Chapter 11 #2
I laugh hoarsely, snorting at the end of it because I’m so congested.
It’s against my better judgment to text Mika because I know she’ll head right over here, and I don’t want to get her sick.
I can’t help it though. I’m so wretched that I need a friend.
An in-person friend, not an over-the-phone friend, though if she doesn’t want to come, it’s okay.
Phone Mika is still better than most people’s best-in-the-flesh friends.
I text her, and she responds to the SOS code right away.
She lets me know that she’s off in two hours, and she’ll get me soup and ice cream and her butt straight over to my place.
No, she does not care that I’m disgusting.
No, she doesn’t mind if she gets sick. Her text about her mom spoon-feeding her enough vitamins since birth to kill an elephant makes me laugh.
Marlene is rigid about her nutrition, that’s for sure.
She’s not restrictive. She just likes to eat healthily, and she takes expensive vitamins, drinks, and shakes.
Aside from using creams, she also drinks her skincare regime.
There’s a good chance I’m not sure how collagen actually works.
Up until a few months ago, I didn’t even know you could consume it.
Over the next two hours, I attempt to clean up the place. I do the dishes, clean the coffee table, empty the garbage, and get myself into the bath.
I wanted a shower, but I didn’t have the energy to stand up anymore after those chores.
This cold has sucked.
The cold, compounded with the sadness, stress, and almost hopelessness I feel over losing my job, double sucks.
My parents’ visit was just the shitty fudge topping on the non-existent ice cream.
This week has been one fuck of a poopslide, so it’s extra awesome when Mika walks in the door bearing a huge takeout container of soup tied in a plastic bag with handles along with a giant ice cream cake. It’s enough for at least ten people, but that’s what the freezer is for, and mine is empty.
“Oh my god!” I run to her but stop short, remembering that I’m snotty and sneezy.
She’s having none of it. She sets the food on the counter and flings herself at me, hugging me tight. “Ahhh, I’m so sorry your parents are jerks.”
“How did you know?” I didn’t say anything about that in the texts we exchanged.
She rubs my arms through my fuzzy pink bathrobe with the avocados that are actually cats.
“If they’d taken care of you, you wouldn’t have had to SOS me.”
“You look great, by the way. Those bangs are on point.”
She beams. “I cut them myself.”
They’re shorter in front and blunt across her forehead, with two long stabbing pieces trailing down.
They’re bright orange, but she’s made the rest of her hair jet black again.
Her makeup is exceptionally on point, as always.
The trench she’s wearing probably cost a fortune.
It’s got a lace-up back. In her towering platforms with all the silver rings and buckles, she’s almost a foot taller than me.
Her black dress is in the pin-up style, with little cherries on the neck part by the collar.
“I love it. All of it.”
“We got a new shipment in, and we get a killer discount.”
She doesn’t need the discount, but that’s the nice thing about Mika.
She’s always had an allowance from her dad as well as a big trust fund put away for her education.
He bought her a car, paid for Marlene’s house…
all of it. Despite the fact that she’s never had to worry about money, she’s still good with it.
She doesn’t treat herself that often, and she doesn’t have ten closets bursting full or a massive shoe collection.
She wears what she buys, and she only buys what she truly loves.
When it comes to her hair and nails, though, she has always splurged.
“What the hell is that?” Mika asks.
I laugh weakly when she asks the exact same question about the big box in the living room.
I round the small island, pull out spoons, and then grab two bowls and two plates from the cupboard.
“You haven’t eaten yet?” I ask Mika.
“Nope. I’m starving, and I can’t wait to dig into that cake,” she replies.
“Soup too.”
“No, babe. That’s for you.”
“You can’t just eat ice cream for dinner.”
“I can and I will!” She laughs manically. “But seriously, what’s in the box?”
While I pour the soup that smells like freaking heaven into a bowl and get her a big slice of the ice cream cake, I tell her all about my parents’ visit and their weird plans for me to suddenly be a crafter and open up an online store.
“Whoa.” Mika sits down beside me at the small table on the far side of the kitchen. She loves the acrylic chairs. My mom picked them out. They were a strange choice, but when it comes to my mom, it’s always someone else making the decisions for her.
