by Laurie Gene
When he reached the door, he only knocked once before his mother whipped it open, a glare on her lovely face. Her tawny brown hair with streaks of grey was tied back in a loose ponytail and her warm brown eyes—the same ones he saw in his reflection every morning—were narrowed.
"You need to get her out of here and keep her away for a long time," she said through gritted teeth. "I'm serious. I'm thinking we don't even have Thanksgiving together. Wait until Christmas until enough time has passed."
"Mom, Christmas is eight months away," he pointed out.
"You're right. That still seems too soon, doesn’t it?" She touched her chin with a long finger.
Nick sighed. "Mom, I'm here. Just tell me where to go and I will get her out of your hair."
"She's hijacked her grandmother in the den," she said. "Your poor grandma. All she wanted to do was watch Alex Trebek and Pat Sajak. She risked it by coming down the stairs. Now, she can't even turn on the captions because she doesn't want to seem rude. You better hurry before she decides she doesn't care about propriety anymore."
Nick stepped inside, removing his coat as he did so. "And what would grandma do to Bonnie, Mom?"
"How am I supposed to know?" His mom raised her shoulders and then shut the door behind her. "I know I was a crazy kid and I still never gave her the look she has on her face now that Bonnie is here. She might throw the remote at her and leave a nice dent, right in her forehead. Who knows what's going to happen?"
"That was pretty specific," Nick said, heading down the hallway, past family photos and framed doodles he had drawn when he was a child that Gran insisted on hanging up because that boy is an artist. "Are you're sure you're not getting your fantasies and daydreams mixed up again?"
"You're not as funny as you think you are, Nicky," she said. "I'm serious. Christmas, you better get me something sparkly because I do not deserve what I endured putting up with her on your behalf."
"I thought we weren't even going to spend Christmas together," he said with a grin.
"We would," she said, gesturing between the two of them. "You think Gran wouldn't see you on Christmas? She'd have a heart attack at the very thought. Other people would be quietly uninvited from celebrating here."
Nick rolled his eyes but smiled, nonetheless. His mother—and especially his Grandmother—could be so savage when they wanted to be. It would have been amusing if it didn't mean that he would be getting a huge lecture mixed in with lots of complaining on the way home.
He followed her into the den where Gran was attempting to watch Alex Trebek and Bonnie was on her phone, muttering things under her breath and shaking her head.
Nick didn't know if it was because it had been a couple of days since he last saw her, but he was struck with the fact that Bonnie was much more beautiful than he gave her credit for. Unfortunately, with that awareness came the one that seemed to indicate that while he could appreciate her beauty, that was all he could really do. That spark of attraction wasn't there anymore. In fact, just being in this room with her made his body completely tense up, like he was going on the defensive, and he didn't understand why.
"Oh, thank God you're here, Nicky," Gran said, slowly standing up.
The only indication that Bonnie knew he was in the room was the clench of her jaw. She did not take her eyes away from the screen of her phone. Instead, she continued on as though Nick wasn't here at all.
Which was just fine with him. He moved into the room so he could give Gran a tight hug. She circled her arms around his shoulders, reaching up as best as her body would allow her.
"How are you?" Nick asked, stepping away from her.
Gran gave a look to Bonnie from her peripheral before looking up at Nick with wide eyes. She didn't need to say anything for him to know what that meant.
"Bonnie," Nick said without looking at her. Gran's shoulders sagged with relief and Nick helped her back in her seat before turning to Bonnie. "You ready?"
"Ready for what?" Bonnie asked, her tone genuinely unsure what it was he was asking.
He didn’t know if he should be annoyed or surprised. Bonnie always seemed to understand exactly what was going on in any situation, and she wanted others to know that she knew just as much as well. Looking at her now, all Nick really knew was that she was annoyed but unsure like she couldn’t trust what to expect from him. Strange, since she typically had much more confidence than this.
"Are you ready to go home?" Nick asked.
"Am I welcome there?" Bonnie asked, shooting her eyes up at Nick. "I mean, you left me at the wedding—"
"You chose to stay there," Nick corrected. "I told you I wanted to leave. I told you to come with me. But you didn't."
"Why should I have to leave my friend's wedding?" Bonnie said, bottom lip trembling.
Gran cleared her throat. Nick knew that was her polite way of kicking them out of the den.
"Listen, I'm not going to talk to you about this here," he said to Bonnie, enunciating each word carefully like he wanted to make sure he didn't offend while also getting his point across. "My grandmother is clearly trying to watch a show and I don't want to be rude, especially considering she allowed you in her home for a couple of days. She didn't have to do that."
"She's family," Bonnie pointed out, scrunching her face. "Of course she should do that. I'm going to be her granddaughter."
Nick bit his lip as he walked over to his grandmother and gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a gentle squeeze. Nick smiled despite himself. Gran always knew how to give the best hugs.
"See you this weekend, Gran," he murmured.
She nodded, patted his cheek, and turned her attention back to the television.
He crossed the room where Bonnie was waiting, arms over her chest, before walking past her and heading down the hallway. He gave his mother a kiss, thanked her, and headed outside.
