Desperate Chances

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Desperate Chances Page 15

by A. Meredith Walters


  “So how long are you home for?” she asked.

  I picked at my thumbnail, dreading this part. Telling my family that the dream was most likely dead. And now I was stuck without a clue.

  “Not sure. We have a call with the label next week.”

  “You don’t sound too thrilled about that. What’s going on?” Charlotte was doing her big sister thing and being nosy. I knew she wasn’t trying to piss me off, but her questions still made me defensive.

  “Does it matter? I don’t really want to talk about our shit tour and whether or not people are buying our music,” I snapped.

  “Damn, Mitchie, are you on your man period or something?” Charlotte laughed, not bothered by my bad attitude.

  “Whatever. How about we talk about the fact that somehow, someway, you and that loser Craig were able to procreate and make something that awesome.” I looked into the living room where Mom was playing with Maddy on the floor. Maddy was giggling and clapping her hands.

  Charlotte’s face darkened at the mention of her ex. “Loser is right.”

  “He still hasn’t seen Maddy?” I asked and Charlotte shook her head.

  “Dad says I should go after him for child support, but part of me doesn’t want him to have any hold on her. Even though I could really use the extra cash, I don’t want to take it and have him decide in a year or two years that maybe he wants to be in her life. Then have her get all attached only to have him fuck off again when it suits him. He’s a flake. Always has been. I should have known he’d bail the moment things got tough. So let him be a deadbeat, she’s better off without him. We both are.” Charlotte said emphatically but I could see the pain in her eyes.

  I squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, Char. You both deserve better than that.”

  Charlotte wiped her eyes and gave me a watery smile. “Yeah, well not all guys are selfish dicks. You wouldn’t punk out your own kid. Our parents raised you right.”

  “Damn straight,” I agreed.

  “You’ll be a great dad, Mitch. Your future kids will be lucky to have you.”

  Shit, this was getting all mushy.

  “You say that now. We’ll see how you feel when I take Maddy to her first heavy metal concert when she’s seven.”

  Charlotte pursed her lips. “Over my dead body, kid.”

  I patted her hand. “What you don’t know won’t hurt you.”

  “Well, speaking of possible future kiddos, how is Gracie?” she asked and I blinked in confusion.

  “Gracie?”

  Charlotte gave me a funny look. “Uh, your girlfriend dumbass.”

  My stomach heaved like it always did at the mention of her name. “Gracie was never my girlfriend,” I corrected her.

  Now it was Charlotte’s turn to look confused. “Wait, Mom’s mentioned a girlfriend, I just assumed—”

  “Sophie. Her name is Sophie,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Sophie? Why have I never heard of a Sophie? You used to bring Gracie around all the time. Why is there a Sophie now and not a Gracie?”

  “Jeez, Char, we were only friends. Nothing else.” God, it seemed all I was doing lately was talk about Gracie Cook.

  “Oh. I just thought—”

  “You thought wrong, sis. So drop it,” I all but snarled.

  “Touchy, touchy. Damn, Mitchie. Take my head off why don’t you?” My sister looked irritated.

  “Sorry,” I muttered. Maddy’s giggles drifted in from the living room making us both smile. It was amazing how quickly we could get over our annoyance with each other. Babies were amazing things.

  “How about we steal your daughter from Mom so she can have some cool Uncle Mitch time?” I suggested, getting to my feet.

  Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “You’re changing the subject. I know you and you don’t want to talk about Gracie. Which means something juicy happened.”

  “Dude, I’m going to hang out with my niece. She doesn’t grill me about things that are none of her business,” I said pointedly.

  “I’ll get it out of you eventually. Remember the broken window? I got to the truth of that too,” Charlotte teased and I gave her a playful shove.

  “Charlotte, I was ten. You threatened to eat all of the Oreos. I was weak. I think I can withstand whatever you want to dish out.”

  Charlotte put her arm around my shoulders. “We’ll see, Mitchie.”

  “Gracie, I just finished reading your latest piece,” my editor, Kate Powers, said over the phone.

