Friendzoned (The Busy Bean)

by Rachel Blaufeld

  “I hear you,” I said. “It’s just, I’m looking to get involved here in Vermont. I’m not in New York anymore, and I need some experience here. I need to get my feet wet in this world. Like the thing with the white shorts. I don’t understand small town rules or whatever.”

  Scanning the crowd, she said, “Hold that thought for one second.”

  Still mentally cursing myself, I shut my mouth. Not entirely sure why I had to fully expose myself, I turned to see what Hunnie was doing.

  “Hey.” Hunnie rounded the table, her short legs carrying her as fast as they possibly could. “Hey, Ben! Wait up.”

  The person she was chasing turned around, proving that today was obviously my very, very unlucky day. Standing there in jeans and a white T-shirt, his muscular arms making him look more like a professional football player rather than a physician, was Ben Rooney.

  Hunnie hurried up to him, talking a mile a minute. “Ben, did you have a chance to talk with your dad about the land? Don’t forget I called you, and you said you would. You promised. I’m still very interested, and if your dad wanted, we could go into it together. You know, the petting zoo would bring a lot of traffic to both places in the summer months. Local families looking for something to do on the weekend and tourists. It would be an awesome destination, and they could leave with syrup and cheese, and of course, honey.”

  Ben shook his head. “Sorry, Hunnie. I haven’t seen him. I’ve been busy with work and Branson, but I’m supposed to have dinner with my parents next week.”

  I hadn’t realized I’d been inching further to hear their conversation, until Ben looked up and I was standing right next to him.

  “Oh, this is Murphy.” Hunnie grabbed my hand and pulled me next to her. “She’s here about being my intern. See? We’d have an intern too for the petting zoo. Think Instagram. And sales. Posts and likes or loves on Facebook.” She looked at me, her eyes begging me to agree. “You could help with all this, right? You said you know what you’re doing.”

  Before I could even respond, she turned back to Ben. “Murphy’s from the big city but lives here now.”

  “Is that right?” He cocked an eyebrow and stared me down. “Actually, I know Murphy from the Bean. Are you sure she’s not trying to steal trade secrets?”

  Hunnie scoffed. “For who, Zara? Never. Audrey uses my honey to drizzle on her cinnamon monkey bread. We support each other. Stop trying to make trouble, Ben. Always up to no good when it comes to regular life in Vermont. We can’t all be fancy doctors.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” I said, tugging my hand back as I turned to face Hunnie. “I’d never share secrets. I don’t even get involved in the baking other than what I eat. That’s Roderick’s area. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you two. I was just going to tell you I’d wander around and be back when you were finished.”

  “Sounds good,” she said, believing me.

  I chalked up her carefree attitude to Vermont exuberance. It’s as if the water had happy pills in it . . . except when it came to Ben. He was chipper, and then not so nice, and then happy again before becoming all-out cunning.

  What was it with him? He never used to be this way. Yeah, at Pressman he labeled himself as an outsider and everyone treated him as such, but he was back home now in his beloved Vermont.

  “That’s a good idea. Let’s wander.” Ben grabbed my elbow and led me away from Hunnie to walk next to him. Lowering his voice, he said sharply, “What in the world are you doing, walking around the farmers’ market like you belong here? Shopping for . . . what are you shopping for?” He stopped in his tracks and stared me down.

  “What are you doing?” I hissed out the words but yet forced a smile, never one to make a scene.

  “Tell me something. What are you doing?” He tossed my question back at me. “Working as a barista, then moonlighting as an intern for Hunnie? You graduated from an Ivy League college in Manhattan and your family has more connections than God. Are you mocking our small-town life here? Is that what you’re doing, making fun of us? Getting some sick revenge?”

  His mouth tightened as he spoke, and he looked like he was gasping for air. He faced me, his feet planted and his eyes staring me down, daring me to cop to his accusation.

