Tucker wants to leave and make beautiful music. I want to stay and be me.
“First, I have to say this: you are a fantastic friend. Seriously. I don’t know many people who would do what you’ve done for Hudson. Remember that. Remember how incredibly giving you are. Second, you can, Tucker. You can leave. Everyone would understand. You don’t have to feel like you carry the world. It’s your turn. You can hope again.”
Tucker closes his eyes and inhales deeply.
“I wish that were true. So bad. But I can’t. Not yet.”
“Why not?” I try.
“Because it’s not all fixed yet. There are people here that still need me,” he says, putting the key back in the ignition and cranking the car.
“Part two?” I ask.
“Part two.”
7
Tanner is pissed at me, and I can’t say I blame him.
As I listen to his latest voicemail, I realize that I’ve ignored him for the past two days because I’m not quite over what Tucker told me about him. I’m not over how deceitful he was, and I am definitely not over how scared I am that I may not know him at all. Because I’ve seen Tanner as my best friend since our second week of dating, but this changes that. He’s suddenly become a stranger.
Maybe he’s been a stranger this entire time.
What he did was big—too big for me to ignore—because now I feel like I don’t know who he is at all, and that sucks. A few days ago I thought we were similar, thought we both had too many layers for one another, too many masks. But it turns out Tanner may have been giving me a mask and showing who he truly is to the world, and that’s the last thing I want.
I’m a firm believer in letting things happen how they are supposed to happen. Tanner screwed with that, and it bothers me. Probably more than it should, but I’m tired of that life. I grew up with that. Master manipulators. The Doughers are devious. If you don’t fit their mold one hundred percent the second they meet you, you will within five minutes. They’re crafty like that. They make you believe you have to be what they want you to be. And it works. Every damn time, it works. It doesn’t matter whose toes they step on or how many people they need to knock down to do it.
Tanner doing what he did? Messing with his parents’ marriage and forcing them into what he wanted them to be? It hurts. It hurts because it reminds me so much of something my parents would do.
Truth be told, I want nothing to do with them.
So, I’ve been avoiding him.
I’ve also been avoiding how much of a hypocrite I am for staying with Tanner and stringing him along. I’m upset with him for lying to his parents, no matter how good his intentions were, and now I’m essentially doing the same thing to him. It’s wrong, and I know it. I understand that our situations are different, but it doesn’t change the underlying principal that we’re both doing something wrong. No matter how many times I tell myself differently.
I still feel like I can get away with it though. What I’m doing will hurt Tanner, but it’s not going to change his life. Or at least that’s how I’m going to justify it.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and I debate whether or not to answer it.
Answering it wins out.
“Hello?” I ask tentatively.
“Two rings, Maura. That’s the max you should make anyone wait,” my mother scolds in greeting.
Wow. That took about two seconds.
“Sorry, my screen froze,” I lie.
“Why didn’t you say that?” Because I had to think of a lie, Mother. “Your father will mail you a new one immediately.”
“That won’t be necessary, mother. I can get—” I stop myself before I say the wrong thing. “I can get through,” I finish.
“Don’t be dumb, Maura. I said your father will send one. My God, be appreciative for once and don’t argue like a brat.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“Well, now you’re patronizing me.”
Someone is super cheery today.
This continues for the next five minutes. Her nitpicking continues, I attempt to correct myself, she corrects me correcting myself. It’s a never-ending cycle.
“Since it took you so long to answer, you’ve made me late for tea with Beth Anne. I’ll have to reschedule, and I hate doing that.” Because you had to wait more than two rings? Sure. “I’ll see you in two weeks, Maura. Make sure you’re on time for your dress fitting. And do not embarrass me.”
And that’s how she disconnects the line.
“Love you too, Mom,” I say to no one.
I close my phone and close my thoughts to any more negativity today because I don’t think I can take it.
I push open the door to Jane’s on Main, where I’m meeting Rae for our retail therapy day. We had to reschedule our girl date from a few days ago after Joey got sick.
“It’s about damn time, woman!” she shouts as I walk in the door.
I automatically glance around the shop, my mom’s words about not embarrassing her fresh in my mind, making me on edge.
“Hey, Maurie,” Jane says from behind the counter. “Got a few fun new blazers in. I think you’d like them.”
“Thanks, Jane,” I tell her as I steer myself toward where they’re located.
She’s right, of course. Jane managed to snag two beautifully crafted jackets. One is white and lined with chunky dark pink Chevrons, while the other is navy with tiny teal sparrows on it. I grab them both and take them up front to start my pile, not bothering to try them on.
Jane shoots me a wink as I set them down. “Told ya.”
“You know me too well.”
“Ugh! Dude, come help me! I suck at this shit!” Rae shouts from behind the dressing room curtain.
Jane shakes her head. “You think that’s bad? She’s been here for ten minutes already. I’ve had to put back ten tops and three dresses. She’s a tough one today.”
“It’s a good thing we love her,” I mock whisper.
“Aw. I love you too. Now come help me,” Rae demands.
I walk over and squeeze into the area with her. She’s trying to zip a pink and purple sundress and failing miserably at it. Plus, the dress is ugly.
