Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
FINLEY
I feel bad that Thomas has to work. What a champ though, doing a double on his day off. I suppose that’s how it is for doctors. There are only so many of them, and when someone’s sick, whoever is left must take over.
I kind of feel sorry for myself, too. I was really looking forward to seeing Thomas today. And I know he was excited about finishing our photo shoots. Instead of enjoying some free time at home, like I thought I might, I decide to go into work and get started on his calendar.
Once I arrive at Happy Snaps, I turn on the computer and immediately start a new file titled “Revenge.” Then I drag Thomas’s best shots into it. From there, I’ll whittle them down according to which month they’ll fit best.
Because we’ll be a couple of looks shy, I’ll have to double up. I figure I can run two or three duplicate photos through photoshop and make small adjustments. Like I can add a Santa hat to make it suitable for December, and I can add an Uncle Sam top hat to one for July.
I spend the better part of an hour putting together a fabulous layout that’s as good as any professional calendar I’ve seen. I don’t doubt it would sell like hotcakes on the open market, but as a revenge tool, it’s a work of art. I’m immensely proud of the results and can’t wait to show them off.
Being that I don’t have any other appointments today, I decide to head over to Rosemary’s to pick up some treats. I’ll deliver them to the hospital to Thomas as a booby prize for having to go into work. Just the thought of seeing him sends a shiver up my spine.
I grab my purse and coat before locking up.
Then I practically float down the street.
Maybe my mom is right, and I should let myself fall in love without worrying how it will turn out.
After all, there are no sure things in life.
I could get hit by a bus right now. I briefly glance around to make sure I’m not in any imminent danger.
I walk into Rosemary’s, full of excitement that I’m going to see the man who makes me feel all tingly just thinking about him. Faith waves when she spots me. “Good morning. You look pretty today.”
I look down at my third favorite sweater. I’ve paired it with boring blue jeans and boots, but I’m wearing new soft pink socks, so my feet are happy. “Thank you,” I tell her before declaring, “I need a bunch of your best goodies.”
“How many do you want?” she wants to know.
“Maybe a dozen?” I reply. Then I tell her, “I’m taking them to a friend.”
“Lucky friend,” she says with a grin before assembling a collapsed box. She picks up individual pieces of parchment and starts selecting items from the case in front of her. When she’s done, she asks, “Anything for you?”
I order a hot chocolate and a ginger scone. After paying, I retrieve my purchases and tell Faith, “You’re making at least two people very happy today.” I’m guessing more because I’m sure Thomas will share at work.
It’s raining when I leave the bakery, which once again makes me glad I’ve decided to learn to drive.
If I already knew how I wouldn’t be facing a soggy six-block trek to the hospital and then another five back to my shop.
Maybe Thomas can take a break, and we can have a little chat while I wait for the rain to stop.
Or if I’m lucky, he might even drive me home.
Kicking into gear, I practically jog the whole way to the hospital.
I’m only partially drenched by the time I get there.
My raincoat has kept my body dry, but my feet are cold and soaked and so is my hair.
I should have stopped at my shop to get an umbrella, but I was so excited to see Thomas I talked myself out of it.
I tell the woman at the information stand who I’m there to see. She clicks away on her computer before saying, “I’m sorry, Dr. Culpepper isn’t working. It’s his day off.”
“It was his day off,” I assure her. “But a couple of people called in sick. He’s covering their shifts.”
Her eyebrows furrow in response. “I suppose that’s possible, but I’m not showing he’s here.” Pointing down the hallway, she adds, “Why don’t you go and check in at the ER? If he’s on duty, they’ll know.”
I follow the signs to the emergency room and then I wait behind a person practically coughing up a lung. Reaching over to the countertop, I grab a mask and put it on to protect myself. When it’s my turn, I tell the man behind the glass, “I’m here to drop something off for Dr. Culpepper.”
He barely looks up from his computer. “Dr. Culpepper isn’t in today. But if you’d like to leave it, I can make sure he gets it tomorrow.”