  I pulled in a calming breath. “No, I’m not mocking a thing. I meant it when I told you how you spoke so highly of it here, I decided to give it a try. I needed a fresh perspective. I swear. My family wasn’t happy with that choice either, so they’re keeping their distance from my life,” I said, giving him the same story I’d been telling anyone who asked.

  “That’s stupid. They’re disappointed over you being in Vermont? No one would ever feel that way. That’s not even normal. Then again, I forgot how abnormal the world was that you grew up in. So abnormal, I was barely allowed to participate in it.”

  Swallowing my pride, I shoved one hand in my pocket and stood my ground, which wasn’t easy with an angry, smoking-hot Ben looming over me.

  “Is that what this is about?” I said. “Pressman? And you and me? Seriously, we’re all grown up now.” How I’d treated him still haunted me, so he had to remember what a little bitch I’d been.

  “That has to be a joke.” He glared at me. “Who cares about Pressman? This is about you being here, now. Vermont is a modern-day state, I’ll have you know. Right here, where I’m standing, is an everyday city. It may not have the glitz and glamour of New York City, but it’s home. We even have running water.”

  Agitated, he ran his hand through his hair, and I took all of him in. It was unsettling how gorgeous he was, how smart and extremely wise. My mind rambled. It’s crazy how he sees through my excuses.

  “Whatever,” I said with a shrug. “I’m here and I’m trying, okay? I’m not mocking anyone, and I happen to like it here. This place is speaking to my soul. Think of this as a rebirth.”

  Ben scowled at me. “You’re joking.”

  Pulling my hand out of my pocket, I mentally chastised myself for nervously wringing my hands. “I. Am. Not. Joking. I’m here to buy some things for my apartment,” I said, defending my right to be at the farmers’ market. Which was absurd.

  Ben’s stiff posture seemed to relax. “If so, did you hit up my family’s booth? Get your syrup fix yet?”

  I shook my head. “No, I just got here. I was talking to Hunnie, taking care of that first.”

  “Come on. I came to see if my mom was here. I need to drop off a prescription from a colleague for her migraines.” He took my hand again, this time less roughly but still firmly. This Ben—adult Ben—was in charge.

  All of a sudden, I wanted to cut and run. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m wearing white shorts, and Hunnie says that’s a bad thing around here.” I scanned around us, desperately looking for someone else daring to wear white.

  “Who is Hunnie, the fashion police? Last time I checked, she ran a hippie-dippie honey-infusion bullshit business and wants to do goat yoga on the side, taking my dad along for the ride.” Ben spoke while taking two or three big strides and then stopped to look at me again. His gaze burned through me, searching for the truth.

  “Goat yoga? She didn’t mention that, but it would make for amazing publicity.” A million images spun through my head, mostly of Hunnie in her braids, leaning over and kissing a goat.

  “It doesn’t matter what Hunnie mentioned,” Ben said. “I know how her head works. She’ll jump from one crazy thing to another. She’s another one who’s never happy with the status quo and has to constantly be trying out something new. Not that it’s bad, but my family has a good thing going on here, and it doesn’t need to change.”

  “Do you have a thing with her?” I asked. “Is that why you’re making fun of her? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk so poorly about someone, Ben Rooney. Other than me.” My mouth snapped shut as soon as I heard the words spilling out of me.

  “Hunnie?” Ben gave me a confused look. “Uh, no. We grew up together. You know, like splashing in t
he kiddie pool naked kind of way. I most definitely do not have a thing for her, and I wasn’t being mean. I was just saying she’s not the fashion authority, telling you what you can and can’t wear to the farmers’ market. And no, I won’t support her petting zoo with my dad. He has enough on his hands. I help when I can, and I’m not shoveling goat shit.”

  Ben ignored the comment about me, obviously refusing to admit to liking me back in the day. Of course, I was too stuck up to realize it then.

  “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be at work?” I asked.

  My attitude seemed to have a mind of its own when it came to Ben. Gone were my manners, and I was left with only snark and sass. Embarrassed and needing something to do, I shoved a strand of hair behind my ear and caught my fingernail on my hoop earring like a clumsy idiot.

