Ben shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I said quickly, pushing the check aside. “I mean, it’s a morning show, just the usual morning show stuff. I was lucky to get the job.”
Paige stood up and grabbed her purse. “I’ve got to get going. Lots of errands to run today. Deb, let’s walk out together.”
Thankful, I slid out of the booth. “Brunch was great. It was nice getting to know you guys a little better.”
Paige and I left, slowing down in the parking lot.
“Thanks for that,” I said. “I didn’t want to explain Miss Lonely Heart to those two.”
“I know.” She touched my hand. “Thanks for coming.”
I wanted to explain but I wasn’t sure how. “It’s just . . . it was like this in Texas for me. You know, becoming friends with a group of people at church. And it didn’t turn out well. I’m not looking for that again.”
Paige nodded, her face solemn. “You don’t have to come to my church to be my friend, Deb. I hope I wasn’t pushing too hard. I’m glad you came today, but the next time you want to visit, it’s completely your choice. No prodding from me. And even if you’re leery of making church friends, I promise that Milo and Ben are the most regular, down-to-earth guys you’ll ever meet. Neither of them requires church membership for friendship.” The corners of her mouth tilted up slightly.
I cocked my head to the side. “Do you like Milo or something?”
She flushed. “What? No! Of course not.”
“You do.” I tapped my temple. “It’s all making sense.”
“I don’t! I mean, I like him as much as I like anyone in the world.”
I laughed out loud. “Anyone in the world, huh?”
She glared at me. “You know what I mean. He’s my friend.”
“It’s fine, Paige. It’s not like I’m going to tell anyone.”
Her shoulders slumped. “He doesn’t like me in that way.”
My heart squeezed painfully at her tone. I knew that feeling times one thousand. “Paige,” I said in a quiet voice, though nothing else came to me. I decided to redirect. “Hey, you didn’t tell me Ben was the worship leader too!”
She shrugged. “Didn’t I? I guess not.” Her gaze fell back down to her phone. “I’ve got to run. Lunch next week? Our usual spot?”
I nodded my agreement. Ever since we’d met two months before, Paige and I’d started meeting for lunch at Checkered, a diner midway between both our places of employment, in my case, the KGBL radio studio and, in Paige’s case, a small clothing boutique off 18th Street in Denver.
After a quick trip to the grocery store, I headed back to my outrageously priced one-bedroom apartment. I walked inside and set the grocery bags on the counter, thinking, not for the first time, that I could own a plantation in Texas for what I paid to live near downtown Denver.
Meh. What does square footage matter when it comes to peace of mind?
Cozy is good.
I kept thinking about Milo and Ben and the Miss Lonely Heart thing. It was the one segment of the morning show that gave me more anxiety than it should. Near the end of my shift, we took live calls, where people dished on relationship problems. More often than not, women or men called in to either cry over or complain about the person who broke their heart. Something I could, unfortunately, empathize with. The first time we’d taken call-ins, it had just been a random idea for the morning show. But in answering calls, my story—or pseudo-story—came out, bit by bit, garnering the sympathy of the audience, along with a lot of shared bitterness.
Apparently, the segment was a hit. So we kept it up, which in all honesty, I didn’t mind at first. Misery loves company and all that—but week after week, well, it got old. Bashing exes and whining about cheaters gets a little tedious after a while.
I’d been lucky to get the job of course. I had desperately needed a new radio gig anywhere outside Houston, and KGBL had needed someone immediately. They liked the slight Southern accent, which was forced, since I was born in Minnesota, not Texas.
They liked the broken heart.
At least it was good for something.
I’d just pulled up Netflix when my phone rang.
Addison Powell.
I didn’t want to answer. But something came over me right before I knew the call was bound to go to voicemail, and I clicked the green phone button.
“Addi?”
“Debra, I’m glad you answered this time!”
I didn’t respond to that uncomfortable remark.
