“My suitcase is in the hall, bro. Take it to the car? I'll be out in a minute.”
“Yeah, sure.” Eddie said, uncharacteristically doing what he was asked without protest. He hesitated for a moment as he reached the door. “Everything okay here?”
David nodded. “Wait outside for me.”
Even after Eddie left, we just stood and stared at one another for a long moment.
“Where do we go from here?” I asked, terrified of the answer.
“We're family. Nothing will ever change that.”
Thank God. My heart once more resumed at sinus rhythm until David began speaking again. “I do think I need a break for a while, though. I obviously need to get over this and I can't if we're calling and e-mailing every ten minutes. I need some time to get past this. Past you.”
I nodded. If I couldn't give David my heart, the least I could give him was the space he needed. But, before he left, my friend needed to know one thing. Just as he reached the door, I yelled out, “I do love you, David. You have to know that.”
He stopped in his tracks, then turned, hand up as if to ward off any further words from being spoken. Finally collecting himself, he smiled at me and asked, “Hey, Bennett, what was that Molly Ringwald movie you and Eddie used to watch all the time when we were growing up?”
“Sixteen Candles?” I answered, confused by the question.
“No. The other one. You know – with Andrew McCarthy.”
“Pretty in Pink.”
“That's the one. It's funny, but I always thought that movie ended wrong. I always thought Ducky was supposed to win the girl in the end.” David shrugged then opened the door. “Guess I was wrong.”
With that, David Thornton walked out of my life.
I waited until I was sure that the car was safely backed out of the driveway and halfway down the street before I slid down the wall and started a bout of hysterical crying I didn't think would ever stop.
August
“YOU'LL HAVE TO EXPLAIN TO ME just who this ‘Ducky’ fellow is.” Gloria said, eyeing me with concern as she sipped her tea.
Exhausted from the emotionally draining afternoon, and lacking the energy to discuss the issue further, I waved my hand at Livvie, silently asking her to respond.
“Jon Cryer played a guy named Ducky in the movie Pretty in Pink.” She began, facing Gloria from her lotus position on the floor. “It was one of those John Hughes movies that were big in the mid-eighties.”
“I don't think I've seen that one, dear. What does a movie have to do with David and Sarah?”
I dug my spoon into the pint of Chunky Monkey that had almost completely frozen a hole in my hand, and listened as Livvie tried to explain the plot of a brat-pack movie to a woman who hadn't been to the theater since John Wayne switched from war movies to westerns.
Livvie took a quick sip from her soda can, placing it next to her on the floor. “The no-frills version is this: Molly Ringwald plays our heroine Andie – plucky girl from the wrong side of the tracks who falls in love with rich boy Blaine played by Andrew McCarthy. On their road to happiness the couple runs into a number of stumbling blocks. The one that's relevant to us is that Andie's quirky but loyal friend Ducky is also in love with her.”
“Oh dear,” Gloria clucked her tongue. “I think I'm beginning to see the problem. What happens to Ducky?”
“After the requisite ninety-eight minutes of heartache and misunderstandings, Ducky gallantly stepped aside so Andie and Blaine can end up together.”
“They don't end up together,” I clarified. “They only ended up at the prom together.”
Livvie reached up to pat me on the leg. “It's a movie set in a high school sweetie. Going to the prom is the same as riding off into the sunset.”
Gloria nodded, taking in Livvie's shotgun synopsis. “Well, that certainly explains David's comment as he left the house.”
I nodded, not quite trusting my voice, and dug deeper into the pint of ice cream Livvie tossed to me when she walked into my living room half an hour ago. When Eddie sent out his distress calls to Livvie and Gloria, God love him for remembering to mention the need for junk food.
As much as I got annoyed with the youngest Thornton man on a regular basis, he always came through when I needed him. I assumed David told his brother about our confrontation – or at least provided the highlights – so that Eddie wasn't surprised to come home from the airport and find me still curled in a sobbing ball in the kitchen.
