As I disengaged myself from an awkward conversation with another of Spencer’s exes, I caught a glimpse of Leighann talking to a guy who looked vaguely familiar. I approached her, eager to talk to someone I actually knew. It wasn’t until I got there and saw the guy embrace her that I realized who it was.
“Brad?” I’m not sure why it came out as a question, because it was definitely him. I hadn’t heard from him since the day on the lake, but apparently things had gone well that day for him and Leighann.
“Hey, cuz!” he said, letting go of Leighann and coming to hug me instead. She was beaming.
“I didn’t know you were back in town,” I said.
“Neither did I,” Leighann said. “He surprised me.”
“So I guess one of Jill’s plans finally worked,” I said, nodding towards the pair. They both looked away a little awkwardly.
“Hey!” Leighann said, changing the subject. “How did your thing go today? Jill said your mom was going...”
“Actually, it was great. Surprisingly so.”
“You mean the class you were teaching at that store?” The fact that this came from Brad confused me.
“How did you know about that?” I asked.
“Aaron mentioned it the other day,” he said with a shrug. “Have you talked to him lately?”
“Not today,” I said, immediately realizing how that sounded. Leighann picked up on it.
“Waiiiit a minute. You and Aaron? Really???” I felt my cheeks burning and hoped the quickening darkness would hide it from them.
“It’s not like that,” I said. “But we have become good friends.”
“Must be really good friends if he knew all about your new job and teaching that class,” she said, a note of accusation ringing in her voice.
I realized I was being stupid, cowering under her comments. More than that, I was making myself an easy target. “We are, but that’s it,” I said with more conviction. “And,” I added, “we are both more than content with that, so don’t pull a Jill and try to make it into something more.” Brad was smiling, but more out of the humor of the situation than teasing me. I could tell Leighann’s wheels were turning, that she was unconvinced. “A little help, Brad?” I pleaded.
He straightened his face. “She’s right, or at least that’s Aaron’s story, too.”
“Hmmm...," Leighann said, finger tapping her chin as though she were deep in thought.
“Leigh, seriously. We’ve got a good thing going. Please don’t mess it up by meddling. I already have enough of that in my life.”
“Oh that reminds me,” she said, a hint of concern in her voice. “Carson’s here.” I rolled my eyes. I really wanted to just leave, as this night was not living up to the standard set by the day, but I had ridden with Jill, so I was stuck. “I didn’t invite him, I promise. He came with some other guys.”
“Wonderful,” I said. There was really no use in hiding from him; the yard was too small for that, and whether I stayed with the group or not, he could find me if he wanted to.
I could tell Brad and Leighann had some, er, catching up to do, so I wandered off to the edge of the yard, as far away from the crowd and the noise as possible, and leaned against the split rail fence. The fireworks would be starting before long; afterwards I could leave. Smoke from bottle rockets and Roman candles mixed with the pinks and oranges of the darkening sky. There was something still and quiet about it, even with the party sounds nearby. I’d been so busy between the move and working and trying to reconnect with friends that I couldn’t even remember the last time I had walked outside with no purpose in mind, no destination in sight.
I was looking off to my right, so I didn’t see Carson walk up on my left. “Sup, Brooke,” he slurred, the red cup in his hand evidence of the reason. I shuddered. I didn’t really want company, especially not Carson’s company. Especially not when he was drunk.
I backed up a bit, putting some space between us. “Hi, Carson. How are you?” I made sure to keep my tone polite, but not overly friendly. He needed to know that I was not interested.
“What’re you doing out here all by your lonesome?” he asked.
“Um, I just wanted a break, I guess,” I replied.
“It’s not good for a pretty girl like you to be alone in the dark,” he said. “Boogie Man might getcha.” Now I was moving from annoyed to disgusted. His behavior was the reason I rarely drank: I couldn’t stand not being in control, and equally despised others who were not.
“I think I can hold my own. If the Boogie Man has been up at the party, he likely won’t be able to walk straight anyway.”
Carson slapped his knee and let out a big belly laugh. How did Jill think I would ever be interested in him? He was soft around the middle, and his shirt--a loud obnoxious orange--sported a ketchup stain. Not that these were huge flaws, but it definitely proved that he did not #21 care about his appearance. “Funny and pretty,” he continued. “Now that’s a combination I like.”
He was moving nearer to me incrementally. And while this didn’t exactly scare me, it did make me uncomfortable. My gut told me that if I tried to walk away he would grab my arm or something to stop me. That could get ugly fast. And so I hoped instead that someone would wander this way, distract him.
At that exact moment my phone rang. I didn’t have to look at the screen to know it was Aaron, once again saving me. “Um, sorry, Carson,” I said, “but I really need to take this call. See you around.” And I really did need to take the call. The next morning Aaron would be leaving for his team’s senior retreat, some three day male bonding ritual where communication with the outside world was strictly forbidden. The coach literally took their cell phones and left them in his office for the duration of the trip. With the exception of that one horrible day, we’d talked at least once every day since that first call from camp. A few days of not talking to a friend should not have been a big deal, but I was dreading it immensely.