“How are you? I miss you. How’s the weather in Denver right now? It’s miserable hot today. I forgot to wear deodorant to work Friday—I know, how could I?—and the air condition at the school seems to be set on the highest setting possible. I mean, I know they want to keep costs down, but it’s Texas, people. We need cold air. Remind me not to sign up for summer school next year.”
Addison paused and I smiled. I’d missed her chatter.
My turn. “I’m fine.”
She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, so I felt as if I had to continue. “I like the new job a lot. The mountains out here are gorgeous. There’s no humidity, Addison.”
She laughed. “I can’t even imagine that.”
I laughed too. As my laughter faded, I cleared my throat and asked the question I had to ask. “So how is everybody?” Except Luke and Sara.
“Good! Lily is a little more than seven months along now, I think. Don’t tell her I said this, but she’s got the cutest waddle now that she’s showing more. She’s been craving asparagus all the time. It’s crazy. I’d never seen her eat an asparagus before. Sam’s business is going well. They contracted with some company downtown to do all their outdoor lawn design and maintenance, so he’s staying busy and just hired another guy to help. They’re happy and so excited about the baby coming. Glen and I are fine. It’s been a wonderful summer. Glen—well—”
“Go on,” I prompted.
“Our head pastor has cancer and is stepping down. Glen applied for the position.”
“Wow, Addi. That’s big. I’m sorry to hear about Pastor Deleon, though. Do you think Glen will get it?”
She was quiet for a second. “I don’t know. Maybe. He loves being the youth pastor, but this would be a dream come true for him. He’s always hoped to one day be the head pastor of a church. We thought that would probably take us to a smaller, start-up church somewhere, but this opportunity opened, and he’s going for it. We’ll see.”
“How’s Jason?”
“He’s Jason,” she said, and I could feel her smile across the miles. “He got a job as a line cook at a steakhouse downtown, right in the heart of the city. He’s loving it. We don’t see him that much since his evenings are tied up.”
“Dating anybody?”
“I don’t think so. He’s serious about this cooking stuff, still taking a couple of courses on weekends and then working all the time.”
And then quiet. Because I wanted to hear nothing about the last two people in the group I’d been part of.
Just seven friends who went to the same church and somehow became a family. Until we weren’t. Luke and I had started dating—a dream come true for me—and I’d been a goner for him from day one. Even now, miles away, starting over, it hurt to think of how beautiful he was to me. How happy I’d been for a while.
After eight months of a picture-perfect relationship, everything had unraveled so fast that it made my head spin, ending with him breaking up with me on Christmas Eve.
Yes.
Worst. Holiday. Ever.
The ring I’d been hoping for never came. The future I’d planned in my head vanished. The circle of friends ... well, I left that circle.
I’d learned fast that moving on takes more than a change of address, and I missed Addi and Lily and Sam and Jason like crazy.
Addison started talking again, updating me on her home renovations and Lily and Sam’s inability to agree on a baby name for thei
r first child. When she asked if I’d been to the theater district in Denver yet, I clicked the phone on speaker and started pulling out ingredients for tacos for dinner.
“I’ve been there. It’s not that far from the radio station actually. But I haven’t seen any plays or ballets or musicals yet. You know me. I will eventually. I signed up for news alerts so I know what’s coming.” I’d been obsessed with musicals since childhood. Addi’s question sparked a mental note to ask Paige if she liked the theater. A friend to go with would be nice.
“You’re planning on staying out there, huh?”
I stopped chopping the tomato on my cutting board and wiped my hands. I picked the phone back up. “Of course I’m staying, Addi. I just got here.”
“I know. I just—I’m a little worried about you and I wish you were closer.”
Her soft voice reached my heart. “I’m doing better. Honest.”
“You’re so far from friends and family.”
I hopped up on the counter and crossed my feet. “I didn’t know anybody when I left Minnesota for Texas, Addison. Remember? I went to Houston for a job and I met people. I’ll do the same thing here. It’ll be fine.”
“The goal is to stay and settle there, then? Do you think you’ll try to buy a house eventually?”
