Chapter 6
Chapter Six
SCOTTIE
Scottie: What the actual fuck, Mika? Ooo, take my brother, he can do it, he can be your knight in shining armor. Uh, here’s a not-so-low-key update, he just made this situation a whole lot more complicated.
“Knock, knock,” I hear Ellison say as she walks into my office, looking extremely giddy, like she has a secret she wants to divulge. I quickly stash my phone to the side and smile back at her.
“Hey, Ellison.”
“Now, I don’t want to pry, because it’s none of my business, but…how did it go?”
None of her business, but then she goes and asks how it went. Make that make sense.
“It was great,” I say, plastering on a happy smile. “Sanders was just what we needed.”
Ellison fist-pumps the air. “I knew he would be. I’m telling you, he’s amazing. Not what you’re expecting when it comes to a marriage counselor, but I think that’s what makes his approach so unique.”
You can say that again. Talking to him felt like I was signing up for a team sport at the local YMCA. Makes me highly question the validity of his degree.
“Yes, very unique,” I say. “But it worked. Actually, I need to talk to you about something. Sanders was saying there’s a marriage summer camp?—”
“Did you sign up for it?” She’s practically bouncing.
“Uh, yeah, we did. I hope that’s okay.”
Ellison claps her hands. “Oh, that’s wonderful.”
“Yeah, but, uh, Sanders says you don’t use vacation time for it. Is that true?”
She nods. “As you must know, we truly value the relationships our employees have, so we allow any time off to build and mend those relationships. So yes, you can have the time off.”
“Wow, okay. That’s very generous of you. Is it okay that I didn’t give much notice?”
“Yes, most of the guys in the office will be going as well, so there won’t be much going on here.”
Uh…what?
“The, uh, the office is going?” I ask, tugging on the end of my hair.
“Yup, they do every year, and it’s tradition at this point. Great time for rejuvenation. I’ll be there as well. We caravan up to the Catskills, if that’s something you’re interested in, but I’m not going to pressure you, given how sensitive your relationship is at the moment.”
Is that the nice way of putting it? Sensitive?
If using that term allows me to avoid any sort of direct, unnecessary interaction with the Brads and Chad, then by all means, let’s eat up the term.
“Thanks, yeah, I think Wilder and I will probably just drive up by ourselves.”
“Wilder.” She hugs her hands to her chest. “That’s his name?”
I will seriously never get over this marriage obsession of hers. It’s so weird.
“Yes, that’s his name,” I say with a curt smile.
“How did you two meet?”
What happened to not prying?
“At a bar. His brother is actually the bartender, and we just happened to bump into each other, and we hit it off.”
“Meant to be.” She sighs. “Well, I won’t hold you up. You probably have a lot of things you want to get done before you take time off for the next eight days.”
My phone buzzes with a text on my desk, but I ignore it and center all my attention on my boss.
“Yes, I have a lot of editing I need to get done to make some deadlines.” Lies. I have about three articles that won’t take me very long, because Brad and Chad are basic bitches when it comes to their writing.
“Wonderful. Well, I’ll leave you to it. Can’t wait till Monday,” she says with a whole lot of gratuitous joy.
“Can’t wait.” I try to match her enthusiasm with a simple thumbs-up.
When she’s out of sight, I reach for my phone, hoping for a possible reprieve from this nightmare I created for myself, only to find a text from Wilder.
I sigh and lean back in my chair to read it.
Wilder: Been doing some research on this camp. I’m going to make a trip to Target and pick up some necessities. Anything you need?
Necessities? What could we possibly need?
Scottie: What kind of necessities?
Wilder: Bug spray for one. I need some sandals because I don’t ever wear them. I also need some swim trunks. Some new socks. Toothpaste. Probably a new toothbrush. Some word searches. A deck of cards. And it says not to bring any food, but I’m a dick if I don’t have a sweet at night when on “vacation.” Nerds Clusters are my jam.
Why do I find it so amusing that this emo, beanie-wearing wannabe actor is going to just go grab some socks from the local Target? He does not give off those kinds of vibes.
He’s very different from what I pictured in my head, and I refuse to think that’s a good thing.
Also, he likes Nerds Clusters?
We unfortunately have that in common.
Scottie: I’m good, I’ll probably head out this weekend and get some things for myself. But if you’re stocking up on Nerds Clusters, get me a pack too.
