Part 20 (1/2)

”No, I don't think so,” she said, still staring, trying to place me. ”I just started teaching here in September. I mean, I went to Briarwood, but I've been away at college for the past four years.”

I shrugged and she shook herself out of her dazed thoughts. ”Anyway, so I'll be seeing you on Friday, Carolyn?”

”I'll be here early setting up. I'm pretty much on duty the entire night.”

”Me too. It'll be fun!”

”I'm so glad I met you, Andie.”

There are many reasons why you shouldn't operate a hand-held phone while driving. The obvious reason would be to prevent a crash, grievous injuries and the like. Another reason? To prevent yourself from getting a fat ticket and a stern talking-to from the cops. But the most compelling reason I now had for never, ever doing it again? Calling someone without intending to do so.

I was trying to reach one of my electricians, Kevin, but was instead greeted by a giddy girl's voice chirping, ”Jeremy! Hey, it's great to hear from you.”

”Kenzie?”

”The one and only!”

”Um, hey, what's up? How's your week going?” I tried to be casual even though I was repeating: f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k in my head.

”Getting better and better,” she practically sang.

”Listen, I-”

”Oh, I know why you're calling,” she interjected. ”Sadie told me already. She set up plans for Sat.u.r.day night...the four of us.” I said nothing, stunned momentarily. Kenzie didn't seem to notice, she just kept on talking. ”I forgot the name of the place. It's some Italian restaurant that she said was awesome. Sadie said our reservation is for eight o'clock.”

”Oh.” That was the brilliant response I came up with.

”I think it's in Westerly. You don't need to drive all the way up here to get me. I can borrow my mother's car and park at your place.”

She's a good person, I told myself. You f.u.c.ked her so the least you can do is take her out to dinner. After dinner, you can have a talk-tell her that it's not going to work out. Be kind and respectful to a girl who certainly deserves much better than you.

”Did you hear me, Jeremy?”

Her question pulled me back from my rambling inner dialogue. ”I'll come and pick you up, Kenzie.”

”Are you sure?”

”Absolutely.”

”Hey, d.i.c.khead, I said you could set up one date for me. I don't recall appointing you as my social calendar director.”

”So good to hear from you, Rivers. For the record, Sadie set that up. I didn't.”

I let out a breath. ”Seriously, Frank, please tell her to cut that s.h.i.+t out. Kenzie's a nice girl. I don't want to mess with her head.”

”You're not interested? You seemed into her last weekend.”

”I was drunk. I'm not proud of that. I'm a s.h.i.+t for leading her on like that, but all this double-dating c.r.a.p is making it worse.”

”You did f.u.c.k her, though, correct?”

”None of your business.”

He laughed. ”Kind of heard it through the grapevine already but it's nice to know you're a gentleman.”

”Great,” I muttered.

”You are coming on Sat.u.r.day, though, right?” Frank asked cautiously. ”I mean, she's really into you. Just give this a chance.”

I was pressing my free hand into my forehead. I was developing a killer headache. ”When I'm with her it doesn't feel right.”

”You're just out of practice.”

”I don't think so.”

”Let's just go out as four friends, have some drinks, some laughs...see where it goes. I'm sorry, Jeremy, but I'm not gonna sit back and let you just exist-to keep up this miserable, lonely routine you've got going.”

”I'm not miserable.”

”But you're not happy. I want you to have what I have with Sadie, man. I'm happy.”

I thought about Kenzie the rest of the week. Thought about her good looks, her smile, the way her body responded to mine. I thought about the pain she's endured in her young life. Tried to muster up some deeper sense of feeling for her.

I also thought about Carolyn a lot. I replayed the scene from the grocery store in my head. Before that a.s.shole had come strolling in, barging in on our reunion, I could swear she looked at me with longing. But then she introduced me as a cla.s.smate, nothing more. It was confusing as h.e.l.l. And it was painful...still painful after all this time.

I contemplated dropping into the coffee shop to drill Tori for information but thought better of it. When Tori reached out to me Friday morning, dropping a text to ask if I was going to the Briarwood Gala, a simple nope was my reply. I felt hostile as I pounded those four letters out.

I wondered if Carolyn would see my work. If she would even recognize herself as my subject, my muse for every important piece I'd ever created.

I simultaneously prayed she would see them-feel my love for her through each stroke-and cringed thinking she may react by laughing at my immature need to hold onto her, when she probably had moved on from me long ago.

The gym had been transformed. Swaths of pale, glittery fabric hung from twinkling overhead light fixtures that cast a warm glow over the s.p.a.ce. The tables were set with fine china, silver cutlery and crystal gla.s.sware that sparkled in the light.

I saw Beth Peterman setting spectacular fall themed flower arrangements in the center of each table. I decided to extend an olive branch. This woman had done nothing to me, aside from making me seethe with jealousy. I can't say I was a fan, though, because if it was true, she hooked up with Jeremy while he was in high school and that was just flat-out wrong. But my new philosophy, in addition to speaking my mind and expressing myself honestly, also included things I was still working on: self-acceptance and letting go of the past. So I would let go of this hurt.

”My mother said you made these arrangements yourself. They're beautiful, Mrs. Peterman.”

She turned, wide-eyed and wary when she saw it was me. ”Thank you so much, Carolyn,” she said, recovering. She smiled warmly then. ”I love arranging flowers. I'm so glad I could do this for the Gala.”

”Well, you're talented, and my mom said you've been a great help.” That compliment rendered her childlike, beaming with delight and pride. Her reaction made me feel sympathetic. I decided in that moment that I shouldn't judge her. Here she was, a fish out of water, married to a geezer who sought fit to marry a girl the same age as his daughter from his first marriage. Maybe Beth didn't have it as easy as I'd a.s.sumed.

I smiled and then told her I had to get back to work, gesturing towards the raffle table I was setting up. I was pleased; the baskets looked professionally done and the placards that Ava had created on her laptop had great graphics and expressed the high quality of the merchandise within each one. These should fetch some big bucks, I thought to myself later as I took a step back and admired the finished display.

I waved to the other women as I was leaving and then headed home, where Ava, Tori and Taylor were meeting to get dressed for the night.

After I showered, I flopped back on my bed for a few minutes and admired the s.h.i.+ny, dark red mani-pedi I'd gotten the day before. Pampering myself was not something I'd done a great deal of in the past three years. It felt good. I looked over to the red dress hanging on my closet door. It was knee length, nothing too formal, but the satin fabric hugged my body. It looked a bit nineteen-twenties; the dress was s.e.xy but elegant. I decided to get ready before they arrived. I dried and curled my hair into loose waves. I applied mascara, some blush and a tinted lip gloss that reddened my lips just slightly. I put on the satin bra and panties I'd purchased for tonight, slipped the dress over my head and then slid my feet into the black, strappy heels. I turned in the mirror, taking myself in from every angle. I looked good.

”You look good, girl!” Tori exclaimed as she entered my room, a garment bag draped over her arm. ”Holy s.h.i.+t, Carolyn,” she said, taking me in more thoroughly. ”I'm serious, you look so beautiful.”

”Thanks, Tori. Let's get you dressed.”