22. Dara
22
Dara
When I first got up this morning, I felt a little bit lost. I’ll admit, I did enjoy a luscious lie-in. So much so that it was past nine when I finally tumbled out of bed. But after my morning coffee, I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.
It’s weird when you do things so routinely, the same thing every day for weeks, and then to wake up and not have to do anything. Not that I’m complaining. In fact, there’s lots of things I would actually like to do.
My house could do with a cleaning. There’s a book on my reading list that I haven’t gotten around to even opening yet. My small herb garden in the back needs tending to, and that’s just off the top of my head.
The cleaning takes less than an hour. It’s a small house and I don’t have any tiny children I’m hiding in a closet somewhere. As I work through each room, however, my mind is less consumed with how shiny my counters are and more distracted with replaying the conversation Alex and I had last night.
It still feels a little dreamy, like it didn’t happen, even though I know it did, and I can’t help the smile that keeps lining my face every time I think of that tender kiss.
After lunch, I tend to the oregano, thyme, parsley, rosemary, and basil I have growing in small pots on my back patio. I take some snippets of each so I can dry them, then I water what’s left, making sure the weeds aren’t strangling my plants of all life.
Again, my mind is awash with the possibilities that lie ahead. It’s been a long time since my last relationship, and a part of me feels like a teenager again with all the excitement and butterflies in my tummy. I’m nervous, but with anticipation, not dread. I don’t think Alex has given me anything to dread, so my rose-colored glasses are firmly in place. For now.
Later in the afternoon, I settle myself in the garden with the book I’ve been wanting to read, but my concentration levels are shot as I daydream about my future. I’ve got a cold juice and my phone sitting beside me on the table, and taking a deep breath, I sigh contentedly.
Who would have thought that leaving Dino’s restaurant could have held such promise. If I’d still been there, none of this would have happened. But as Mom always says, things happen for a reason. Such was the black cloud above my head when I had to move back to Riverdale and work in the diner, I couldn’t imagine the reason, nor could I see any silver lining. But now? Now I’m blinded by it, so it’s a good thing I’m wearing sunglasses.
My phone buzzes on the table, and I reach to lift it. No doubt Astrid is texting, wondering how last night went. But the message isn’t from Astrid, it’s from Alex. I smile and open it.
Suddenly, I sit bolt upright in my lounger, and the smile drops from my face.
“What?”
I read the message again.
I will no longer require your services. Please leave the spare key in the mailbox. I will wire your final payment over shortly, as well as the money we discussed as part of the deal. I think it best if we end any further communication. Alex.
I read the message over and over again, feeling a cold sensation rush through my body. I can’t stop glaring at his words, and completely stunned, I sit there like I’m frozen in time.
When I finally snap out of my stupor, I start stabbing a message back to him.
“What am I doing?”
I delete the text, and pressing the green button, I just call him. He can’t leave things like that. I don’t know what is going on, but I need to know why he’s changed like the wind in less than twenty-four hours.
The phone rings and rings, and then I hear his voice telling me, rather efficiently, that he’s currently not available and to please leave a message after the beep. But when the long beep rings out, I can only sit there with my mouth open, without a clue what I’m supposed to say.
A few seconds later, I hang up.
Still stunned, I look at the phone for another few minutes, wondering what the heck I’m supposed to do. This doesn’t make sense. Last night, we were sitting together holding hands. This afternoon, he doesn’t even want to speak to me anymore.
You need to go and speak to him.
Yes, I do.
Pushing myself off the lounger and abandoning the wonderfully relaxing afternoon that crashed and burned so incredibly in a matter of minutes, I head inside to grab my car keys.
Five minutes later, I’m pulling to a screeching halt outside his house, but before I even open my car door, I know he’s gone. I don’t know how I know; I just know.
All right, the absence of his super-duper car is a clue, but it’s more than that. I don’t just mean gone. I mean gone.
Hightailing it up to the front door, I knock anyway. I can’t help it. I have to make sure. But unless his car has turned invisible, I’m wasting my time. The key to his house is still on my key ring, and I look down at it.
I could…
No. Not now. He’s made it perfectly clear what he wants, and if you step foot in that house, you’ll be crossing more lines than a train.