  “Ouch,” I muttered, trying to get my finger loose without tearing my earlobe.

  “Here.” Ben reached over with his gentle surgeon hands and freed my nail. “There you go,” he said, his voice the perfect combination of softness and gruff. Happy-go-lucky Ben was back.

  “Now, let’s go see my mom.” Grabbing my elbow, he started walking again, giving me no choice in the matter.

  “By the way, what kind of doctor are you?” I asked, trying to keep up with his pace.

  “Orthopedic surgeon. All the skiing is good business for me up here. Knees, hips, broken legs. Summer is a windfall of biking incidents. Kind of funny, all things I don’t have much time to do myself.”

  “Oh.” I had to stop saying oh. My mom’s voice rang in my head, chastising me for one-word answers. She’d told me a million times that one-word answers didn’t make me sound interesting. “I’m sure it’s more than that. It always was with you. Nothing was as it seemed on the surface. You always tried too hard to come off as on the surface, but you were way deeper.”

  Glancing at me, he grumbled, “Something like that, for sure.”

  5

  Ben

  What am I doing, taking Murphy to meet my mom?

  “Speaking of deep,” I said, searching for the words. “Murphy isn’t an everyday name like Sarah or Rebecca.”

  “So? It’s my name and I can’t change it. Being here is change enough. I’m doing the best I can.” Murphy stopped short, planting her feet, her green eyes blazing. If possible, they were even greener in the sunlight than her blouse.

  “Roll with me here. My mom is smart—she’s going to put two and two together when I introduce you. She’s going to remember we went to prom. She’s going to ask about where you’ve been all these years, and while I don’t like to use Google, my mom is a sleuth without it.”

  This got Murphy’s attention, and not in a good way, judging by her squinty eyes and the crease in her brow.

  “She’ll want to know whether we’ve reunited,” I said to distract her.

  Murphy twisted her hands together, looking desperate to run away. “Reunited? We were never together.”

  “It’s no secret I liked you, Murph. Come on, you’re smarter than that. We’re all grown up now, but my mom still thinks of me as the baby. She’s going to press deep, and she isn’t going to give up until she gets the answers she’s searching for, like a bloodhound chasing a scent.”

  Finally addressing the elephant in the room—or the field or whatever—I left it out there. It was high time we discussed the unrequited crush I had on Murphy all those years ago, and her complete and total rejection of me. I had a hard time believing she was the only one who didn’t know my feelings for her ran deeper than as friends.

  Looking up at the sky as a dark rain cloud passed over, Murphy was quiet, deep in thought, looking like my never-ending crush was news to her. “I don’t have to go meet your mom. In fact, I need to get back to Hunnie before the rain comes. I really need that internship. You know, I can’t work in a coffee place forever. There’s nothing wrong with it, though. It’s a good place, run by great people, and I actually like it, but I have to do something with my degree, you know?”

  My hand grabbed hold of her shoulder of its own volition. “Why? Why do you need all that? Why do you act all clueless, like there isn’t something bigger going on here? Are you truly okay? Something’s going on with you, and I’m here if you need me.”

  Questions and declarations rolled off my tongue before I could stop myself. It was just like old times, my true feelings ignored or forgotten, and I was back to wanting to care for Murphy.

  “Like you said,” she said as she placed her small palm on my shoulder, mimicking my move, “we’re all grown up now. I’m a grown woman, Ben. I know we were friends, and maybe you wanted more for us back then. Maybe I did too, but it was more than I could give. More than I was allowed to give.”

  “According to who?” I demanded, challenging her.

  “I don’t even know. My parents, my so-called friends, all the social expectations I’d been raised to abide by. But it doesn’t matter now because I’ve been taking care of myself for a while. Maybe I’m still trying to figure life out, but I will.”

  “You don’t have to be that way. I can help you. We are old friends, like you said.”

  It wasn’t the time to delve into her bullshit about society’s expectations. Clearly, she was on some sort of soul-searching mission, and I tried not to feel happy to have found myself a part of it. But I was.

