Once I’m in the door I am immediately greeted with the aroma of freshly baked bread and my stomach jumps to attention. Thankfully it’s loud in here and nobody else is privy to the serenade of hunger happening from within me. It only takes three steps before the room spins, the voices turn to a dull hum, and my world flips.
Ben.
And Laurel.
I quickly take a mental tally of our conversation last night and our morning. Nope, no mention of Laurel. We definitely didn’t talk about him meeting Laurel or the fact he’d be holding hands with her across the table.
As much as it pains me to admit it, my mother was right. This was never going to work. I’ve put him off too long. He wanted to take things beyond friendship months ago and I said no. I pushed him away and he’s finally had enough.
My chest is tight, my breath is shallow, and I hear a ringing in my ears. I swear on my favorite book if I faint in this deli with Bentley Sullivan sitting nearby holding another woman’s hand I’ll never be able to handle the smell of freshly baked bread again. It will forever remind me of this moment and how every part of my being is screaming to run.
And I do. I don’t pick up my lunch and I don’t confront him. Instead, I turn on my heel and walk out the door I just entered. Somehow I make it to my car and pull out of my parking space before the first tear falls. The first of many. There can’t possibly be enough tears in my body to convey the level of devastation I feel.
When will I ever just be enough? When will a man look at me and think, “That’s the girl for me. She is everything I need.”? I am beginning to wonder if that man exists. I knew over these last few weeks that I had fallen in love with Ben. I also felt deep down it was too soon and that telling him would make me vulnerable
I pull into the school parking lot and manage to pull myself together enough to finish the school day. The afternoon is a haze and the kids love me more than ever because they spent the afternoon doing an impromptu art project that didn’t require me to have it together. I convinced myself I wasn’t a bad teacher because we are going into a school break and its fun for the kids to have down time.
I’m gathering my things with the intent to get home before Ben stops by my classroom like he does every day. As I pull my purse on my shoulder I notice Jacob Thorne is still in his seat. I put my things down and walk over to him.
“Jacob, sweetie, what are you doing?”
I notice Jacob is fiddling with something in his lap, and as I lean over to look, he starts giggling.
“You can’t see yet. I have to do the plan.”
“The plan? Jacob, I need to get home soon. Is Mrs. Honeycutt picking you up today?”
Nodding, he finally blesses me with the sweetest smile that I return.
“Well, since I have to leave maybe I can take you up to the office to wait for her. How about that?”
“Nope. That’s not the plan. Hold on,” he says as he slides out of his seat. Taking a deep breath, he looks up at the ceiling.
“I’m membering so just a sec, mmkay?”
“Okay, but I really do need to go, sweetie.”
“Miss Lawrence,” Jacob begins.
It’s obvious he’s memorized something and suddenly running from this place and my own drama isn’t my priority. This sweet boy who has something planned is.
“I think you are the nicest lady ever. My mommy says you are boring. My mommy is silly ‘cause you are super fun and can color really good.”
Felicity thinks I’m boring. That almost seems like a compliment. Surely that wasn’t her intent.
“I want to be a fireman when I grows up so I can protect you from fires. So I made you this,” he tells me as he hands me a picture. Like with most of my students, it takes me a few seconds to process what I’m seeing. It’s a woman who I assume is me being handed a flower by a little boy.
“Thank you, Jacob.”
“Yep. Clem won’t help me drawl a flower so it’s not good but it’s for you. I think you are the prettiest lady and I am sad I am going to the snow and you won’t be there.”
“Aww, Jacob. This is the sweetest gift I’ve received. I think you are going to have a great time with your family next week and just think, when you get back you’ll have all kinds of stories to tell your friends.”
That comment seems to pacify him because he offers me a full smile. I open my arms for a hug and he runs into them. I hear a throat clear and look up to see Mrs. Honeycutt at the door.
“He’s been practicing that speech for a week. Thank you for letting him give it.”
