Chapter 4 The Message
THE MESSAGE
BECKY
“My fiancé is a charismatic little shit.” I complained to my sister over the phone. She laughed, but she obviously didn't understand my struggle.
“No, listen. Based on what I’ve learned over the last couple of years teaching middle school, Carter had Rizz.
Or, my students would call him something like The Rizzler.
” Now that had a ring to it. Sounded like a damn Batman villain.
The Rizzler, charming everyone, but his actual fiancé.
At the rate he was going it was the perfect new moniker for him.
“Is he at least saving some of that rizz for you?” Her trip up on the word rizz made me laugh out loud, cutting through the sting of my answer to that question.
“Lately, no. He’s been working late and helping friends out a lot more than usual.
After the concert and our talk and reconnection the other night,” I blushed at the thought.
“I really thought we were going back to the way things were…” My words caught in my throat, the reality that things had not gone back to normal hitting me in the chest like a ton of bricks.
My eyes prickled as they filled with tears, but I was determined not to let them fall.
I shook my head and coughed to clear my throat.
“But now he’s still working late and on his phone even more than usual.
” Stoppit brain. Think positive. “Only…again…him and his rizz could be the reason for that.”
Everyone who has met my fiancé has been immediately taken in.
He’s made friends with a single conversation and then maintained them forever.
My lips twitched as a memory formed in my head.
“Some guy, a couple years back, was driving some cool old truck and was parked next to us at the gas station.” I told my sister while I wandered the house, picking up odds and ends and finding their homes.
“The Rizzler popped over to chat when I went inside for some relief and goodies.”
“You mean Coke and a Fastbreak.” She rudely interrupted.
“Shut up, I’m talking…but yes. Now, before I made it back to the car, Carter had Truck Guy’s number and plans to meet up.
” I picked up a couple dirty dishes, juggling them and my phone tucked into my shoulder.
When I opened the dishwasher, a machine full of sparkling, clean dishes greeted me.
With a grunt of frustration, I grabbed my earbuds to free my hands and avoid the crick in my neck.
“This guy, this random stranger, still calls Carter about car and truck events in the area.” She went silent on the other end. “Wait, can you still hear me?”
“Yes, just folding laundry, keep going.” Her voice was a little distant.
“Tell me when I’m on speaker, you brat.” She snickered, but stayed quiet.
“Anyway, to give you a good idea of the social butterfly status of my man, Carter had three times as many phone call minutes and messages on his phone line compared to my own.” I gleefully pointed this out to him one day when he was giving me a hard time about always being on the phone.
“Okay…why are you telling this to me?” A loud chewing, crunching sound filled my headphones. Gross Lenny.
“The point is that I do not and never have had Rizz. I am the bookworm, stay at home, leave me alone for twelve hours to charge my social battery, introvert.” I finished putting up the dishes and returned to general tidying.
“Yeah, true.”
“Jesus, you don’t have to agree with me so easily.” I pause with a dog toy in hand.
“How many book subscriptions do you have?”
“Okay, rude…only three.” Another snicker through the phone.
“I still don’t get what you’re trying to tell me, Sis.”
Most of my friends are located all over the state and the country…
even the world, but they number in the handfuls.
I have plenty of people I get along with.
However, I am uninterested in investing in more friends.
“My social energy is used up at school Monday through Friday. The weekends, and time with my fiancé after school, work together to charge my battery for my students.”
I continued, despite her silence.
“Okay, how about this. I saw a meme once of a girl with a low battery icon looking dejected as shit in the first panel, then she’s snuggling a man in the second panel.
The third panel has her battery in the yellow, and her final panel has her battery in the green.
” I grunted as I bent over to look under the couch, now returned to its normal location.
“She’s just silently hugging her man, and…
I get that on a cellular level.” A lone sock was under there, so I nabbed it, but remained kneeling there for a moment.
“Carter is my charging port, Lenny. He’s my safe place to go to when I can’t function anywhere else anymore. ”
“Okay, that is stupid cute, and I still don’t see your problem. Do you feel like you don’t see him enough right now? Can’t you go see him?”
“I…can’t just go see him.” I shrugged the discomfort away and scooted right past that topic. “Honestly, I just worry that a missing detail in the panel is the man’s battery going down as a result of being her source of comfort. Maybe that’s why it feels like he’s pulling away?”
