Keeping Score
Delaney
At the apartment door, Janet said from the hallway, "Are you sure you don't want any help?" Curious as ever, she peered past me toward Tessa's kitchen.
Reluctantly, I turned to look at the groceries lined up on the counter. They'd been delivered barely an hour ago, but they weren't for me.
They were for Tessa – or rather, Tessa's pantry. I was replacing everything I'd used while squatting here, uninvited.
Every can of peas, every box of pasta, every jar of spaghetti sauce – I'd made a detailed list so I could replace everything before I left.
I'd even gotten the brands right – not that anyone would've noticed but me.
Still, I was determined not to owe Tessa anything, except maybe an explanation the next time I saw her, whenever that might be.
It had been nearly a week since we'd talked on the phone, and I'd spent most of that time by myself – sulking, working, and thinking about the guy whose name I still didn't know.
I was pretty sure I hated him – but only because I had liked him so very much.
Five more minutes together, and I probably would've been head over heels.
God, I'd been such a fool.
During the past week, I'd also written a handful of condolence letters to Maisie, all of which I'd discarded.
I simply couldn't find the words, which was pretty pathetic, considering I wrote for a living.
The way it sounded, Maisie was actually happy. She had a new guy, a new best friend, and an entire life that had kept moving while I'd been standing still.
Was it really my place to go barging back in?
I was still eying the groceries when Janet said, "Honestly, I don't mind. I'm really good at packing."
Just this morning, I'd mentioned to her that I was leaving town tomorrow, and she'd been stopping by nonstop ever since.
I should've been used to it. Even before today, I swear, every time I opened the apartment door, there she was – leaving, returning, checking her mail, or lingering in the hallway while scrolling through her phone.
She must've been lonely. And I guess I was, too, which made the two of us seem closer than we actually were.
Or maybe she was simply one of those people who made a habit of collecting new friends, especially ones who never left the building.
I couldn't even be annoyed. It was nice to be wanted by somebody, right?
Damn it.
Enough with the self-pity.
I turned back with a smile. "Nah. I've got it, but thanks."
Janet was still peering into the kitchen. "I think I've got some boxes. I could go get them if you want."
"For the groceries?" I shook my head. "I'm not packing them. I'm putting them away."
"Really? So…why is everything lined up like that?"
I turned to look. It was because I was double-checking my list. Stupid or not, it seemed really important to keep everything exact.
I didn't want to owe Tessa anything.
But like a selfish clod, I felt too bitter to add anything extra.
This included the hydrangea, which I was definitely bringing with me.
I couldn’t let it die, could I? And besides, the flower wasn't food so it didn't count.
And yes, I did realize the whole food thing was slightly ridiculous – and not only because I'd kept a list.
If I was truly keeping score, I also owed Maddox – or whatever his name was. I'd survived on those restaurant leftovers for nearly three days before touching anything of Tessa's.
And now, as I stared at the groceries, I couldn't help but recall how he'd ordered me that extra lobster bisque just because I'd liked it. It had been so incredibly sweet that even now, I felt a stupid urge to smile.
It was the sort of thing that probably happened to Tessa all the time. And yet, it was the first time it had ever happened to me.
But then, my urge to smile faltered. If Tessa had been sitting next to me, he probably would've ordered bisque for her instead.
But what did it matter?
Obviously, he'd only invited me to dinner at all to conduct some sort of surveillance. What was it, anyway? A test to see if I'd blab about some court case?
No wonder he'd been so eager to talk about me and my problems.
Good thing I hadn't blabbed, huh?
The whole thing was such a sham. And yet, I couldn't stop my brain from filling in the blanks – dropping Tessa into that dinner instead of me.
I didn't even have to change the dress – except she looked better in it.
Shit.
There it was again. The stupid self-pity that I couldn't seem to shake.
As my thoughts swirled, I returned my attention to Janet. "I'm just trying to be organized, that's all."
She smiled. "So…if you're not packing it, do you want some help putting it away?"
Actually, I did.
Or rather, what I really wanted was company. But this wasn't my apartment, and it still seemed wrong to invite someone in when I was a guest myself.
"No, thanks," I said for the umpteenth time. "I've done the hardest part already."
"So, how about later?" she asked. "Want to grab dinner? You can tell me where you're moving."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Actually, I can't, because I still don't know." I'd told her this at least twice already, so she was obviously teasing.
"But can you not know?" She gave me a winning smile. "What are you gonna do? Get in your car and see where it takes you?"
At the mention of my car, my stomach tightened. My ancient Ford Focus was still in that stupid parking garage. Or, at least, I sure hoped it was.
Even though I'd been at Tessa's for weeks, I hadn't ventured anywhere near that garage – at first, because I had no money and then because I'd lost my nerve.
And besides, moving it closer had seemed pointless, because I'd have to pay a small fortune no matter where I parked it. Yes, even here.
But now that I was on the verge of leaving, I really did need to move it closer.
I was dreading it just a little. Was the car okay? Was my stuff still inside? Was the car still there?
I wasn't even a guest at that hotel.
Did they have some way of knowing?
Or did they count on their sky-high parking rates to keep cars from squatting, long-term, like I'd been squatting at Tessa's?
From the doorway, Janet said, "You did hear my question, right?"
"Uh…yeah." I tried to think. "I mean…first I have to leave Chicago, but then, I'm not sure. I might spend some time on the beach, maybe get a little cabin for the summer. And after that, who knows."
She frowned. "A cabin at the beach? Isn't that more of a woods thing?"
"I guess," I admitted. And yet, I had been picturing a little cabin, someplace where I could write my little heart out while getting some emotional distance from Chicago. With a shrug, I said, "Or maybe I'll get a beach-side hotel."
"In June?" she said with another frown. "Isn't everything booked up?"
Okay, now I was getting a little annoyed. Still, I forced a smile. "You know what? I guess I'll find out. But the first step is getting my car, so—"
"Hey, I know! I'll take you."
"You mean…to get my car?" I forced a laugh. "Or to the beach?"
"Either one." She brightened. "I love the beach. And cabins, too."
"I…um…" Was she serious? I wasn't sure if I should feel flattered or freaked out.
My thoughts must've shown on my face because she rushed to add, "Don't worry. We don't have to room together or anything."
I almost took a step backward. "But what about your research job?"
"Oh, that," she said with a breezy wave of her hand. "I can do that from anywhere."
A prickle of unease crept up my spine. "But what about your apartment? You literally just moved in."
"Yeah, but it's week-to-week." She shrugged. "And it's furnished. I can leave whenever."
And she wanted to leave with me?
Well, that wasn't a giant red flag or anything.
I cleared my throat. "Oh. Well, that's really convenient."
"I know, right?" She leaned toward me. "How about this? I'll take you to get your car, and we can talk about it on the way."
"Oh…gosh." I hesitated. "That's really nice of you to offer, but actually, Walt's taking me instead."
Good golly.
I just prayed it was true.