Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
S HANNON
“I hate your guts,” I hiss at Shyley. My legs are like jelly, but not regular jelly. Jelly that’s on fire and screaming for help.
Tillie chuckles from the other side of Shyley. “I’m with you, Shannon. How did I let myself get talked into a spin class?”
Meanwhile, Shyley cycles along like she belongs on the Tour de France, and if looks could kill, I’d be decimating her with mine right now. She swore to me that the class was fun and would help relieve my stress. That it wasn’t “that hard.”
That’s how she talked me into it, and I talked Tillie into it by promising her we would go to Enzo’s for pizza afterward. She’s never been this far into Elladine and wanted to try Enzo’s since it has a great reputation even in her small town neighboring us.
Seven minutes and thirty-six seconds later, the class finally ends. Yes, I’ve been counting the minutes because I’m ready to die on this cycle of torture. We dismount our bikes and spray down the equipment like Shyley tells us we’re supposed to, grab our towels, and head over to a corner where she says we have to stretch.
Tillie and I flop ungracefully onto the ground and lay there. I’m fully planning on lying here and not doing a damn thing Shyley says if it requires moving my body. Unfortunately, my sister’s an excellent nag, and she finally convinces me to do the bendy things with my legs she’s showing me.
“I know I just met you, and I still hate you, but this stretch does feel good,” Tillie groans.
“Told you.” Shyley smiles as she looks over at Tillie and me in our full stretch modes.
Tillie’s right, this feels great, so I follow along with the other stretches Shyley instructs us in. I’m not going to admit to her that it feels good, though. I’m still pissed at her for her trickery in getting me here.
Finally, after the stretches, she lets us lie back on the ground and tells us we should meditate quietly in place for about five minutes to bring our body down from all the adrenaline that was flowing through our veins during class. I can definitely get down with that, and I’m on the ground before she’s done talking.
The problem is the minute I close my eyes, I flashback to the other night with Troy. I’m not even sure what I think about it all happening, and I wish that I could say to myself that it’s all physical, and that explains it away, but it’s not. There’s more to it than that. I miss him. Constantly, actually. Yet, when he told me he loved me, a part of me was terrified to let myself believe that. Or to think about what that means. We’re scheduled for a final court date, for God’s sake. We’re getting divorced.
I’ve been working to become healthier by treating my depression with medications, as recommended by my provider, and working with my counselor. I’m learning techniques to be kinder to myself and to stop my negative self-talk and thoughts. Along with all of this, my thinking about Troy started to change.
I don’t know what everything I’m feeling means, but there’s a lot going through my head right now. So, I’ve been avoiding Troy for the last two days. During drop-offs and pick-ups, I’ve always made sure I don’t let him get me alone because I’m not yet ready to talk about what happened and what it might mean.
I know it’s not fair to remain silent on this. He asked me when we were going to talk about it, and I told him that I needed a little more time to process it.
This week, I will take my review class and then start my rigorous testing schedule for my CPA exam—four separate test sessions up to four hours each. Ugh. Once I get through that, then I plan to tackle sorting out what it is I’m feeling.
Just as I’m finally able to start clearing my head, I’m pulled from my Zen state by snoring, followed by Shyley laughing, one of those deep belly laughs. I open my eyes and lift myself up, resting on my elbows and forearms, and I look over to see what’s going on.
Tillie is asleep. Sound asleep. Shyley’s laughter only escalates when Tillie passes gas as she wakes herself with a snore and startles. She bolts upright, her head thrashing side to side. “What? I wasn’t asleep.” Her expression sours. “Ew, what’s that smell?”
I scoot several feet away. I join in the laughter because Shyley’s amusement is contagious. By this time, Shyley has crawled a good six feet away from Tillie. She manages to settle her wheezing laughter enough to respond.
“That smell is you. You fell asleep and were snoring and startled yourself awake farting. Or vice versa. I’m not sure which came first.”
“I most certainly did not!” Tillie’s cheeks are pink, and I’m pretty sure it’s not just from the exertion of exercise.
Shyley looks over at me, questioning in her eyes. I nod and frown at the same time.
“Sorry, Tills. You did.”
“Well, if I did—and I’m not admitting that—it’s probably because something got messed up in my body through all those stupid ups and downs on that seat of torture. It’s got my ass feeling like someone’s pounding into it with a hammer.”
