35. Charlie
When I opened the diner, I had hopes that someone would want to use my space for parties or showers.
Who knew the first one would be mine?
Everyone I love is here. Connor brought Lila down so she could be part of this, though she was upset when she found out Jayce wasn’t here. She quickly got over it when Magnolia took her under her wing. People from the town whom I’ve come to love, including my Dice Gal Gang. All of Simon’s sisters are here, well, except Quinn. Simon’s mom is the master of ceremonies. She, along with Whitley, Betsy, Izzy, and Amelia, planned every detail of this. Mellie coordinated all of the food. They told me all I needed to do was show up.
Which is what I did.
I showed up. I planted a smile on my face. And I’m pretending everything is okay.
Even though it’s not.
I keep looking at the door, waiting for Simon to walk in. Because he would. He knows this shower is women only—Amelia was very clear with him on that fact—but he wouldn’t care. He’d come in, likely carrying some extravagant gift or bouquet of flowers, and everyone would “ooh” and “ah” over him. I’d roll my eyes because of his antics, but I’d also secretly love them in the same breath. He’d come over to me, place his hand on my now very large baby belly and give me a soft kiss.
It would be perfect.
I suck in a breath, fighting away the tears. I can’t cry. Not today. Not in front of my family and friends and right before we’re about to open presents.
“Oh my God, Mellie!” Stella says with half a cupcake in her mouth. “These cupcakes are to die for. Oh my God! There’s an actual strawberry in this!”
Mellie smiles at the compliment. “You’re too kind.”
“No. You don’t understand.” Stella says as she stuffs the rest of the strawberry cupcake into her mouth. “I have looked all over Nashville, and really, all of Middle Tennessee, for cupcakes for my wedding. And nothing has come close to this.”
“You haven’t tried her cookies and cream cupcakes yet,” I say. “I’d do dirty things for one of those.”
Stella dabs the corner of her mouth before linking her arms through Mellie’s. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“To talk details of how I can hire you to make every cake, cupcake, and cookie for my wedding.”
I smile as I watch Simon’s youngest sister lead Mellie to an empty table. From the few interactions I’ve had with Stella, the woman sees what she wants and doesn’t take no for an answer. Which means Mellie is about to have the biggest order of her life, and she’s not going to be sure how she agreed to it. Stella has this way of getting what she wants with a smile on her face, and not chipping a nail. I don’t know how she does it.
“Hey, have you eaten?”
I turn to see Amelia standing next to me, holding a heaping plate of a little bit of everything that is being served.
“I’m good.”
I tried to say that with confidence. Amelia clearly isn’t believing me.
“How about we eat anyway.” She sits down next to me, handing me a fork. “We have about ten minutes to recover from the games before it’s time for presents. Which means you have to be in smiley, happy mode. You need all the protein, carbs, and sugar you can get.”
I laugh. “Why did I agree to games again? They exhausted me more than I thought.”
“Because we put the two sorority girls Betsy and Whitley in charge of activities. You know if Izzy and I were in charge, it would be food, then presents, then a see-you-later.”
I laugh as I take a big bite of the mushroom and cheese omelet. And as quickly as the laugh comes, it dies in my chest.
Because that’s where I hurt the most.
Simon and the fucking mushrooms…
“Hey,” Amelia says, realizing my swift change in demeanor. “You okay?”
I shake my head, and before I know it, Amelia is taking my arm and leading me back through the kitchen and up to the apartment I’ve been staying in this week.
“Sit down,” she says gently, handing me a tissue. I do my best not to cry—Whitley worked too hard on my makeup for me to cry it away—but a few sneak out.
“I don’t know why I’m crying,” I say. “I’ve been good all day.”
“You miss him. You’re allowed to be sad about that.”
Thank goodness all of the women knew what was happening without me needing to tell them. Simon’s family doesn’t know. Which is how I wanted it. We didn’t need anything awkward today.
“I’ve never been more confused about feelings,” I say.
“Have you reached out? Has he?”
“I know he’s come by. I’ve hidden from him.” I catch a leaked tear with a tissue. “I know we need to talk. But I’m so confused I don’t know what to say. Because I miss him. But I’m mad at him. I don’t want to say the wrong thing. And I want to say all the things. I don’t want tempers or emotions to get in the way. And then what if we say everything, and we’re not on the same page? There are so many what-ifs that I won’t know until I talk to him, but at the same time I’d like to know them before we talk. Does that make sense?”
“It does.”
“And worst of all, what if he’s not ready to talk to me?”
“He’s ready.”
Amelia and I turn to Izzy, who’s standing at the door of the apartment.
“How do you know?”
Izzy walks in and hands me the long, yet narrow, gift-wrapped box. “Because of this.”
I look at it, but don’t dare start to unwrap it. “What is it?”
Izzy shrugs. “That I don’t know. All I know is that Simon showed up at my doorstep this morning—banging on the door and interrupting a very good orgasm by the way—to ask Oliver to wrap this present.”
Amelia laughs. “He did not.”
“Oh, he did,” Izzy says. “He at least brought coffee.”
I laugh. “Sounds about right.”
“He wouldn’t tell us what it was. He just asked me to give this to you. I was going to wait until the end of the shower, you know, in case it was something very Simon-esque that wouldn’t be appropriate to open in front of children or his mother, but I’m guessing in light of the circumstances of the week, and that the men were over at his house last night until two in the morning, that he’s ready to talk.”
I have to blink a few times. “Two in the morning?”
“Yeah,” Amelia says. “I didn’t even hear Shane come in. And before I left for this today, he did mumble that you’re too good for Simon and to run. Which in Shane speak means you’re in and the guys approve.”
“Wow,” I say, looking down at the box. I want to open it, but I also don’t know what will happen when I do. Will I laugh? Cry? Want to leave my shower immediately? “What do I do?”
“Whatever you want,” Amelia says, patting my knee. “We’ll go back down and stall. You take all the time you need.”
I say thank you to both of them as they leave me in the apartment, holding a box. A long, not normally shaped box. It’s light. I know it’s not, but the only thing I can think that would fit in here is a magic wand.
It better not be a fucking wand…
“Fuck it,” I say, my curiosity getting the best of me. I rip open the paper and take off the lid to find a note laying on top of the tissue paper.
Miss Bennett,
I have gotten word from my property manager, Emmett Collins, that you are unhappy with your rental agreement for the property known as Mona’s, located at 382 Main Street, Rolling Hills, Tennessee.
If you’d like to discuss your lease going forward, I’d be happy to meet with you this afternoon. I’ve been told you are otherwise engaged this morning. I am free the rest of the day, and all the days after this, at my home office. I believe you have the address.
Hope to see you then.
Best,
Simon Banks
P.S.: I don’t know how I made it fifteen years without you because this past week has been absolute hell. I love you and miss you. I hope your shower is the best ever.
Rest in peace, my makeup.
I tear through the tissue paper, but all I see is a rolled piece of paper. I flatten it, only to see that it’s not just any piece of paper—it’s a bank statement.
A statement for an account that currently has twenty-one thousand dollars in it.
What are you up to, Simon?