Chapter 1 #2
A card. Etiquette dictates that all gifts should come with a card. Annie moved quietly into the den, where she knew Caroline kept a box of blank cards. Back in the kitchen, she expeditiously scrawled a note across the linen paper.
Welcome home, Caroline!
I saw these flowers, and they made me think of you and that perfect shade of pink lipstick you love. Too bad you’re such a FUCKING CUNT! I saw everything. FUCK YOU. Fuck that bitch you brought into our bed. And fuck off. We’re done. Please don’t call me.
xoxo,
Annie
A twisted grin curled its way across her lips as her hand moved feverishly across the paper while still maintaining her neat penmanship. Annie’s chest heaved with a mixture of white-hot anger and the absolute pleasure of knowing that she was the one getting the final, and only, words.
With a harder-than-needed final flourish of her hand while signing her name, Annie set the pen down and propped the card up next to the vase. She detached the silver key from her key ring, the one she and Caroline had gone to make together only a few days ago, and set it on the counter.
“Yes! Yes! Fuck me!” came the muffled cries from directly above Annie—her cue to get the fuck out of there.
She hurried to the back door, grabbing her overnight bag, slinging it over her shoulder before exiting.
Outside in the yard, the sounds of Caroline’s impending orgasm followed Annie through the open bedroom window directly above her.
Caroline’s pitchy, breathy chant of “Don’t stop.
Don’t stop. Don’t stop” filled Annie’s ears, accompanied by that overwhelming feeling of nausea as the sight of Caroline riding someone else’s strap flashed across her eyelids, forever burned into her brain.
“I’m coming!” Caroline’s gasp reached Annie all the way across the yard as she fumbled the latch on the gate, only now realizing that her hands were shaking.
The nausea swelled again, this time consuming her completely as Annie doubled over, spilling the contents of the twenty-two-dollar salad she had for lunch all over the brick pavers.
When she finally stopped retching, she straightened herself, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, taking a deep breath.
She looked back at the row home one more time before making her way down the alley.
She walked a few blocks back in the direction of the metro station she had come from not even fifteen minutes ago—had it really only been fifteen minutes? Time was funny like that; Annie could have sworn it had been hours, but a quick check of her phone told her otherwise.
“Fuck,” she grumbled under her breath, sliding onto a bench and not even caring that the back of her thighs, already slick with sweat, were now touching the hot metal bench, making the feeling that much worse.
“Fuck,” she said again, this time softer as the bigness of what just happened settled over her. “Fuck,” she whispered.
Annie looked around, blinking away hot tears.
Nope. There would be no crying in public today.
She needed a minute to pull herself together and figure out what came next.
She shook out her arms as she stood, straightening her skirt and reaching for her bag once more as she took another deep breath. She could do this.
People break up all the time. You’ll be fine, Annie reassured herself as she ducked into the corner store—the one she and Caroline had a habit of visiting for late-night snacks or to pick up a bottle of cheap champagne for Lazy Girl Brunch.
She made her way directly to the drink coolers in search of a Diet Coke, then took a left down the candy aisle, deciding that if there ever was a time for Cow Tales, now was it.
Damn, that perfectly chewy, caramel creme deliciousness—comfort candy—was exactly what she needed.
“Do you want to buy a PowerPot ticket?” the college-age kid behind the counter asked her as Annie set down her items. “The jackpot prize is up to something like $75 million.”
Annie scoffed. “Do I look like someone who gambles?”
“Oh, sorry, I literally ask anyone who comes in,” he said apologetically. “It’d be pretty cool to win that much money, right?” he continued, scanning her drink and candy.
Guilt washed over Annie as she realized how snappy she had come off. “I’m sorry,” she said hastily. “I didn’t mean to snap at you like that.” Her shoulders sank as she rested one hand on the counter. “I’ve had a pretty shitty day, but that’s not an excuse.”
The kid waved off her apology, making Annie feel the tiniest bit better. “I recognize you. Baked and Blasted, right?” he said as he put her items into a bag.
Annie blushed furiously, wondering if he had clocked all the times she and Caroline had come into the store stoned and in search of munchies. “Uh—”
“Ice cream. You and that other girl—the pretty brunette—usually come in together. She always gets Banana Panic, and you get Baked and Blasted.”
“Oh,” Annie said, realization setting in. “Yeah, I guess we do usually do that.”
Did.
The word echoed in her mind, reminding her that things with Caroline no longer belonged in the present tense. “Did that,” Annie corrected. “She and I broke up.” The words felt foreign and uncomfortable as they left her mouth.
“Bummer, dude. She was hot.”
Annie couldn’t help laughing because it had been the first thing she had thought about Caroline McHenry the first time she saw her, too.
“She is, isn’t she?” She paused, holding back what she really wanted to say before ultimately deciding, what the heck?
“She’s currently at our house fucking another woman, thinking I have no idea. ”
A nervous, astonished smile pulled at the corner of the kid’s mouth as he handed Annie her bag of items. “That’s fucked. This one’s on me.”
Annie took the bag from him, smiling in appreciation.
“She comes in here most mornings for a breakfast sandwich. Want me to accidentally switch her turkey sausage to full-fat sausage?”
Annie considered him for a moment. “You know what, yeah. That would make me feel better.”
“Oh, and look at that… We no longer stock Banana Panic ice cream.” He smiled sweetly at her across the counter.
“Thank you,” Annie said softly, a smile returning to her face. “Thanks for making my day just a little bit better.”
“Any time,” the kid said, giving a tiny salute as Annie left the store.
After a reshuffle of her belongings, one Cow Tale tucked safely away for later, the other unwrapped in her hands, and after taking a swig of Diet Coke, Annie whipped out her phone, looking up the number for the moving company set to deliver her belongings to Caroline’s house the following morning.
“Hi,” she said sweetly to the woman on the other end. “I need to update where my belongings are going. How much will it cost to have them taken to 7 Jacob’s Lane, Wellington Point, CT?”
After a little bit of back and forth and some tough haggling, Annie ended the call, already feeling relieved having one big item checked off her list. On to the next.
Ten minutes later, she had secured herself a one-way first-class flight from D.C. to Hartford, CT, leaving in a few short hours. She called a car to take her to the airport, and as she slid into the back seat, she didn’t even look back as the Washington, D.C. skyline disappeared behind her.
“Hey,” she said into the phone, holding it close to her ear.
Her older brother Andrew’s nervous voice greeted her. “Annie, hey, um—everything okay?”
“Can’t I call my brother from time to time to chat without there needing to be something wrong?” she asked, flexing her hand out in front of her, examining her fingernails.
“You can, but you don’t.”
He wasn’t wrong. She and Andrew weren’t exactly close, not in the way she and her younger brother Austin were. But Austin was off somewhere in some obscure part of the world, doing doctor things, as he called it.
“I need you to pick me up at the airport tonight.”
“Hartford or New Haven?” Andrew asked and Annie, for once, was thankful for his no-nonsense, no-questions-asked approach to life.
“Hartford,” she answered.
“You sure everything’s okay?”
Annie chewed her lip, debating whether she should tell Andrew about the breakup or not. Part of her was tempted never to tell anyone exactly what had happened. But she knew that wasn’t realistic. However, it did not make the truth any less embarrassing.
“Caroline cheated on me.” She surprised herself with how calm her voice sounded and how it conflicted so starkly with the pain currently twisting its way through her stomach.
“And I don’t want to talk about it. And please do not tell anyone.
I just—I need to figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do next.
” She watched the outlines of marble monuments zoom past her window as the car crossed the river, heading in the direction of the airport and away from the city she had called home for her twenties. “I’m coming home, Andrew.”