“Becky, I…”
“He’s really holding onto that phone. I don’t think I’ve seen him put it down. We haven’t even been together together since that night—”
“Becky, he lov—”
“—and that’s not like us, and I’m starting to freak out because school is almost back on—”
“Becks, quit.”
“—and we have even less time, and what if he’s—”
“Stoppit, stoppit, stoppit!” My sister interrupted my word vomit loud enough to make me think she’d been trying for some time.
“Damn, Lenny, what?”
“What are you really worried about, Becky?” she asked, much quieter now. “This is Carter we’re talking about. He loves filling your social battery.”
There was no censure in her voice, but some real worry threaded through her words.
I let out a deep sigh before answering. “Then why does he keep avoiding me? What did I do? I miss him.”
Lenny was quiet for a minute before asking me, “Have you tried fitting things into the time you do have after he gets home? Fresh cooked meal—”
“I’m a terrible cook.”
“Okay, his favorite take-out, ready for when he gets home. Do your stupid TV ritual—”
“Barneby is not stupid.” How dare she criticize Midsomer Murders that way.
“Oh my God stop interrupting me!” she screeched at me.
“Okay, Okay. Chill out,” I checked the time. Okay. I knew that if it was anything like the last few days, I had two and a half hours before Carter got home. That was plenty of time to get things together.
“...and maybe then you’ll be on the same page.” My sister finished. Shit, I heard none of that.
“Sounds great! Thanks for the help! Love ya, bye!” I hung up and put my plan into action.
?????
I heard the rumbling truck pull in and took another look around the kitchen.
I had our take out displayed on the island with chopsticks because I’m authentic like that.
I didn’t have candles because we aren’t those type, but I did have a slinky little lacy number on under my robe.
I was going to let my sleeve slip and the front gap accidentally give a peepshow here and there.
I heard the door open and shut and waited with excitement bubbling up in my belly. Butterflies? Really? I was stupid excited for the night I had planned.
I washed our fuzziest blankets and our favorite mugs for snuggling on the couch with our tea after dinner. I was going to do the final reveal of my nighty, and then we’d take it to the bedroom for some real fun.
I was basically bouncing on my toes. I missed him.
He removed his boots, but never looked up before he was headed to our bedroom. I gave him a second then called out to him.
“Carter?”
Nothing.
The sound of the shower starting made me think he must have had an extra greasy day. I couldn’t tell in the low light in the livingroom, and it happens at the shop a lot. I grabbed a quick bite before following him to the bathroom. Change of plans. That’s okay. I can do a change of plans.
Once I opened the door, he was already in the water, his clothes shockingly all over the floor.
“Hey hun,” I called out to him, unwrapping my robe.
“Hey, baby.” I waited for him to add more like he usually does. Maybe at least a token apology for another late night. Nothing came. I shook it off because I was being aggressively positive. No negative!
“I have something delicious for you in the kitchen once you’re done with your shower,” I said, totally meaning the double entendre. Word play for the win.
“I already ate, you know I’ve been eating before I get home these late nights. I’ll pack it for lunch tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay” Before I could think of another way to swing things my way I heard him scoff.
“Yeah, okay. Becky, don’t make me feel bad for eating. You know that you haven’t been cooking—”
“No, no, I know. I didn’t mean anything by that.” I interrupted him before I also got annoyed. Positive, positive, positive I chanted to myself. He was silent in response.
“Well, I can do that, and maybe you can get the stuff together for some MM tonight! I even got your favorite—”
“I’m exhausted, Becks. I just need to go to bed.” He sounded tired, defeated, and I actually did feel bad. I was forgetting the late nights weren’t exactly fun and games.
“I could jump in and wash your back?” I offered with a heavy suggestion, dropping my robe with my words. Just then, I heard his phone vibrate on the counter. I instinctively looked that way.
After two plus years of Mr. Rizz, I was used to seeing all kinds of notifications and messages on his phone from everyone. I was even used to reading filthy, dirty messages from his bestie group chat The Boys. They said some raunchy shit to each other.
This message, though? This message affected me more strongly than anything I’d ever seen pop up on his screen.
Tay ;)
I hope you made it home safe. I thought that pizza was alright. You need to try my homemade pizza sometime ;). I’m thinking enchiladas for our dinner tomorrow night. Xx
“Not tonight, Hun. I’m gonna just go to bed and play a game on my phone or something.”
Yeah, I think I just learned what, or better yet who ‘or something’ was.