by CJ Hawk
I picked up my phone and put in the text before I could change my mind. Besides, Mason might want an out in this relationship any ways. This text will give it to him. I simply typed in: Need some space, let's give this thing a rest for a bit.
I hit the send button with much trepidation that I was making a mistake. I did not want a breakup, but perhaps a break from any family meddling. Deep down, what I truly wanted was for him to rush over here and confess his undying love for me, wrap me in his arms and show me tenderness for the drama that we just endured. Somehow, I did not see that happening. Watching too many romance movies always put a damper on what really happened in these situations, at least that was what my grown-up side of my brain was saying to me.
I grabbed my ereader off my charger, locked up my apartment for the night by putting the safety chain in place, and headed to my room. I was still full from my cupcake mixed with the pity party drama that had my stomach on the edge, so I settled for a hot tea and my fluffy land of twenty or so pillows on my bed and settled in for a good read.
Sometime around ten p.m., I drifted off to sleep, only to be woken up to my phone buzzing with a text. It was Mason. He was outside my door and wanted in. I didn't move. I froze. I wanted to rush to the door and let him in, but instead my body laid there weak from all the chaotic emotions that had boiled in my head all night. Then my phone lit up with him calling. I had the ringer on silent, but the vibration caused my phone to move about on my nightstand. Then I saw it stopped, and it was as if I had been holding my breath. I picked up my phone and held it, debating whether or not to call him back. I finally settled on checking the voice mail he left me.
As I listened, I ached for his arms to surround me. "Amber. Please call me. We need to talk. I want to apologize for my father's actions, hell, my actions. Listen. We don't need a break, but if you want one, I understand. Call me, okay?"
I was torn. I wanted to call him back so badly, yet I knew the type of man he was; he might actually want the break and just want me to think it was my idea. Wait. It was my idea. But did he want the break and was just making it sound as if he was honoring my decision? I was falling deeper into a crevice of indecision. Calling him now would only make me doubt it more later.
I fell asleep with my phone in my hand out of exhaustion from mental thinking around midnight. I never called back. I wanted to, badly. Somehow, playing hard to get or not playing at all seemed like the more mature thing to do. I wanted him to think that I was putting serious thought into all this, and I was, but I also wanted him to feel bad that I did not call back, which was immature. I was on the fence about how I was dealing with this, yet I knew seeing him or talking to him right now did me no good. I think? I fell asleep with those questioning thoughts rolling back and forth in my brain.
When I woke the next morning, I had to trudge through getting ready. By the time I was three blocks from my apartment, my car died. It made a gagging sound and sputtered, then nothing. Dead. It would not start or move. I was in the midst of morning rush hour on a major side street, and some not too happy co-drivers were honking at me. As I got out of my car, put my hood up as a signal that my car was down, a woman in her fifties pulled over and parked in a metered parking spot, right next to where I was stalled. In her navy work dress and three-inch heels, she offered to steer my car off the main street to a parking spot empty ahead of me while I pushed. I thanked her profusely as we worked together to get my car moved out of the way. She jumped back in her car after wishing me a better day, and I waved her on with a smile as I watched her merge back into traffic an inch at a time.
It could have been worse. I could have been on the highway or further from my apartment. I texted Wally Woo that I needed a vacation day because my car died on the way to work. Then I sent a second text to make it seem as if I was being productive: 'I am going to work on my college courses.' He sent me an 'ok' back.
I grabbed my purse; tossed in enough coins in the meter for two hours, and hoped like heck my plan to get my dad to come have my car towed would work. I locked up my dead car, not that anyone would steal it; it wasn't worth stealing, or that this was a bad end of town. Even so, there were bums known to take a nap in unlocked cars around here. I trudge the block and half away from my apartment to the bakery. Not a healthy sign that I was visiting here again this week, Marion's cupcake trip was just yesterday. However, I was in dire need of a blueberry muffin and large hot coffee, flavored with lots of creamer to help me walk back to my apartment. By the time I made it home, both were gone, and I figured I would call my dad and let him handle the dead car situation for me. If there was one thing that made him happy, it was to come to my rescue. I never let him deal with my man drama, but my dead car or late bill drama; he was first on my list.
