Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Cassidy
E verything is perfect. The spa, the food, the drinks, the girls. Everything. This weekend is exactly what I needed to remind myself that I am right where I need to be and the decisions I make that put me here are the right ones.
We have been following our itinerary almost to a T, with the addition of an extra trip to Starbucks for a pick-me-up in the afternoon. Maybe in our old age, we should have scheduled a nap before our evening out, but we didn’t. So, coffee ended up being added to help us get through the afternoon lull we all experienced.
The girls all look pampered and refreshed, sipping glasses of wine at our table for dinner. Everyone is dressed to impress with dewy faces, freshly painted nails, and top-notch hair. I am no exception.
The final call with my nails ended up being ballet slipper; my mind couldn’t make another decision, so classic was the only choice. I’m wearing a simple blush satin dress, Georgie in a mauve-toned number, and Lynn in a lovely ballet-recital pink. Mary is wearing white, of course. I can imagine we look like the typical bachelorette group out for a night of mischief. I think everyone looks perfect.
The girls were excited about my possible job opportunity. Each had something positive to say, but Lynn wanted to know what that meant for Hunter. I just rolled my eyes at her irrelevant question and the others took that as a cue to refrain from asking about it further. If I had let her, Lynn would have continued to press on, but today isn’t about Hunter and me. Today is about Mary.
I can’t lie and pretend I haven’t thought about him. I have thought about him on numerous occasions, and each time I am reminded of the same thing. I look around the table and see the girls’ beautiful faces and think, once again: He is not a permanent fixture, like these girls.
Maybe it’s because my mind has wandered to him again, that I notice my phone buzzing in my clutch. I give him credit for not calling all day, but then again, he knew I would be busy.
I look up and see the conversation at the table has stopped and the girls are all staring at me.
“What?” I say and take a generous drink.
“Don’t you ‘what’ me. I know that is Hunter on your damn phone. You think I haven’t seen you check that thing every hour all day? You don’t have to not answer on our account. We have all taken the time to speak to each of our partners at some point today. You are the only one who hasn’t yet.” Mary is as direct as ever. She’s technically the boss, so if someone gets to call the shots today, it’s her.
“I don’t have a partner to call,” I say cheekily.
“Oh, cut your bullshit.” Georgie rolls her eyes and takes my glass out of my hand. I think for a moment to tell them we are currently fighting, but then there would be questions. I don’t want questions.
“If I call Hunter back, can we drop this whole topic?” I am bargaining with them, and possibly ruining my night all at once. I try to quickly map out a way to kindly navigate a swift conversation with Hunter without disrupting my fun, or completely backing down when he apologizes again. Not that he is the only person who needs to apologize, but I am not quite ready to have an I’m-sorry conversation.
Georgie squints her eyes and glares at me from across the table.
“Sure.” She states coolly, and I know I am so far from off the hook with her. She can read me better than anyone, and she knows something is up.
I grab my phone from my clutch and excuse myself from the table. Weaving through the restaurant I make my way to the bar and order myself a fresh glass. The bartender gives me a kind smile and brings forth a much-needed drink. With a new glass in one hand and my phone in the other, I dial him up.
The phone only rings once before he answers. “Hey.”
“Hey there, yourself,” I reply simply. “The girls all had their chances to give their men a call and suggest I do the same.”
“I know y’all are at dinner. I left a voicemail, but all I said was that I was headed over the Jake’s to check in on Sharon. He asked me to come by, said she wasn’t doing too hot. I knew you’d want to know. I’ll text you whatever happens, but most likely I am going to have to take her to a clinic.”
I am a bit shocked that he has almost completely avoided the topics of us or apologies, but at the same time, I am relieved.
What washed the relief away was my immediate worry for Jake and his mom. I know first-hand how hard it is to be on their own with a sick parent, scared out of your mind.
“Do you guys have a decent place down by you? No offense.” I cut in that last part because I honestly mean no harm.
“After hours? Just a walk-in clinic attached to the pharmacy a few towns over, but I don’t know when they close.”
“If she’s bad, you should just take her to Regional Hospital. It’s a bit of a trek for you, but they are out of the city, so you won’t have city hospital ER waiting times. I’ve driven out there when I knew I wanted to get in quick.”
“What did you go to the ER for? Cat fight? Really nasty paper cut from a bad book?” He tries to gently coax me into a light conversation, and I hate that I want to be in it with him.
I cave. “You should have seen what happened to the other guy.” I joke.
“Wait, really?” I roll my eyes.
“No. I sliced my finger at a cooking class and had to get three stitches. It was no big deal. I did know that if I went to the ER fifteen minutes from me, I would have waited over an hour to be seen. At Regional it was about five or ten minutes.”
“Ah, so that’s why you avoid cooking. You’re clumsy.”
The warm quality of his voice over the line seems to drown out all the noise in the bar and restaurant. All I can hear is him, his light nature, his warmth, and his compassion for Jake. I want to selfishly ask him to read to me later, but I won’t. That’s too far.
“No, smartass. I don’t cook because there are too many good options for food out here to be ready way faster than I can make it. It’s the literal opposite of you.” I hope that Hunter doesn’t find a hidden meaning in my words. I honestly meant that we just cook in opposite ways, but with the underlying tension, it could spark a new fight.
Hunter doesn’t pay any mind. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Sushi, tacos, burgers—you got it all up there.”
Silence hangs on the line, but I think I hear the crunch of gravel under his truck’s heavy tires.
“Alright, Beautiful. I just got to Jake’s. I’mma run in there and see what’s goin’ on.”
“Let me know if I can do anything, or if you need any other suggestions of a place to go, I’ll try to take a peek at my phone after dinner.”
“Sounds good. Have fun tonight.” He’s sincere, kind, and gentle.
I’m about to end the call when I hear my name through the line.
“Yeah?” I say before he thinks I’m already gone.
“If you don’t mind, will you just shoot me a text when y’all make it back to wherever you’re staying? I just want to know y’all get back safe.”
“Yeah, Hunt. I can do that.” I hear him let out a heavy sigh and I take two long drinks from my glass.
“Thanks, then, enjoy.”
I hang up quickly and swirl the wine in my glass around a little bit, watching the liquid glide around.
Well, that went way better than I had anticipated. Relief mixed with an unsatisfied feeling lingers within me.
Did I want to duke it out a little?
I’m not so sure. I take another healthy swig and walk back over to the girls, thankful I won’t have to lie about our conversation.
Sauntering up to the table I see that our food has been delivered, but my appetite seems to be subdued. It is imperative I get some food in me before we head to our next destination because after this, only booze will be served. Something in my gut will have to soak some of it up, and the afternoon coffee with measly pastry will not be enough.
After a quick recap with the girls regarding my phone call they all share their sympathy for Jake and his mother, and then we shift right back into party mode.
The night is young and I’m hoping my light conversation with the Hunter was the hardest part of it.