Hot prickles stab at the top of my head, which is how my nervous system reacts to unexpected news. “Are you sure?” I ask.
“I’m sure,” he says curtly.
Why would Thomas cancel our shoot and our date and lie about having to go into work? It doesn’t make any sense. I thought he was really looking forward to seeing me today. At least that’s what he said. A wave of hurt the likes I haven’t felt since high school swamps me.
Turning around, I walk away from the check-in area to find a chair to sit down on. If I don’t, I might collapse onto what I’m assuming is a floor riddled with a wide variety of antibiotic-resistant germs.
I find a small bench far away from other people and remove my mask. Then I open my hot chocolate and take a sip. I barely taste a thing. Picking up my phone, I text Thomas.
Me
I was thinking about stopping by the hospital to bring you a treat. Are you free?
He texts back immediately.
Thomas
You are very sweet, but we’re totally swamped.
Thomas is lying to my face. Or rather, he’s lying through his phone, which is connected to my phone, which is lying to my face. Why is he lying?
So, I type …
Me
You could meet me outside and grab it. That way you can enjoy your goodies when you have a break.
Thomas
I wish I could, but there’s so much going on, I’m probably not even going to get lunch today.
My eyes fill with tears as I look around the room. There can’t be more than a half-dozen people waiting to be seen. Is it possible that I’ve completely misread the signals? Yet, I can’t imagine how that could be. Thomas did kiss me, and it was no peck, either.
Me
Let me know if it lightens up and I’ll stop by then.
I briefly consider throwing the box of treats away, but even in my despair that seems like an awful waste. Especially as I suddenly need some comfort for myself.
Not sure of my destination, I find the nearest exit and walk back out into the rain. Instead of returning to work I decide to go home. By the time I get there, I look like a drowned cat.
Once again I torment myself wondering why Thomas would tell me he can’t wait to see me today only to make up an excuse not to.
As if I wasn’t uneasy enough about following my mom’s advice.
The advice I’m now going to ignore. Another favorite saying of hers is, “When someone tells you who they are, believe them.” And Thomas just told me loud and clear that he can’t be trusted.
I take off my dripping raincoat and hang it up to dry. Then I take the box from Rosemary’s and go into the bathroom. Before I completely lose it, I fill up my tub with my best bubble bath—the one that’s reserved for mood stabilization.
After setting up the box of pastries on the floor nearby—I’m going to take at least one bite of each—I take off my clothes and step into the rose-scented foam. I need to devise a plan how best to manage this situation. And the way I see it, I only have two options.
The first is to not confront Thomas. This is probably the option I should go with being that we’ve only been out on one date.
Maybe he had a good reason to lie to me.
Perhaps he’s having a mole removed and doesn’t want me to worry.
Or he might be setting up a surprise for me.
I suppose it’s even possible he’s as confused as I am about what to do regarding us and he’s taking some “me” time to think things over.
But then righteous indignation floods my brain and leads me to my second option which is confrontation.
I’m not usually a person who relishes conflict, and when I’m faced with it, my brain short-circuits.
My black and white world does not understand variations of truth.
You’re either honest or you’re not. The end.
Tears fill my eyes as I contemplate Thomas’s betrayal.
We had so much fun last night. SO much. He must have spent a fortune on dinner and flowers.
He hung on my every word like it was gospel.
He held my hand and kissed me. He made me feel more special than any man ever has, and now he’s taken that all away.
I replay our evening word for word, trying to figure out where I went wrong, but I can’t. Even when I expressed concerns about what kind of future we could have, he continued to assure me everything would work out.
That’s when it hits me: maybe he’s a compulsive liar. I try to convince myself that the problem is with him and not me. But I’m not sure I’m successful.
I do know one thing though. I’m starting to feel like I might need a little revenge of my own. I do not appreciate being played for a fool, and in addition to being very sad right now, I also feel enormously foolish.