He hauled me up and out the door, deposited me in the passenger seat of the truck he was borrowing while in town and asked suspiciously few questions while throwing concerned glances my way as often as the traffic pattern would safely allow. On the way to my apartment he made two very brief calls on his cell phone – one to Livvie and one to Gloria – telling each to meet me at my apartment as soon as possible, and to stop for ice cream on the way.
After hanging up the second time, he looked at me with a face that was almost comically earnest. “Women really do eat junk food when they're depressed, right? It's not just an urban legend is it?”
I nodded my head and blinked my swollen eyes at him, somehow conveying that he had done exactly the right thing. The next ten minutes of the drive were spent with him pretending not to check on me, and me trying to get the last of my snuffles under control.
Eddie was still strangely quiet when he walked me up the back stairs and into my apartment, a trait I found disconcerting in my normally boisterous friend. I wondered whether his reluctance to ask questions was out of kindness toward my hyper-emotional state, or because he already knew the answers.
“Sit.” He ordered, pointing toward the couch as he fetched my box of Kleenex from the bathroom. He even brought back a wet facecloth for my blotched, tear-streaked face. Eddie wasn't one to take care of others very often, but when he did, he was remarkably good at it. I was feeling almost human by the time he brought me a cup of my favorite tea, sweetened just the way I liked with a teaspoon of sugar and splash of milk.
“What did David tell you?” I asked, needing to know whether Eddie was being kind of his own free will, or at the behest of his older brother.
Eddie picked up my comb from where he found it on the coffee table and began smoothing his hair into a ponytail holder fished from his side pocket. “Well, he mentioned that you two had a talk about your feelings for each other. He said you were pretty upset, and asked me to make sure you got home okay.”
“Whose idea was it to call Livvie and Gloria?”
Eddie cocked his head to the side, and gave me his best self-deprecating grin. “It was mine, actually. I decided to call in the cavalry.”
We sat quietly for another moment, Eddie rubbing small circles on my shoulder as I finished wiping the tears from my eyes. “How is he?”
Eddie paused for a moment before speaking. I knew him well enough to understand that he was taking a moment to phrase his words. He wanted to offer me reassurances, but was afraid of crossing the line by breaking his brother's sacred confidence. “Let's just say he was a little bruised, but not broken. He'll be okay.”
I shook my head, unable to believe the day's odd turn of events. I would have sworn I was closer to David Thornton than any other person on earth, and here I was checking in with his brother to make sure he was going to be okay. The worst part was the knowledge that if David wasn't okay, it was my own fault.
“Will you?”
Eddie's words broke into my thoughts, and I had to shake my head to clear them enough to ask, “Will I what?”
“Will you be okay?”
It was a good question. I had been asking it myself for about an hour.
“The only funny thing about this entire night is that I don't really have anything to be upset about.” I laughed, albeit a bit more high-pitched than usual. “An hour ago I had a great guy serve himself to me on a silver platter. I turned him away and hurt one of my best friends. I have no right to cry about it now.”
Eddi
e gave me a rueful smile as he reached over to pull the afghan off the back of my couch and cover me with it. “Don't even start with me about what you are supposed to want. Trust me when I tell you that most people – me included – usually don't want what they should.”
“You don't always want what you should. Is that the flip side to, ‘You can't always get what you want’?” I asked, sipping my tea, comforted by the weight of the blanket around me, even if it's warmth was a little much for an early August evening.
“But you get what you need.” Eddie smiled, glad to see I had begun talking, and my sniffles had calmed to merely intermittent.
“You and David both seem to be re-writing pop culture tonight.” I smiled, and repeated the Pretty in Pink reference.
“My poor, dumb, romantic brother.” Eddie groaned, then seeing my distress, tried to joke. “It's a lousy comparison, anyway. Ducky was always way cooler than David.”
