by Lake, C. J.
Chapter Thirty-nine
“We should wake Tray up.”
Bardo and Pellican had arrived at Matt’s to find Tragan passed out cold on the couch.
Doubtfully, Matt shook his head at Bardo’s suggestion. “He drank me out of tequila last night. He’s not waking up for awhile, trust me.”
All three looked at their friend sprawled out on Matt’s sofa. The full length of his body didn’t quite fit so his legs were falling off the edge. His clothes looked disheveled and his jaw was darkened by a three-day beard.
“Man…” Bardo said, studying Tragan with sympathy. “Did he ever tell you what happened with him and Andy?”
“Nope,” Matt replied honestly. “He doesn’t want to talk about it.”
“I can’t believe they broke up,” Bardo went on. “They seemed happy.”
“Nah, we should’ve seen this coming,” Pellican jumped in. “She had him by the balls the whole time. You could tell. Now look at him--he looks pathetic.” For his best friend’s sake, Matt wished he could argue with that, but he didn’t even bother trying.
“We should move him to the bedroom,” Bardo suggested. “You know, put him on the bed. Put some covers on him, make him comfortable.”
Skeptically, Pellican curled his lip. “Dude, that sounds really gay.”
“No, it’s not,” Bardo argued. “Not if we all do it together--and no one enjoys it.”
Matt and Pellican nodded.
“All right.”
“Agreed.”
Soon the three of them hefted Tragan off Matt’s sofa. Matt and Pellican took him by the underarms and Bardo held him by the ankles as they carried him to the bedroom. When they dropped him onto the mattress, Tragan barely even stirred--just shoved his scruffy face into the pillow with an incoherent grumble. Haphazardly, Bardo tossed the afghan over him and Matt shut off the light. “I guess that’s all we can do,” Bardo said, following Matt to the door.
With a click of his tongue, Pellican muttered, “Poor bastard,” before also exiting the room.
~
“Are you sure you want to go by yourself? If you just wait a couple more days I could go with you,” Kathryn said, handing Andy her passport.
“Thanks, I thought that was here. No, it’s fine, Mom, really,” Andy said, her voice flat and devoid of emotion, even to her own ears. Over the past several days, she’d become numb yet self-aware about it. “I just want to get there and get situated.” And get the hell out of this city, she thought, sticking the passport in her purse.
Then, with effort, she forced an agreeable smile, not wanting her mom to know the extent of her bitterness. If her mother saw how truly heartbroken she still was over Tragan, she’d never let her get on that plane alone. At least she wouldn’t make it easy for her. Sure, Andy supposed she could wait until next week to fly out, but why bother? Staying around Boston wasn’t doing her mood any good.
Now, with a shuddering breath, she composed herself. A fresh start, a new phase. And whatever other things people in her position had to tell themselves. Just then her mother broke her train of thought by handing her a small framed photo of Jake and Ben. “Here, you should also take this with you.”
“Oh, definitely,” Andy agreed, smiling in spite of herself. She ran a finger over the glass. “I love this one.”
“Perhaps, uh, you can explain things to Brad…work things out.” Kathryn spoke quietly and with clear trepidation, as though she knew she was tiptoeing on a landmine. Like a typical mother, she couldn’t seem to help herself.
Now Andy’s eyes burned with anger. “You did not just say that.”
Kathryn swallowed, looking uncomfortable. “Sorry. Just a thought.” Andy glared at her for another moment, before sticking the picture frame in her bag. “You did tell me once that he made you feel safe,” Kathryn added carefully, still having the audacity to discuss Brad. “Feeling safe with someone is very important, Andy.”
“That was a long time ago. And fine, I felt ‘safe’ in the sense that I knew Brad was out there. Like a safety net, when I got scared about the future. But it was just an illusion--apparently everything is an illusion,” she muttered more to herself. “So who really cares?”
“Are you talking about Brad?”