“Your timing is impeccable,” I said by way of answering. I walked quickly away from Carson and headed a little closer to the rest of the party.
“Hmm...,” he said. “Let me guess: Jill?”
“Close,” I said. “What’s up?”
“Just finishing out a great Fourth of July. Good food, good music, good friends. All that’s missing is you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. What about the fireworks?” I knew that he had gone to a festival/concert with some of his buddies after work, and that he was probably still there.
“Great fireworks,” he said. “How were they down there?”
“Haven’t started yet,” I replied.
“Ah, I guess not. So how did today go? At the store?” Of course Aaron would be wondering about this. He was always so aware of what was going on in my life, so quick to ask about it. I relayed in detail the day’s events, from the demonstration, to the great feedback I’d gotten, to the increase in sales. “I’m not at all surprised,” he said. “But I’m still really proud of you.” #26. I watched Carson and some of his friends stumble past and wondered how in the world I would ever be able to give any guy a chance when there was no way he’d measure up to Aaron.
“There’s one more thing,” I said.
“What’s that?” Aaron asked.
“My mom came to the class. And asked me to go to lunch with her tomorrow.”
“Wow,” he said. “So what do you think that will be like?” Aaron understood. He knew how my parents were, and was always on my side when it came to them. I shied away from sharing my family drama with anyone else, one because I didn’t like to complain, and two, because I was afraid it might get back to them somehow. But I trusted Aaron, and knew that my words--and my feelings--were safe with him.
“I think it will be okay,” I said. “She was all smiles and even a little weepy at the store today. I guess it can’t get much worse, so I don’t really have anything to lose.” And I didn’t. Not really, anyway. Worst case, my mom would give me ten reasons to go back to Spe
ncer over salads and croissants. I’d heard it all before, so once more wouldn’t hurt. But she was my mom, and I felt obligated to keep giving her chances.
“I’ll be interested to hear all about it to--,” he stopped short. “Sunday night,” he said flatly. “Man, that’s going to suck. I guess I’ve taken our talks for granted. I mean, it’s just part of my day.”
“Don’t I know it,” I said. I didn’t really know what talking to me each night meant to him, though I could hear the happiness in his voice when we spoke, and it was most often he who called me. But I knew what it meant to me, that it was a constant I held tight to amidst the chaos in my mind and heart.
Or at least it was at first. Now I was feeling much more centered, like I was me again, but I wasn’t yet confident enough to feel like that could continue without Aaron. And, really, I was okay with that. It may seem somewhat codependent, but it was nice knowing I had someone I could always rely on, a person who’d drop everything to help me at two am. I’d never told him that, but I felt he somehow knew it anyway. Instead of confessing all this, though, I said, “What is it you’re going to be doing all weekend again?”
“I have no idea,” he answered. “It’s a closely guarded secret each year, and the seniors never share what happens.”
“That sounds scary,” I said. “Do you at least know where you’re going? I mean, what if something happens? How will anyone know where to start looking for you? Or how to contact you?”
“Coach has a cell phone--the only one on the trip,” he said gently, obviously sensing the worry in my voice. “And his secretary has the details in case anything happens to us or someone needs to get in contact with us. But nothing has ever happened. I know that much.”
“Do you even know where you’re going?” I asked again.
“Somewhere out in the woods, based on the list of things we were told to bring. But I have no idea where exactly. It could be at a park a few miles away or somewhere in another state.”
I hesitated, not sure if I wanted to say the words that were resting on the tip of my tongue. After a moment’s pause I thought, What the heck? Aaron and I had always been open with each other, holding nothing back. “I’ll miss you,” I said finally, softly. The words hung in the air for a few seconds, and I feared I might have scared him, moved too close.
He sighed, not a sigh of exasperation, but...was it relief? “I’ll miss you, too, Brooke. A lot.”
The first booms of the city’s firework show began, and I knew in just a few seconds we wouldn’t be able to hear each other. “Be careful, okay?” I said. “And call me when you get back.”
“The second we get in. Promise. And Brooke?” he didn’t wait for my reply. “Next time I think we should watch the fireworks together. Sweet dreams.”
Chapter 15
“So,” my mother said as she added a packet of sweetener to her tea, “let’s talk.” Few conversations that begin with those words end well. In fact, they were the very words Spencer had used when he transitioned from pleasant dinner conversation to dumping me.
“Okay,” I said. “What shall we talk about?” Bad move. I should have known better at this point. I should have launched into a topic of conversation myself, distracted her from whatever ulterior motive she had in asking me to lunch.
“Spencer’s and your relationship.” Had I told Aaron only the night before that things couldn’t get worse? I was wrong, obviously.
“Mother, we’ve talked about this before. It’s over, and I’m glad. I have no--”
“I know,” she interrupted me. “Jill told me what happened. What he did to you. And, honey,” she looked directly at me, her eyes soft, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that he did that to you, and I’m sorry that I kept pushing you to patch things up. I...I didn’t know.”
“I know.”
