Chapter 10
SUMMER
“This show is so toxic.” Julia stuffs a handful of buttered popcorn in her mouth.
I watch Stephen fabricate another half-truth to get his way with Lucy.
“That’s why I love it. Makes me feel better about my life.” I cross my cozy, sock-covered ankles and wrap an arm behind my head to look over at her. She’s cringing at the TV screen before she inhales another bite.
“Isn’t that the truth.”
Tell Me Lies has become our Friday night routine ever since I moved in.
I know what a sacrifice it is for her to watch this show with me, and I appreciate her for it.
Evenings are her only time to recharge. I make myself scarce as much as possible, but having friends with busy lives and a bank account that’s draining without a job, it’s a lot smarter to stay in.
My phone vibrates against the couch cushion. I snatch it up, expecting it to be a recruiter for one of the jobs I applied for. I turned on my LinkedIn notifications earlier even though it’s the weekend tomorrow. I’m desperate to hear back from someone.
It’s not a recruiter. It’s a text message from the same unknown number that called me earlier today.
EVERETT: When were you going to tell me that Henry isn’t your son?
I sit up with a start.
“What’s wrong?” Julia presses pause on the remote.
“Rhett just found out I’m not Henry’s mom.” I cover my mouth with my hands.
“What do you mean just found out? How long have you been co-opting my kid?”
I look over at her with wide eyes.
“Wow,” she says with an expression I can’t read.
If it were from anyone else it would roll right off my back, but I admire Julia’s opinion of me too much. She’s better in every way, and it stings when the maturity gap between us feels a football field apart. I pivot my body so my feet touch the carpet.
I must look defensive because she adds, “I’m just surprised Henry didn’t tell him already, that’s all. You know his attention to detail.”
Surprised. That’s a better adjective than disappointed or angry.
The moment this afternoon when Henry corrected Quinn for calling a grasshopper a ladybug flashes through my mind. Julia’s right. Henry’s quick to tell it like it is. How did he not blurt this out at Quinn’s birthday party?
I gasp.
“What now?”
“No, that’s it! Henry asked me to take that picture of him in the box fort for you at the same moment Quinn’s grandmother, Caroline, showed up. She must have overheard Henry and told Rhett.”
“This Caroline gal sounds like a real meddler.”
You have no idea. After she arrived, she told me I was no longer needed today. Like a maid she could dismiss as she pleased. I left without a scene because I didn’t want to ruin my chance of spending more time with Quinn.
I know I made up the nanny job on the spot, and then questioned what I was thinking after it spilled out of my mouth, but today was the best day I’ve had in a long time.
I think Julia might be right. I’d be a good fit as Quinn’s nanny if Rhett ever offered me the job.
But I’m pretty certain any potential in that scenario just launched into the sky and combusted upon atmospheric impact.
I perch on the edge of the couch, leaning on my knees and staring at the screen. “What do I say back?”
She tosses another handful of popcorn in her mouth. “The truth.”
“Right.” It felt nice to pretend for a while is honest. I type the reply and watch the bubbles appear and disappear and reappear again while chewing on my bottom lip.
What if he’s mad?
I should have made a joke instead. That’s the kind of relationship Rhett and I have. He dishes out blunt honesty, and I make light of the situation.
EVERETT: Whose kid is it?
SUMMER: My best friend, Julia’s. The one I live with.
EVERETT: Did you borrow her wedding ring too?
My eyes flare and then flash to the gold band on my finger.
I never took it off.
And he noticed it. How have I not noticed it?
It’s been there since the day Brian put it on my hand.
His BSU fraternity hosted a Halloween party off campus.
I was invited to attend by a coworker I waited tables with.
Some people might have been turned off by the last-minute notice or the costume dress code.
I’d never been one to say no to a good time or a challenge.
With scissors and a hot glue gun, I transformed a tea-length white dress, tulle skirt, and headband into a runaway bride situation.
My outfit turned half a dozen heads at the party.
It wasn’t until Brian said You’re missing something, that I paid attention.
He unfastened a gold chain from around his neck and looped my finger with it several times.
Now you’re taken, he said.
How often has that worked on a girl? I asked.
You tell me.
The way he looked at me… I felt like the only person in the room. I wanted to be the only person in every room he was in.
It didn’t matter that it wound well past my knuckle and made it impossible to bend my finger.