“No, no, no. Take it off. It’s all wrong. You need a brighter color but less chaotic. This won’t match your eyes at all,” I tell her, pulling the zipper back down. “Let me go grab you a different dress.”
She’s terrible, I mouth to Jane, who nods at me in return.
I scour through the racks until I find two options that will work for her. I thrust them at her through the side of the curtain. “Try these. But first tell me how it went with Perry.”
She huffs loudly. “It went. He won’t be back to Clyde’s for a while. Now go away, please.”
I laugh and move back out into the shop, continuing to throw things in my pile—which is stacking up because I’m clearly making up for all the crappy days I’ve been having lately—while I wait for her.
Setting a new pair of flats on the counter, Jane catches my eye.
“How’s it going?” she asks. I frown at her. “That good, huh? Parents or Tanner?”
My frown deepens. “Both.”
“Yikes. That sounds like a bundle of fun.”
“You know it,” I deadpan.
“Care to share?”
“Same shit, different day with my parents. Dad still ignores me but continues to fill up my bank account, not paying attention to the fact that I haven’t touched a dime he’s ever deposited. And my mother is still a total bitch.”
“How does he not realize that you don’t spend his money? For a CEO, he’s pretty damn dense,” Jane says honestly.
Here’s the thing, my parents have no idea I work at Clyde’s, because Doughers women do not work. Our sole purpose is to attend charity functions and sit on community boards. That’s it. We marry rich or we marry for status. That’s it.
I have a useless business degree that my parents paid for and it’s entirely for show. All the women in
our family—excluding my aunt—have one and were not ever supposed to use it. I want to. But my father has serious pull in the business world, and I know I’d never get past the application stage. Not with my last name.
My father, John, runs a Fortune 500 company and makes about half a million dollars a month between that and all the other companies he has his hands in. He rubs elbows all day with other rich people and B-list celebrities while he makes a living off everyone else. It’s all such bullshit.
My mother, on the other hand, is absolutely swamped with running her charities—something that would be commendable if she believed in the work she did. But it’s all for show. The real Norah Doughers—the one who gave birth to her daughter and only talks to her to put her down or correct her—is a royal bitch. She’s mean and vindictive.
And unfortunately, that shitty demeanor runs in our family.
If I were to ever tell them I worked at Clyde’s, I’d be disowned instantly. Which doesn’t sound like a horrible idea, but I’m sick enough to yearn for their approval.
As a result, I work at Clyde’s in secret. I only ever use the money I make there to live on and never touch the money my father puts in my account, because it feels wrong to take that money. It feels dirty because I know it’s their way of saying, “We own you, Maura.” And they’d be correct. Mostly.
I sigh, thinking of how much I feel like a science project stuck under their microscope, at how sad it is that I’m twenty-two and still bending to their wills.
“You’d think he’d notice,” I tell Jane. “But nope. Guess that shows how little attention he pays to me. Oh well.”
She gives me a sad smile. “And Tanner? What’s he done?”
How do I go about this one? It’s not my place to tell her Tucker’s story. It was his life that got put on hold over Tanner, so I feel like it all belongs to him. And I don’t want to betray the trust he gave me.
Then I realize how backasswards I’ve got this. I care more about hurting Tucker’s feelings and betraying him than I do Tanner at this point. That’s not a good sign.
Before I can answer her, Jane lets out a low whistle and tips her head, signaling for me to look over my shoulder. I spin around to see Rae, who is absolutely dazzling in the white flowered sundress I picked out for her.
“I hate how right you are about everything,” Rae says excitedly. “I’m fucking hot.”
I laugh, and it feels so good. It’s a hearty, healing laugh that I needed. When I open my eyes back up, Rae’s smirking at me.
“You’re welcome.” She attempts to wink because she knows—she knows—how much that was needed and did it on purpose.
“What are you shopping for dresses for, anyway?” Jane questions.
Rae shrugs. “Wanted something different. Joey’s birthday party is this weekend, and I wanted to dress nicely.”
She has this glint in her eye that only I can see.
“Around a bunch of kids? Something’s up. Spill.”
“It’s just a feeling. I think this weekend will be a good one,” she beams, and I can’t help but smile along with her.
“Oh my gosh. You two girls are so nauseating. All in love and shit.” Jane groans and sinks down on the counter, resting her chin on her hands.
Before I can get my “signal” out to her, Rae shoots me a pitied look.
“I saw that!” Jane springs up. “Tell me, Maurie.”
I glare at Rae, who shrugs.
“It’s nothing. Everything. And nothing all over again,” I tell her.
“Because that isn’t confusing,” Rae mumbles.
“Shut it, Rae,” I throw back. I turn around and mirror the relaxed pose Jane abandoned. “It’s not him, it’s me.” Rae, who walked back to the dressing room to change, starts laughing at my cliché. Loudly. “RAE!”
“Whew. Sorry, sorry. Please continue,” she says through faded giggles.
I shake my head at her, despite the fact that she can’t see me. “Anyway, it’s all complicated. I love him, but I don’t love him like I should.”