“But, Brooke, why didn’t you tell me? You know you can tell me these things, right?” The truth was, I had never felt that comfortable talking to my mother about such things. Boys were pretty much off limits in terms of accepted topics of conversation. Jill was the one she raised to be boy crazy; I was supposed to be responsible and together. Now, however, did not seem to be the time to bring that up.
“Mom,” I said, searching for an answer I knew she’d understand, “I was dumped on my birthday only to find out my boyfriend proposed to the girl he was cheating on me with the very next day. It’s not the kind of news one really wants to broadcast, you know?”
“Well, I certainly can understand that,” she said, nodding, “but I’m your mother. You could have told me.”
“I wish it hadn’t mattered,” I said softly.
“Hadn’t mattered?” I could hear the confusion in her voice. “Of course what he did mattered. I would never want my daughter dating someone who thought so little of their commitment.”
“That’s not what I mean. I mean, I wish the fact that I didn’t want to see Spencer anymore was enough for you. I wish it didn’t take you finding out about the cheating to side with me.” She set her glass down and slowly slid her finger around the rim.
“You two just seemed so perfect for one another,” she said, not really looking at me.
“Only because I changed who I was to fit that role, not that it did much good.” I moved my head until I caught her eye, made her look at me. “Mom, I wasn’t me when I was with him. Was I devastated by the breakup? Of course. Did I hurt all over again when I found out about the other girl? Definitely. But in hindsight, I changed over the last few years, and I don’t like who I changed into.”
There. I had finally told my mother what I had wanted to say for three months. I waited for the earth to shift, for natural disasters to ensue. But all that happened was that a tear slipped down my mother’s cheek.
“I just want you to be happy,” she said. I thought Spencer made you happy.”
I sighed. “He did, at first. But then he became a habit I didn’t know how to break, and it wasn’t until he was gone that I realized I wanted to. But now...,” I trailed off, searching for just the right words. “But now I feel like I’ve reclaimed my self. The real me. And I’m happy.”
Mom dabbed at her cheek and smiled at me. “Then I am, too.”
From there we changed topics to work and what now appeared to be the series of classes I was going to teach. We ate. We laughed. We quit while we were ahead. I did not expect one lunch to completely fix all the problems my mother and I had, nor did I think it would make us as close as Marcie and her mom were. Our relationship just wasn’t like that. But I finally felt the pressure to go back to who I had become dissipate. I wasn’t convinced that Mom was completely on my side, but at least now I knew she wasn’t on Spencer’s.
Out of habit, I looked at my phone before turning out the light and going to sleep both Friday and Saturday nights. I knew there wouldn’t be a text, and wasn’t even looking for one, but still, I’d been disappointed both times. Waiting until I was pretty sure he was asleep, I’d sent him a text later July 4th so it would be waiting for him when he woke up. “Have fun,” it’d said. “Be careful and don’t forget me while you’re gone.” I found his reply when I woke up, hours after his cell phone had been confiscated and the bus had left the parking lot: “I will. I will. Impossible. :)”
Saturday night I’d spent with some girl friends having dinner and catching the latest chick flick. The company, the food and the movie were all great, but a couple of times I did catch myself wondering what Aaron was doing. I was sure he was having fun, probably fishing and playing ball and telling funny stories around a campfire, things not so different from what I was doing, really.
But I missed him. Lots. Perhaps this was a good thing, I’d reasoned. I mean, it’s not like we could really talk to one another every day for the rest of our lives. That wasn’t feasible, right? I didn’t like the answer to my own question.
My plans for Sunday included the gym, laundry and reading a book I had anticipated coming out for months. My sister, however, had other idea
s.
“But you can never have enough clothes,” Jill whined. She’d called right as I put the first load in the washing machine, begging me to go shopping with her. “Please?” she begged. “Pretty please? Pretty please with...”
“Okay, okay, I’ll go!” I said before she could finish. And so I found myself at the mall with my sister on a rainy Sunday afternoon. I went mostly because I knew she wouldn’t give in until I did, but now on our second store, I had two shopping bags, while she had none.
“Ooh!” she said as we entered the “Trend Stop” section. “You have to try this on.” The sundress with yellow and grey flowers was not something I would have picked out, but I was tired of arguing with my sister and losing, so I took the dress, handed her my bags, and made for the fitting room.
As soon as I came out, I knew that she saw exactly what I did: it was perfect. The pleats at the skirt created just enough fullness. The straps were not too skinny. The neckline was low enough to be fashionable, but not so low as to make me uncomfortable.
“But where would I wear it?” I asked. I had a dozen sun dresses hanging in my closet, none getting much use.
Jill rolled her eyes. “Dinner, a party, even to the mall on a shopping trip with your sister, especially if you dress it down with a jean jacket.” I looked at myself again. I did love the color combination. And it was on sale.
Two hours later my shopping bags had grown in number to five, including the yellow and grey dress, a ruffled kelly green one, a few flowy tops, some new jewelry and headbands and a pair of gold sandals I planned to take back once Jill was gone. I shifted my bags to one hand and checked the time on my phone. 3:31. Aaron could be back any minute. All he’d been told was that they’d be back “around dinner or a little before,” though.
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