Head Over Feels

by Scott, S. L.

  After all these years, I have questions about what this is with him, questions that can’t be asked because what if . . . what if he answered them?

  Surely, it will get easier to be around him once I move in. It has to be, but what if laughter and good times bond in ways that blur the line of our friendship? And why is my heart racing like the first time we met?

  Pulling my head from the clouds and my heart from floating away, I sink into reality. I remind myself that I must pack before I’m too sleepy to finish.

  Rad said I can stay there tomorrow, and although it’s sad to leave this place behind, I’m looking forward to a new adventure.

  I take a box with only a few things in it from the corner and try to keep my mind on the task at hand instead of what tomorrow brings. But a smile crosses my face when Mr. Meisler’s words cross my mind. “Sounds like you’ll be living the good life in Manhattan.”

  I will be, and he’s right about Rad as well. He may be an eligible bachelor, a catch, and all class to most, but tonight, he showed me another side to the man behind the awards. He showed me his heart.

  When he says he would have stopped me from marrying Steve, I believe him. It wasn’t his words that convinced me, but the look in his eyes. It was the same look he gave me when he said Steve was a fool.

  With sweet words like that being shared, I’m even more excited to see how our relationship grows from here. I’m not foolish enough to think it could be anything more than friends, but I’m happy to finally build on what we’ve always had.

  Looking around the room, I sigh. “It’s going to be a late night.”

  Less Rad. More packing.

  9

  Tealey

  Beginnings—of a relationship, adventures, and new opportunities—are always exciting.

  A siren in the distance wakes me just prior to my alarm going off on my phone. Though still drowsy, I let my mind drift to Rad and wonder if such things are heard where he lives.

  Remembering him stopping by last night just to check on me has me grinning by the time I open my eyes. I stretch my arms over my head, catching the first signs of light daring to slip in through the blinds. Normally, I’d groan and pull a pillow over my head, but this morning, I sit up, feeling buzzed for the day even before I’ve had coffee to do the trick.

  I pop up and plant my feet on the ground. There’s just enough room to stand in the sea of boxes on the floor. Even though Rad invited me to move in early, I was too tired, and my mind was stuck on other things, namely him, to finish. There’s not much but enough to keep me busy for a few hours.

  Something about seeing all these boxes, my life and belongings, hidden in brown cardboard brings a wave of sadness. This is it. My last day.

  I won’t hear Mr. Meisler yelling, “Shuddup,” or smell Mrs. Russo’s secret red sauce simmering when it wafts from the second floor. No more sirens in the night or sanitation guys yelling in the early morning hours. Okay, I won’t miss the last two, but the first two for sure.

  The housewarming present from Cammie, a coffee pot, no longer sits on the counter. My surprise birthday present from Marlow, a rosebud vase I fell in love with two years ago when we were shopping at the flea market, was wrapped in paper and packed away. The guys gave me a framed photo of all six of us on the beach in the Hamptons two summers ago as a gift for Christmas. Its spot on the windowsill now sits empty.

  Memories of the experiences that have shaped who I am usually fill this apartment but are gone and hidden today. I wrap my arms around myself, my throat thick when I swallow. My mom would tell me to keep moving forward and not to wallow.

  She’s my best cure for the blues, and I know she’s always up early, so I make the call. She answers on the first ring. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” I reply, rummaging around to make sure I didn’t forget anything. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I feel lost without my usual morning routine. I’m not even close to being ready to go to Rad’s tonight. I stop and sigh, the weight of worry pressing down on me. “I’m scared, Mom.”

  “Don’t be, darling. You’ll land right where you’re meant to be.”

  “Is that here or back in Texas? Should I have come home?”

  “I’d love to have you here, but I have a feeling you’re more suited for the Big Apple these days.”

  I’m already smiling, my chest feeling lighter. “Change is good,” I say, hoping I’ll believe it. I don’t. Not quite yet.

  “Change is good. Look how well you’ve been since the breakup with Steve.”