“I doubt I could ever afford a house out here. Housing is outrageous. Especially in the city. Maybe I’ll find a townhome eventually.” I tucked that thought away to think over later. “I’m in this apartment for a year at least. As for staying and settling—” How could I explain that, at the moment, working and functioning took all my energy? I didn’t need long-term goals. Addison, who’d never lived outside Texas, couldn’t possibly understand my feelings. She’d met Glen, the love of her life, and in short order they’d dated, gotten engaged, and had a beautiful wedding, and were now living in married bliss. She’d never picked up and moved on a whim. I knew she couldn’t even imagine starting over, alone, in a different state, without knowing one person there.
But I’d done it before. I would do it again.
“I need a fresh start, Addison.”
“You’ve started, then?” she asked, with that uncanny—downright annoying—intuition of hers. I knew she was asking whether I’d truly begun the business of moving on.
“I’m working on it,” I answered. After a few moments of awkward silence, I hopped off the counter. “I’ve changed, Addison,” I admitted in a quiet voice. Because if I couldn’t tell her, who could I tell?
“That’s allowed,” she said gently. “We all change, Deb.”
I’d been holding my breath unknowingly. At those words, I exhaled.
“Change can be good,” Addi continued. “As long as you’re being true to who you are.”
“I have no idea if I’m being true to myself, Addison,” I said with a snap in my voice. “Who am I supposed to be?” We were both quiet for a moment and I regretted the snap. I tried to think of a way to smooth things over, but no words came.
“I know life took a drastic turn for you,” Addison finally said. “And when that happens, we tend to reevaluate everything.”
Yes, I supposed that was true.
“But, Debra”—her voice dipped low—“you’re still you.”
I closed my eyes and, with my free hand, rubbed my left temple. “I want to be someone else right now. This is a new beginning for me.” I attempted to sound positive there at the end. “That’s the good thing about moving somewhere. You can remake your identity. This time around, I’m going for more ‘mysterious,’ less ‘open book.’”
“Are you now?” I could almost see the smile I heard in Addi’s tone.
“Just wait and see.” I narrowed my gaze. “New town. New place. New job. New me.”
“Will that make you happy?”
“Close enough.”
She sighed and I did too. I cared less about being happy and more about never being blindsided again. Let the new life commence.
Chapter Three
The difference between a lady and a flower girl is not how she behaves,
but how she is treated.
My Fair Lady
I tucked a runaway curl behind my left ear and glanced at the digital clock on the wall and then at Mark, the producer, who was behind the glass, nodding at me. Then I slid the thick headphones over my ears.
And we’re on.
“So Andy was telling us that he doesn’t believe in love at first sight.”
My cohost, Andy Bartlett, leaned into his mic. “Oh come on, you can’t tell me you believe in that stuff, Deb.”
“You’re right. Love is hypothetical at this point.”
He laughed. “That’s my girl. I mean, I could believe in love at first sight. I haven’t met J.Lo in person yet. But does ‘love at first sight’ have to work both ways? What if I fall for J.Lo but Cupid’s arrow doesn’t hit her?”
Then your life is over and you pine for her forever and you need therapy.
“Well, I think Lana would have a problem with all of that.” He grinned at the mention of his wife, who, thankfully, was a great sport at being mentioned constantly on air.
“What does Miss Lonely Heart recommend, though? That is the question.” Andy winked. Yeah, yeah. Good segue. I could see the lines blinking. Calls pouring in.
“Rather than waste my sage advice on your imaginary love affair with Jennifer Lopez, let’s take a call and hear from someone with real problems.” I pushed line one. “Miss Lonely Heart speaking. How can I help?”
“Hi, I’m Ruthy. I can’t believe you answered. I tried to call yesterday and never made it through.”
Andy snapped his fingers. Get her talking.
“Tell us your story, Ruthy,” I said.
“I’m pretty sure my husband is cheating on me.”
