAD come down to the wire and three extra innings before Hannah’s team scored a run and the win. It had drawn a big crowd and the majority of both teams and all spectators headed to Point Blank to celebrate. As usual, the bar smelled of stale beer, warm popcorn from the machine in the corner, and infield dirt that was spread all over team shirts, sneakers, and the plank wood floor.

  “Next stop, world domination!” Hannah shouted at the bar, holding up her beer to the cheers of everybody around her. She’d played one the best games Kelsey had ever seen her play and guessed that was due, in no small part, to the fact that she was trying to show off a little bit for Chris, who’d decided to stay until Wednesday after all—which came as no surprise when she’d arrived back at Kelsey’s apartment long after Kelsey had fallen asleep the night before.

  This morning hadn’t started off well. Kelsey opened her eyes and immediately checked her phone to find...nothing. No text from Theresa. No missed calls. Nothing at all. She’d immediately typed one herself and sent it.

  Everything okay? Haven’t heard from you since yesterday. I’m a little worried.

  That went unanswered. Kelsey had sent two more texts throughout the day, but in addition to her worry, a bit of doubt and a sliver of anger began to seep in to keep that worry company. “Is it so hard to send a quick text?” Kelsey had said to her empty office as she stared at her phone in mid-afternoon. “What would it take? Ten seconds? Say you’re fine, just busy? Is that so hard?”

  No response came. None. Kelsey headed to the game at six fifteen and at that point, had heard nothing. She felt annoyed, hurt, and more than a little bit ticked off.

  “Well, that’s an interesting development.” Ree said now, her voice close to Kelsey’s ear, and Kelsey found herself relieved to finally be in the presence of somebody who wasn’t affecting her emotions in any way at all. She followed Ree’s gaze to where Hannah stood next to Chris, talking to a couple other players. Suddenly, they all laughed and Hannah tossed her arm over Chris’s shoulders.

  “It is. I’m trying to keep a close eye on things.”

  “Why?” Ree’s question sounded innocent enough, devoid of accusation. “Do you not trust one of them?”

  Kelsey shrugged and sipped from the beer bottle in her hand. “I’m just protective of my cousin. I always have been. She’s the same way with me.”

  “You know Hannah pretty well. I’m sure they’re fine. They seem to really like each other.”

  Kelsey gave a nod, but said nothing, just watched the pair.

  “Is there something else going on, Kels?”

  Goddamn it, Ree was so freaking observant. Kelsey turned flashing eyes on her. “How is it that you know me so well and we hardly spend any time together?”

  Ree chuckled, tipped her beer bottle in Kelsey’s direction. “You, my dear, are not hard to read. Not by any stretch of the imagination.”

  Kelsey groaned and hung her head. This was not news. With a great, put-upon sigh, she lifted her head again, looked at Ree, and spilled. “I’m kind of annoyed at Theresa, who seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth, and I’m jealous of Chris and Hannah, probably because I’m kind of annoyed at Theresa.”

  Ree raised her eyebrows, seemingly impressed, and gave her head a tilt. “I see. Well, at least you know exactly what’s going on in your own head.”

  Kelsey snorted. “Took me a while to get there.” She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine. Really. I don’t know if anything will happen with Chris and Hannah, but they’re having fun and enjoying each other’s company, and that makes me happy.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Ree touched her bottle to Kelsey’s. “And you deserve your own happiness as well, my friend. Just keep that in mind, okay?”

  “I know.” And she did. She hadn’t really worried about it much until Theresa came along. With her gorgeous eyes and her quick wit and her rockin’ body. And now Kelsey couldn’t get her out of her head. Even now, after she’d vowed to just back off, to leave it alone. It was possible Theresa had lost interest, didn’t want to see Kelsey anymore. While it would be nice to know, they’d only spent a handful of times together. They were not exclusive. Just because they’d had sex (amazing, mind-blowing, off-the-charts-hot sex) didn’t mean they were now beholden to each other. Kelsey had to accept that this might just be Theresa’s way of bowing out (as she forced herself not to dwel
l on Theresa’s whole “this feels different” speech). She hated it, but had to admit that it was a possibility.

  Time to shake it off, she thought, and the Taylor Swift song immediately flooded her brain, making her groan softly. Terrific.

  ***

  Kelsey could not put into words the depth of her hatred for Chicago’s O’Hare airport. It was crowded, hard to navigate, and something was almost always delayed.

  “Next time, fly into Midway. It’s still crazy busy, but much easier to deal with.” She turned to follow the signs for departing flights.