“Did you have a secret crush on Jon Cryer?”
“Nah. I was always a James Spader man, myself. His character was a total closet case who wanted Andrew McCarthy for himself. It was so obvious.”
Hearing a car door slam in the street, Eddie rose to look out the window. “Livvie's here and it looks like she brought some Ben & Jerry's with her.”
“The good stuff. She must know it's going to be a bad night.”
My friend scooched in front of me until we were eye to eye. “Do you think it would be okay if I left now? I won't leave if you need me, but I think it would be kind of weird if I stay.”
I was ready for a little alone time with Livvie and Gloria. As dear as Eddie was, he was still a man and therefore clueless in so many ways. He was also David's brother. “You've done your duty. I understand that your loyalty is to David.”
“Hey.” Eddie tapped my nose with his finger. “My loyalty is to my family, and last I looked, you still qualified. Take care.”
He kissed me on the cheek and slipped out the front door of my apartment just as Livvie burst in the back door, which Eddie had thoughtfully left unlocked. She took one look at me and rushed over.
“What the hell happened? You look like shit.”
“Thanks.”
“Eddie told me to bring ice cream, so I assume Morgan broke your heart. Did he dump you?”
I laughed realizing that for the first time in a very long time, I had spent several hours without a single thought of Morgan. “Believe it or not, this has nothing to do with Morgan.”
Livvie sighed and went into the living room where she retrieved two spoons. “It's David, then?”
“How do you know it's about David?”
“Eddie told me to bring ice cream. Ice cream means heartache. If it's not about Morgan, it's got to be about David. Those are the only two men I know with the power to make you look like such crap.”
I shoved a good-sized portion of the sinful goodness into my mouth and mumbled, “You know, you can stop telling me how lousy I look any time now.”
She looked at me with concern. “So, what is going on?”
“Gloria's on her way. Let's wait a few minutes, because I can only get through this story once.”
So we waited, ate ice cream and steeped more tea. When Gloria finally arrived, I had evolved from emotional basket case to merely morbidly depressed. I relayed the events of the day, stopping to wipe away the occasional tears. Once Gloria understood who Ducky was, and the role Jon Cryer played in my own personal drama, I sat back and waited for their empathy and advice.
Livvie's comments were quick and to the point. “I hate to break it to you, Bennett, but you didn't do anything wrong.”
“I agree with Olivia,” Gloria concurred. “You were honest with David, and while you're clearly upset that you hurt his feelings, you had no other recourse.”
Somehow, I was hoping for something a little more prophetic from my friends. “Tell me why,” I demanded of them.
The two women glanced at one another, unsure of what I was asking. Livvie voiced the question on both their minds. “Why what?”
“Why didn't I have any other recourse? Why couldn't I tell David that I loved him, too?”
Again my friends looked perplexed, and Gloria asked, “You don't love David, do you?”
“No! Of course I don't! But why don't I?” I yelled, imploring my friends to furnish me with an answer. “David is everything I should want in a man. Am I so completely damaged that I can't reach out to a good thing when it's offered?”
“You are not damaged, Sarah, but I want you to brace yourself for a newsflash.” Livvie waited until I met her eyes before she continued. “You just don't love David. You told me yourself a few months ago.”
“If you love anyone at all right now, I think it might be Morgan,” Gloria finished.
“I love Morgan? Well that's just great. Let's not forget he told me he may not want a relationship and now that I'm a partner, he's technically my employee.” I pulled the afghan up to cover my face. “God – I am so messed up.”
“No more than anyone else trying to negotiate through the world today,” Gloria soothed, leaning over to pat me on the knee.
I took a deep breath, throwing my legs over the side of the couch. “Let's just look at this rationally for a minute.”
“Look at love rationally?” Livvie mocked. “Oh, yeah. That'll work.”
“David told me he was in love with me, and I let him walk away. He is one of the most important people in my life – he's sweet and kind, and makes me feel safe. What do I think I'm going to find – with Morgan or with anyone – that's better than what I already have with David?”