I closed my apartment door, just as I hung up with my dad on my cell phone. I set my purse on my table next to the door and stood there shocked and dismayed by what I saw.
There, in Mason's apartment, across the alleyway from me and in plain sight, was a naked, except for a towel, Mason. His back was to me. However, that did not shock me. What did, was the naked blonde bimbo with big boobs, naked - did I mention that, standing in front of him, with her naked boobs facing towards my apartment. I watched her move in on my man. I watched her arms wrap around his neck, and his hands come up. I could not watch anymore. He must have thought I was at work, and it was safe to play with woman number two. I turned and stormed into my room, tossing pillows at my door and practically growling with a scream.
When I finally lost steam from picking up and throwing my twenty or so decorative pillows about ten times, I grabbed an extra dark-blue bed sheet out of my closet. I went to the kitchen and found my silver duct tape. I walked right over to my window with the bench seat that faced his place, tossed the cushion he got me onto the floor, and I put that sheet up over the window. I did look though. There was no naked Mason, or naked big boob woman standing there. I didn't care. What I did care about was the fact that I was officially over playboy Mason Montahue, I'm not good enough for you.
Chapter Eleven
"Sitting around eating all the blue peanut M&M's out of that two pounder bag of M&Ms you got there is not going to solve any of your problems." My Aunt Heather, recently back from the Bahamas, tanned and heavy blonde streaks that have taken over her brown hair, took the bag of M&Ms out of my hand and walked over to the trash can, hit her foot on the pedal that raised the lid, and dumped the rest of the M&M's in, bag and all.
"What the hey? I was going to eat all the yellow next." I stammered while cuddling deeper into my couch as I hit the mute on the movie I was watching. I tossed a glare at my Aunt Heather that could evaporate a bad politician from thin air for misconduct.
As my aunt stood there, freshly tanned from the Bahamas, some curl to her long mostly blonde but born a brunette hair and striking a motherly poise in an outfit that wasn't motherly, she decided to scold me in tone. "Listen. You will thank me later. Think of all the hours on the elliptical it would take to burn those off. Not to mention, if you were my age, and once you turn forty, the metabolism turns off. Best to start now on better habits." She smiled as she grabbed the red handled straps of the white trash bag, pulled it up out of the trash can, tied the red handles in a triple knot, and then put a fresh bag in my trash. Like taking out my trash would make it any better.
"I'm only doing this because I love you. That, and the fact that if I didn't take this out to the dumpster on my way out, you would have pulled it out of the trash and started on the yellows."
My aunt knew me all too well. However, I knew I would want to run right out and buy another bag. The only thing stopping me was that I was in desperate need of a shower, and my hairy legs could out hair Sasquatch.
It had been three days since I saw Mason, and work thought I had the flu. Right after the bimbo sighting in Mason's bedroom, Wally Woo spent an hour listening to me cry and babble then told me I had not called in a sick day in over six months, vacation days excl
uded, and he would put me down for the flu if I promised to get all caught up later this week on paperwork. This was not part of my grow up and act mature now that you are thirty plan, not to mention Mason had quit trying to reach me by text or phone as I had not returned one single text or message.
Then as I watched my aunt set the bag of trash by my door, I knew I would not be dumpster diving in my own kitchen trash can. However, I would take a shower and visit the local gas-n-go. "By the way." She chimed in as she pointed to the dark sheets I had duct taped up on my big window that looked directly into my neighbor, slash super, slash heartthrob gone awry. "What gives?"