“That’s what she said.” Shyley snorts obnoxiously loud. It throws her into another fit of laughter, and within seconds, all three of us are laughing uncontrollably. Ab muscles I didn’t know I had are hurting because I’m laughing so hard.
It’s not even because of the gas situation anymore. It’s one of those things when someone starts laughing like that, and you can’t not do it, too. Then we keep cycling each other into this laughter.
It takes us a solid five minutes to settle down, and we have to turn away from each other to make it happen. When we’re finally chilled out enough, we gather our stuff and head to the car. Tillie drove to my house, and Shyley picked us up... Probably so we couldn’t escape when she got us into this sadistic room. We all climb into her SUV, and she heads toward Enzo’s.
A half-hour later, we’re all taking our first bites into an Enzo’s mushroom pizza—my favorite—and we pretty much simultaneously moan as the hot cheese and sweet, yet savory sauce hits our taste buds.
“Oh my God, this is so good,” Tillie says around a mouthful.
“Told you,” I smirk at her because she insisted that she had never been to a good pizza place in Elladine, so Enzo’s must be overhyped.
Since Shyley’s driving, Tillie and I both indulge in a glass of wine, and within a few minutes, Shyley and Tillie are like two women who’ve been friends their whole lives.
“So, are you married? Seeing anybody? Tell me about your love life,” Shyley demands of Tillie.
I knew Tillie would get the third degree from Shyley, and I’ve been looking forward to seeing how that went. They’re two of the strongest women I know, and I figure they can go toe to toe with each other on their stubbornness.
“Nope. I’m single and not ready to mingle.”
Shyley lifts an eyebrow at her and tilts her head, her curiosity piqued.
I take a sip of my wine and watch the show.
“Really? You’re gonna say that and not follow up about why you’re not ready to mingle?” Shyley asks.
Tillie shrugs. “Been there, done that, got the scars to prove it.” There’s an air of joking in her voice, yet there’s tension in her jaw. Even though she’s trying to make light of it, maybe there’s something that’s hurt her.
“She does have a hot contractor she loves to hate,” I tease. I’m hoping to lighten the mood for her. Shyley’s eyes get big, and Tillie groans.
“Please. That man gets on my last nerve. If he wasn’t so damn good at his job—and if you ever meet him, Shannon, don’t tell him I said that—I’d have gotten somebody new by now. I swear if I say it’s up, he says it’s down. If I say it’s black, he says it’s white. I think he does it to irritate me.”
“I’m confused. When Lincoln and I had our house built, he worked with the contractor, and I was involved somewhat, but we didn’t have those kinds of problems. And I can be really type-A. I don’t understand why it’s an issue. You’re the client. If you say white, then you get white. He can make recommendations, but?—”
“Oh, it’s not that kind of stuff. He actually has pretty good taste. That’s another thing not to tell him I said if you ever meet him. It’s other stuff, though. Like when we’re talking about what’s happening in politics or whether cats are better than dogs.”
I’m grinning now even though I’m trying to hold it in, and I’m biting the inside of my cheek to keep myself from saying anything. I want to see how this plays out between Shyley and her.
Shyley stares at Tillie for a solid minute.
Then her eyes widen with delight, and her lips turn up into a knowing smirk. “You don’t hate him. You like him.”
Tillie stops mid bite and sneers at Shyley.
“What? No, I don’t. I promise I really, really dislike him. Well, except his arms... okay, and his ass. But otherwise, I almost hate him.”
“Nope. You don’t hate him at all. First of all, your face does something weird when you’re talking about him. You get this twitchy eye thing. Plus, if you hate him so much, how are you getting into conversations about politics and cats? Why are you even around each other enough to have that kind of conversation?”
I can’t keep my mouth shut. “Because she hangs out there when he’s working.”
Tillie whips her head toward me and shoots me a death glare. Her mouth drops open, and by the look in her eyes, I swear she’s trying to curse me. “Narc...”
“Really?” Shyley asks, now even more intrigued.
Tillie tilts her head to me and gives me a devious grin. “We should talk about Shannon’s love life instead. Ask her about Will...”
“Oh, no... Isn’t he that creepy guy at the office who got a little touchy?” Shyley looks at me for an explanation.