“Jacob, is that true? Did you practice all of that just for me?”
He nods as he pulls away. I smile and brush the hair away from his face. This sweet boy has no idea how much this means to me today. How, in the wake of having my heart broken by the only man who carries the power to do so, his words and kindness have lessened the blow.
A second clearing of a throat catches my attention and I see Ben has joined Mrs. Honeycutt at the door. With his messenger bag slung over his shoulder and his button-up shirt untucked with the sleeves rolled up, a flicker of desire sparks and I almost forget the pain I felt at the deli. Almost.
“Hello, Mrs. Honeycutt. What do we have here?”
“Hello, Mr. Sullivan. Jacob was just giving Miss Lawrence a gift. He’s going to miss her over the upcoming break.” With a whisper she continues, “I think our Jacob is a bit smitten with Miss Lawrence.”
“I know the feeling,” is mumbled in response. If Mrs. Honeycutt heard it, she didn’t respond.
“Jacob, let’s go. I’m sure Mr. Sullivan and Miss Lawrence have places to be.”
“Thank you again for my gift, Jacob. Have a wonderful time on your trip and I’ll see you when we get back.”’
“Okay,” Jacob responds as he places one of his tiny hands on mine. “Don’t miss me, okay, Miss Lawrence?”
Laughing for the first time all afternoon, I agree. Jacob leaves with Mrs. Honeycutt and the tension in the room is thick as I move to my desk and gather my things. My hands are shaking and I just want to get out of here. I turn to head for the door and walk right into Ben.
“Whoa, where’s the fire?”
“I need to get home.”
“I know, I wanted to see if you felt like ordering in tonight instead of cooking. I never understand how a group of seven-year-olds can be so exhausting.”
“I can’t. I have a headache and just want to go home.”
“Okay, I’ll grab something and meet you at your place. About an hour?”
“I just want to go home and sleep,” I snap and start walking out the door.
I hear Ben walking quickly to catch me. When his hand grabs my elbow I stop with my back to him.
“Please just let me go home, Ben. I’m exhausted and my head hurts.”
“Something is wrong. Tell me what it is, Piper.”
Only shaking my head, I walk away, leaving Ben standing in the hallway.
Swinging a hammer is therapeutic. It is for me, anyway. I’ve spent the last four hours working on the porch of my house. This will be the most secure set of stairs in the county by the time I’m done with them. I should be inside working but this is better for releasing the tension that’s built inside me since I left Piper at the school. Or, more accurately, since she left me at the school.
The last few weeks have been great between us. We’ve grown closer, had quality time, and I thought we were on the same page with where we were heading in our relationship. I even planned to talk to Piper tonight about telling Ashton next week during Thanksgiving dinner.
I should’ve known this day would turn to shit when I had an early-morning text from Laurel. She’d started dating a guy she met through work so I hadn’t heard from her in a few weeks. When I checked my phone this morning and saw a text from her asking me if we could meet for coffee today during my lunch, I knew in my gut something was wrong. Then Tessa showed up.
I will never say anything against Tessa because sh
e’s Piper’s mother. That being said, I now know who is responsible for all of the self-doubt Piper harbors. I’m under no guise that I am the best catch in town, but to encourage Piper to go back to Tony instead of being with me is ridiculous. I don’t know what else they talked about after I left, but considering her reaction to me this afternoon I can’t believe it was anything positive or Team Ben.
Lunch with Laurel solidified my feelings for Piper. There was never any doubt on my part, but one of the first things Laurel asked me was if I was in love. I didn’t tell Laurel that I was in love with Piper. That wouldn’t be fair to Piper or our relationship. She should be the recipient of that information before anyone else. I did confirm that I was with someone and this was a forever kind of relationship. Laurel said she was happy for me. Then she started crying.
