Love Bites

by Rachel K. Burke

  “Why are you ladies hiding in here?” he asked, flashing me a lopsided smile.

  “Champagne refill,” I said. “You?”

  “Beer refill.” He reached into the fridge and removed a new beer, then tossed the empty bottle into the trash before wandering back into the living room.

  Reading Beth’s suspicious expression, I knew what she was going to say before she even opened her mouth.

  “What about him?” she asked, nodding in Andy’s direction. “He seems nice. And he’s definitely into you.”

  “He is,” I agreed, shaking my head sadly. “But he’s not it.”

  “How do you know?”

  I paused, considering.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I’ll know when I find it.”

  The next chapter in My Kick-Ass Life delved into the art of meditation itself. The previous chapters thus far had focused on identifying your goals and believing you would achieve them, but this chapter gave an actual step-by-step process of how to meditate, how to improve your technique, and what to expect in the long run. Basically, the idea was to set an intention for your practice (i.e. a question you needed answered, a decision you had to make, etc.) and then sit quietly and clear your mind of all thoughts, allowing your inner voice to guide you in the right direction. It sounded easy, but when I sat down and put it to work, it was much harder than I’d anticipated.

  I lit a red candle and kept my gaze fixated on it, trying to focus on my breath, as the book suggested. I asked myself whether or not I should accept Sphinx’s offer and move back to California, and sat still, waiting for an answer. Every logical part of my brain told me it was the right decision, but there was something deep inside me that just couldn’t pull the trigger. Was it fear of change? Was I scared to leave my friends and family behind? Or was my gut telling me that I belonged here? Because if that was the case, it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.

  After a few minutes, I figured out why it was called a “meditation practice.” This shit was hard. Every time my mind would finally free up, another thought would swoop in and take its place. One second I was focusing on life decisions, and next thing I knew, I was thinking about lasagna recipes. Then I’d catch myself and start over again.

  Just as I was finally slipping into the zone, my phone buzzed, throwing my focus off again. I tried to ignore it, but then found my mind wondering who the text message was from, what they wanted, if it was important. Eventually, I gave in and grabbed it.

  Oh, God. It was from my mother. There were few things in life I hated more than texting with my mother. She texted like a foreigner. It usually took six back-and-forth messages before I could even figure out what she was saying. And the worst part was, ever since texting had become popular, it was all she wanted to do. She never called anymore. It would’ve taken half the time to pick up the phone and explain something to me than it would for me to figure it out via short cryptic messages.

  Our text conversation went as follows:

  Mom: Renters coming June. Need house May.

  Me: Huh?

  Mom: Rent house first week June.

  Me: Verbs would really help here, Mom.

  Mom: Need clean house May. You need apartment.

  Me: Is that a question or a statement?

  Mom: Question.

  Me: If you’re telling me that you need me out of the house by May to clean it for the June renters, then yes, I will have an apartment by then.

  Mom: Okay.

  I sat back on the sofa, lost in thought. Was this a sign? Was my mother kicking me out and rendering me homeless the final push I needed to take the plunge? It seemed like too bizarre a coincidence not to be.

  Before I drove myself crazy with contemplation, I grabbed my phone again and dialed Jasmine’s number.

  “Tell me again why I should move back to LA,” I said as soon as she picked up.

  “Tell me why you shouldn’t.”

  I considered. I looked outside at the snow. I couldn’t think of anything.

  “I thought you’d already made up your mind,” Jasmine said. “What is with you, girl?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. It’s such a no-brainer, right?”

  “Um, yeah. But if you don’t give Michelle an answer soon, she’s going to think you’re not interested and give the job to someone else.”

  Ouch. Unemployed and homeless.

  Jasmine sighed loudly on the other end. “Think about it. Worst case, if you hate it here, which you won’t, you can always move back.”

  She was right. Enough indecision. There was a reason I wasn’t getting any jobs in Boston, and why my mother was kicking me out of their rental house, and why I had a golden offer and corporate luxury apartment waiting for me on the opposite side of the country. Because that’s where I was supposed to be.

