Chapter 1 #3
Hazel and Winnie are big softies hidden in the bodies of tough-as-nails career women, especially when it comes to their animals.
They’re currently fostering a beagle mix named Old Sport and a gray British shorthair cat named Captain, and that’s on top of the four animals they already foster failed—three cats and a dog.
This is not a pair who can say no to homeless animals.
“Hazel, why did you give me a forty-count box of condoms?”
“If you’re going to have sex, I want you to be safe. That’s what the sticky note on the box says.”
“First of all, even if I was going to have sex, I won’t be doing it with an army of—”
“You never know.”
“Also, I don’t know how I feel about having sex with some stranger on what is supposed to be my—”
“Yes, your honeymoon, blah blah blah. A vacation fling with some himbo who has muscles for days is the ideal way to get back out there. Let some hottie throw you around a bit…you might feel differently about dating when you get back. Or at least after letting someone give you a decent orgasm.”
“Todd—”
“Don’t even. That jar of mayonnaise couldn’t find his way to a pleasure zone if someone mapped it out for him. Get some head and then we’ll talk.”
I involuntarily snort-laugh. Todd was…a tidy lover. There wasn’t a lot of foreplay. I don’t miss the sex, that’s for sure. I put Hazel on speakerphone and set my phone on the bed to talk to her while I change into my favorite red bikini.
“Okay, fine, but what about the stranger thing? I listen to true crime podcasts—this is how women get kidnapped,” I say.
“Get a name and Winnie will run a background check on him.”
Winnie is a lawyer, and probably would run a background check if I asked.
“Look, I’m sure there are some bachelor parties at an all-inclusive. Just slide up to someone at a bar, exchange a few flirty words, and get your business on. If you’re open to it, the universe might send you the ride of your life.”
I can hear her winking through the phone.
While she’s talking, there’s a buzz—someone is texting me.
“Ride of my life, yeah yeah. Are you texting me something?” I ask.
“No? It’s probably your parents checking in on you.”
I tilt the phone toward me, but it’s not my parents.
It’s Todd.
T: Did you send that box???
Shit.
“Who is it?” Hazel asks.
“Todd.”
“What the fuck does he want?”
After I moved out of the apartment Todd and I shared, I lived with my parents for a couple of months.
I didn’t touch any boxes, nothing outside of what was in my suitcase.
I moved into my own place in March, the same month I was supposed to be getting married.
It’s taken me a while to fully unpack, and earlier this month, I realized that a box I thought was mine is actually his.
He asked me to mail it to him, said he couldn’t come get it and didn’t want me to come by to drop it off. But the last few weeks have been insane, and I never got around to it.
“The box,” I say, and Hazel groans. She knows about the box.
“Not this stupid box.”
“You don’t think you could…”
“Absolutely not, Abby. And that’s not because I won’t do anything for you; it’s because this is too generous a favor for a man who unceremoniously dumped you. This is too much for someone who did nothing for you but broke your heart.”
“I know, Haze. It’s just…easier this way. If for no other reason than I don’t have to see his face. Hold on, let me text him back.”
I take a deep breath to calm my nerves as I type a message to him.
Todd was the kind of guy who had to have a clean kitchen before going to bed every night.
If he woke up and there were dishes in the sink, it would ruin his day.
He hated it if my clothes were anywhere other than a drawer, hamper, or hanger.
He was never mean about any of it, but he would sigh deeply and sometimes roll his eyes.
Todd had preferences and peculiarities, and it was always just easier to do things his way.
Abby: heyyy, I am so so sorry. I didn’t get a chance to and I’m out of town now. Work has been a nightmare and I’ve had a migraine every weekend. I really did try to get it to you, but I swear I’ll send it the day I get back. SO SO sorry.
I only delete and retype it four times before sending it, trying and failing to ignore the way my chest feels too tight.
I hate inconveniencing other people. And I know Todd is going to read my text and do that deep sigh he always did.
I’m just glad I don’t have to be around to witness it. It always made me feel so small.
T: k.
My stomach clenches; my ribs constrict around me. There it is. Knowing I’ve disappointed someone, that I’ve made their life harder because I couldn’t follow through on this one simple thing.
“Okay, sorry,” I say to Hazel.
“Listen to me, now that you’ve done that and it’s off your plate, don’t think about it again. I want you to go put on that sexy red bikini and sit by the pool with a drink and a book. And don’t give that dumb ex of yours another thought, okay?”
Hazel makes me promise I’ll do exactly that before she lets me hang up the phone, and I break my promise immediately by lying back on the bed, dropping my phone, and staring up at the ceiling.
The fan twirls in lazy circles, and I let myself be hypnotized by it for a time.
Maybe it will rewire my brain, and I can actually relax a little bit.
Maybe I’ll relax so much that the idea of going back to teaching doesn’t feel so terrible.
Maybe it will hypnotize me into believing that I don’t have to make myself small with Todd or anyone else ever again.
The fan does none of these things, and I finally sit up, looking around at the lap of luxury. It seems silly to feel so defeated in a place so beautiful. Maybe I should take Hazel’s advice and go to the pool.
I pack my pool bag with my e-reader, sunscreen, and a towel from the bathroom and stand in front of the mirror.
I look tired, run down, and I feel like a girl wearing a costume, not a grown woman on a vacation.
Maybe that feeling will go away once I’m at the pool, or maybe I’ll be spending the next nine days fighting with myself and the demons I brought with me on this trip.
I guess there’s only one way to find out.