“He’s my supervisor. Yes, he’s the one that got a little too close for comfort. But I’ve been managing to stay out of situations where I’m alone with him. It seems to be working, and he seems to have lost interest, if that’s what it even was in the beginning. Maybe I misread his signals. It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone I wasn’t married to.”
“Is that all? What’s that look on your face for?” Shyley eyes me suspiciously.
I hate that I’ve never been able to keep things from my sister. Not that I’ve wanted to keep a lot of things from her in our lifetime, but the fact that she can read me so well means I can’t keep anything from her.
“What look?” I feign innocence.
“Oh, I see what you’re talking about,” Tillie says. She rests her elbow table and her chin in her hand, looking at my face with far too much interest for my liking. “It’s that same look you had the day of the fire.”
I roll my eyes at her, hoping that she’ll think she missed the target, and they’ll take their attention off of me.
No such luck.
“You’re thinking of your hot husband, aren’t you?”
I ignore them and take another sip of my wine, dragging it out to buy me some time to come up with a response that will distract them.
“Of course not.” Even I can hear the lie in my words. The truth is, Troy is never far from my thoughts lately.
Shyley’s eyes widen. “Shannon?”
Heat rushes into my cheeks, and my heart pounds in my chest. I glance back and forth between them, and they’re like two lionesses ready to pounce on a sweet, frightened gazelle. The gazelle being me.
An annoyed huff rushes past my lips. “Fine. Yes, I’ve been thinking about Troy.”
Shyley’s eye narrow at me in suspicion. “What do you mean thinking about him? Why?”
I shrug and look back and forth between them, my nerves frazzled. “I just am. We’ve had some time to talk. To remember why we lo—. Why we liked each other in the first place. It’s good for everyone involved if we get along well.”
“Is that all?” Tillie questions. Her expression has changed from teasing when she first brought it up to concern. I look down at the table. “Shannon, are you okay?”
A rogue tear slips down my cheek, and Shyley reaches across the table and takes my hand.
I nod vehemently. “I-I’m okay. Sorry. I’m emotional with my tests coming up. I’ve worked hard for this. I’ve... I’ve given up a lot for it.”
Tillie nods, her features soften in understanding. “I have full confidence in you, Shannon. I’ve been doing this for a while now, and you’re the brightest and most dedicated woman I’ve met in a while. Plus, you’re a beast. Scheduling the review course and four tests over eight days is a lot . But I honestly believe you’ve got this.” She tosses her arm around me and gives my shoulder a supportive squeeze.
“Thanks.” My voice comes out squeaky. “I’m starting to think maybe I was a bit overzealous in my scheduling.”
Tillie waves her free hand at me nonchalantly. “Nah, it can be done. Worse case, you take a section over. I failed my tax section the first time. Tell anyone that, and I’ll never forgive you.” She winks at me. “Plus, if you have to retake any sections, your new business partner will be understanding and make sure you have the study time you need.”
Her face shows no hint of her kidding. My eyes widen. “Seriously? Are we gonna do this?”
Tillie grins. “Hell, yes, we are! I wasn’t going to tell you this until your first test was done, but I scheduled an appointment to see that property I told you about. I know the realtor who’ll be handling it, and he’s getting us a sneak peek.”
“Holy cow, Tills! I’m so excited. I promise you won’t regret taking a chance on me.”
Tillie swats at the air. “Please, girl. We’re taking a chance on each other. I, for one, could not be more thrilled.”
My sister smiles, looking back and forth between Tillie and me.
“Aw, Shan. I’m so proud and happy for you. But”—she gives Tillie an exaggerated evil eye—“remember, she already has a best friend. Me. So, don’t be trying to steal my bestie.”
Tillie tosses her hands up in a mock defensive gesture. “We’ll see, spin witch. We shall see.”
I chuckle. “Okay, okay. No need to fight over me. A simple arm-wrestling match can settle this.”
We have fun ribbing each other and laughing. But when the laughter settles, Shyley’s face suddenly falls serious.
“Are you sure that’s all, sweetie? The test coming up, I mean.” Shyley’s in big sister mode now.
I sniffle and nod. “Yeah. That, plus I don’t know how to talk to Troy now that we’ve had sex again.”
Shyley gasps. “What?”
At the same time, Tillie, who’d been taking a sip of her wine, chokes on it and snorts as it comes flying out her nose.
“Did I forget to mention that part?” I ask, infusing as much innocence into my voice as I can muster.