15. Archer
Chapter fifteen
Archer
Jessie and Tilly’s First Anniversary
D ear Seb,
Whoever made the gift list for wedding anniversaries had to be a businessman. Paper. Who buys their significant other paper to say, ‘I love you?’ Rich people who send memos on special stationary or military wives sending their deployed husbands a love letter sealed with a kiss.
How do I know this, you ask? Well, Jessie asked me to come with him to buy Tilly a ‘first anniversary’ present. I should’ve known, since he always asks my opinion, but something this important should be from him and him alone. The woman at Tiffany’s was really nice. Even though it could’ve potentially lost her a sale, she told Jessie the first anniversary wasn’t a huge diamond but a slab of tree. I tried to tell him a diamond wasn’t the way to go, but he never listens.
Remember when he decided he wanted hair like Justin Timberlake, blond ramen noodle waves and all? He wouldn’t hear any reason. Sometimes I wonder how Tilly puts up with it, if he railroads her into his wishes like he used to do with us. Then I slap myself silly because he’s my best friend and I want him to be happy. They’re perfect for each other. They fit in with each other’s family, they’re both smart and funny, down for go-kart races and cooking out on a whim.
He dragged me from the jewelry store to the car dealership. Tilly’s car wasn’t new, but it wasn’t old by any means either. It was the same one she drove every day in college to meet us at the coffee shop before class, but it was old by Jessie’s standards. You’d think we came from different sides of the tracks by the way we look at money. Even though we were both brought up around it, it disgusts me to have that many zeros to my bank account. It makes him proud. I’m not knocking him, he’s worked hard to build his wealth, but the same money that comforts him strangles me. Mom and Dad lord it over me, like I need their funds to be part of the family.
Every penny I have, I’ve earned by blood, sweat, and very manly tears. I didn’t need their checks to buy the buildings for my construction business or my hardware stores, and it’s driven an even bigger wedge between us. Money creates more problems than it solves.
Jessie was so excited when he found a car for Tilly, but I knew it wasn’t the right gift for her. Tilly doesn’t like flashy gifts. I once bought her a funny magnet and a tiny gnome holding a dandelion from her favorite online shop and she gushed over it for weeks. I wish you would’ve gotten a chance to meet her. We used to scribble notes and pictures to each other in class, and one time she made me and Jessie come to a picnic lunch where she made these tiny sandwiches and an overload of baked goods. She loves to bowl, loves karaoke (even though she sings off-tune), and Christmas is her favorite holiday because she loves to give gifts even though she hates receiving them.
Gosh, I sound like an asshole listing all the things I’ve noticed about Tilly but shouldn’t have. Jessie is a good man. He treats her right, takes care of her, and I know he loves her. But I love her, too. And I can’t stop my brain from greedily storing every tidbit of information about her even though it’ll never get used.
When Jessie grabbed his checkbook, I couldn’t stay mum about it anymore. Buying a sixty-thousand-dollar SUV wasn’t going to make Tilly’s eyes light up. He was looking for a reaction to his gift, and he wouldn’t get it with that. He looked at me like I was crazy when I told him to sublet the building I chose for my new venture for Tilly’s bakery. He was the only person who knew I was expanding my business to include rentable workshop space, but the location was perfect, and I knew Tilly had been looking in the area for a while. Maybe I subconsciously leased it to be near her. I own a few other hardware stores across the city now, so it wouldn’t be a huge hit to me to lose this location to see her happy.
Jessie gave me a weird look, but it only took a moment before he was telling me I was the smartest man alive and that he’d have his realtor send me the paperwork. It pissed me off that he was going to get the mega smile for his gift, even though it was me who gave him the idea, but all that mattered was that she’d be happy. Having her own bakery was her dream, a place where she could teach kids to bake and rework some of her mom’s old recipes. She’d finally have a place to sell the pineapple cinnamon rolls she used to bring us for weekend study sessions. They were my favorite thing she made, but I refuse to allow myself to eat the treats she makes anymore. It’s just one more thing that makes it impossible to not love her. One more thing that reminds me she’s not—nor will ever be—mine to love. The girl can bake, and a woman who makes life sweeter is one you keep.
I just wasn’t meant to keep her.
-Arch