Part 19 (1/2)
”And what is it, exactly?” I asked, fighting the tears flooding the corners of my eyes. ”Are we going steady? Are you going to give me an ID bracelet and a box of conversation hearts? Do you want to get married? Because I've been there, done that, and I don't know if I'm ever going to be ready to do it again. So what's the point, Monroe?”
”The point is that I love you. And it really p.i.s.ses me off that you don't want to hear that.”
”Because it's got to be on your terms!” I yelled. ”It's got to be on your timetable, your way. You know, maybe it's not that I don't want to be in a relations.h.i.+p, maybe it's that I don't want to be in a relations.h.i.+p with you. You're always pus.h.i.+ng and judging and trying to make me change into the person that - I don't know - is worthy of you? I mean, you wouldn't even talk to we until I proved that I was low-maintenance enough for you. I don't want to be your pet project. I've already tried living with a man whose standards I couldn't meet and I'm not going to do it again.”
”Stop making this about Mike. I am not your husband.”
”You're right, you're not.”
”Grow up, Lacey.”
”f.u.c.k you, Monroe.”
25 * A Step Back.
When everything imploded with Mike, I prided myself on the fact that I hadn't shown up at anyone's door crying hysterically and looking for a sympathetic ear, despite the fact that such a juicy piece of gossip would have made me welcome in any home in town.
After my fight with Monroe, I felt that I was due.
”Honey, what happened?” Emmett cried, opening the door to find me tearstained and disheveled.
”Monroe... fight... labels!” I sobbed as he took my suitcase.
”She had a fight over Marilyn Monroe and labels?” a low voice sounded from the dining room.
I opened my eyes and realized that there were three men sitting at Emmett's dining room table, sipping wine and staring at me like I had an extra head. The table was sumptuously spread with dim sum, rice noodles, and a couple of Asian vegetables I didn't recognize.
”Em, I'm so sorry!” I gasped. ”I didn't know you had company.”
”Oh, sweetie, you just made a rather bland evening that much more interesting,” he whispered, tucking his hand through my elbow. ”Seriously, Kirk just finished his fourth retelling of his entire cruise to Alaska ... with his mother. Can you imagine? I mean if he'd gone somewhere interesting, that would be one thing. But he spent fifteen minutes describing whales surfacing. You've saved us all.”
He wrapped his arm around me and said in a much louder voice, ”Now come in and have a good cry, and we'll sympathize.”
”I'm sorry about this,” I said to the guests, only one of whom I recognized - Emmett's on-again, off-again boyfriend, Peter. Emmett made the introductions. The guys stood and helped me to my chair as if I were the walking wounded. Thomas, a whippet-thin man with three earrings and a healthy head of silver-blond hair, poured me a gla.s.s of white wine and patted my head.
”Emmett told us all about you,” Kirk gushed. He seemed very young and still had a bit of the baby-fat look around his chin. ”You are so brave. I just don't know if I could ever hold my head up if something like that happened to me -”
Thomas cleared his throat and shook his head. ”So what's got you so upset, Lacey? Emmett told us you were doing so well.”
”Post-divorce stress disorder?” Peter suggested. ”I know I only met Mike once or twice, Lace, but I just did not like that man. It's okay to be uptight and it's okay to be boring, but not at the same time.”
”No.” I sniffed. ”Mike had nothing to do with it, really, even though he technically started the fight and then ran off, as usual. Monroe was just being such an a.s.shole, telling me how great I could be if I would just change. I'm really tired of people telling me what about my personality needs fixing.”
”So we're not talking about Marilyn Monroe, then,” Thomas said speculatively.
”Monroe's my... I don't know what to call him, which was part of the problem, really. He's upset with me because I refuse to put a label on us.”
Peter nodded. ”That makes more sense than what I had in mind.”
”It's her neighbor up at Chez Divorcee. You should see this guy,” Emmett said. ”Legs that go on forever, biceps the size of my head, and his a.s.s -”
I frowned. ”Let's just say he's doable and move on.”
”Sooo doable.” He sighed. When he saw my face, he flinched. ”Crossing a line?” I nodded. ”Sorry.”
”So how long did you two date?” Will asked, seeming nonplussed by our ”do-ability” sidebar.
”We didn't really date so much as just hang out all the time, talk, and make each other meals.”
”Sounds sort of perfect,” Thomas said, tilting his head.
”It was. It was kind of perfect. I mean, I was fortunate to have two functioning brain cells after the e-mail thing, although I suspect those cells spend most their time arguing. And I met this guy, and he was all p.r.i.c.kly and mysterious, but I dug that.”
”p.r.i.c.kly could work,” Peter conceded. ”As long as it was paired with hot, p.r.i.c.kly could work.”
”We ignored each other completely for a while, or at least Iignored him, while he tried to figure out why I was ignoring him. And then he just started being nice to me. We became friends. We hung out, talked about stuff we were interested in. We had athletic, spontaneous, no-strings-attached s.e.x.”
”Baby's first booty call. I am so proud,” Emmett said, wiping a mock tear from his eye.
”We continued to have the friends.h.i.+p. Then I met his family, he met my ex, and everything got weird.”
”Emmett, you said she sucked at relations.h.i.+ps!” Kirk exclaimed. ”That doesn't sound so bad.”
”Emmett!” I yelled. ”That's not fair! I've only had two relations.h.i.+ps in the last decade!”
”Sounds healthier than my last three relations.h.i.+ps,” Peter said.
”I was at least one of those relations.h.i.+ps,” Emmett said. ”a.s.s.”
Peter shrugged. ”I'm just saying.”
”So what went wrong, Lacey?” asked Thomas, who seemed to be the group moderator.
”He found out that I'd been offered a job writing e-mail newsletters for other woman like me, and he told me he thought it was a bad idea. He got really upset about it, thought it would damage my soul or something. I told him I'd drop it, but I was still considering it. I mean, the woman who offered me the job kept upping the salary -”
At that, the tribe winced collectively, making a unified ”ooooh” sound, as if they'd been kicked in the gut.
”So you, basically, lied to him,” Peter said.
”Well, it sounds really bad when you put it that way,” I protested. ”Don't I get a say in how I'm going to make my living?”
Thomas poured more wine. ”Sure. Claim your personal power. Be the master of your destiny. But expect some fallout when a man tells you that it's really important to him that you don't do something and then you go behind his back and do it anyway. Whether it's going after a job you want, or say, cheating, when you use deception, you have to accept the consequences.”
I frowned. This conversation was not going the way I'd expected. I thought Emmett's friends were morally obligated to fuss, ply me with regional wines, and make me feel better. This whole mirror of truth exercise was not as fun.
”So how did Mike play into all this?” Emmett asked.
”He came up to the cabin in his usual way, trying to bl.u.s.ter his way through and act like nothing happened. He had the nerve to get p.i.s.sy and territorial with Monroe.”