34. Simon
Simon: Everyone. My house. One hour.
Wes: Can I ask why or am I going to regret it?
Simon: Just come. I have beer, and I need help.
Shane: Simon Banks is asking for help? What did you do?
Oliver: Who’s the new number? Why isn’t this in the regular group chat?
Emmett: Simon, I have strong feelings about group texts. Actually, just one. I hate them. Why did you add me to this?
Simon: Everyone, Emmett is now in the chat. Because he’s in this.
Wes: In what?
Oliver: I’m nervous.
Shane: What did you do…
Emmett: Oh, he fucked up. Bad.
Wes: Did his actions finally have consequences?
Emmett: Winner winner, chicken dinner.
Wes: We’ll be over in an hour.
Oliver: And we’ll bring pizza.
One hour and three minutes later, my brothers from other mothers come walking into my house. My back is to them, so I can’t see their faces, but judging by their silence, they’re probably pretty confused as to what they’re walking into.
“What the fuck…”
I turn around to see four blank stares. “What?”
“Did you make a PowerPoint?”
I look to my eight-five-inch television screen then back to them. “I did.”
“Can we ask why?”
They all take a seat on the various couches and chairs in my living room. But not before grabbing themselves a drink.
Shane grabs two.
Which, I get it. I’d probably need one too if I walked into a grown-ass man’s living room to see a presentation loaded with the title: “Help Me Unfuck Up.”
“As you were all clued in on in the text message earlier, the thing all of you predicted months ago has come to a head.”
“How did she find out?” Wes asks.
“What makes you say she found out?” I ask.
Wes narrows a look to me.
“She caught Simon and I in her office arguing about it,” Emmett says.
“What he said,” I grumble. “Though that does take away the beginning of the presentation.”
“Simon, as a teacher, I want to commend you on taking the time to make this,” Oliver says. “But can I ask…why?”
“Great question, number one best friend. As you all know, I have the tendency to act before I think about my actions. Or say things without thinking through them.”
“You don’t say…” Wes mutters.
“Enough from the peanut gallery.” I take the remote and switch it off the title slide. “So I was sitting here and sulking about Charlie, trying to figure out what I can do to get her back. It’s why you haven’t heard from me in a few days.”
“Didn’t notice,” Shane says sarcastically.
I glower at Shane. “When I get Charlie back, I’m going to look for a new group of friends who will miss me and realize without me saying anything that I’m going through something traumatic.”
“No, you won’t.”
“You’re right. Too much work.” I turn back to the presentation to see where I left off. “Anyway, I started thinking about what I needed to apologize for, because there are multiple things. And I didn’t want to forget any, so I started writing them down. Before I knew it, I was jotting down ways to have her forgive me and all the things I could do for the rest of our lives to make up for it. Before I knew it, I was putting it into presentation form.”
“I’m impressed,” Oliver says. “But why do you need us?”
“You’ll see,” I say as I switch slides. “For starters, here are all the things I did that could be, and probably are, things I didn’t tell her I did since she came back into my life. Most of them having to do with the diner.”
“Holy shit, that’s a long list,” Wes says as he scooches forward on the couch, I’m guessing to see better.
“I didn’t know about the apartment,” Shane says.
“Oh, yes. Part of his grand ‘make sure she takes the restaurant’ plan,” Emmett says. “You forgot to put on there that you had it furnished before she arrived.”
“Thanks,” I say, making a note in my phone to add that.
“You fixed a leaky ceiling? Like with your hands?”
Emmett answers this one too. “No, he paid plumbers a shit-ton of money to fix it in a matter of hours. I had to burn a favor I wanted to hold onto.”
“Oh,” Wes says. “That makes more sense.”
“Why are mushrooms on there? Is that code for something?”
“Not important.” I say. “These offenses give you all the scope of all the things I’m apologizing for.”
I switch the slide, which features a picture of me hugging Charlie at her opening. “I wanted to share these all with you to show you that everything I did was, yes, in secret and without knowledge, but none were harmful or nefarious. They were all out of love. Just, my brand of love.”
