26. Darcy #2
“Um, maybe,” I said. But that had been over before it’d even started.
Why had I walked away from Lizzy? Why hadn’t I pushed harder?
Maybe I was hurt and frustrated with Lizzy’s quick assumption that I’d pressured Wills to end it with Jane, when that was not what I’d done.
But now, as things had unfolded, I wondered if I was wrong about more than Jane’s character.
Lashana peered up at me wisely. “Someone from the show?”
They gave each other looks I couldn’t decipher. I wondered if they were speechlessly considering all the women on that weekend and trying to narrow it down.
“Sorry, can’t say,” I said.
Lashana furrowed her brow at me, annoyed now.
“Ooookaaaay.” She gave a long-suffering sigh and a martyred look.
“We’re still going to help you.” Again, she wordlessly consulted her council, and after a considered amount of time, one by one, they each nodded at her as if they’d come to a unanimous decision.
“You should make her a bracelet with your digits on it and give it to her.”
Where did they come up with this stuff?
“Hmm,” I murmured.
“If that doesn’t work, you have to call her on the megaphone.”
“Like a speakerphone?” Why? Was it a public humiliation thing? So they could all hear her answer?
Lashana groaned as if in pain, and the other girls looked agape at one another. Yeah, he might be a lost cause.
“No. It’s a metaphor,” she said, painfully slowly.
I must have looked completely clueless. I thought I knew about metaphors, but still, I didn’t get it.
“You didn’t learn about metaphors at school? We’re only thirteen, and we know them. It’s a figure of speech stating one is the other.”
I nodded my understanding. God, Lizzy would crack up over this exchange.
She’d be laughing at me so hard, and I’d love seeing her get a kick out of it.
I’d love seeing her, period. I wished she were here.
I wished I could tell her this silly story tonight when I got home from work.
I wished things hadn’t gotten so muddled between us.
Lizzy. My heart ached so hard I could barely breathe. Another thing I’d mucked up.
“Calling her on the megaphone means you need to put yourself out there so everyone can hear you,” Lashana explained. “Be vulnerable and, you know, be willing to make a fool of yourself in front of loads of people. That’s metal as hell.”
“Oh, I see.” Suddenly, I felt old and out of touch.
“You have to let everyone in the world know you like her and you want to go on a date with her.”
“Okay, thanks. I’m feeling a little inadequate here. I’m supposed to be the adult one here, giving advice.”
“No woz. I give my aunt advice too, and she loves it.”
“I’ll bet she does.”
“Let me know how you get on,” Lashana said, going back to her friendship bracelet.
What did I think about putting myself out there for Lizzy?
What was stopping me? Was I unsure of my feelings for her?
No, what I felt for her was so overpowering my chest hurt.
Was it her rejection? After our argument, she’d said she needed time.
It hadn’t been a hard line drawn. But if she could truly never forgive me and go on to return my feelings, I couldn’t imagine how I could climb out of that.
Was that why I was keeping myself in this terrible limbo, not contacting her, not trying again? Better not to know and wonder, wallow in my pain, than to be certain I would never see her again.
I swiped the perspiration from my forehead. “Seriously, no one wants to play soccer?”
“Not right now,” came a call from the corner.
“I want to finish this,” said someone else. “In a while.”
“C’mon, everyone. Let’s go outside and play,” Otis said. “Poor Mr. Mint hasn’t got anything better to do than to play soccer with us, so best we humor him, eh?”
One of the teachers stepped forward. “Hey Otis, do you think it might be a good idea to lay off Darcy? Little bit cheeky.”
“He’s fine.” He was being a little cheeky, but I didn’t want the kids to tiptoe around me.
We played soccer for an hour, and for the first time in the day, I felt slightly alive.
Kids were awesome. Why had I lied at the Amor Inn when Nala had asked me whether I wanted kids and a wife? I’d always wanted kids. Maybe it was that I craved a do-over of my own bleak childhood, too much responsibility and not enough affection, or maybe I simply loved their honesty and energy.
But first, clearly, I had to find someone and make her that bracelet.
Give her my digits. And call her on the megaphone.
My personality wasn’t remotely megaphone, but I had to suck it up.
I’d found someone, but what was I doing to win her back except mope around and wait and feel sorry for myself and annoyed and irritated with everyone else who wasn’t her?
I’d allowed my pride to get in the way. Again.
After the game, one of the staff sat the kids down to finish the homework they hadn’t done straightaway when they’d arrived.
It was five p.m., and they were going to be picked up by their parents in an hour.
Now that so many volunteers were around, besides the paid staff, it became a little ridiculous that I was there too.
I said goodbye and sauntered around the corner where Tim, my contractor and erstwhile friend, was pouring concrete for the new clubhouse.
“Feel like knocking off early and going for a drink?” I asked.
“Sorry, I’m driving back to the Cotswolds in a second. Tabs arrives home from filming at ten.”
“Then you’re driving back tomorrow morning?”
“Yep. Leave at around five a.m.”
“You’re traveling four hours to see Tabs for seven hours?”
“Yep.”
“That sounds brutal.”
He gave me a pitying look that said I knew nothing. “I’d travel that far for one hour with Tabitha.”
His face brightened at his mention of her name.
I shook my head, confounded. “I believe you would.”
“And if you found someone awesome, you’d do the same,” he said. “Oh wait. You have found someone awesome. But you fucked it up.”
I let out a disgusted sound from the back of my throat. “Why do I even try to be friends with you?”
He gave me the puppy-dog eyes. “Try? Are you saying we’re not friends already? That’s hurtful, Darcy,” he said, mock serious. “How do you think that makes me feel?”
“Smartarse.”
“Arsehole.”
He directed his foreman to take over supervising the concrete pouring. He grabbed the gym bag I hadn’t noticed at his feet and strode off, presumably to his truck.
No one was letting me get in the last word today.