When you’re young and infatuated with someone, you do stupid things.
All that mattered was that he wanted me to have it.
And that after six inseparable weeks, he had it melted down and asked me to wear it for the rest of my life.
Why, after everything he wanted in our divorce, did he never ask for it back?
“My ring is still on.” My thumb and pointer finger remain touching it as I look up at Julia.
“I thought you’d take it off when you were ready.
” The sad look on her face is something I don’t feel.
I don’t let myself feel it. My marriage is over.
If Everett wants honesty, that’s the truth.
Forgetting a ring on my finger won’t change that.
I jerk it off and throw it across the room.
It bounces off the stone fireplace, landing on the carpet.
I hate this gray cloud that looms over me whenever I think about Brian, so I go back to what feels comfortable.
SUMMER: No need to borrow it from her when we’re in a polyamorous relationship.
EVERETT: Do you ever take anything seriously?
SUMMER: I buy T-shirts with mediocre singers on them, remember?
Does he remember? It’s the first reference I’ve made to that night. I really wish we were talking on the phone during this conversation and not over text when he doesn’t reply. I don’t know what he’s thinking. But honesty was Julia’s advice. So, I text him again.
SUMMER: I’m kidding. I just went through a divorce.
If I wondered what he thought of me before that text, I’m desperate now.
Once people know that information, they put me in one of two camps: I didn’t try hard enough, or I should have never married him to begin with.
Either way, both indicate failure in a relationship that meant a great deal to me, whether or not it was difficult to endure at times.
With parents who have been married several decades, I grew up believing in the sanctity of commitment. I may have rushed into a life with Brian, but I had no intention of abandoning our union when times felt hard. Something I believed we both had in common up until I was served papers.
EVERETT: I’m sorry to hear that. And I’m sorry about Caroline.
His apology is appreciated. I should have anticipated it would change the subject from our night at the concert.
I hate that I want him to remember it as much as I do.
Feel the electricity that’s only grown stronger for me since then.
But he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, and I can’t blame him when all this time he thought I was married.
SUMMER: The bossy lady with the authority complex? She melted under my smile.
EVERETT: I’m sure she did.
EVERETT: Thank you for today.
SUMMER: Anytime.
I stare at my phone screen for who knows how long after that before finally looking up. Julia has reclined her chair and twisted it toward me as if I’m the show.
“What?”
“You’re blushing,” she says.
I toss a throw pillow at her. She catches it before it flops in her face.
“Has he forgiven you?”
“I think so? He thanked me for helping him today, but—” I cringe. “If we’re keeping to the honesty trend, I told him you and I are in a polyamorous relationship.”
She tosses the pillow back at me. It knocks me square in the chest. “Summer!”
“What? He’s too uptight.” Didn’t used to be, I want to add, but I don’t tell her that part. I gave Julia vague details after I left him the night of the concert. I had to explain why I came back with a cowboy hat instead of a trucker one.
“I’m sure one flick of your wrist and he’ll be unraveling in the palm of your hand.”
“Jeez, Julia. He sounds like a yo-yo.”
“I just meant, you’re incredibly charming when you want to be. I’m sure he’s already discovered that about you.” She yawns and folds in the footrest of her recliner.
“We haven’t finished the episode yet!”
“I have an exam on Monday and a five o’clock alarm set for the morning to study for it,” she says.
“Fine. But we’re finishing this tomorrow.” I point a finger at her.
“Can’t wait to see what train wreck Stephen has for me then.”
I snort. “I’m gonna stay up for a while, but you can turn the light off.”
She winks. “Sure thing. Good night.”
“Good night,” I say.
I lie awake waiting—hoping—for another text from Rhett as I replay our conversation.
As much as I should have told him about Henry sooner, I don’t regret it.
My time spent with both him and Quinn might be the closest I ever come to feeling like a mom.
For that reason alone, it was nice playing pretend for a while.
It’s close to midnight when my phone light blocks the gray shadows of tree branches dancing across the living room wall.
I get my hopes up for a second until I realize it’s a message on LinkedIn: Summer, I got your application.
I know this is last minute, but would you be available for an interview at 8 a.m. tomorrow morning?
I click on her picture. The app takes me to her profile page.
Emma Dawson, J.D., Senior Associate at Ford Law
I got the interview at the law practice, and the attorney is Rhett Dawson’s sister.