Chapter 10 #4
She shakes her head, clearly not understanding that I finally have clarity, after struggling to remember the name of this freakin’ movie on my walk home.
My generous roommate drapes a blanket over both of us, in preparation for Gracie to transition from a demoted FBI agent to beauty queen in one short montage.
Unexpectedly, the hole I once felt earlier this evening feels a little less profound, as we watch a pageant contestant befriend the abrasive, very unladylike Gracie.
In the long run, the undercover agent foils the copycat terrorist's plan and even bags the cute guy; all in four-inch heels. How is it that Andrea has managed to dupe me into watching not one, but two Sandra Bullock movies in the past week? Just as Gracie’s superior was about to pull the plug on the whole mission, I knew what I had to do.
Andrea extended an olive branch, so I needed to give her the same courtesy.
I all but blurt out… “I’m involved with someone.”
Robotically, she reaches forward, grabs the remote, and clicks off the movie. Not paused, just off. Her head swivels toward me; she pushes a few silver strands behind her ear and simply glares at me. “Pardon me, I think my best friend just dropped news so big, my brain malfunctioned.”
A nervous laugh bubbles out of me. I push my back against the side armrest of the couch, facing her fully.
“I’m pretty sure I would know if you were dating someone. You know how nosy I can be,” she admits while also giving me a light shove on the shoulder.
“I didn’t say dating. I said involved.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?” Her head turns at an angle that reminds me of a dog trying to figure out why you're not also offering them food as you eat.
“No. It’s way different!” I pull my legs into a crossed position. “It’s kind of complicated. He’s kind of my boss. Well, he is my boss, but it might not necessarily—”
Her head turns in the other direction, still just as befuddled. “Connor? I thought he was gay.”
What? “No. Connor? I actually don’t know his sexual orientation. Plus, Connor’s not my boss.”
She holds her palm out, encouraging me to continue.
“Eamon. I actually didn’t even know he owned the bar up until recently. He’s interesting. Devilishly handsome and also funny at times. He calls me little fish and…”
Andrea looks sick. Her eyes look toward me, but it feels more like she’s looking through me.
“Hey. Are you okay? You look like you're not feeling too well.”
She stands suddenly and starts to pace the small area in front of Thelma’s tank. Is she pissed?
I try to turn back the clock. “I know I should have mentioned something sooner, but it’s new and we really haven’t even officially been on a date yet.
I think it’s an awkward stage.” Mostly because I’m not sure if I can trust him.
Is it possible that Eamon is the one who left the earbud, like my uncle suggested?
Is he capable of playing multiple roles?
Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut or told her something less impactful like, I had a delicious pastrami on rye today!
If it’s not some banal thing, it is monumental.
At least as of late. Everything from my ex-manager expecting some kind of sexual favor in the backroom of Star Mart, to the returning earbud that transmits cryptic music, and even learning my new managerial position is more permanent than I initially thought, because Cassie actually died!
My roommate finally halts her parading, after practically burning a hole in one of the Persian rugs we got last summer. “What about Brodi?!”
Wow. That’s the last thing I expected her to come back with. She never cared for him. As she continues, her voice becomes progressively louder. “What if he turns up? Aren’t you crazy about him still?!”
I am aghast... Andrea?! Making a case for Brodi? This week has been outlandish!
“Are you sure you're ready to be with someone again so soon?” Her voice turns softer while her words fall flat.
Things were strained between Brodi, and I before he disappeared.
I was the one forcing the square peg in the round hole.
Yes, I miss him, but I think I’m realizing I missed the old him.
If he showed up today, I would still be begging for his attention, even though he was the one that up and left.
This behavior was very unlike Andrea. Not aligned with the live for today mantra, she has attempted to instill in me over the past few months.
“You’re the one reminding me it’s been half a year. I never thought you’d be the one telling me to keep up hope. You thought he was a sleaze bag anyways.” I fired back.
She folds her arms, and I can’t help but notice the way her fist clenches.
Like when she’s ready to go, let it all out, on the punching bag in her room.
Her response isn’t sharp like mine. “Just… try to remember how you felt when he first disappeared. I think seeing someone so soon after him is a poor choice.”
I see red. I find myself standing the next second, my body language mirroring hers. “Says the girl who told me all about how she slept with her last three clients at work!” If she was able, I’m sure that piercing glare could shoot lasers through me. Shit.
Before I can even get out another word, she spins on her heel and slams the door to her bedroom.
Like any rationally unsettled person, I begin stress cleaning!
I fold blankets, fluff pillows, and even store the remaining candy within multiple Ziplock bags.
When I’m done, I say goodnight to Thelma before dropping in two small grasshoppers.
Andrea’s room has faint snapping sounds coming from the other side.
I can’t help but rest my ear against the door.
The sound grows into louder pops and cracks.
She is definitely getting good use out of that punching bag.
I back away, returning to my side of the apartment and close myself in my room.
I feel like a cruel friend. Not only am I not being forthcoming about what is actually going on with me, but now I need to apologize on top of it!
It’s not my business who she sleeps with, but she can’t judge me for trying to move on.
I need to sleep. Tomorrow requires me to operate heavy machinery.
I am not looking forward to the long drive to the Catskills, to watch my parents’ dog Kingston.
I’m drowning in thoughts as I lie in bed.
Playing with feasible outcomes and scenarios based on choices I simply didn’t make.
The limitless possibilities fill me up until I sink to the bottom.
I can’t swim. It’s too much and none of it makes any sense.
My hearing aids are on the charger, but it’s never silent.
The resonating sound in my head matches the waves of light, momentarily painting my ceiling in amber tones, as cars pass by on the streets below.
Why? I wonder. Why wasn’t it me? My brother was incredible.
Never doubted himself. He would have used these past few years to make a difference.
He was stronger. Smarter. Just… better. It should have been me.
Sleep eventually finds me, but I wish I would never wake up.