  I was in the middle of taking a drink of my tea but my hand stopped in mid-air, teacup poised in front of my mouth.

  “Oh. You did?” I asked a little breathlessly. I had barely scrapped my article together. After the flat tire debacle and the crazy weekend in Norfolk I had been late in getting the piece to her. I figured this was the customary ass chewing phone call for not meeting my deadline.

  I could hear Kate clicking her pen over and over again. I mostly worked remotely so I had only met Kate a handful of times. She was a little on the stessy side with mismatched earrings and chronic bed head. But she was tough and expected the best from her staff.

  “How the hell you made that falling down estate sound interesting is beyond me. I’m more than a little impressed,” she said, still clicking her pen.

  I put my teacup down and gripped the phone tightly in my hand. Wait…so she wasn’t chewing me out? “It was interesting? Really?” I squeaked.

  “Well, as interesting as hedges and topiaries can be, but yes. I really liked how you interwove the owner’s personal history as a Vietnam nurse into the story. It really gave it a unique touch. I’ve decided to make it the cover story for next month.”

  I leaned heavily against the counter. “Are you serious?”

  Kate chuckled. “Oh, I’m very serious. In fact, I wanted to talk to you about possibly coming on fulltime. You’ve been freelancing with us for over a year and your articles are some of the best in the magazine. We’re going to be expanding our online offerings and I’m opening up a rec for a fulltime staff writer. Would you be interested?”

  I almost choked. “Are you serious?” I repeated.

  “Yes. I promise you, I’m serious,” Kate replied shortly. “So, we’ve established that I’m very, very serious. What do you think? That would mean you’d be expected to work from the office as opposed to remotely. Do you think that would be a problem?”

  I was having a hard time formulating sentences. My mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Sure, Southern Gardens magazine wasn’t a hard-hitting publication covering current events but it was a step in the right direction. I would be writing. And making money doing it. That was all I wanted.

  “Gracie? Are you still there?” Kate asked, sounding slightly annoyed. Shit. I needed to give her an answer.

  “No, Kate, that won’t be a problem. And yes! I’m interested! Thank you! Thank you so much!” I let out in a rush.

  “You’re welcome. I wouldn’t have offered it if you didn’t deserve it. You’re a talented writer, Gracie.”

  “Thank you, that means a lot to hear you say that,” I told her sincerely, hardly able to believe what was happening.

  “Okay, well come into the office on Monday and we’ll get you sorted. I’m glad to have you on board fulltime. I think it will be a good fit for everyone,” Kate concluded.

  “I do too. I’ll see you Monday,” I said and then hung up. I put down my phone and started jumping up and down in the middle of the kitchen.

  “Woohoo! I’m so awesome!” I sang, waving my hands in the air.

  “What’s with the dance party?” Cole asked, padding into the room with socked feet and no shirt. And no pants. Yep, except for the socks, he was naked. What else was new? I averted my eyes and stared at the chipped paint above the refrigerator. Viv and I were going to have to have a serious talk about her boyfriend’s aversion to clothing.

  “I just got offered a fulltime job at Southern Gardens magazine,” I said excitedly, making the mistake of lo
oking at him and then covering my eyes. “Dude, can you put something on? I don’t want to see your schlong when I really want to scream and jump around about my new fulltime job.”

  Cole chuckled. “Okay, your eyes are safe.”

  I peeked between my fingers and saw that he was now wearing boxers. Where the hell had he been hiding those? Up his ass crack?

  Cole filled the coffee maker with water and turned it on. “That’s great, G. Congratulations,” he said, his words punctuated by a yawn and a scratch to his now hidden junk.

  I could overlook his exhibitionist tendencies just this once. I grabbed his hands and started shaking them up and down. “Come on, jump around with me, Cole!” I commanded, wiggling his arms.

  He lifted a fist into the air and gave me a limp fist pump. “Woohoo! Go Gracie!”