I almost don’t send it, because I don’t want him thinking we can bond over Nerds Clusters, but I also don’t want to be trapped in a cabin with him chewing on his own bag that I’ll have to share. The text was a risk I was willing to take.
Wilder: You like Nerds Clusters too?
God, I knew he’d be excited about that. Why do I feel like I know him already? I need to ask Mika about his brother, because they’re nothing alike. Mika is more jaded, rough around the edges, can be flamboyant at times but not so much that it’s blatantly obvious. He tends to look at the glass as half-empty most of the time and rarely has a positive outlook on life.
Whereas Wilder, he seems to have his rose-colored glasses on at all times.
Scottie: I do, and please don’t make this a thing between us. The only reason I said something is because I can search those out like a hound dog, and I’d rather not have one of my cabinmates see me hunched over on my bed, shoving cluster after cluster into my mouth.
Wilder: Cabinmates? Pips, you have one cabinmate, and it’s me.
I pause, reading his text. Uh, is he sure about that?
Scottie: What do you mean it’s you? I’m not sharing a cabin with the other wives? You know, like in a real summer camp?
Wilder: No. Didn’t you look at the brochure?
Scottie: Uh no, I just snatched one, hoping you wouldn’t grow attached to the idea of going. Boy, was I wrong.
Wilder: You should have looked at it. Of course it has the adult summer camp vibes, but each couple gets their own cabin… We’re going to have to share a bed.
I stare at the words, over and over again.
Share a bed.
With a stranger?
With a man I know nothing about?
I mean, what if…what if he snores? What if he, oh God, what if he’s one of those guys that gets wet dreams all the time?
Gasp, what if he sleeps naked?
Scottie: PAJAMAS! Get yourself pajamas! I refuse to sleep with a naked man. Actually, while you’re at Target, get an air mattress and extra blankets, because one of us is sleeping on it.
Wilder: You nervous to sleep with me?
Scottie: Uh, yeah!
Wilder: Why?
Why?
Seriously, has this man ever been in the likeness of society? He seems so oblivious to the most obvious things.
Scottie: Uh hello, I don’t know you. I don’t know if you’re going to roll over at one point and breathe your hot breath on me.
Wilder: Who’s to say I have hot breath?
Scottie: Everyone has hot breath in the morning. Also…are you a wet dream guy?
Wilder: I mean, I was when I was younger, can’t help that shit, but not anymore.
Scottie: Thank God for small miracles.
Wilder: It’ll be fine. I promise. I don’t snore. I keep to my side. Not to mention I brush my teeth, floss, and use mouthwash twice a day. Good dental hygiene over here.
Scottie: How do you know you don’t snore?
Wilder: The clinic down the street from me was doing sleep studies and needed some bodies to fill in; it was just one of those experiences I took advantage of. They told me I was an excellent sleeper, very unlike some of the people they study. Felt bad because I was boring to watch.
Scottie: Are you always doing random things? Is this a money thing?
Wilder: I don’t need the money. Seriously though, no need to worry on the sleeping thing, and I’ll be sure to give you plenty of privacy whenever you need it. The camp backs up to a forest, so I plan on going on a lot of walks. I have a bird book I’m going to bring with me so I can do some bird-watching in our off hours. I’m also excited to bust out my binoculars. It’s one of the very few things that I’ve spent good money on.
Curious, I type back a question, because why is he making it seem like money is not a thing to him?
Scottie: What other things did you spend money on?
Wilder: My house—a brownstone in Brooklyn. My binoculars. My computer—because that’s a necessity. A charcoal set for drawing. And a first-edition signed copy of Misery by Stephen King.
A brownstone? Did I read that right? Uhhh, have I completely misread this man? Not that money matters to me, but my brain starts to connect the dots. Is he…is he wealthy? Is that why he has all this time on his hands? I have questions for Mika.
Scottie: That’s all really random stuff.
Wilder: They’re all things that matter the most to me.
Scottie: Interesting. I feel like you can learn a lot about a person with such eclectic taste.
Wilder: And what did you learn?
Scottie: That if we met at a bar, we probably never would have hooked up.
Wilder: Ouch. LOL. But good to know. Well, I’m off. If you need anything, just let me know.
I don’t bother writing back; instead, I set my phone down and stare out at the pit in front of me.