"He gives. He turns on the heat like a burning fire and then takes me to meet his family, where I am not grown up enough, or educated enough, for his father. Then he tries to soothe it over after he has gone back to his family, after he took me home because I did not want to spend another minute with his family Sunday brunch being judged. I decided I wanted to slow things down. Then, work is giving me college classes to shut mom up. Then I come home from a broken-down car on Monday morning's rush hour to witness that he's got more than one candy in his trick or treat bag, if you know what I mean. I happened to have seen him kissing some stupid blonde woman, no offense, but you are not a natural; you choose to be blonde, and you are not stupid either. So, this hot looking chick is kissing him, and I was stuck staring at them thinking, well shit. By the way, how was the Bahamas and why didn't you take me as a birthday gift bee-ouch?" Everything I just rambled out in incomplete, nonfunctioning sentences, hopefully made sense to my aunt who had no idea what had happened in my life in the last week and half, other than she caught Intel on my birthday fiasco at the restaurant and I was dating some famous guy.
My aunt's laughter filled the room, and she answered with a simple tone. "I see. Bahamas rocked, and it's hard to take you when I'm taking a man." She winked at me with a vivacious smile, and went over to stand up on the window seat, yanked all the duct tape down, and then tossed the sheet on the floor.
I covered my eyes and squinted from the sunlight that flooded the room and growled. "What the hey?" My head went under my blanket.
"Stop sulking." She sounded motherly. "Crying and grieving over a man is one thing. Hiding away and stuffing M&M's down your throat like it's no tomorrow is another. No guy is worth it, even if you're married." Then she climbed down, tossed the duct tape in the new trash bag she put in my kitchen trash can for me.
I peeked out of my blanket and glared. "That's easy for you to say. You've had three husbands." I caught the hurt look that immediately crossed her face, and I felt bad. It wasn't her fault that she had bad choices in men.
"And honey, not a single one of them was the charm. I'm going for number four. He's looking prospectively handsome. However, I need to borrow your new tan cowgirl boots you bragged about buying on Facebook for a fraction of their value. It's not really smart to post your shopping award picture of shoes and great prices where your broke aunt can see. It only makes me find a reason to borrow them." She smiled at me as she bent down to pick up the bench cushion off the floor and set it on the window bench.
I caught myself peeking towards his window to see if he was there, but he wasn't. "Well. Gee. I thought you came to see me because you love me." I grumbled.
"I do love you. That is why I am here, hauling your happy ass off to the shower, and telling you that no man is worth it. The boots is just an excuse to wear on this date with my new cowboy. I met him at the gym." Her eyes twinkled.
"Real cowboy or wanna be a cowboy?" I teased. I got up from under my blanket, threw it off to the side and clicked the TV off with the remote. I had on the same sleep shirt I had on twenty-four hours ago; only a lot of food smears and tearstains that made it look as if I had run it through a sink disposal cycle.
"Darling. He's real. Like wear the wranglers with a strain real. Like dually truck and cowboy hat real. Like works on a ranch and likes to get dirty in the barn real."
"Then what the heck is he doing at the gym, picking up women?" I started for my room, and she followed behind. I might as well get her the boots, because I had no intention of wearing them anytime soon.
I pointed to my closet and then headed to my bathroom as my aunt went on about how they met the first time when she was called out for a sick horse. My aunt is a large animal veterinarian who works on contract for the zoo. "See, he manages a ranch. I got a call from their regular vet to take a replacement call. I usually don't go to places like this. Any ways, I happen to mention to him about the cruise and getting in shape in a month. This was over a month ago. I didn't tell you because, well, it was just bad luck to talk about a man until things are a bit more under way." I laughed internally at the fact that my aunt and I shared the gift of gab, the brook of babble; we talked a lot and talked in circles. I thought of how I had been babbling about Mason and wondered if that is why the relationship was cursed.
My aunt kept right on talking while my brain went right on thinking. "So one day, he shows up at my gym. Not like he doesn't get enough of a workout at the ranch. I was sure he was there to see me as he had called my office three times looking for me and asked my secretary what time I go to the gym. We went out for a drink, next thing I know; I've got him sharing a cabin with me on this cruise four weeks later. Sorry I missed your birthday family party. He was worth the miss." Then she winked at me. "If you know what I mean."