“David is a wonderful man, and I won't take that away from him,” Livvie responded, taking the ice cream from my hand and digging her spoon to the bottom. “The thing is, ‘safe’ is very nice and all, but the goal in the game of love is to find a man that makes your toes tingle. Don't even try telling me you feel the same spark with David that you feel when you're around Morgan.”
I ignored the question, not willing to divulge the answer. “You don't understand. David toddled into the hospital the day I was born. He's been there for every important moment in my life. He and Jeremy and Eddie are the only family I have. He's my rock.”
I turned to Gloria, hoping she might better understand what I was trying to say. “Isn't all of that more important than a few tingling toes?”
Gloria's kind, but condescending smile threw me. “Sarah, dear, if there is one thing I've learned during my many years on this Earth, it's that there is nothing in this world more important than tingling toes.”
I picked at the threads of my afghan, letting my friends' words seep in. I didn't love David, and it would have been cruel to let him think I did. “I did the right thing, didn't I?” I asked softly, still not looking up.
“You did the right thing,” Livvie reassured, moving to sit next to me on the couch.
“What am I going to do without David to talk to every day?” I asked, aiming the question at myself more than either woman beside me. “I never even had a chance to tell him about my promotion. Who do I go crying to when Morgan does dump me or Cory lures him away? Who am I going to call in the middle of the night when I get freaked out about life in general?”
I lifted my head in time to see a meaningful glance pass between my friends.
“Do you want to tell her or should I?” Gloria asked.
“I think it will sound better coming from you.”
Gloria took the challenge, reached over and grasped my hand. “Sarah, dear, without David around to lean on, you'll have to take care of yourself.”
“We'll still be here for the things you can't handle,” Livvie jumped in, trying to help. “But some of the things you relied on David for, you could always do yourself, anyway.”
That wasn't the answer I was looking for.
“I'm scared.”
Livvie nodded, not surprised at my confession. “I get scared every single day, Bennett. It's part of the initiation
rite to adulthood. Congratulations, you're now a grown-up.”
“Being a grown-up is hard.”
“Yes, it is, but you're not alone, Sarah,” Gloria said. “You always have your family, and I include David in that grouping. It's just that you need to allow him a little time on his own, during which you both will have the opportunity to grow.”
“Besides,” Livvie winked. “It's the hard that makes it great.”
I groaned. “Tom Hanks. A League of their Own. Can we please get through the rest of the night without any more movie references?”
Livvie threw a pillow my way, which started me on a giggling fit, then finally into full-fledged laughter. Granted, it was a little giddier than normal, but I was amazed to find that it was still there.
* * *
Four nights later I heard someone rap softly on the back door of my apartment. Knowing that door could be reached only from the diner, it could be only one person.
“Come on in,” I called. “It's open.”
“I thought I told you to keep the door locked when you're in here alone,” Uncle Jeremy admonished.
“I just unlocked it. I'm expecting Livvie to drop by with a movie later, and didn't want to have to stop what I was doing to rush to the door.”
He looked at the plate of whoopee pies I'd just finished making and sniffed appreciatively. “So, I suppose these are all for Livvie, then?”
“Help yourself.” I walked to the refrigerator and poured a large glass of milk. Turning away from my uncle gave me a moment to steady my nerves and my slightly trembling hands.
I had been on pins and needles waiting for Jeremy since my confrontation with David. I'd called Jeremy the next day to tell him about my promotion, but I'd steered the conversation clear of his sons and had successfully avoided a face-to-face meeting until now.
“These are very good, kiddo. We should put them on the menu downstairs.” He reached for the milk and washed down half a pie in one bite. He looked up, but instead of opening his mouth to speak, became involved with my dessert tray once more. He took several long minutes selecting another treat and chomping into it.
Next Year I'll be Perfect Page 21