  Logically, I know I’m better off, but should it have been so easy to part ways? I’ve been more hurt by his parting commentary than the absence of him.

  Ugh. Like Rad said, he doesn’t deserve another second of my time or any emotion of mine. “Yeah. Just moved right on.” He sure did. “What are you doing this morning?”

  “Having a cup of coffee on the back porch and listening to the birds starting the day with a song.”

  “By looking at the time, you better get a move on this morning.”

  “Is that a moving pun, Mom?”

  “No,” she says with a laugh I miss so much. “It’s don’t get fired advice.”

  I pull the string of the blinds and let the sunshine in. “It’s good advice.”

  “Remember, Tealey, home is where the heart is. You’re always welcome to return, but something tells me your life is there. So put on your strongest armor and face this new challenge head-on.”

  That seems to be all I need to find the strength to charge forth. “Thank you, Mom.”

  “You’re welcome. Remember what I’ve always told you. A new chapter starts with a fresh page.”

  “It’s time to live a new story.”

  * * *

  I dump my bag on my desk before making a beeline for the break room in desperate need of coffee. Last night, I accidentally packed some of my morning routine items, so it took me longer than expected to get ready, and I had no time to stop for coffee.

  As soon as I have a hot cup in hand, I return and straighten my cubicle in preparation for the day, and then send Rad a quick text: I can’t make it tonight. Still too much to do.

  Three dots wave across the screen and then disappear.

  Wave, and then gone again. Then a message populates: Anything I can help with?

  Me: No. Just need more time.

  Rad: Good luck.

  Me: Thanks. I need it.

  I set my phone down and take another sip of coffee.

  My co-worker Peggy wishes me a good morning on the way to her desk. “Misty’s in the waiting area.”

  “She is?” I stand and tilt to see down the aisle. “I have news for her.” After kicking my bottom drawer closed, I head to the waiting area and signal for her to come back. “I have good news.” I return to my chair and direct her to one of the two others that fit in the cramped space. She pushes her long brown hair from her shoulder and lets her shoulders sag. Concealer can’t hide the dark circles under her eyes, and the faintest of smiles appear to be a chore.

  “I could use some, but I don’t have much time. I can’t be late to work again.”

  I open the file. “This is an agreement to work with one of the best divorce attorneys in New York. He’s taking your case pro bono, so you won’t have to pay him.”

  She studies the papers as she twists the straps of her purse in her lap. Looking at me, she asks, “He’s really going to help my kids and me? There’s no catch?”

  “He is. He was moved by your story.” Resting my hand on my chest, I say, “I know him personally. He’ll do everything he can to help you.” I pull a pen from a mug I keep on my desk and set it on top of the papers. “I read through them. It is a legal document, but there’s nothing to be concerned about. It’s giving him the right to represent you with your permission. If you agree, you sign here, and then I’ll contact your current legal aid to inform him of our plans to work with Mr. Wellington.”

  “I trust you,
Tealey.” She picks up the pen and signs. When she sets it back on the desk, she stands, gripping her bag to her body. “Deacon is allowing me to visit my mom this weekend with the kids.” Her voice is so soft that I stand and lean in closer to hear. “It will give us a few days to plan.”

  “That’s good. All the pieces need to be in place. Mr. Wellington will make this divorce happen on your behalf. I just know it.” She looks relieved.

  “Thank you for everything. I’m just so grateful.”

  We wrap our arms around each other, and before she leaves, she says, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “I’m here when you need me.”

  She nods before lowering her head and quietly leaving the center. I flop into my chair and drop my head into my hands. She’s one of so many, and the realization that I can’t help everyone in need overwhelms me some days.

  I’m more tired than usual today from the late night, but my heart still hurts. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, I regain my composure, take a sip of coffee, and then return to the front to assist the next person.

  It’s a steady stream of clients all morning. By lunch, I’m operating on coffee and a countdown to the end of the day. I’m about to sneak eat a package of crackers I store in my desk when I hear Peggy’s voice from the other side of the cubicle. “How’s the sexy roommate?”