Bonnie did say goodbye, but Nick noticed that she hadn't even thanked them for their hospitality, hadn't thanked them for welcoming in their home even though they didn't have to do that. Bonnie could think they were family, but they were his family. They didn't have to do any of that, but they did. And Bonnie couldn't even thank them for it.
Nick opened the passenger door of his mother's car and waited until Bonnie slid inside. When he closed her door, he sighed.
He was suddenly struck with a thought. He didn't want this anymore. He didn't want to be with someone who thought she was entitled to everything, who expected the world and couldn't even say thank you.
He was over it.
He sat in the driver's seat, started the engine, and drove out of the community. Bonnie returned to scrolling down the screen of her phone. He remained silent, stewing with his thoughts. The closer he got to home, however, the more resistant he was.
"I can't do this anymore." The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.
"What?" Bonnie asked, shooting him a glare. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about how I don't want to be with you anymore," Nick said. "My grandmother opened up her home to you and you can't say thank you. And that's just one issue I have. I'm just—I'm not happy with you and I highly doubt you're happy with me. Where can I take you? Because I don't want you to come home with me tonight. I don't want you in my house again."
He pressed his lips together. Even to him, that sounded harsh.
But he wouldn't take the words back. Not when he finally found the courage to say them.
Bonnie stared at him, blinking, for several long moments.
"You'll regret this," she said at length through gritted teeth. "I don't know what's making you act this way, but I guarantee you'll regret this."
"I don't think I will," Nick said, his lips curving up. "I feel better already."
Chapter 10: Abby
"Sir?" Abby asked, popping her head into Nick's office. She curled her fingers into a tight fist to keep herself from fiddling with her bangs. "Your i
nterview is here."
"My interview?" he whispered, looking over the top of his laptop.
Abby didn't know much about what was going on in Nick's life. She wasn't as close to him as Pam was, but she hopes to build that trust with him over time.
However, between Monday and Tuesday, something had changed and now it was Thursday and nothing had improved. It was as though there was a weight on his shoulders. The playful sparkle had disappeared, and instead, his lips were always pressed together and his forehead was lined with wrinkles. So many times throughout her day, she caught herself staring at him with the itch to take her hands and smooth those wrinkles out.
Luckily, he hadn't noticed her staring, but that could change if she wasn't careful.
She knew things with Bonnie weren't great—if his behavior at the wedding last week was any indication—but Abby didn't think it was that bad. Couples fought and moved on, right?
No, apparently not, because now he was forgetting meetings and important interviews.
"For the masquerade?" she reminded him. "The ball's in a few weeks and they want to talk to you about the guest list, and the location—everything, I guess. Remember, I mentioned it Monday, and then Tuesday, and then yesterday?"
Bonnie was back. Nick hadn't told her—why in the hell would he tell her something like that?—but she had walked in on him on the phone Tuesday afternoon and he kept saying Bon, so she assumed, at the very least, that they were on speaking terms.
Which sucked.
Her stomach pooled with guilt. She didn't like rooting for the demise of a relationship. She wasn't a hater and refused to be miserable and wish that same misery on everyone else. She had enough experience with that sort of behavior in her own home. But she noticed a difference in Nick’s attitude when Bonnie was away, and it was a positive one. And Abby wanted to protect Nick, to make sure he was always happy.
Which sounded so silly when she thought about it because this was not a fairytale, this was the real world, with real people and real problems.
"Oh, yeah." He shook his head and placed his hands on his desk. "That interview. Shit. How's my—I don't even think I've brushed my teeth since lunch. Can you—Would you mind stalling him?"
"Of course not." Abby gave him a smile and ducked out, shutting the door. She turned and headed back to the lobby, a bright smile on her face as she approached the journalist who sat in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. "He's on the line with an important client, but he should only be a few more minutes."
"Thank you."
Abby nodded and took a seat at her desk. She shot Pamela a quick email, asking for any updates on her contractions and how she was feeling. Abby always thought April was the perfect time to have babies because it wasn't too hot and it wasn't too cold.
Her fingers clicked on the keyboard as she responded to emails, added things to Nick's calendar, and rejected them just as often. There were many women who thought they could email him inappropriate pictures of themselves, something Abby hadn't expected when she started working here but had to deal with all the same. Pamela specifically said not to even mention it to Nick because it might feed his ego.
When the door clicked open from the office, Abby stood up and headed to the break room.
"Hey," she heard Nick say. "Sorry about the wait. I hope it wasn't too long."
"You're all good..."
Abby focused on grabbing coffee for both of them as well as snacks and water bottles. Pamela had said Nick tended to speak a lot and hated when his mouth got dry, so water was always a must during any interview.
When Abby stepped into the office with the drinks and the snacks on a cart, the interview had already begun.
"...real credit goes to Pamela, my executive assistant," Nick said. "She's on maternity leave right now, which is such a shame because she came up with the concept of the whole thing. She was the one scheduling the designers, the speakers, designing the invitations, handling the RSVP's, and let me tell you, I watched her do that for five minutes and I got a migraine. Just dealing with food allergies and things like that. Pamela is a star and she deserves all the credit."