  “I know. I made the reservations really fast and wasn’t thinking,” Chris told her.

  “When will you be back?” Kelsey was surprised to feel herself getting a little emotional, which was kind of new in this situation. There was something in her, though, that didn’t want Chris to leave. Chris felt like home to Kelsey, and right now, given everything she’d been dealing with, she was missing home in a big way.

  Chris turned and gave her a tender smile. “Hopefully very soon. I should hear about the job sometime next week. If things go my way, it starts in a month, so...”

  “You’d have a ton of things to get done.” Kelsey stopped behind a taxi and waited.

  “Exactly.”

  “I’m trying not to get excited about the idea of you living close to me again.”

  “Me, too.”

  “And what about Hannah?” Kelsey had been wanting to ask all morning, but felt a little weird prying, given how testy she’d been initially.

  “What about her?”

  “How did you guys leave it?”

  Chris pursed her lips, took a moment before speaking. “We’re playing it by ear. I mean, we like each other a lot and we’re pretty...compatible.”

  Kelsey grinned as she saw Chris’s face flush pink. “Yeah, not another word about me sleeping with Theresa on our first date,” she scolded playfully.

  “We just talked!” Chris said, eyes wide in shock. “I swear. There may have been some making out, but that’s all.” Kelsey wasn’t sure she believed her and Chris knew it. “I swear. Anyway, we want to take some time to get to know each other, so...a little bit of long distance will be good, I think.”

  “I’ve been trying to picture you guys as a couple,” Kelsey said honestly. “I wasn’t sure at first, but seeing you together last night at the bar...you both looked really happy.” She reached over and squeezed Chris’s knee.

  “I like her, that’s for sure. I can tell you, though, that I have no desire to date somebody who still lives with her parents. Call me superficial.”

  Kelsey grinned. “I know. She’s working on that.”

  “She is. We talked about it.”

  “You did?” Kelsey wasn’t sure why she was surprised.

  “There was no way I was going to do anything more than making out with her parents in the house.” Chris said it as though Kelsey’s question was the most ridiculous in all of mankind, which made Kelsey laugh. As they pulled up to the drop-off area, Chris became more serious. “Listen, K-Pete, I’m really sorry I didn’t get to meet Theresa.”

  “Yeah, so am I.” Kelsey had told Chris the whole story, how not only had Theresa not come to dinner, but that Kelsey hadn’t heard from her since.

  “You should drive right over to her house, ask her flat out what’s going on.”

  Kelsey sighed sadly. “Yeah, I’m not going to do that.”

  “I know. I’m just venting for you.” Chris unclipped her seat belt and pushed herself out of the car. Kelsey popped the trunk and followed her.

  Behind the car, Chris shouldered her bag, then held out her arms and pulled Kelsey into a a warm, firm hug. Kelsey squeezed back, and for one tender moment, everything was okay in her world. No Theresa. No threat to her business. Just her cousin’s love.

  “Text me when you land,” Kelsey said softly.

  “I will. Call me if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk.”

  “I will.”

  Kelsey stepped back and Chris squeezed her shoulders. “You’re worth more than a silent blow-off, Kelsey. Remember that.” She gave her a lopsided smile, then turned and headed into the airport.

  “Bye,” Kelsey said softly, and watched until an annoyed beep sounded behind her. She jumped, startled, and waved at the person behind the wheel waiting for her spot. “Sorry.”

  Jeanine had opened Common Scents that morning, so things were running smoothly and a customer or two were meandering around the shop when Kelsey arrived.

  “Chris get off okay?” Jeanine asked, using an X-ACTO knife to slice open a box.

  “She did. Everything okay here?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Jeanine handed over a stack of envelopes. “UPS and the mailman were already here.”

  Kelsey took the stack with her to the office, dropped it on the desk, and got herself situated for the day. She stuck a pod in the tiny Keurig her mother had given her as an “office-warming” gift, booted up her computer, and glanced at the security monitors. The same two women were perusing shelves. The front door pinged, letting her and Jeanine know that another person had entered the store.

  When her coffee was done, she tossed in two packets of sweetener and a bunch of powdered creamer. She preferred actual milk or cream, but hadn’t yet purchased herself a tiny dorm-sized fridge for her office. She meant to, she just hadn’t gotten to it yet. And now I may not need to. Coffee sufficiently sweetened, creamed, and tasting as little like coffee as she could manage, Kelsey flopped into her chair and got to work.