I did. And what sucks, is I knew what if felt like to fall hard and fast for a man and then have things come to a complete halt. If only I had taken him into my room to change that morning, we would never have made it to his family brunch. Things would be far different right now.
"See here's the deal..." I started out and within fifteen minutes, my aunt got the short of what was going on with Mason, my new boyfriend, and I told her everything in hopefully a somewhat descriptive easy to follow story about the last week and half of my life.
"Wow!" There was a huge expression packed into that single word as she stood up from sitting next to me on my bed. She reached over hugged me and smiled. "Where's the boots? And don't worry, you always bounce back better than ever. I have faith."
I pointed to my closet and let out a huge puff of air hoping she was right on this one. She never judged me when I made a mistake or told me I told you so. She just listened and told me to get back on my two feet, preferably in cute shoes, and get on with my life. However, that did not feel right this time. I still ached to be in Mason's arms again.
I watched her grab the boots out of the box and holler over her shoulder as she started to walk out of my room. "Take a shower. Get back to work and that silly now that I am thirty plan. I'd tell you to burn it, but you my love, are so into lists and planning that I know you can't do it any other way. You need to get on with life. I'll call you this weekend."
As I heard my apartment door close, I figured that I would not get my boots back until I went to her place and got them back. I also figured; my aunt was right. I needed to get on with things.
When I got out of the shower, there was a text on my cell from my aunt. It simply read: Show him what he's missing out on and find that other fish in the sea. There are plenty.
Well, at least to my aunt there was. She was not very particular about the men she dated. If they had muscles, testosterone and nice eyes, she was sold. I was a bit more particular about my men.
Or was I? Come to think of it, Mason was the first man who was from any type of 'breeding stock' as my mom would call it. Usually, I just went for the muscles and testosterone and a pulse. It didn't even matter if the eyes made my heart go pitter-patter. However, Mason's eyes did. They made me want to stare into them and swoon, which I had done the entire week we were together.
Just then a knock at my door, startled me. I wondered who it could be. I went over, peeked through the peephole, and jumped back, causing my towel to fall down. I wasn't only naked in the physical sense, but I felt naked in the mental sense. Behind my door was the one man w
ho had made me think everything would be all right, and then he dumped me.
"Just a minute." I hollered out. I ran into my room and threw on a pair of jeans commando, a black bra and black tee shirt. I ran a comb through my hair and took two seconds to put on mascara and raspberry colored lip-gloss. When I ran back towards the apartment door, I didn't have to open it. He used his superintendent key to open it himself. He was leaning against my closed door with a sexy smile and sneaky look to his eyes.
"I guess I should have used the deadbolt." I joked, partially happy he was there. Actually ecstatic, but then the memory of the naked blonde woman in his place flooded back to me like a bad dream.
"I can get it open with that on." He took a step forward with the same look I felt until my memory came back. He had intentions, and they were sultry.
"I see. So how's blondie?" My tone could not have been any more snide or cold. I felt as if my bad girl side was pulling on one end of my rope screaming who cares about the naked blonde, while my sensible mature side was pulling harder, stronger, screaming at me 'you do you idiot; he cheated on you'. My internal mental contest was as confused as his face looked right now.
"Who?" His confused look did not stop him from taking another step closer.
I put my hand on my hip and cocked it sideways hard, tossed my head back and glared while I spoke out. "Unless that was a chicken you were choking with your tongue Monday morning, I'd say you decided to get a bit SERIOUS with some ditzy looking blonde. In your ROOM! Where I can SEE!" My voice shouted a few words, and my heart was pounding like a jackhammer, while my hands ached to touch him just one more time.
I watched an even more confused look cross his face while he seemed to be thinking hard, and then he shook his head sideways back and forth, and laughed lightly. "Oh that! That is a complete misunderstanding. You might actually find it funny." Then he went quiet while smiling at me like he always did right before he did things to me that made me very happy.