Chapter 9
Momentary Insanity
Caroline
“What’s the story with you and Wyatt?” my mom asked Saturday afternoon. She had just returned from the farmer’s market with Jeff. Someday soon, she would either move in with him or even marry him. And I hated the idea. I would need to pretend to be happy for her, not hurt and jealous.
Since the moment my parents separated, my driving purpose was to make my sad mom happy.
I tried my best to be the perfect daughter.
I excelled at getting good grades, keeping my room clean, and doing the dishes, but I could never cheer her up.
I could never reach her. And now she was happy, and I was the miserable one.
I was jealous of her and Jeff and ashamed of feeling that way.
I had so many feelings that I shouldn’t be feeling.
I scrolled through my phone, trying my best not to feel anything at all.
It had been a week since the family dinner.
A week since I had seen Wyatt. A week of me staring at his texts and not knowing how to reply.
And feeling guilty for not responding, but also thinking maybe it would be better if I never saw him again.
He was so kind and sweet at the family dinner.
And I was definitely attracted to him; I didn’t know what to do with that.
If this were me before meeting Greg, I would be all in.
I would be thinking of every excuse to see him again.
I would create a Pinterest board for our wedding and make a list of kids’ names that work best with the last name Knox.
But after Greg, I was wary. I had learned the painful truth that no amount of goal setting, vision boards, and self-sacrifice could ever make another person love you.
And as sweet as Wyatt was, he’d made it clear that he wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship.
I recalled what he said about breaking up with his girlfriend.
You know me. Always moving to greener pastures.
“He’s a potential client, that’s all,” I told my mom.
“A very handsome, very thoughtful, very into you prospective client,” she commented. “You’ve dated far worse.”
“He’s Greg’s cousin. That alone is a dealbreaker. Besides, I find him annoying.”
“You didn’t seem annoyed when he came over to dinner.”
Of course my mom would like Wyatt. I hadn’t thought that through when I invited him. At the time, I was thinking about my own interests. I didn’t consider how he’d charm my family.
“Only because he was annoying me less than the rest of you. Hardly an accomplishment.”
“He was sweet,” she said with a dreamy smile. “The way he whisked you away when he saw you were upset. Few men have that level of emotional intelligence.”
“Wyatt is great with people. Too bad he mainly uses his skills to charm women.”
“I didn’t get that vibe from him,” my mom said thoughtfully.
“Like I said, he has exceptional people skills.”
“Take care; that sounds like bitterness.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” I spat out. “Who do you think taught me how to be single and bitter?” My mom winced, and I immediately regretted my sharp words. “Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You were a great mom.”
My mom left the kitchen counter where she had been chopping vegetables and sat on the couch beside me. “I was not always a great mom.” She gave me a sad smile. “I know it, and you know it. I’m sorry, and I’m trying to do better. Come here.”
She wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back. I loved my mom so much. Why did I say hurtful things to her? Why was I sometimes a terrible human?
“You’re a good mom.” And she was. She made so many sacrifices for me. She always wore the most boring clothes, but happily spent more than she could afford when I requested designer shoes for Christmas in ninth grade. It was especially kind, considering how little she cared for or valued clothing.
“I don’t know about that,” she said with a fond smile.
“But I’m your mom and that makes me happy.
Caroline, I just want what’s best for you.
If you’re going to learn anything from me, please learn from my mistakes.
Let go of bitterness as soon as you can.
Open up to the possibility of good things happening in your life. ”
I heard what she was saying, I did. I knew she was probably right, but her words didn’t undo the ache in my heart, the deep, sharp fear that I was not good enough or worthy of love and never would be.
My phone buzzed. It was Wyatt. I hadn’t replied to any of his texts.
He’d seen the worst side of me, the woman who, instead of being thrilled with the news that she was going to be an aunt, melted down into a boiling mass of resentment and envy.
I couldn’t imagine why he was still texting me. I was an emotional swamp.
Knox:
Going to an estate sale this afternoon to look at some cars. The listing mentioned vintage dresses. Any interest in tagging along?
I followed the link he sent for the estate sale. In the first photo, I saw a Chanel, a Dior, and a Versace.
My fingers replied before I could overthink.
Caroline:
I’m in
His reply was immediate.