“No! I’m talking about Tragan!” Andy nearly yelled, exasperated and upset. In fact, just saying his name out loud sprung a well inside her and she sniffed. “He’s the one I’m in love with; he’s the one who made me feel safe and happy. With Tragan it was different.” She sat down on the settee in her mother’s living room and rubbed her nose, which was burning with emotion now, as two tears spilled over her eyes. “When I had Tragan, I felt like life was literally perfect. Like no matter what happened--even if the Bronsteg started up again--it would never be stronger than us.” She knew how sappy and Hallmarky that sounded, but it was the genuine truth, which her mother could accept or not.
“Forget it,” Andy said with another sniff, quickly wiping her hands across her cheeks. “I don’t want to talk about it. And I definitely don’t want to talk about it with you--the president of the Brad fan club. You’re probably happy that Tragan stomped my heart into the dirt!”
With a barely audible gasp, Kathryn pressed a hand to her chest. Then she sat beside Andy. “Please don’t say that. Please don’t leave angry with me,” she implored, suddenly teary herself.
“I’m not,” Andy replied with a defeated sigh, and softened her tone. “I just can’t talk about this, that’s all.”
“All I want is for my girls to be happy--that’s it,” Kathryn insisted, her voice uncharacteristically thick with emotion. “Everything I’ve done has been to that end.” It seemed like a strange comment, but Andy didn’t stop to analyze it. Instead she leaned over and hugged her.
“I know, Mom.” With maternal warmth, Kathryn hugged her close. “I appreciate everything, I swear. I love you,” Andy added, never wanting her mother to doubt that, despite what a moody brat Andy had become lately.
“I love you, too. You and Emma are everything to me,” Kathryn said, still clutching her daughter. “You’re my treasure.”
~
That evening Andy was hanging out at Emma’s, watching a cartoon about crime-fighting puppies. Or rather, sitting in front of one with her mind wandering. The boys had picked the movie and were surprisingly quiet as it played. Emma was apparently using the reprieve from their hyperactivity to nap on the sofa. Suddenly Andy’s phone buzzed and she dug it out of the armchair cushion where it had fallen. When she saw it was a text from Tragan, her heart jumped.
It wasn’t the first time he’d reached out to her since their breakup, though for the most part, she’d been ignoring him. Still, her nerves raced as she clicked on the message.
Hi…how r u?
Really? she thought angrily, glowering at the phone as if it was the device’s fault. That was it? She supposed she’d secretly been holding out hope that he’d grovel and beg, in which case she might consider lifting her “ignore Tragan” rule. But apparently not. The guy was actually going to waste her time with small talk! Why? Was this how he soothed his conscience? With her thumb, she slid the message over to the garbage can icon.
Another text followed:Ethan said u r going to London.
Delete.
When’s ur flight?
Delete.
A few minutes later, he texted: PLS ANDY. Just let me know u r okay.
A sudden immature impulse tempted her to reply: Fuck you, asshole, rather than simply deleting his message. It was so unlike her to say something like that, Tragan would probably jerk his head back, stunned.
Admittedly, the idea was tempting. Unfortunately, such a response would only make her look like a wounded puppy over him. The guy had dumped her; she wasn’t about to boost his ego, on top of it. So, again she let her thumb do the talking. Delete.
Then she shut her phone off and laid it on the coffee table. A sad sigh passed across her lips, because she knew it in her bones: that was the
end.
Chapter Forty
When Matt walked into his place, he saw Tragan sitting on the couch with his phone in his hands. “Tray? You okay?”
“She hates me.” Looking disgusted, he tossed his cell aside. Carefully, Matt stepped closer. For days Tragan wouldn’t talk about Andy, other than to say that they broke up. “I’ve texted her a bunch of times just to make sure she’s all right, and she’s ignoring me,” Tragan mumbled.
Matt took a seat on the chair opposite him. “Why wouldn’t she be okay? So you broke up with her?” he clarified. (Honestly, he was surprised it wasn’t the other way around, by the sullen way Tragan had been acting).
Tragan nodded. After a long pause, he said, “Yeah. But only for now--only so she would try this study in London. It wasn’t meant to be forever.”
At first Matt said nothing, only furrowed his brow at what sounded like flawed logic. Then he admitted, “I don’t get it.”