  “Why are you woohooing Gracie?” Vivian asked, slapping her boyfriend’s ass as she breezed into the kitchen looking like she had just gotten back from a photo shoot as opposed to rolling out of bed. I knew that she had just been frantically applying makeup and styling her hair after Cole had left the room. My roommate didn’t believe in messy hair and morning breath. It was against her religion.

  “G got a job,” Cole explained as he handed her a cup of coffee.

  Vivian’s eyes widened and she shrieked loudly. “Oh my god! You did? What job? Tell me!”

  Cole covered his ears with his hands. “You guys are so loud in the morning,” he moaned as he trudged back to Vivian’s bedroom.

  “Come on, Gracie, don’t leave me hanging!” Vivian prompted.

  “Kate, my editor at Southern Gardens magazine, was impressed with my latest article and asked if I wanted the fulltime position she just opened up. I am now officially a fulltime journalist,” I told her. She screamed dramatically and started shaking her hips in a dance and I wiggled along with her.

  When we finally settle down, Vivian squeezed my hands. “This calls for a celebration! We need to go out!”

  “Viv, it’s not even lunchtime,” I pointed out.

  “So! I’m calling Maysie and we’re having an impromptu lunch date at Barton’s! My treat.” She pulled out her phone and typed out a text to Maysie. “Now go put on something cute,” she instructed. She walked down the hallway back towards her room. “Cole! Get dressed! We’re taking Gracie to lunch!” she yelled before slamming her bedroom door.

  I picked up my phone and wondered who else I could call to share my good news with.

  I thought briefly about calling my parents but I didn’t want their negativity to put a damper on my good mood.

  Mitch…

  That was out of the question.

  So I put my phone back down and went and got dressed, wondering when he’d stop being my first thought.

  And my last one.

  “Okay, this calls for a toast. Everyone raise your glasses,” Maysie shouted over the loud conversation at our table.

  We were all crowded into a long booth at the back of Barton’s. Maysie, Jordan, Vivian, Cole, and myself were gorging on mozzarella sticks and potato skins as we waited for our lunch orders to show up. Everyone was excited for me and I was reminded again why I had the best friends in the world.

  “To Gracie! Who is on her way to conquering the world!” Maysie toasted, giving me a wide smile.

  “Yep, conquering the world one overgrown garden at a time,” I snarked.

  Vivian kissed my cheek loudly and I was pretty sure she left a lipstick smear behind. “To Gracie!” she saluted.

  “To Gracie!” Jordan and Cole yelled as loud as they could.

  “To Gracie!” Dina, the bartender and the rest of the wait staff shouted. Everyone in the restaurant clapped, even though I knew they had no idea what they were clapping about. But it felt pretty damn awesome.

  “You guys having a party and didn’t invite me?”

  And there went my good mood. My heart did a slam-dunk into my shoes.

  “Hey man, what are you doing here? I thought you were spending the day with Sophie,” Jordan said, sliding down the booth to give Mitch room to sit down.

  “Yeah, well she’s got stuff to do today,” he said offhandedly as he squished in beside Jordan and smack dab across from me. Our knees bumped under the table and he gave me a half smile.

  “Hey Gracie,” he greeted and I inclined my head in acknowledgment.

  There was a brief moment of silence where everyone seemed to recognize the rise in tension.

  We’ll be old friends that used to be close but have drifted apart.

  “So what’s everyone celebrating?” Mitch asked.

  “Gracie got a new job!” Vivian announced, bumping my shoulder.

  Mitch’s eyes sparkled in my direction. “You did? That’s awesome, G. What kind of job is it?”

  He called me G again. I loved that he still did that. Sometimes.

  Then he gave me his stomach turning, heart-flipping smile.

  “I’ve been taken on as a fulltime staff writer at Southern Gardens magazine. It’s really no big deal—”

  “No big deal? That’s a huge deal! You’re getting to write! That’s what you’ve always wanted to do!” Mitch enthused.

  I couldn’t help but smile back. He seemed so genuinely happy for me that joy spread from the tips of my fingers all the way down to my toes. “Yeah. I’m pretty stoked.”