Knox:
On my way
It didn’t make sense for Wyatt to pick me up. He lived on the outskirts of Auburn, much closer to the estate sale. He would have to backtrack thirty minutes to drive me, but I wanted the time to make myself presentable. I decided to let him do the extra driving.
“What are you smiling about?” my mom asked.
“Am I smiling?” I hadn’t realized it.
“More like beaming,” she said. “Who’s on your phone?”
“Wyatt.” My mom broke into her own smug smile. “I’m not smiling because of him,” I protested. “He told me about an estate sale with some gorgeous dresses.”
I scrolled back to the photo of the gowns and showed it to my mom. “Very elegant,” she said. “But $300 for an old dress? I could find something better at Ross. That glow has to be because of Wyatt. You just went from gloomy to sunshine.”
“My excitement has nothing to do with Wyatt. Putting up with his company is the sacrifice I’m willing to make for fashion.” That was a good line. I wondered if there was a way I could say it to Wyatt.
“It’s obvious he likes you. Why don’t you like him?”
“He doesn’t like me, Mom. He’s just a kiss-up and a flirt...” I thought of him looming over me against his bookshelf— I’ve never had a problem convincing women to date me.
“And super thoughtful, whisking you out of awkward situations.”
“He is thoughtful. But I don’t think he’d ever date me seriously.”
“What makes you say that?” my mom asked, skeptical.
“Oh, stuff.” Mainly, the things Greg had said.
Wyatt was a player and a partier. Wyatt never wanted to settle down.
I knew that everything my ex said needed to be taken with a grain of salt, but Wyatt had made it clear he wasn’t interested in marriage right now.
When I suggested he marry Emma, he went from playfully flirtatious to indignant. You will not marry me off!
“I mean, sure, Wyatt thinks I’m attractive, and he’d be down for a summer romance.
But he doesn’t want anything serious,” I told my mom.
“He and I have vastly different goals.” My mind went back to some of the words he flung out so casually, words that I had carefully tucked away in my heart.
I like strong women. And driven. That’s my type.
.. Apparently, I prefer women who despise me.
... Maybe I like brats . But I had done the same thing with Greg, compiled throwaway comments as proof that he cared. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
“Well, you know him better than I do,” said my mom.
“That’s right. I’ve known him for seven years.”
“But...” my mom interrupted. “You could also be wrong. Family dinner is not usually the first step of a fling. Sheesh, Greg never spent time with us.” This comment stung. Because it was true.
“Which proves my point. I’m lousy at picking guys.”
***
On the drive over, I kept stealing glances at Wyatt.
How had I not realized just how handsome he was?
I blamed misplaced loyalty. Once I had made up my mind that Greg was the only man for me, I had put on blinders.
And after kissing Wyatt, I had done everything I could to build a case against him.
But now the scales were falling from my eyes and Wyatt and I.
.. well, we definitely weren’t enemies.
The stuff my mom had said about him liking me was messing with my head.
“Do I have something on my face?” he asked. “Or do you see something you like?”
He winked, and I gave him a withering look.
“You should know, Caroline,” he said. “I find your glare adorable.”
“You’re such a hopeless flirt.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not a bad thing. I’m jealous. Charlie got all the charm and all the height; all I got was a chip on my shoulder. My whole life, I’ve been clambering to be as good as my brother. And trust me, unbridled ambition is not appealing, especially in a woman.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“I am. Most men would like me better if I were fun and cool and sweet.” I blew an errant wisp of hair out of my face. “But I’m tired of trying to be who people want me to be. It’s exhausting. Yet, when I’m completely myself, I just come off blunt and awkward and prickly.”
“Roses are prickly and everyone likes them,” he said. “Personally, I’m fond of your prickles.”
I grunted. “You’d be the only one,” I said dismissively.
In truth, I was frantically repeating his words in my head, committing them to memory.
Personally, I’m fond of your prickles. I wondered if he could really mean it.
“Mainly, I just keep my eye on the prize,” I continued.
“But even with all my focus and effort, Charlie, the laidback, happy-go-lucky slacker is so far ahead of me.”
“I wouldn’t call Charlie a slacker, and I wouldn’t say he’s ahead of you,” replied Wyatt. “And where does it say life’s a competition?”