  The next time she happened to look at the time, it was almost five o’clock in the evening and Jeremy was walking through the front doors, as she could see on the monitor. It must not have been a terribly busy day if Kelsey hadn’t been alerted by the door buzzer very often. She gave a sigh as Jeremy came in, said hello, and dropped his stuff onto a chair. Then he went back out and relieved Jeanine. Kelsey watched them chat, then Jeanine left with a wave to the camera, which made Kelsey smile. With another sigh, she turned to the stack of mail on her desk.

  Most of her business correspondence tended to come via e-mail, but she had to admit that she enjoyed getting regular snail mail. There was something satisfying about tearing open an envelope, unfolding a sheet of paper. Maybe she was just old fashioned, but she enjoyed going through the mail. She put three invoices in a pile—one from Stephanie Bradley’s company, one electric bill, and one from a supplier of bath salts she’d given a shot to. Seven promotional ads from different vendors trying to get her business made up another stack. She’d take those home and look at them tonight.

  A rap on her doorframe sounded and pulled her focus from the mail. Jeremy stood there waiting for her to look up. “Jake from the dry cleaners next door is here to see you?” His phrasing the announcement as a question mirrored what Kelsey was thinking. What was he doing here? He never stopped by at random.

  “Oh. Okay. Sure, send him back.” Kelsey waited only a beat before Jake blew into the office like a windstorm.

  “Did you get the letter?” he asked, tossing a sheet of paper onto Kelsey’s desk. His voice was surprisingly calm and measured considering the urgency of his body language. Kelsey picked up the letter, which was from a Carter Mayfield Real Estate Development, its house-shaped logo under the name. She scanned the body, somehow surprised and unsurprised by what it said. Basically, Betsy Siegler had already sold the entire building, which the developer was going to level (the letter said “restructure,” but Kelsey wasn’t stupid and neither was Jake) and replace with condominiums. The letter was to inform the current tenants that they had, as detailed in their individual leases, sixty days to vacate the premises.

  “Two months?” Kelsey, again, was surprised and unsurprised at the same time.

  “Two months,” Jake confirmed, holding up two fingers and shaking his head in what seemed to be a combination of disgust and sadness. Then he folded his arms and leaned against the wall, his neatly pressed khakis and light blue oxfo
rd giving him the air of complete calm despite the subject matter. “My store has been here for almost forty years. I’ve already been researching because I had a feeling this was coming, but there’s nothing in this area that even comes close to the rent I’m paying now. Mrs. Jenkins both helped and hurt us.”

  “She did.” Kelsey blew out a long, slow breath as she handed the letter back to Jake. “I imagine everybody in the strip got this letter.” She pushed through the remainder of her mail and found the now-familiar blue logo on the corner of the bottom envelope.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Jake said. “My clientele is all here in Westland. I could relocate to another suburb, but there’s no guarantee I could build the business back up, you know? People don’t want to go out of their way to pick up their dry cleaning. They want it to be between work and home. Most of my customers live nearby.”

  Kelsey nodded as she spun the ring on her forefinger. She had no advice to offer. Jake was obviously looking for commiseration and she could certainly give him that, but beyond it? She had nothing. She had her own livelihood to worry about. Even though she’d known from the moment Betsy Siegler had set foot into Common Scents that losing her shop was a possible outcome, now that it was very nearly a reality, she wasn’t ready.

  They sat there in miserable silence, Kelsey and Jake, for a good three or four minutes before he pushed himself off the wall. “Well,” he said and then shrugged.

  “Yeah.”

  “This blows.”

  “It does.” Kelsey nodded.

  Their faces made twin expressions of, Well, what can we do? This is our lot in life right now. And it sucks. Then Jake took his leave. Kelsey watched the monitors as he made his way through the store and out the front door. Then she fell back in her chair and whispered, “Shit.”

  Time limit. She needed a time limit.

  Kelsey’s mother had taught her the time limit trick. When something was bothering her or upset her or made her seethe with anger, she said to give it a time limit. “Pick an amount of time,” she’d told college-age Kelsey when she’d gotten a C on an economics test she was sure she’d aced. “Say, half an hour. It can be anything you want, though. Whatever you think would work. Ten minutes. Three hours. A whole day. But stick to that limit.” Kelsey could still hear her mother’s voice over the phone, just as clear as if it was happening right now. “So today, you’re going to allow yourself to be angry about this test for half an hour. You can cry. You can scream. You can punch things. Whatever you need to do to embrace the emotion. And after that half hour is up, you’re done being angry. You put it away and get on with your life.”