  I’m laughing too hard to reply to Peggy right away. It’s not the first time I’ve heard someone call Rad sexy. It happens practically every time we’re at restaurants or in bars, the beach, and at parties. Okay, it pretty much happens anywhere that man goes. But the roommate part is what sends me into a teenage fit of giggles because yeah, that incredible man is my soon-to-be roomie.

  “Wait, how do you know?”

  She says, “A certain smooth-talker called to tell you the key is being made and will be delivered later. Since you were busy, I took it upon myself to satisfy my curiosity.”

  I’d roll my eyes, but she cracks me up too much to be annoyed, so I find myself smiling instead. “Ah, I see.” I lean against the feeble cubicle wall and peek over. “I assume the door is locked?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well then, officially,” I say to Peggy, “I move in on Saturday.”

  “And unofficially?”

  “Tonight.” I giggle again, my grip tightening on the top rail of the barrier. Peggy’s not only a great resource for me but she has also become a friend.

  She rocks back in her chair, smiling up at me. “I read all about him in that Manhattan Movers and Shakers column last weekend online. Full-spread article with photos. What a hunk. I know you’re friends, but I didn’t realize how good of friends you were to be shacking up together. Tell me something, Tealey. How are you going to sleep, knowing that man is just mere feet from your bed?”

  “Like a baby,” I say, pretending to doze off. But my lids open, and I lean down so no one else can hear me except her. “I’ve tested the bed. It’s luxurious.”

  “Tested, huh?” She’s all ears, interest piqued. She turned sixty when we celebrated that time, but I have a hunch she’s been the same age for at least five or more years now. She always says she wished she’d settled down and had a family, but her life was too big back then. She modeled in Europe, worked at the Macy’s downtown, and then turned to social work. Now she says she lives vicariously through me. She’s incredible, and selfishly sad for me, she’s retiring this year.

  Resting her chin in her hands, she’s eager for more details.

  Bursting out laughing, I roll my eyes. “I’ve laid on the bed. By myself.” I throw my arms up. “Just to get a feel for it.”

  “Was he with you when you got a feel for it?”

  “You’re so naughty, Peggy,” I say, still laughing. “And we’re not shacking up together. We’re sharing a very large apartment. We could pass each other in the night and not notice. That’s how big it is.”

  “Since you brought up how big it is . . . you’re stronger than me, sweetheart. There’s no way I could live with him.” Grabbing a stack of papers, she taps them on her desktop and then lowers her voice. “It’s been too long since my vagina’s seen the light of day.”

  “I can’t speak to you, but if it makes you feel better, I’m in the same boat.”

  “All I can say is buy extra batteries then. You’re going to need them.”

  With a goofy grin, I push off the small wall as images of Rad talking to Peggy swirl in my head. I wish I could have heard that play out. As soon as I sit down, she looks over.

  Scanning our surroundings to make sure the coast is clear, she then turns back to me. “Rumor has it we’re over budget. There might be cuts.” My stomach drops.

  “What rumor?”

  This time, she rolls her eyes. “Lowell blabbing on speakerphone to a friend the other day.”

  Job cuts? Have I assumed too much? Do I have job security, or should I consider putting a backup plan in place?

  She stands with the papers tucked to her chest. “Don’t worry. We run out of money every year, so I’m not worried. Not yet.”

  “Because you’re retiring.”

  She perks up. “Jersey Shore, here I come.”

  Mr. Meisler was right—sounds like Jersey is the retirement hotspot.

  “I need to talk to Lowell,” I say, “so maybe I’ll ask him directly.”

  Peggy laughs. “You do that. You do that, honey, and report back to me.”

  I laugh nervously. “I don’t think I have the guts.”

  “Well, neither do I. I guess we wait and see what happens.”