The interviewer turned to Abby. "And this is...?"
Abby straightened, glancing between Nick and the interviewer. She shifted weight from one foot to the other. She didn't like to be scrutinized, especially by strangers, and especially by men who didn't seem to think that what they were doing was wrong at all.
Technically, he wasn't wrong for staring, but it did make her feel uncomfortable and he didn't seem to mind that.
"This is Abby," Nick said, his voice curt. "She's stepped in to help with Pamela out, but she's doing an excellent job. What do you have for us, Abs?"
"Coffee, water, and pretzels, in case anyone got hungry," she said. "I'm not sure how long this interview is, but I'm happy to put an order out if you need to. I know we're getting close to lunch."
"I don't think that'll be necessary," he said. "Walter's nearly finished with the interview, aren't you?"
"Actually," Walter said. "We just started and there are questions that require an in-depth answer. If you wouldn't mind, there's a great deli down the street."
Abby looked at Nick, waiting for him to tell her what to do. Annoyance flared in her chest though she couldn't quite understand why. The interviewer reminded her of Trixie and Saffron, looking at her—looking through her—like she was as insignificant as the dust currently occupying the frames of Nick's prestigious awards and degrees. It wasn't as though Abby cared one way or the other if people liked her, and if people treated her like dirt on their shoe, fine. But she was still a person, and at the very least, she wanted to be asked, to be considered, before assuming she would do something.
The only exception to this, of course, was Nick. He was her boss and having him tell her what to do was what she signed up for. As such, if he told her to go to the deli, wait nearly an hour in line because it was just around lunchtime and that deli always got busy for lunch, and grab two sandwiches, she would do it and she wouldn't complain because this was her job.
"I'm sorry, I have an appointment at one o'clock," Nick said, standing up, leaving no room for argument. "If you have any follow-up questions, feel free to email them over."
"Wait," Walter said. "I waited for you. I scheduled this appointment. All I'm trying to do is get a statement about the masquerade—"
"No," Nick said curtly. "You're not."
Abby's eyes widened. She had never heard Nick speak to someone like that before. Granted, she hadn't known Nick a long time, but it felt unnatural for his tone to be so sharp when he was typically a laidback guy who didn't seem to mind journalists.
"You're looking for a splashy story that will grab you headlines," Nick continued. "I thought The Journal was supposed to focus on the truth, not on gossip."
"So, you and Bonnie didn't break up," Walter stated, coming to his feet. "I'm hearing people from her camp are trying to shop an exclusive. One sentence from you would take away that power and force her to drop her asking price."
Nick glared. Abby never really understood the phrase If looks could kill until right now. Her mouth went dry at Bonnie's name, but upon hearing that the two broke up...
"Get out of my office," Nick said, his voice low and deadly.
A shiver wiggled down her spine and she was glad she wasn't on the other end of that glare or tone.
When Walter left, Abby shifted her weight. She wasn't sure where to go from here. She didn't want to just leave—that would make everything awkward—and she definitely wasn't going to ask if Nick was okay even though she was curious. But she did think she should say something, she just didn't know what.
"Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?" She finally forced herself to ask. It felt safe enough without crossing any lines.
Nick looked up from his desk, as though Abby had pulled him from a daze.
"Did you get something to wear for the masquerade?" he asked.
She nodded. "I di
d," she said. "I put the card back with the receipts. Thank you for that."
Nick waved her appreciation away.
"Can I ask you a question?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's kind of personal so feel free to say no. I don't want to put you in an uncomfortable position."
"Uh, sure." Abby wasn't sure where he was going with this, but she was curious. "Fire away."
"If you got into a fight with your boyfriend and you didn't come home because you were angry with him, where would you go?" he asked.
Abby pressed her lips together. "Well, I don't have a boyfriend," she said, "so I don't have to worry about that. However, if I did, I would probably just go to our place. If we're having issues, I would hope we would be able to work through them without involving anyone else. Even if we need space, we can still take it under the same roof. But if I had to pick? Probably my friend's place."
Nick nodded. Abby desperately wanted to ask why he was asking. She knew this had to have something to do with Bonnie and why the two weren't together anymore, but she refused to ask. She didn't want to come across as someone who was happy because of someone else's misery.
Even if that someone else was Bonnie who had been nothing but rude the one time they met.
"Sir," Abby said, taking a step inside the office. "This is none of my business, and I really hope you don't fire me for what I'm going to say, but anyway, I already started talking so here it goes: it's okay to change your mind. It's okay to fall out of love or to realize it wasn't love in the first place. It's okay to feel sad by your loss and relieved that it's over."
Nick's lips turned up though the grin didn't quite reach his eyes. "Am I that obvious?"
"It's not that," Abby said. "To me, it seems like this decision carries great weight for you. But really, all you need to do in order to figure out if you made the right decision is answer this: what did you feel right after you did it? If it was uncertainty or doubt, maybe you should give yourself time to figure out if you acted too quickly. But if it was relief... you made the right decision."