I’m pretty sure she just asks the salesperson at whatever store she goes to for what they think is best and buys the first thing they recommend. For clothes as well. She gets her groceries online, but that’s about the only time she exerts independent thought when it comes to shopping.
“That’s a bit much.” Mika slides the first bite of ice cream goodness into her mouth. “Mmmmm. Soooooo good! This cake isn’t a bit much. It’s amazing. Best cake I’ve ever had.”
“I can’t wait. This is the first day I’ve actually wanted to eat anything.”
“You and Dad both.”
“What?” Oh my god. Oh no. Did I make Rowleigh sick?
Right after the barn picking, I called Mika to debrief all the way back to Providence.
I told her everything. Every-freaking-thing.
She wasn’t mad. She was overjoyed. She thought it was great that her dad was calling off the wedding, but she encouraged me not to regret the kiss.
I didn’t know where it was going, and she took that to mean I was leaving the option open should it arise in the future and feel right.
“He called me when he got to London. He said he had his head in a bucket the whole flight over. Good thing it was a private plane.”
My stomach hasn’t been the greatest, but I definitely got the head cold shit end of the stick.
I feel a thousand times worse, aching down to my bones at the fact that Rowleigh got sick.
He no doubt caught whatever I had before I came down with it.
I know it was me because everyone at work was getting sick.
While my boss fired me, she was sniffling away, and not out of any kind of sympathy.
“He updated me about the wedding. He was so wretched that Geneiva felt sorry for him. She wasn’t mad about him calling it off. Her dad is pissed, but whatever. He’s a jerkhole anyway. I don’t know about the hotels right now. I guess the business deal is still kind of up for debate.”
Rowleigh doesn’t have anyone there to bring him soup or ice cream cake. He has no one to give him a hug or hold him to help him feel better. My chest closes up, and even though I’m achy all over from this cold, this ache is different.
I want to be close to him.
I want to help him feel better.
I want to do the small things that no one has likely done for him in a very long time.
He’s rich, and rich people can take care of themselves. They can buy the best care, best doctors, best whatever. He could have someone come to his house to cater to his every need.
But the thing is, I know he wouldn’t.
He’d get through it alone, and he’d come out the other side of it eventually.
Probably like he’s done ever since he and Marlene divorced.
He’s never trusted someone to take care of his heart.
He was busy. He’s still busy. He hasn’t taken the time to slow down and feel because feeling sucks. He was probably tired of hurting.
But he took a chance with me.
He kissed me.
He told me I was great.
I should have told him that he’s also great. I mean, I kind of did at the gazebo during that storm, but I should have made sure he’d heard me, good and proper.
“Where’s this bear devil child you got from the barn? Dad told me about it. I can’t wait to see it!”
I point across the room to the bookshelf in the living room. It’s mostly full of books, but I made a space to display the bear.
“Ahhhhhh, yes! I love it! Yes, today, spawn of Satan, yes! You’ll be a great mother to the little demon.
It looks like a regurgitated hairball that someone glued teeth and eyes to after they dehydrated it.
It’s terrible. So good. So, so freaking good.
You’re a queen for finding it and giving it a loving home. ”
“Thank freaking farge my mom didn’t see it. She would have shit bricks and then had to go to the hospital for a different reason.”
“I concur. Shitting bricks is bad for the rectum.”
We looked at each other for a few seconds and then burst out laughing. I immediately dash for some tissues in case I have a coughing fit, start sneezing, or laugh so hard that I blow a booger out.
“I think it’s in the blow-dried cows’ cuteness territory in a very haunting way.”
“I love it. The old couple who owned that farm refused to take any money for it. They didn’t even remember there was a trunk of old toys in there, nor did they know who it belonged to.
They’ve had several families store things in there over the decades when they’ve moved, and some never came back for it. ”
“What did my dad get?”
“An old car grill. It’s very cool. He said he’d put it up on the wall in his mancave.”
Mika frowns. “I’ve never even been to his house. His old one, yes, but not this one. I’m a bad daughter.”
I rush to her and hug her tight. She hugs me back, even if I’m germy.
“You’re not a bad daughter,” I tell her neck.
“Your dad told me that he has so many regrets. He truly wishes he would have fought harder for you. He thought he’d mess you up if he tried.
He didn’t want you to live in a family that was torn apart by constant fighting and bitterness. ”