My heart sank. “Oh, Ruthy. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“What makes you think he’s cheating?” Andy asked.
The woman on the phone sniffed. “Well, he’s been coming home late. And he’s suddenly secretive about his phone. I’ve noticed that he keeps it on him all the time. He won’t put it down, even at home. The other night his phone rang, late. I saw the name that came up. He says she’s a work colleague and they’re partners on a new project. But he seemed guilty. We’ve only been married two years! What can I do?”
Andy looked at me expectantly. Ugh.
“Well, if I were you, sweetheart, I’d confront him right away,” I told her. “See if he fesses up. If he does and he wants to work it out—only you can know if you’re willing to do that. I lean toward the ‘once a cheater, always a cheater’ line of thinking, but that’s just the Southern streak in me. If he doesn’t confess, and you’re still suspicious, see if you can do that thing where you link your phones so you can see where he is at all times. Doesn’t Lana do that to you, Andy?”
His head bobbed. “Oh, yeah. I can’t go to the bathroom without that woman knowing where I am. I stopped at The Old Turnkey after shift one afternoon, and she showed up within fifteen minutes. Standing by the door with her hand on her hip, saying, ‘Doing some day drinking are we, baby?’” He gave me a thumbs-up.
“Do you have access to his email?” I asked. “His password might be something simple like his birthday. And start showing up at his workplace unannounced. Bring bagels so it doesn’t seem weird.”
Andy leaned away from the mic and covered his mouth as he laughed.
“Find out the truth. You deserve the truth, Ruthy.”
“Right.” Her voice steadied. “I deserve that and more.”
“That’s what I’m saying.” I wished her luck, and Mark held up two fingers. Fine. Two more call-ins and that was it.
A few hours later, I yawned as I walked through the parking garage. Every day felt the same. Broken hearts. Tabloid gossip. Commercials for everything from vitamins to laser hair removal. The same songs over and over. Even the laughter had grown stilted for me. Still, it’s what I did. I enjoyed being on the radio, and the
job was ideal. Andy was funny and not overly demanding for someone who had a lot more name recognition than I had. The last morning show cohost had left unexpectedly to go to a competitor, and I knew it angered him. Not just him—the whole crew. Maybe that was why they were so open toward me, so eager to help me succeed, to replace the radio host who had been disloyal. I knew that a radio crew could grow close like a family. Fortunately for me, they’d needed another member and had welcomed me with open arms.
I climbed in my car and drove the short distance to Checkered, my stomach growling in anticipation for lunch. Within twenty minutes, Paige and I were tucked away in a back corner. I moved slightly to the left in my seat to avoid the torn vinyl on my side of the booth. Even though the decor at Checkered could use some help, the establishment had the recipes for mouth-watering burgers and onion rings and fries down pat. The cheeseburger with jalapeños kept me coming back for more, despite the fact that a person could gain five pounds just from breathing in the smell of bacon frying in the kitchen.
A memory flashed in my head. Me and Luke and our gang, having a cook-out at Addison’s house. Everyone smiling and happy. Sara was there, of course.
“Are you listening, Deb?”
I blinked. “Sorry. My mind is all over the place today. What were you saying?” I forced myself to focus on Paige.
She dipped a fried chicken tender in a side of ranch. “I said, wasn’t Friday night so fun? I need to ask Ben when Twenty-Four Tears is playing again. Actually, Ben and Milo and some others are getting together for dinner tonight—just pasta at my friends Ashley and Kevin’s house. Want to come?”
“Thanks for the invite, but I’ve got a busy night ahead of me.”
Paige glowered. “Netflix and pizza is not a busy night.”
“Netflix just got a couple of old musicals, and I’m a total sucker for musicals. Not even kidding a little bit. So I have a date with Fred Astaire. By the way, do you like live theater?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
I swallowed a swig of water in my glass and popped a French fry in my mouth. “I’m tired. I was on the air at five thirty this morning. A night with Netflix sounds good to me.”
After the Rain Page 3