I knew something was wrong when she texted me this morning. Since our split, we have talked a few times, but mostly kept in touch via text. A little over a month ago she kind of fell off the grid and I hadn’t heard from her. I knew she was dating again and figured she had met someone. There was nothing specific in the text this morning but it was just a feeling I had.
My instinct as she started crying was to offer her comfort, but she seemed to retreat from me. Instead, I held her hand and she started talking. Apparently the guy she was dating wasn’t the good guy he had portrayed. He is possessive and controlling. Picking up on what she wasn’t saying, I deduced he is also an abusive asshole.
Refusing to confirm or deny the abuse, she did confirm that she had secured a protection order from the bastard. I immediately saw red and wanted to hunt the guy down. Laurel said that since she began dating this guy, she hadn’t seen or talked to most of her friends and that was why she reached out to me. Unfortunately, a piece of paper doesn’t protect a person and he has still been bothering her indirectly.
I’m grateful Laurel knew she could come to me. Without a second thought, I invited her to stay at my parents’ house for a while and to spend Thanksgiving with us. She balked at the idea at first, but relented when I reminded her the jerk couldn’t find her here. I wanted to send her to the house immediately but she insisted on going home to pack a few of her things. I begrudgingly agreed after she promised to check in when she got home and come back tonight regardless of the time.
I wanted to get some time with Piper after school to check in from her talk with her mom this morning but also to let her know that Laurel was coming to town. I know that initially it may be awkward, but Piper will understand my need to help Laurel. Plus, if Laurel is going to be staying with my parents for the next week, we needed to come up with a game plan to explain why I’m staying with her for the next week. My personal preference is to just lay it all out and let the chips fall as they may. Like anytime I am able to just watch her, seeing Piper with her student reaffirmed how deep my feelings run and how amazing she truly is.
Then she served me her bullshit headache excuse instead of talking to me. I know it’s a bullshit excuse because she used it before on Ashton to get out of lying to her face. Obviously she doesn’t have the same concern when it comes to me. I have no idea what happened from the time I left her apartment and I arrived in her classroom but, whatever it is, I know I’m not going to like it.
I put down the hammer and walk to the cooler, contemplating one of the beers I brought or a water. It takes all of thirty seconds before I choose the beer. This choice means I’m done working for the night. I opt instead to have a fire and try for the fifth time to call Piper.
Like I’ve done the other four times, I follow up the voicemail with a text.
Me: I hope you’re feeling better. Call me so I know you’re ok or I’m coming over.
This time, I receive a response.
Piper: I’m fine. Please don’t come over.
Me: Tell me what I can do.
Piper: Just give me some space.
Me: Space? Is something wrong? Don’t do this Piper. Don’t run from me.
Piper: Please, Ben. Space. I just need to process.
Me: Can I at least text you?
Piper: In moderation. Don’t be a creepy stalker.
Me: It’s not stalking if you want me to do it.
Piper: Says every stalker.
Me: See if I was there we could debate my stalker status.
Piper: Nice try. Please respect my request, Ben.
Me: I always respect you. I don’t like it but ok. Get some rest and sleep well.
Piper: I will.
Me: I won’t. I’m used to you in my arms.
Piper: Ben…
Me: It’s true. Sleep well, Princess.
Piper: Night, Cowboy.
It’s not the same as talking to her, but at least it was a conversation. Since I won’t be spending my night with Piper, I decide to text Jameson. I’m sure he’s going out or has a date but it’s worth a shot. When I scroll down to his name I note it’s been over a week since I’ve called or talked to him. He’s sure to give me shit for that.
Me: What are you up to tonight?
Jameson: Who is this?
Me: Screw you asshole.
Jameson: Oh is this that guy I know? Ben Sullivan?
Me: Hardy har har. Don’t quit your day job.
Jameson: What’s up dick?
Me: Nothing just seeing what you were up to. I was just finishing up work on the house for the night.
Jameson: I’m actually out your way, I’ll swing by.
Me: Cool. I’ll be here.