  When she goes to the back room, I’m left with my own thoughts. Lowell is full of a lot of stuff, but insider information is usually not one of them. I bet he was just talking nonsense.

  Hopefully.

  But if he’s not, the thought of locking myself into a new lease with no guarantee of a job adds a new concern to the mounting pile.

  I walk down the hall and knock lightly on my boss’s door. Lowell’s kicked back with his feet on the desk, and his personal phone is pushed to his ear like he’s some high-powered attorney with an incredible view of the Manhattan skyline, basically Rad, instead of working in a government-funded office in a section of Brooklyn that doesn’t get the hype like the DUMBO area near the bridge.

  Annoyance crinkles the right side of his face. “What is it?”

  “As you know, I have to be out of my apartment—”

  “I know this.” He rolls his hand in front of him. “Everyone knows. Get on with it.”

  I recoil. His rudeness and impatience smack of Steve, and my insides brace. “I still have some packing to do.”

  “Hold on.”

  I wait, but then he drops his face to the linoleum and shakes his head. “Not you. You need time off? You can use your lunch at the end of the day. If you need more than that, fill out the time-off request form, and I’ll consider it.”

  I’m feeling stuck. My stomach already rumbles from the thought of not eating until tonight. I can’t afford time off, though. I need the money. “Can I sacrifice two lunches instead of time off?”

  “Yeah, whatever.” He spins away from me in the chair, and says, “Where were we . . .? Ah, yes, so you were wearing the pink number—”

  How does someone so careless and heartless end up working in a social services office? It can’t be for the money, so I’m always puzzled why Lowell is here. And since he’s my boss as well, I had another reason to move away.

  I shake off his bad vibes and focus on the fact that I will be at Rad’s tonight, and technically, it’s mine now as well. At least in the short term. I’ll never be able to afford something that nice, so I’m going to savor every minute in that beautiful place.

  I might even relish in Rad as well.

  Who am I kidding?

  I already do.

  10

  Tealey

  My smile is instant, my heart beating faster to meet the joy I feel seeing my two best friends waiting for
me. My pace picks up as I hurry toward my building. “What are you guys doing here?”

  Cammie, dressed in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, waves. “We thought you could use reinforcements.”

  Marlow stands in sleek white pants and a fitted black silk top, not looking like she’s here to pack. She’s holding a tray of drinks, though, so I won’t complain. “And I brought coffee.”

  I readjust my bag on my shoulder and hug them. “Thanks for being here.”

  The three of us have been best friends since we were assigned to the same tour group on the first day of freshman orientation at New York University. Although we couldn’t be more different, we clicked, and as the saying goes, the rest is history.

  Cammie grabs the handle of the door. “When you texted that you’ll miss a few lunches to finish,” she says, punching in the code, “we figured we could knock it out quicker together.”

  “There’s not a lot left to pack, but I appreciate you being here.”

  Marlow wraps her arm around me. “We’re always here for you.”

  Although I know she won’t pack much, her being here, with coffee I might add, makes the chore not so bad. “Mocha latte?”

  “You know it.”

  We file up the stairs, and after I change clothes, I come out of the bathroom and say, “I’m moving in with Rad,” more for Marlow since Cammie already knows.

  Marlow’s eyes widen, and then she smiles. “You are?”

  “I am. He offered, and I accepted. We’re a match made in roommate heaven.” I fold the flaps of a box down while Cammie drags tape along the seam. Realizing how that might be taken the wrong way, I add, “As friends, of course. Friendly roommates. That’s all. Nothing to see or discuss. We probably won’t even see each other much. Just two friends—”

  “We get it.” She winks at Marlow. “It’s platonic.” Double wink. My mouth drops open as she grins and adds, “No one thinks otherwise, Teals.”

  Marlow relaxes on the couch, shoes on the floor, her legs tucked under her, and her shoulders shaking with laughter. “I’m happy that worked out. I told him the other day to help me convince you to stay. I guess he worked his magic.” She smiles mischievously and then clicks her tongue and winks.