“You still lied,” Shane said. “And don’t give me the bullshit about it was just an omission of truth.”
“Wasn’t going to,” I say. “I know I fucked up. This isn’t a get-together for y’all to convince me that I was in the wrong.”
“Then why are we here?”
“Because I need y’all to help me fix it.”
I switch to the next slide, aptly titled “I done fucked up. Help.”
“You’re an idiot,” Shane mutters.
“For once, I’m not going to argue,” I say, turning to the next slide. “Here are some of the ideas I have for her to forgive me.”
The guys read the list, which features such ideas as rent a plane to fly around town with a banner asking her forgiveness and good old-fashioned begging. That one comes with a lifetime promise for poopy diaper changes, foot rubs, and I’ll even open the diner three days a week.
Yup. I’d get up at five in the morning. That’s how sorry I am.
“Could you really hire a skywriter?” Oliver asks.
“I know a guy.”
“Why isn’t just talking to her on there?” Wes asks. “I feel like that should be the winner.”
“Because it’s not a grand gesture,” I say. “Plus, what would I say?”
“That you’re an idiot.”
“That you fucked up.”
“That you want to apologize.”
“That you want to propose to her.”
We all stare at Oliver for that last one. “Really? That’s where your mind went?”
He shrugs. “Old habits.”
“I know I need to talk to her,” I say. “The problem is that she won’t talk to me. So I have to do something big to even get that going.”
“How do you know?” Shane asks.
“I’ve called and texted with no response. It was a familiar feeling. I tried to go to the restaurant each morning, but I’m told she isn’t there or just flat-out ignored.”
“Okay,” Oliver says. “While these ideas are great, they really are, I think you might be going a little too grand.”
“Is there such a thing?”
“Simon,” Wes says, gesturing for me to sit next to him. “You’re new to this. You’ve never been in a relationship, let alone asked a woman to forgive you.”
I start to say something before Shane stops me. “And no. Asking for forgiveness after you called a woman the wrong name doesn’t count.”
Damn.
“What Wes is trying to say,” Oliver says, “is this isn’t something you can buy your way out of. Or do something flashy that will distract her from the problem. That’s what got you in this mess in the first place.”
“Damn…” I say out loud as that nugget of truth sinks in. “You’re right.”
“So, knowing that, what can you do that shows her that not only are you sorry, but that you truly understand why she’s upset?”
I quickly open my mouth but Oliver shakes his head. “No. Think about it. Really think about it.”
I follow his directions. He’s right. I need to focus on the problem. The real problem.
“Money and the diner,” I say confidently. “If I were to pinpoint the biggest issues, it’s those.”
“What about them?” Wes asks.
“Charlie hates feeling like she’s been given a handout. Hell, even the things she knew I did for her she wasn’t thrilled with.”
“He’s right,” Emmett said. “I came in and helped her with a leaky sink, and she felt bad. It was literally just tightening the pipe.”
“Exactly,” I say. “Money has always been a weird thing between us. I never cared how much she did or didn’t have, but I know when we first met I was the rich frat boy and she was the college kid who had to work full time just to make it. And I think she still feels like that. Scratch that, I know she does.”
“Does she know how hard you work?” Shane asks. “I hate to give you a compliment, but you fucking bust your ass when it comes to your job.”
“Thanks,” I say, taking in the rare compliment from Shane without a quick retort. “I didn’t talk much about work with her or what I did. I didn’t want it to slip about the diner.”
“Well, she needs to know,” Emmett says. “Hell, you closed on a two-million-dollar sale last week. You’re damn good at what you do, and I’m proud to work for you. Well, except the lying shit. I’ll never do that again.”
“And I’ll never ask you to.” It’s right then, an idea comes to me. “But I do know what you can do.”
“What’s that?”
“Go to the office, get me the lease to the diner.”
“Okay, what for?”
“Just go. But then come back. You can join us then.”
I turn to my friends with a smile on my face. They aren’t smiling. They look terrified. “Join us doing what?” Shane asks.
“We’re putting together a nursery.”