22. Brooke
Brooke
Meemaw’s sprained ankle healed over the last week, which means she can use her knee scooter more reliably.
Beck’s stern chat with her about not using it as a step ladder seems to have sunk in, because we haven’t had any incidents.
Truthfully, I’m a little bored just being at the house with Meemaw all day when she’s listening to the doctors and resting.
Beck stopped by for lemonade on the porch swing once this week, but he’s been busy. I know when I see his truck in the driveway that he’s sleeping because he hasn’t switched to day shifts yet.
Ben repaired Meemaw’s old car, and I can drive again, but there aren’t a lot of things for me to do around here other than hike, and while hiking can be a great solitary activity, I need interactions with people . I’m an extrovert, and I wear the title proudly.
My toes push against the faded boards of the porch, starting the swing into motion as I stare at Beck’s truck. It’s two p.m., and I know he worked last night, so he’s still sleeping. It doesn’t stop me from wishing I had someone to talk to.
I pull out my phone. Lizzy texted me late last night, but she’s in school now.
Lizzy
OMG! He asked Lara. Thank you so much, Brooke! You’re my favorite big sister.
I can only assume she means that Joey asked Lara, but if he did, I had nothing to do with it.
I contemplate calling Matt, but decide against it. The only thing I could tell him about here is Beck, and I do not want to talk about boys with my twin brother.
I scroll through my contacts, hoping to find someone I actually want to and can talk to. I stop at the P’s. It’s been a while since I’ve talked with Paige. She’s been busy with her life as a married woman, but if anyone knows about a man who’s hung up on another woman’s rejection, it would be her.
I click the text icon because I’m not a terrible friend, and I know that you simply always text first.
Brooke
Hey, so I’m in West Virginia with my grandma, and there’s a guy
My thumb accidentally hits send before I can finish my message.
I’m in the middle of typing *Who kind of has a history a lot like Connor’s* when my phone rings.
I slide the bar to accept the call, and as I bring the phone up to my ear, I hear Paige’s voice.
“There’s a guy ? In West Virginia?”
“Uh. Hi to you too, Paige.”
“Nope. We are well past formalities here. I need the details.”
I sigh and settle into the porch swing. “My meemaw’s neighbor is the guy.”
“Ok. And?”
“He was left at the altar by his fiancée years ago.”
“Ouch.”
“I thought maybe, I don’t know, maybe you might have some advice because of everything with Connor.”
“I don’t know that I have advice, but I can tell you that it’s hard when someone has a rejection wound.”
“But clearly she wasn’t right for him anyway though. Also … I … uh … I met her.”
Paige is silent.
“And uh … she wasn’t very nice. I don’t know … it just. The whole thing was weird. I met her on my first date with Beck.”
“Ooooh. Beck. I like this name. Well, he got over it enough to ask you out. Did he ask you out again?”
“Kind of. Sort of. It’s just—we have to go slow. I guess she hadn’t been here since their wedding day, and then she showed up, and it was just … a lot.”
“Well, I don’t know if this Beck is the one for you, but if he is, then it’s worth going slow, and it’s worth the struggle.”
“That sounds entirely too reasonable. All I want to do is kiss the man, and that hasn’t happened yet.”
Paige’s voice sounds away from the phone like she’s talking to someone else. I make out the words “I’m talking to Brooke” before a deeper voice joins the phone conversation.
“Hey, Brooke, you’re not keeping Matt in line right now? Then who is ?”
I laugh. “Hey, Connor. Matt has a serious girlfriend these days. He’s grown up a lot since that summer at CGO.”
“Oh, so I can’t tap him to be a counselor again?”
“You don’t work there anymore.”
“Hey, it is Paige’s and my turn to be there this summer supporting Tom and Lois and the whole crew of campers.”
“Yeah, yeah. Could I speak with your wife again, please ?”
Paige giggles, and I have no idea what marital intimacy just took place off-screen, but I’m simultaneously glad I couldn’t see it and also pricked with jealousy because I want that . I want a spouse sneaking kisses, or tickling me, or just being affectionate with me, no matter what.
“So you’re in West Virginia?” Paige says, just the slightest bit breathless.
“Yes, and now that Meemaw’s doing better, I’m—” I drop my voice to the barest of whispers because I do not want Meemaw to overhear what I’m about to say. “I’m bored out of my mind.”
“You need your people time,” Paige responds. The summer we were camp counselors together led us to know each other in a way that’s more like siblings than friends. She absolutely knows I need time with people, the same way I know she needs time away from people. “You should get a job.”
I blink slowly. A job sounds perfect. I haven’t wanted to figure out anything for employment because I didn’t know how long I’d be here, but there’s nothing for me in Marquette right now, and I might as well have a little money coming in. Surely Meemaw won’t mind if I’m gone a few hours a week.
“Brooke?” Paige asks, concern in her voice.
I shake myself out of my stupor. “What? Sorry. A job sounds like a great idea. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“I have no idea, but I will take credit for being a genius.”
“Fine. Paige, you’re a genius,” I deadpan. “Now, could you tell me about how being married is treating you these days?”
She lets out a happy hum. “It’s amazing. We have an adventure week planned soon. I’m really excited about it.”
“What’s an adventure week?” I ask.
“It’s a week off, and we’re going somewhere, but we just don’t know yet. We’ll see where the road takes us.”
I’m grateful Paige cannot see my face through the audio-only phone call because it has landed on an expression of supreme disgust. Not planning a trip? That sounds terrible.
“Sounds … not planned.”
It’s comical how I can envision her bristling on the other end of the line.
“Connor likes the spontaneity of it. I do too.”
I laugh, energized by a conversation with a friend. “Well, New River Gorge is a great place to visit if you’re so inclined.”
“I’ll do some—” she cuts off. “Oh, sorry, Brooke, but I gotta go. Let me know how things go with the neighbor. I’ll pray for you.”
“Bye, Paige.”
I smile. Paige has changed so much since I first met her almost three years ago. The way she naturally doles out the promise of prayer is a far cry from the woman who didn’t have faith at camp.
I click the internet icon and start humming to myself as I begin my job search.