  “Thank you,” I said. “That’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

  And before I could chicken out, I dialed Michelle Lawrence’s office line. It rang four times before going to voicemail.

  “Hi Michelle, it’s Justine Sterling,” I said. “I just wanted to let you know that I reviewed your offer and I’ve decided to accept it. Call me when you’re free and we can go over the details.”

  Michelle was elated. She kept me on the phone for a good 30 minutes, going over the upcoming events I’d be attending, the team members I’d working with, the travel agency that would be managing my corporate housing setup, flight arrangements, and car shipment. I tried to play it cool as we chatted, but secretly I felt like a celebrity. Most girls my age lived in a cramped apartment with roommates, and here I was being put up in luxury housing, with an actual company that paid my airfare and shipping expenses.

  Then came the part that made it real.

  I was scheduled to start work in four weeks.

  Because the next gaming conference was fast approaching, Michelle wanted me to start as soon as possible, so we decided a month would be enough time for me to get settled.

  My fantasies of soaking in the jacuzzi at my luxury complex came to a screeching halt as soon as I realized how quickly everything was going to change.

  A month…. hmm. I did the math in my head. It would take about a week for my car to be delivered, and another week for me to unpack, shop, and get settled in, so that left… two weeks? I only had two weeks to pack, say goodbye, and leave my life behind!

  I thought back to when David and I broke up and I decided to move home. Maybe it was because I was fueled by emotion, but at the time I had never felt so alive. I was determined. I was fearless. I had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

  I just couldn’t figure out why I didn’t feel that way now.

  “Do you have any questions?” Michelle asked.

  “No, I think we’ve covered everything,” I said. “But if I think of anything, I’ll let you know.”

  “Great. We’re so excited to have you on board, Justine.”

  “Thanks, Michelle. I’m really excited too.”

  One person who was not excited about the big move, however, was Renee.

  I’d barely even finished my sentence before Renee broke down sobbing. Then she blamed it on the hormones and said she understood. Then she broke down sobbing again.

  Since she was due in less than two weeks, I promised to stay in Boston until after the baby was born. That seemed to cheer her up. We figured out the benefits of me living in California and talked about all the things we could do together. We could take the baby to Disneyland. Dylan could play shows in LA when he was touring. I could stay with them when I visited Boston during the holidays. By the end of our conversation, we’d already worked out a long-distance plan and I hadn’t even left yet.

  The rest of the week was spent packing, completing new-hire paperwork, coordinating travel plans, and calling my family members to break the news. But as hard as I tried to envision what my new life was going to be like, it just didn’t seem real. I pictured myself wrapping up a kick-ass workday over drin
ks with Jasmine, hitting pool parties on the weekends, biking along the ocean, shopping at the Grove. I felt the snow being replaced with sunshine. I waited for the excitement to come.

  Nothing.

  And I finally realized why. It wasn’t because I was afraid of going it alone this time, it was because all those things had been much more exciting when Renee was with me. Somehow, beaches and parties and shopping without her felt a little… empty.

  But it was too late. I’d made my decision. Plus, Renee had a fiancé and a baby on the way. The days of traipsing around Hollywood together were long gone. So, as much as it hurt my heart, I had to move on with my life, too.

  Chapter 23

  My last week in Boston was fast approaching, and as predicted, Renee wouldn’t let me out of her sight. Every day she called with a new excuse for us to get together, invitations she knew I couldn’t decline. She needed help picking out a crib. She needed help painting the baby’s room. Dylan was working. She was lonely. I tried to explain how much packing I still had left, not to mention the hour drive there and back. Yet every time, I’d somehow find myself in the driver’s seat, heading north to Quincy.

  Tonight, I was called in for a celebration. After looking at a few more houses, Renee and Dylan had decided to buy the house in south Boston, which I agreed was perfect for them. They had just received their official approval today, at which point I was called and instructed to bring over a large pizza and my dessert of choice.