Misery… Should I be worried?
“Is your brother a psychopath?” I ask as I take a seat at the bar.
Mika smirks and sets a napkin down. “He is not.”
“Then why are you smiling?” I point at his curved lips.
“Because I find it funny that you asked the moment you saw me. Knowing Wilder, you probably had quite the experience today.”
“Uh yeah, you could say that.” I reach over the bar and snag a bowl of pretzels before he can offer them to me. “You owe me a drink. Your best margarita.”
Mika pulls out a tumbler and starts pouring liquid in it as he asks, “What happened?”
“Oh, I don’t know. You just set me up with someone who didn’t read the instructions.”
Mika winces. “Did he go off script?”
“That’s one way to put it.” I pop a pretzel in my mouth and lay it out for him. “It was simple. Pretend to be my husband, fight with me, show that we’re not compatible, leave. But noooooo, that was too easy. Wilder needed to complicate things. He went in there, speaking praises of me, which of course had me needing to do the same so I didn’t come off as the ornery wench.”
“Did you?”
“Who knows.” I toss my hands in the air. “He played the ‘she doesn’t want kids’ card, which is a dirty hand to play. Oh, and speaking of hands, he held mine during the session and then after when we walked away.” I connect both of my hands in front of my face and shake them. “Held it.”
Mika starts shaking the tumbler on his right side. “So he made it seem like you two were happy and in love?”
“At first, but then we started fighting, and for a moment there, I thought, this is what I’m talking about. The insults, the blaming. I never felt more alive in my life than during that thirty-second spat, but then it was all squashed when Sanders, the therapist, said that we would be perfect for the marriage summer camp he’s putting on up in the Catskills.”
Mika is midpour of my drink when he pauses and looks up at me. “No, tell me you’re not going.”
I pop another pretzel in my mouth and say, “Oh, we’re going.”
“Fuck, seriously?”
“Uh-huh, paid for and everything. Which, by the way”—I sit taller—“not that it matters to me, but does he have money or something? Because he paid for that camp outright, called it a treat.”
A smirk crosses his lips, a very familiar one that I experienced today. “Scottie, he sold an app for a significant amount of money. He’s rich, hence the whole retirement, has-a-lot-of-time-on-his-hands kind of thing.”
“What?” I ask, shocked. “I thought he was an out-of-work actor.”
Laughing, Mika slides my drink onto the bar counter and then wipes his hand on a towel before flipping it over his shoulder. “Yeah, I don’t talk much about him or my family for that matter, other than some of the things you know. Should have informed you, especially about his current thirst for experiencing life. He heard the word ‘camp’ and you were instantly fucked.”
“Yeah, a minor detail, Mika. Jesus. You told me he was into improv, not some, I’m assuming, millionaire who is into using humans as real-life chess pieces.” I take a sip of my drink. “He picked up bug spray today. Freaking bug spray. Oh, and sandals, because apparently, he’s never worn those before.”
Mika thinks on it for a second. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in sandals.”
“I’ll take a picture for you,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I know this is my fault. I understand that. I’m not blind to my shortcomings, but by God, how hard is it to follow instructions?”
“Did you give him instructions though?” Mika asks.
“Yes,” I shout and then think on it, because Wilder questioned the same thing. “I mean, I told him what differences we had.”
Mika lifts his brow.
“And I asked him what his pretend job would be.”
“Did you tell him that you were in there to break up?”
I tap my chin, trying to recount the moments before we went into the office for our first therapy session. It all seems like a blur now. “Uh…”
“I’m going to take that as a no.” Mika leans over and boops me on the nose with his finger. “Seems like you didn’t set the scene for him.”
I groan and rest my head on the bar counter. “I didn’t set the scene,” I mumble into the wood.
“So he was probably just going for it, feeding off the situation, and now you’re stuck going to an eight-day summer camp with him.”
I groan even louder. “Why am I like this?”
“Because you are,” Mika says. “But I love you anyway.”
I sit up and take a large gulp of my margarita. After a few seconds of silence, I say, “He likes Nerds Clusters.”
“He does.”
“I like Nerds Clusters.”
“You do.”
I look into Mika’s eyes. “He’s buying some for our trip.”
“Because that’s the kind of guy he is. He’s the most humble rich fuck you will ever meet.” Mika winks and takes off down the bar to help another customer.