Unclipping the key, I somberly drop down the steps from his front porch and make my way to his mailbox. Leaving the key inside, just like Alex requested, I turn and look back at the house. It’s a great, looming thing, but I feel a gap in my stomach because I know I’m going to miss it.
The house or him?
Both.
When I get back to my car, I sit there and dig out my phone. There are no missed calls. No messages. Alex isn’t messing around. And then I do what I always do when I need a shoulder to cry on.
I call Astrid.
The phone rings for longer than normal, and then I hear a breathless reply.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” I say. “Did I disturb you?”
“No,” she says, sounding a little strange.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
“No,” she says again.
I’m frowning now because Astrid is being weird. Even for her.
“What’s going on?”
Then there’s nothing. She doesn’t speak, but I can hear her breathing, so I know she hasn’t dropped dead or anything.
“Astrid?”
“I’m sorry, Dara. I didn’t mean to say anything.”
I’m shaking my head in confusion. “Wha—”
And then it hits me.
Oh, lord. What has she done?
“You told him,” I say.
“He came round and he seemed agitated, and then he asked me straight out, and you know I can’t lie. I mean, I’m terrible at it, not that I can’t do it. And then, it all spilled out. And he was so mad,” she rambled.
But it didn’t make any sense.
“Alex came to see you?” I blurt.
“Not Alex. Mark.”
“What?”
“Yes. He was looking for a tonic for his stomach, or that was his excuse at any rate. Then he brought you and Alex up, and then…” She heaved a sigh. “I’m so sorry, Dara. Have I messed everything up?”
“Listen, I need to call you back,” I say, hanging up before she has a chance to say anything else.
When I pull up outside Mark’s house, I’m angry. He must have confronted Alex. It’s the only thing that makes any sense. And as much as I want to find out the truth before I lambast him with all the reasons none of this was any of his business, I can feel the rage boiling as I reach the top step. I don’t even knock; I just walk straight into the house.
“Are you in here?” I yell.
Mark strides out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. He eyes me with a scowl, and I scowl right back.
“What did you do?” I demand.
“I could ask you the same question. I know you and Alex sat here on that very seat and lied to my face. I don’t know who I’m more disappointed in.”
“I don’t care,” I cry. “Who the heck do you think you are, sticking your nose into my business? I’m sick and tired of this ridiculous big brother thing you have going on.”
“Hang on,” Mark says, tossing the towel aside. “I’m not the bad guy here.”
“Did you tell him?” I demand.
“You’re the one who lied to me, Dara.”
“Did you tell him?” I repeat.
“He’s my best friend, and you’re my sister.”
“Did you tell him?” I bellow, teetering on the verge of losing my sanity.
“Yes!” Mark yells back. “I told him. I told him that I knew it was all fake.”
“Did you tell him that it was Astrid who told you?” I ask, my voice now close to breaking.
Mark nods again. He seems a little calmer now, which I think has a lot to do with the fact that I’m on the verge of breaking down in tears.
“Dara, what’s going on?”
“He’s gone,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “He’s gone and he won’t ever come back.”
I can’t hold the tears back any longer, and breaking free, they trickle down my cheeks. Then Mark has his arms around my shoulders, and I’m sobbing into his chest.
It’s a little later when I calm down. Mark has already lowered me onto the sofa and remains by my side. Ever the protective sibling, with his arm still around my shoulders. He moves his arm and turns to look at me head on.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?”
I do. I tell him everything, from the very beginning when Alex offered me a job, to the proposal of the fake relationship. I tell him why it was so important to Alex, at which point, Mark looks more than guilty. I explain that lines have become blurred in the last couple of weeks, and I tell him what happened between us last night.
“So, you see,” I sniff, “it might have started off as us pretending to be together, but as time has gone on and we’ve spent more time together, we discovered we actually do like each other. A lot.”
“And I messed all that up with my big mouth,” Mark said, looking remorseful. “I’m sorry, Dara. I should have spoken to you first.”
I shrug. “It doesn’t matter now. He’s gone and he never wants me to contact him again.”
Mark shakes his head. “I’m not willing to accept that, and neither should you.”
I frown up at him with a quizzical expression. “What?”
He gives me a half smile. “I think we can still fix this.”