  What I didn’t expect was to walk into Renee’s apartment and find seven faces staring at me with matching grins.

  “Surprise!” Renee greeted, bombarding me with a hug.

  I surveyed the room, my eyes floating from person to person: Renee, Dylan, Andy, Beth, Eddie, our friend Kat, and Kat’s husband Christos. All staring at me like I was the president.

  “This is… for me?” I asked.

  “Come on, you didn’t think I was going to let you leave without a party, did you?” Renee joked.

  “Oo, pizza,” Eddie said, grabbing the box from me and setting it down on the table. He removed a piece and set it down on a plate, while also juggling a king-sized Snickers in his other hand.

  Andy cocked an eyebrow. “Dude, what is with you? You eat like a twelve-year-old whose parents are on vacation.”

  Eddie shrugged, his mouth full of pizza.

  “Tell me about it,” Beth said. “I’ve gained so much weight since we moved in together. I told him to stop keeping this crap in the house.” She turned to face me. “So, were you surprised?”

  Before I could answer, Renee had snuck up behind me. “Obviously she was surprised. Because I really hope she wouldn’t wear that to her own party.” She gave my neon-blue pants and zebra-printed shirt a once-over. Renee loved to give me a hard time about my fashion sense.

  “You’re just jealous because you have to wear maternity clothes.” I jokingly rolled my eyes at her long-sleeved navy dress. Although I had to admit, with the added tan scarf around her neck, she looked pretty trendy for a mom-to-be.

  “At least I don’t look like I got dressed in the dark,” she teased.

  “Funny, I seem to remember a time when you had bangs and dressed like a boy.”

  “I want to see pictures,” Dylan chimed in.

  “Only after we’re married,” she sang.

  “You guys are so cute!” Kat yelled, barreling into the room. I had met Kat through Renee years ago, a dark-haired little Greek beauty with a huge personality. Her husband, Christos, didn’t say much, but he didn’t really need to. His looks alone were enough for me.

  Kat linked her arm in mine. “So, are you stoked about your new job?” she asked, her face glowing. I tried to match her reaction, but I felt like a big fake.

  “I should be,” I admitted, frowning. “I think it just hasn’t hit me yet.”

  “Give it time,” she said. “When you’re laying on the beach while we’re all freezing our asses off, that’s probably when it’ll sink in.”

  “True.” I forced a smile.

  God, what was my problem? Why didn’t I feel the excitement that everyone else around me was feeling? Why was I desperately clinging onto a life here that I didn’t even want?

  “What are going to do if you ever bump into your ex and his fiancé?” came the ever-so-subtle Beth’s voice behind me.

  I hesitated, debating my response. Of course, I’d imagined the scenario a thousand times in my head, a different outcome occurring each time. Sometimes, I pretended I didn’t see them. Sometimes, I made small talk with David and watched him squirm. And sometimes, if I was in an extra-bitter mood, I caused a giant scene, exposing David as the cheating slimeball he was. That was my favorite fantasy, of course, but I’d never do that in real life. I was too much of a wuss.

  “Oh, I doubt that will happen,” Kat interjected, saving me. “LA’s a big city.” Sensing my discomfort, she reached out and sat me down on the bar stool next to her. “So, when do you leave?”

  “I told my boss that I’m going to stay until after Renee has the baby,” I said. “So I’m waiting until then to confirm with the travel agency.”

  “Oh, speaking of…” Kat grabbed Renee and pulled her over. “Did you know they bought a house?”

  “Justine helped me pick it out, actually,” Renee said.

  “I’m so happy for you guys!” Kat flailed her arms in the air. “You need to have a housewarming party.”

  “We will,” Renee said. “Once we’re settled in and the weather’s a little warmer. I was thinking of getting a little tiki bar for the backyard.”

  As I listened to Renee and Kat’s enthusiasm over their upcoming plans, all I could think about was the fact that these plans didn’t include me. I was supposed to be moving forward with my life, but instead I was focusing on all the things I was leaving behind. Here I was, surrounded by a room full of friends, and I had never felt so alone in my life.