Twenty minutes later Jameson has joined me by the fire I started. Armed with his own beer, he takes the seat next to me. We’re quiet for a few minutes and I welcome the silence because I know I’m about to get an earful about leaving my buddies hanging and about Piper. I still haven’t confirmed there’s anything going on between Piper and me, but Jameson has enough figured out to know where I’ve been the last few weeks.
“So, where’s Piper tonight?”
That didn’t take long.
“She has a headache.”
“So we aren’t skirting the issue, you’re going to admit you’re together?”
“I’m not skirting. I’ve been respecting her wishes but I have a feeling something is wrong and I need to talk to someone.”
“Mmhmm. I see. So I’m good enough when you need someone to unleash your secret relationship on but not enough to just hang out? That’s cold, Ben.”
I turn to him to defend myself and see he’s smiling.
“Dude, I’m sorry. I’ve been a shit friend haven’t I?”
“Nah, man. You’re in love. This is what happens. I’m just giving you a hard time.”
“Thanks.”
“Wait, you didn’t deny the love part.”
I opt to not answer. I am committed to Piper being the first person to hear that I love her, but I won’t deny it.
“I’m not talking about that with you. If I’m having that conversation, it’s going to be with Piper.”
“I see. Well, good for you. Both of you. When are you coming out?”
“I hope next week. I wanted to talk to her tonight and tell my parents first. Kind of use them as a buffer for Ash on Thanksgiving.”
“Thanksgiving. Good call. Ashton is her happiest when there is pie.”
Over the next few hours I relay my day to Jameson and he offers the spare room at his house for Laurel. As much as I appreciate the offer, I think Laurel needs to be somewhere she is familiar with. Plus, my mom will mother her to death and that’ll also be good for her. Before we leave I promise to not be a recluse anymore and commit to a few runs this week and poker with the guys.
The drive back to my parents’ house is depressing. Each mile that clicks away on the odometer is a reminder of how I’d rather be heading to Piper and her bed. I should’ve just stayed at the house tonight, but Laurel texted me that she’s going to get in after midnight and I want to be there when she does. Plus, I need to run a little interference with Ashton before Laurel gets there. Ash has n
ever really been a fan of Laurel’s and I need to get her up to speed before she says something snarky.
I have a little time before Ashton should get home from work so I opt for a shower and a snack. After rummaging the fridge, I put together a mish-mash of a meal and am only about halfway through it when the kitchen door opens and Ashton walks in.
“Well, hello there, stranger. Finally come up for air?”
“Hey, sis.” My response is not nearly as antagonistic as hers.
“Whoa, what’s going on? Someone die? Are the parentals okay?”
Pushing my plate away, I take a drink of my milk before answering. “Yeah, they’re fine. It’s just been a shit of a day.”
“Problems with your lady love?”
I’m taken aback by her comment. She couldn’t possibly know about Piper and me. “Lady love?”
“Come on, you haven’t slept here in weeks and if you’ve been at your house then you’d be in traction from sleeping on the floor. One can only assume there’s a lady love in the scenario,” she replies, sitting down as she takes my fork and starts eating the rest of my food.
“Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about something.” I’m going to just skirt on by her comments about a lady love.
“Sure, what’s going on? You’re being weird, even for you.”
I tell her about Laurel and how I invited her for the week. I expected a smart-ass comment from Ashton about Laurel, but I was wrong.
“Oh my goodness. Ben, that’s awful. Is she okay? Of course she should stay here. Did she call the police and stuff?”
“Yeah, she did. I think she just needs a change of scenery and regroup. I figured this was a safe place for her. I felt really bad, Ash. Can I tell you something?”
She nods as she slides the plate away, the topic obviously effecting her appetite.
“I feel responsible.”
“What? No way, Ben. You cannot assume the responsibility of this.”
“Logically I know it’s not my fault, but I can’t help but wonder if I hadn’t moved back home if this would have happened.”
Whiskey & Honey Page 19