“He’s not her ‘The End’!” Rae supplies.
“What she said,” I say to Jane. “We’ve been drifting a lot lately. We go days without speaking actual words to one another, and it doesn’t bother me, so that’s a sign that this relationship isn’t what it should be.”
Jane nods, taking that in. “I’m no relationship expert—unless you count my wild affair with my cat Moose—and even I know that’s not how it should be,” she says. “So. What are you going to do about it?”
I sigh and groan all at once. “Well, he was supposed to be coming home in a couple weeks for one of my parents’ annual dinners, but he now apparently has duty that weekend. I was going to break up with him then, explain it all to him. But since that isn’t happening now, I don’t know. Whenever I see him next?”
“Do you think you should wait?” she questions.
I shrug and drop my hands onto the counter, letting my head fall forward. “I also don’t think I should do it over the phone.”
Jane pats my hand. “I don’t envy you, honey. Not one bit. I can see your struggle. But if you’re not with him for the right reasons, you should set him free. Yourself, too.”
I give her one stiff nod and feel Rae place her hand on my back. “She’s right, Maura. You’re torturing yourself over this. Be honest with him.”
I stand up straight and proud. “I’ll do it next time he’s home. Promise,” I declare.
I ignore the glance Rae and Jane exchange and dig into my purse to pay for my new clothes.
“See you girls next week,” Jane says as we exit. We both throw small waves over our shoulders to her.
“You wanna go get fattening sympathy coffees at Perk?”
Smiling, I say, “You know me so well, Rae.”
She bumps me once. “I’m here, you know. For anything. I’ll always back you up.”
I nod because I know I’m not able to talk past the lump that’s formed in my throat. Then I smile at the oddest thought that runs through my mind.
Suck it, Tucker. I’ve got great friends.
8
Tucker: Wanna ride together to Joe’s party?
This is the probably the tenth time I’ve read Tucker’s text in the last half hour. It still says the same thing, and I still don’t know how to respond.
I want to tell him yes. I want to let my guard down again, shake off my desire to please everyone, especially my parents. I can do that around Tucker in a way I can’t around anyone else, not even Rae.
I also know that I shouldn’t tell him yes simply based on how good it makes me feel to be around him, how normal and natural it all feels.
“Yes” definitely shouldn’t be an option, because I’ve only talked with Tanner three times since last Sunday. Two of the three times was by text. It hasn’t entirely been my fault, because Tanner has been busy this week, but I also haven’t gone out of my way to talk with him when, as his girlfriend, I should. But I don’t.
When we have talked, it’s been stilted. On both ends.
Rather than trying to fix it, we continue our usual push and pull. Because that’s the type of people we are.
I’m tired of being that person. I need to start taking more chances. I need to continue to step out of my “safe bubble” I’ve created over the years, carefully walking that line between who everyone else wants me to be and who I am. I need to start saying yes.
And I know just the place to start.
Me: Yes.
Tucker texts back immediately.
Tucker: 1:30 good?
Me: Yes.
Tucker: Do you know any other words?
Before I can respond, another text comes through.
Tucker: Let me guess…yes?
Someone catches on quick.
Me: Yes.
Tucker: Wow. Laughter is pouring out of me.
Me: YES!!
Tucker: ….
Me: Yes?
Tucker: ARE WE DONE YE
T?
You know how sometimes you text someone ‘LOL’ but don’t in fact LOL? Well, I really did LOL, but I don’t want him to know that. So I go with the best possible answer.
Me: Yes.
Me: Sorry, had to one last time.
Me: See you at 1:30 still?
Tucker: Yes.
Me: I see what you did there…
I set my phone aside and realize that my face hurts. Why in the hell does my face hurt? And then I catch on to what it’s from—smiling so much. Because that’s all I’ve been doing since I texted Tucker back. Five minutes ago.
Jumping out of bed with an extra spring in my step, I head to my closet to get dressed for the birthday party.
I pull out my yellow maxi skirt, white v-neck top, and white crochet Toms. After showering and spending all of five minutes making my hair appear to have “beach waves,” I throw on my outfit and apply a light layer of make-up.
By the time I’m done, I have five minutes to spare. I head into the living room the find Kassi falling asleep eating a bowl of cereal on the couch. She’s been working for the past four days, only getting a few hours of sleep before having to head back. The beauty of being an ER nurse, I guess.
I carefully pull the spoon and bowl out of her hands, setting it on the table while I gently push her down to a sleeping position. As I’m laying a blanket over her, I hear a soft, “Thank you. Love you, kiddo.”
This woman means the world to me. She gives so much of herself to everyone at that hospital but always has a small bit left over to give to me when she comes home exhausted out of her mind.
“I love you more, Aunt Kass.”
As I pick up the cereal to take it into the kitchen, a soft knock sounds at the door.
“Come in,” Kassi says sleepily.
Chuckling, I head to the front door to meet Tucker.
I’m shocked again at the smile that’s plastered on my face when I open the door. A smile that slips when I take in the sight of him, because I realize then how handsome he is in the most effortless way.
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