  Murphy shook her head. “You don’t owe me that. You helped me enough at Pressman, and I was never as grateful as I should have been. Look, I get it. I didn’t reciprocate when it came to anything with you, and for that I’m sorry.” The wind picked up, lifting strands of her coppery hair. “Go see your mom. I’m going to talk to Hunnie. See you at the Bean.”

  The heat of her hand on my shoulder, singeing my skin through my shirt, quickly faded as she turned and walked away, leaving me confused.

  With rain coming quickly, I didn’t have time to dwell on what Murphy’s end game was. Or mine. I had enough to deal with when it came to work, Vermont, my family, and my life. Murphy was definitely a complication I didn’t need right now.

  As I hurried over to my family’s booth, I decided to quickly give my mom her migraine medicine and get out of there before the real storm—the one that Murphy’s presence here seemed to put into motion—rolled in.

  Thankfully, my mom was slammed with customers at her booth and didn’t have time to draw me into a long chat. Relief swept over me at Murphy bowing out of meeting my mom. If she hadn’t, Mom would have dug in, sinking her teeth into this discovery.

  Oh, you’re Murphy, the girl he pined over every single summer and winter break.

  I wasn’t sure what came over me to even consider taking Murphy to our booth. That’s what she did to me—she made me forget all common sense.

  My dad told me when I left for school, “Get a good education, son. Do something with it. Be better than me, but don’t become one of them. The rich people. They may have money and all the fancy things, but they don’t have happiness. Watch and you’ll see.”

  When I first arrived at Pressman, I thought he was wrong, but a few months in, I noticed most of my classmates were indeed not happy, no matter how much credit they had on their American Express card. I could barely afford a hamburger and fries with a shake on the rare occasion Murphy and I sneaked out together, but when I thought about my family, I smiled. Thinking of home, and the good times we had, always made me long to ditch Pressman, go back home, and just be happy.

  Then again, I wouldn’t be where I was today had it not been for Pressman.

  Which was why I felt so compelled to help Branson. My nephew didn’t have a dad to advise him or show him shit. Sometimes I worried he wasn’t happy or content. Maybe he was holding all his true feelings inside?

  These were the type of thoughts that plagued me, which was why when my mom was busy, I decided to head over to Colebury and surprise him. Maybe he’d want to come spend the night with me, order in a pizza and watch baseball together.

  Deep in thought as I dro
ve, I almost missed the compact hunk-of-junk car parked at the curb in front of a duplex with a woman pacing next to it. Who the hell drove something like that in Vermont?

  “Shit,” I mumbled, unable to drive by, the doctor inside me needing to make sure everyone was okay.

  Pulling up in front of the older Toyota coupe, I shook my head. It was hardly the kind of car anyone would want during a Vermont rainstorm like this one, let alone in the winter.

  I jumped out of my Jeep into the rain and was approaching the woman when I registered the flash of red hair. Murphy?

  She hadn’t even noticed my car pulling up. She continued to pace, occasionally stomping her foot as she muttered to herself. I couldn’t imagine what could be that bad or distracting.

  Not wanting to scare her, I cleared my throat to get her attention. Murphy finally looked up, startled, but her expression was fierce. Rain pelted down on her already sopping-wet clothes and began soaking through mine.

  Glaring at me, she waved me off. “Ben, go away.”

  “I can’t do that,” I said as I walked a step or two closer. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just wanted to stand out here in the pouring rain, in my white shorts, and get drenched.” She spoke through gritted teeth, flailing her wet noodle of a sun hat in her hand. “It seemed like something super fun to do on a Saturday night. Now, seriously, just go because I’m getting soaked and the fun has worn off.”

  “Are you serious? I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on. You show up out of the blue in Colebury, working at the Bean, and now you’re standing outside this run-down duplex getting rained on.”

  At my words, her eyes caught fire, their bright emerald green a contrast to the rainy gray sky. “I’ll have you know this run-down duplex is where I live. I told you it’s not much, remember?”