In turn, Tragan recapped what happened with Andy and shared his overall plan, which, frankly, sounded doomed. “…so I figured I’d keep the lines of communication open between us, and that way, you know, I’d stay in her life. Then we’d get back to where we are,” he finished. Taking it all in, Matt slumped back in his chair and blew out a breath. “What? Just say it,” Tragan demanded, obviously not willing to wait for Matt to craft a diplomatic response.
“I’m sorry, buddy, but…that is fucked up.”
Aggravated, Tragan plowed a hand into his hair. “I know! It’s all blowing up in my face. She’s refusing to talk to me or even answer me. How will I ever get Andy back if she cuts me off cold?” With his elbow on his knee, he kept a tortured grip on his hair, as he grumbled, “Now she’s gonna go to London, and she’ll probably end up falling for some British guy--named Nigel or some shit--and that’ll be that.”
“All right, well, first off,” Matt began, sitting forward again. “How do you know she’s going to London if you haven’t talked to her?”
“Ethan sent me a text about it,” Tragan replied sourly. “What should I do? This is all a fucking disaster. I can’t lose Andy.” His tone was emphatic, as if he still had a choice in the matter. Matt didn’t want to be cruel and point out that he kind of already had lost her. Yet…
Coddling Tragan wouldn’t help him at a time like this. If he wanted his girl back, he needed to take action. So Matt decided to speak plainly, for his friend’s own good. “Tray, if you can’t lose her, why the hell did you break up with her?”
“I told you--”
“But that’s fucked up,” Matt reiterated.
His eyes cast downward, Tragan explained, “I thought I could go through with it in the short term. But then I couldn’t--I missed her too much.”
“Yeah, but if you let a girl go, she’s gone. There’s no breaking her heart ‘for now.’ That’s serious shit and, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but girls aren’t exactly the most forgiving people.”
Tragan didn’t bother arguing, but instead, sat up straighter--almost in an aggressive stance. He looked at Matt with determination. Everything in Tragan’s posture and expression seemed to say: Failure is not an option. “I’ve got to fix this.”
“Yeah, well, lame-ass text messages aren’t going to fix it,” Matt pointed out bluntly. “If you love Andy, you’d better stop her from going.”
“Even though--”
Swiftly, Matt cut off the question. “Tray, forget the study. I’m sure there’ll be other studies. This is about saving your relationship. And if you let her get on that plane, it’s done.”
~
“What time does Andy leave tomorrow?” Emma asked.
“She has a two o’clock flight,” Kathryn replied, tucking her phone between her shoulder and ear as she walked down the corridor at St. Catherine’s hospital. “I wish she’d wait until Monday so I could go with her. But obviously I can’t miss the League’s fundraiser on Saturday; I’m the chairwoman of the event.”
“I know, Mom. I’m sure Andy understands that.”
“She’s just insistent about going right away,” Kathryn expanded. “But I’ll join her in a few days and stay over there for about a week, helping her get settled and take her shopping.”
“By the way, I talked to Dad and he said he’ll fly over to see her soon, too.”
“Oh, good!” Kathryn said, relieved, as she turned the corner past the maternity ward and toward the elevators. “Your father can really spoil her and show her the town. This will be good for her; I’m so happy she reconsidered about the research study. You know, she has to try everything she can,” Kathryn insisted, more thinking aloud than trying to persuade Emma on the point. “Between Ethan being there, and your father and I visiting, Andy will feel at home over there in no time.”
“Hey, I don’t want her to feel too at home,” Emma protested. “I want her to come back!”
“Well, of course.”
“Where are you now? I hear chiming noises in the background.”
“St. Catherine’s. I have an appointment with the florist in the third floor meeting room. That’s where we’re holding the auction,” Kathryn said, referring to the annual Ladies’ League fundraiser. “I wanted to give you a quick call, though, and let you know that I might be a little late tonight. I’ll be over closer to seven than six.”
“Sure, that’s fine,” Emma agreed. “Game night with Grandma is all Jake’s been talking about.”
As she released a displeased sigh, Kathryn reminded her, “I thought we agreed on ‘Mimi’, not ‘Grandma.’”
“I know, sorry! Jake’s still stuck on ‘grandma.’ I’ll work on him.”
