34. Kameron
34
KAMERON
I’ve buried myself in work since our trip to the mountains. It was all I could do to keep myself together.
When Kris and I split up in college, I was heartbroken, and I was angry, but I had my classes and didn’t have time to wallow in my grief of what the relationship once was.
This time, we weren’t even in a relationship other than casual sex for a weekend and nothing more. But yet this time, my heart aches every single time I think of him. The pain is so raw and real, sometimes it takes my breath away.
And why?
I agreed to this. I agreed to the idiocy of being friends with benefits for the weekend, and I knew it was going to end when we came home. But the way that it ended hurt worse than it ending in general.
Sighing, I dig my spoon further into my ice cream while I sit and watch the newest documentary that Netflix has released on the Menendez brothers. The Milli Vanilli songs have been stuck in my brain since that other series released, and now I’m fully engulfed in the true crime moments of Erik and Lyle Menendez.
This is adulthood folks.
How pathetic am I?
“I’m heading out to dinner with my cousin, are you sure you don’t want to come?” Cora asks.
“I’m sure, besides I already ate.” I shrug, reaching forward to pause the show. I can’t miss a single second of it.
“Ice cream isn’t a healthy food group, Kam.” She rolls her eyes playfully. “You need actual food to survive.”
“It’s the only food group I’m interested in right now.” I shove another spoonful into my mouth, smiling awkwardly at her, making her laugh.
“If you say so.” She shakes her head, pulling the door open. “Holler if you change your mind.”
“Doubtful,” I murmur, hitting play and feel my phone vibrate.
I groan, knowing it’s one of two people.
My mom asking if I’m okay, since I was apparently very down at Thanksgiving. Or it’s a random “hello” text from Kris that goes unanswered.
My phone vibrates again and I sigh, shoving the spoon into the ice cream tub, since I’m being fancy and eating straight from the carton tonight, and slide it to the coffee table.
Oh, lucky me. It’s a text from both.
Kris
I really wish you would return my texts, Kam.
I sigh, feeling that ache in my chest but also fueled by a fire as well. Anger that bubbles to the surface.
“You should have thought of that before the six hour awkward car ride home,” I say to myself before clicking out of that text thread and opening the one from my mom.
Mom
How are you feeling now?
Me
Mom, I’m fine. I’ve told you this.
Mom
Sweetheart, I’m your mother. I know you better than you think. Something happened.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, I wish she would just leave it be and let me work through it on my own.
Me
Mom, I promise. I’m fine.
Mom
I knew something like this was going to happen when you told me where you were going and who you were going with.
Me
Seriously. It’s been three weeks, everything is fine. I’m focused on work and have the Christmas Bazaar soon.
Mom
If you say so, sweetheart. You know we love you, and we just worry about you. That’s all.
Me
I know, I’m sorry. But I promise everything is fine. I love you.
Mom
I love you so much more, goodnight, sweetheart.
Me
Night, Mom.
I toss my phone onto the couch next to me and sigh, my late night Menendez show no longer looks appealing, and my ice cream has melted.
My bed is calling my name, work has been kicking my ass lately, and I hope it lightens up soon.
The more I think about the Christmas Bazaar, the more I feel the pit of dread built in my belly because I’ll have to see Kris and I’m not ready.
In all honesty, at this point, I would be completely fine to just never deal with my emotions and never see him again.
I clean up my mess, get ready for bed, and by the time my head hits the pillow, I push all thoughts of Kris from my mind and think about absolutely nothing as I drift off to sleep.
“We’re two weeks out from the Bazaar, update me on everything that is going to take place.” Mr. Daniels leans back in his chair, looking down the table to where Cora and I sit.
“We’re on track. The schools have agreed to their portion of the events,” Cora tells him.
“I have to stop by the fire department this afternoon and make sure everything is set and ready for Mr. and Mrs. Claus, I’ve reached out to a local photographer for the picture portion. The one that we have used the last few years was already booked for the weekend we needed her for. I’m hoping she would be willing to donate proceeds or at least a portion. I figured the pictures could be a few dollars a piece. It would be good advertisement for the photographer and raise money for a charity at the same time,” I point out. “Then we have the pet parade, we’ve already been advertising it and we’ve received a large response.”
“The people in this town do love their fur babies.” Mr. Daniels smiles. He would know. He has a pet bird that he often brings to work with him. He was one of the first ones to sign up, and I have a feeling that Fred, his bird, will be the highlight of the night.
“That they do.” Cora laughs. “We’ve also been advertising the ugly sweater contest,” she pauses looking around the table, “and I’d like for a few employees to participate just for fun.”
Rebecca, of course, snarls her lip at that. I guess we can mark her off that list.
“Great idea.” Mr. Daniels fixes her with a look. “Count me in.” He smiles.
“From there, the kids from the local school will perform on the courthouse steps and we’ll move the trees in after that. I’m going to drive to that new tree farm that just opened. I’m going to attempt to get some trees donated, but if not we have enough in the funds to buy a few. I’d have done it already, but I didn’t have anywhere to store this many live trees, and I couldn’t get a good contact email. I figured once the decorating portion was done we could donate the trees to some of the less fortunate homes here.”
“Oh, that’s a brilliant idea, Kameron. Great thinking.” Mr. Daniels leans forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the desk. “I’m loving everything I’m hearing so far.”
“And then,” Cora smiles at everyone around the table, and I want to slam my head against the table, “we’ll do the tree lighting ceremony, and those old enough will attend the stripping Santas event. We’re selling tickets at a reasonable price, and we’ve only got maybe ten tickets left to sell. It’s looking like it could possibly be a sold out show.”
Again. Let me slam my head into the table.
If it was anyone other than Kris coming, I really wouldn’t care.
But I don’t want to see him. At all.
Mr. Daniels slaps his hands together in a clap, jarring me back to the present.
“Everything sounds wonderful. This might be our best Bazaar yet,” he tells us.
I don’t miss the nasty look Rebecca shoots our way, or how it lingers when Mr. Daniels dismisses us all and leaves the room. She’s definitely butt hurt, and I can’t say I blame her. We have planned one hell of a Christmas Bazaar.
I’m not normally a pat myself on the back kind of gal, but I’ll be patting myself on the back well into the New Year.
Besides, she’s in charge of the New Year downtown event. She can actually serve alcohol, I can’t. Until the Stripping Santa portion that is.
And thankfully, our local Mexican restaurant has offered to cater the event.
Margaritas all night long. Thank you.
“Alright, I need to head over to the fire department and then try to hit up that new Christmas tree farm.” I sigh, gathering all of my things. “I’ll be out the rest of the day, but if you need me for anything let me know.”
“Sure will, I’m going to work on confirming our stripping Santas and then figure out all the other last minute details. The date’s moving closer, and I feel like we have a good handle on everything but I still feel unprepared.” She presses her thumb to her temple.
“I feel ya. I’ll be home for dinner, we can finish working all the tiny details out then if you want.”
“It’s a date.” She smiles as I move around the table toward the door. “Be careful, and keep me updated.”
“Will do,” I sing as I walk out of the room, only stopping at my office to grab my phone and purse before heading out to the car.
If I can survive this month, I’ll be on the straight stretch to a life where I don’t have to constantly think of Kris and our weekend together… or the anxiety surrounded by me having to see him soon.
Because I’ll never have to see the jerk again.