41. Lana
41
LANA
“ O h, Shay, I’m glad I caught you,” I say, looking down at the notepad I’m holding. “Coach Turner wanted to see if you’d be interested in collaborating on…”
My words trail off as I meet her dejected expression. It’s strange on her, and my first inclination is to ask who hurt her so I can smack them around a little.
Then I remember I’m at work and maybe I need to wait till we’re out of the building for that level of enthusiasm. As if realizing she’s not bursting with sunshine, she perks up and gives me the fakest smile I’ve ever seen.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, narrowing my eyes and placing a hand on my hip. The last time I saw her and the IT guy, Porter, was in the copy room, but had I not stumbled in there that day, I wouldn’t have known anything was going on at all.
“What?” Her surprise is genuine and I’ve already anticipated her answer before she speaks. “Nothing.”
“You’re worse at lying than my ex-husband,” I deadpan, and whether it’s the delivery or the fact that I’ve never shared this much, it has her cracking a smile. “Do you need help burying anything? I can have a shovel and a tarp here in ten minutes tops.”
“No,” she chuckles, settling back into her chair. “I just…” She sighs. “Porter wasn’t honest with me. And the way I found out just sucks…” Her voice trails off. “It hurts and I feel like an idiot, you know? All he had to do was man up and tell me.”
“I do understand,”—I nod and hesitate before deciding to inject myself further into her business—“but can I ask you one question?”
“Sure,” she says, lifting one shoulder and letting it drop.
“Was his intention to lie? To be deceitful?” She opens her mouth but I hold up my hand and give her a sad smile. “My ex lied. A lot. He had multiple affairs and was intentionally deceitful. Now, I don’t know you or Porter all that well,” I start, my lips twitching up when she blushes, “but I don’t think he and my ex are in the same boat, am I right?”
“It was nothing like that but…” Her words trail off as she worries her bottom lip.
“You’re still allowed to be upset because he was an idiot, and you don’t have to forgive him right away. But maybe take a step back and figure out what’s really bothering you; take out the hurt and what are you left with?”
It might not be the best advice, but it’s the advice I wish I had when everything went sideways with Jacob.
I’m caught up in the memories when Shay bursts out of her chair and rounds the desk before I even know what’s happening. Her arms wrap around me, squeezing me in a tight hug that has us rocking back and forth.
“I needed this,” she whispers. “Thank you so much.”
I hug her back, a little ball of warmth forming in my chest at her declaration. “It’s hard and he should definitely work for it, but if he’s worth it, then it will all work out.”
“I appreciate this more than you know,” she says, pulling back and wiping a single tear from her lashes. Chuckling, she adds, “No one is ever this real with me.”
“Oh, um…”
Her smile is genuine and a little mischievous. “When I walk through these doors, I have to be on ”—she waves her hand around to illustrate her point—“all the time. We all have a role to play here and mine is the peppy, put you in a good mood advisor who doesn’t get a day to just sulk and daydream about removing the batteries from all of Porter’s remotes or taking all his spoons because cereal is his favorite nighttime snack and only heathens eat cereal with a fork.”
“Or moms of almost teenagers who hoard the spoons or just throw them in the trash because like, I forgot, brah.” I do my best impression of Beck, and Shay snickers.
“Okay, but that’s survival. I’m talking about just inconveniencing him enough to give him an eye twitch.”
“I fully approve of this method, and also,”—I squeeze her forearm—“I’m glad we did this. Maybe we can grab coffee next week when we have some downtime?”
“Me too. And I’d love that,” she says brightly. “I’ve wanted to ask but I wasn’t sure you’d be interested.”
“My resting bitch face is real. It’s okay, I know.”
“We all have our strengths.” She turns halfway back to her desk before looking back at me. “You came over here for something Coach Turner wants to do?”
Waving her off, I smile. “It’s nothing that can’t wait till Monday. I’ll email you the details.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. You have more important things to do—like larceny of used spoons and batteries.”
Barking out a laugh, she throws her head back and misses the moment Porter steps into the student center.
Time to go.
“I’ll see you on Monday, Shay.”
“Bye, Lana, and thank—” Her words end when her eyes lock on the man who’d almost been reduced to a lifetime of minor and aggravating annoyances.
Grinning, I make sure to lower my voice as I pass him on my way out. “Deserve her.”
I don’t wait for his response because I have a good feeling everything is about to work out even if I’ll probably have to avoid the copy room on Monday.
“Beckham Howard Richards, how many times have I told you to put the seat down?” I holler as I come into the kitchen to find my son with his hands up and my boyfriend with a guilty expression.
“It wasn’t me!” Beck yells, affronted.
“It better not have been you,” I grumble, “because why?”
“Because you’re raising a gentleman,” Beck answers dutifully as he smirks at Mason.
“Good boy,” I say with a smile before turning my mom face on my boyfriend.
“That’s my fault,” he says, hustling into the bathroom and coming back a moment later, kissing me on the cheek. “Sorry, Dream Girl.”
“Uh-huh. Listen, I had a whole conversation today about mild revenge ideas for annoying rather than maiming.”
Mason’s mouth opens and closes as he blinks at me. “Apparently your day was far more entertaining than mine.”
I shrug, a little self-conscious. “I got to be a friend today.”
Mason’s eyes narrow. “I’m thrilled you’re, um, putting yourself out there to make friends, but maybe we need to talk about the people you’re associating with…” His voice trails off teasingly and Beck snickers.
“You shouldn’t give in to peer pressure,” my son says, unable to keep the laugh from his voice, and Holland’s gaze bounces between all of us, obviously confused.
“I don’t think we need to worry about your mom, dude. It’s the innocent sensibilities of others we— Hey!” Mason squeaks as I pinch his side. “Ow.”
His eyes are twinkling, and I can’t help but roll mine. “You’re causing trouble.”
“I would never.” Mason grins and leans forward to press a quick kiss to my lips.
Beck gags and Holland makes some kinds of oooo sound; both have me laughing when I pull back and look at them. They’re smiling, and I am too, because this is happiness. This is what it’s always supposed to be like.
“What do you think about a waffle bar for dinner?”
“Yes!” Cheers sound around me, my boyfriend included in the mix. His vibrance brings so much to our lives, and I’m so damn thankful because we’d settled for so long. Jacob would be appalled at such an unconventional night, and it makes me smile, that and the fact that Mason and I will have plenty of whipped cream left over for later.
Much later.