  Noticing my reaction, Kat shot me a concerned look. “Justine, is everything okay?”

  I tried my hardest to hide my disappointment, as I didn’t want to be a downer after Renee had organized tonight on my behalf.

  “I’m fine,” I lied. “I think I…” I looked down just as I felt a splash of water hit the floor. “I think I… just spilled my drink.”

  Kat’s gaze followed mine, then Renee’s. “Um, I don’t think…” Kat began.

  “Oh my God.” Renee’s jaw dropped, her eyes searching for Dylan. He looked up at her from the other end of the kitchen.

  “Was is it?” he asked.

  “Dylan,” she said, staring down at her dress in shock. “I think my water just broke.”

  As it turned out, Renee’s maternal intuition had a few crossed wires.

  Her name was Sierra Cavallari. She was seven pounds, eight ounces, with a little upturned nose, sandy-blonde hair and bright-red cheeks. Even thought her tiny face was right in front of me, it was still a miracle to me that she was real. Renee was a mother. Renee, the girl who had been by my side through everything – teenage concerts, spring-break trips, college parties, girls’ weekends in Vegas. Those days were gone. From this point forward, our lives would be forever changed.

  When I’d arrived at the hospital that morning, Renee’s parents, Dylan’s mother, and Beth were already spread across her room, their gazes all frozen on the new arrival. I watched as Dylan’s mother scooped Sierra into her petite hands, staring in amazement at her first grandchild. Renee had mentioned that Dylan’s father passed away years ago, and I wondered if Mrs. Cavallari was thinking of him right now, if she was remembering the day Dylan was born. If she missed him.

  Just then, Kat burst into the room, instantly halting the sentimental family ambiance.

  “Look at her!” she screamed, racing toward Sierra. “She is beautiful.” She turned to Renee with a skeptical expression. “Mother’s intuition my ass.”

  “I know. I’m never going to hear the end of it.” Renee’s tired eyes crinkled at the corners, like she wa
nted to smile but didn’t have the energy.

  “What’s her name?” Kat asked.

  “Sierra,” Dylan answered proudly.

  “Sierra,” Kat repeated, lowering her face to meet Sierra’s. “Well, Sierra, I hope your mom knows that she’d better call me any time she needs a babysitter.”

  “Me too,” Beth said.

  “Me three,” Renee’s dad joked.

  “Well, I don’t think you’ll have any problems finding a babysitter,” Mrs. Cavallari said. Then she leaned down next to Renee and whispered, “But I want first dibs.”

  I tried to laugh along with everyone until I realized that I was the only one who couldn’t volunteer to babysit. In fact, since I was starting a new job and had to accrue vacation time, Sierra would probably be close to a year old before I’d see her again.

  “Oh, before I forget…” Renee’s mom reached out and handed her a small gift bag. “Just something small that I picked up.”

  Renee reached into the bag, removing a small white onesie that displayed the phrase Home is where the heart is in pink letters across the front.

  “Pink?” Renee stared at her accusingly. “Did you know something I didn’t?”

  “I got one in each color, just in case.” Mrs. Evans winked at her.

  Dylan took the onesie from her grasp and set it on a table that held all the miscellaneous cards, flowers, and gifts that everyone had brought. But for some reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

  Home is where the heart is.

  That was it. The uncertainty I was experiencing, the reason for my indecision. Home wasn’t where a job awaited, or warmer weather, or a more exciting nightlife. LA had felt like home because I had experienced it with two people I’d loved more than anyone. Regardless whether David had turned out to be a mistake, I had loved him and I had learned from him. And now, I had learned something else.

  Boston, with its abundance of snow and apparent lack of jobs, was my home. Because everyone and everything I now loved was here.

  “I’m going to go,” I spit out, looking toward the door anxiously. I felt a sudden surge of urgency. I had a lot to think about. And very little time.