There was a brief blip on the line. “Emma? Are you still there?”
“That’s weird. Tragan’s calling me.”
Kathryn froze in her tracks, her hand poised on the door handle to the meeting room. “Tragan? Why on earth would he call you?”
“I don’t know. Hang on, I’ll find out--”
“No wait!” Kathryn yelped, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. “Don’t answer it!”
“But what if it’s about Andy?” Emma said, concerned.
“No, he broke up with Andy. They’re finished. There’s no reason for him to be calling us,” Kathryn insisted, becoming distressed.
“Well, he’s not calling us,” Emma said dryly.
“I’m serious, Emma. I don’t want him in contact with Andy--especially when she’s about to board a plane tomorrow!” Nervously, Kathryn’s heart began to flutter.
“Mom, calm down--”
“He did the right thing by letting her go. Now, dear God, if he tries to ensnare her again…” Kathryn warned.
“He did the right thing?” Emma echoed incredulously. “Breaking Andy’s heart? Making her cry for a week?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I really don’t. Maybe now he’s trying to make amends or at least apologize,” Emma added hopefully. “Though I’m not sure why he’d bother contacting me.”
“No, no, I don’t want that!” Kathryn said firmly. “I thought he understood. If he cares about Andy at all--oh, for heaven’s sake, I made that perfectly clear.”
There was a meaningful pause before Emma said, “Mom…what did you do?”
Kathryn tried to cover quickly. “What? Nothing.”
“Did you say something to him?”
“What do you mean? Don’t start blaming me for their breakup,” Kathryn said, evading the question.
Apparently the evasion was less than successful because Emma pressed on, “Did you have anything to do with it? What did you say to him?”
“It was all for the best anyway, Emma. With a new boyfriend in the picture, Andy would never agree to go to London.”
At that, Emma groaned disapprovingly, and then apparently saw fit to chastise her mother. “Mom…Andy’s so sad now, how could you interfere like that?”
Determined to remain composed, Kathryn tried to absorb her mounting frustration. Why coul
dn’t Emma of all people understand? She was a mother herself, after all. Wouldn’t she look out for her sons’ best interests, no matter how hard it was sometimes? Even if doing so precluded instant gratification? That’s what parenting was. “Don’t lecture me, Emma,” she said coolly, not prepared to battle her elder daughter on this subject. “Not that I have to justify myself to you, but I merely pointed out to Tragan that if he truly cared about Andy’s well-being, he should let her go temporarily.”
“Temporarily?” Emma interrupted, sounding cynical when she repeated the word.
“He obviously agreed with me,” Kathryn stated. “Please, Andy staying in Boston for this construction worker would be a disaster. Now, maybe if she was still with Brad…”
“Oh, not that again. I thought you’d dropped that,” Emma said, annoyed.
Kathryn shot her eyes to the ceiling; she was severely tired of defending herself. “All I’m saying is that Brad would have gotten Andy to go. As a doctor, he would make sure that she pursued every possible option.”
“Yeah, well, Andy can’t stay in a relationship for the free medical advice. Can’t you see how much happier she was with Tragan than she was with Brad?”
A prickling swirl of guilt tormented Kathryn’s chest. She knew she had to get off the phone; she couldn’t bear to talk about this anymore. “Fine, I’m done discussing it,” she said. “I’ll see you and the boys around seven.”
It wasn’t until she disconnected that Kathryn realized she was trembling slightly. The conversation with Emma had unnerved her terribly. Seeing Andy upset over Tragan didn’t bring Kathryn any joy, but now…
It seemed like an oppressive cloud of guilt was hovering over her head, haunting her.
Steeling her resolve, Kathryn straightened her posture a bit and tried to redirect her thoughts. She just had to trust her own judgment and push forward. Trite as that sounded, what else could a mother do?
Now she stepped inside the meeting room, finding it empty except for the long banquet tables that had been pushed out along the periphery, and a five-tiered silver serving cart that had presumably been left from the last gathering here. Good, the florist hadn’t arrived yet. Kathryn would have time to go to the vending machine just around the corner. As inevitably flavorless as instant coffee was, right now it might help settle her nerves.