  Then I felt his foot lightly kick mine under the table. My gaze flickered up and met his. “I’m really proud of you,” he said softly and for a second we were the only ones at the table.

  Just Mitch and Gracie…

  “Boys! It’s so good to have you back at Barton’s!” Mitch’s eyes tore away from mine and looked up at the man who had appeared beside our table.

  Mitch moved his foot away so that it was no longer touching mine. But that was okay. Because we were just old friends.

  Why did that sound so depressing?

  “Hey, Moore,” Jordan said, shaking the manager of Barton’s hand.

  “So,” Moore rubbed his hands together and gave them a cheesy smile. “What are the chances I could get you guys to play here next weekend? We’ve had a cancellation and it would be wonderful to have a successful local band playing on their old stage again. It would be great for business.”

  Jordan, Mitch, and Cole all shared a look. “I don’t know, Moore—”

  “I’ll pay you of course,” Moore interrupted.

  “It’s not about the money. We just have some shit going on next week—” Jordan went on.

  Maysie leaned into her fiancé and put her hand on his arm. “Come on, Jordan, it’s just one show. It would be amazing to have you guys play here again. It’ll be like old times.”

  Jordan gave her an indulgent smile. He would never say no now.

  “Well, Garrett gets back from Massachusetts on Monday. I guess we could play Saturday night,” Jordan began.

  Cole shrugged. “Sure, I’m down. What do you say, Mitch?”

  Mitch smacked his hand down on top of the table. “Let’s do it. It’ll be nice to play to a full crowd again.”

  Moore clasped Jordan’s shoulder. “Fantastic! It’ll be a great show. I’ll have Dina bring over some drinks to celebrate having the Rejects back on their old stomping ground. She’s created a special concoction just for the bar.”

  “Okay, sounds good,” Jordan said.

  Dina came by with a tray full of drinks. She placed one down in front of each of us. My mouth all but watered at the sight. Vivian picked it up and sniffed. “What’s in it?”

  “It’s vodka and cranberry juice with some schnapps and other things thrown in. We’re calling it the Barton Reject in honor of the boys.” Mitch and Cole laughed and Jordan raised his glass in a salute.

  Vivian and Cole downed their drinks. Maysie handed hers to Jordan and he set them aside. “You’re not going to drink it?” Vivian asked Maysie frowning.

  Maysie obviously hadn’t told everyone about her new bundle of joy. She shook her head. “It’s a little e
arly in the day to be boozing it up, don’t you think?”

  Vivian grabbed Maysie’s discarded drink and swallowed half of it. She gave us all a wobbly smile, the alcohol obviously already having an effect. She always had been a cheap date. “It’s 5:00 somewhere.”

  I swirled the straw around my drink, dunking the cherry and watching it pop back up. I really wanted a taste. What would it hurt? Just one little drink didn’t mean I would have to have the whole thing. I wondered if it tasted as good as it smelled.

  “Let me get that out of your way.” Mitch reached across the table and slid my temptation to the end of the table and replaced it with a glass of water.

  “Oh. Uh, thanks,” I stammered, feeling ashamed for my slip up.

  Mitch lifted his shoulders nonchalantly. He was used to riding to my rescue.

  “So I want to hear more about this new job,” Mitch said to me.

  “Thanks,” I replied instead of answering him.

  He didn’t ask what for. We both knew what I was referring to. It wasn’t just him taking the drink away. It wasn’t just him taking an interest in my new job.

  It was everything he had ever done for me.

  Mitch knocked his leg against mine again and gave me a sweet, sweet smile. “I read your last article about the Japanese beetle problem in the state. I had no idea they were so destructive.”

  I made a choking noise. “You read Southern Garden magazine?” I asked him incredulously.

  Mitch ducked his head shyly. “I like the stories.”

  “Yeah, and I bet you read Playboy for the articles too, buddy,” Cole mocked, wiggling his eyebrows and glancing at me.

  I ignored Cole. It was the easiest thing to do. I grinned at Mitch though and his cheeks turned red. Was that because of me?

  “I should have known you were a closet dendrophiliac,” I teased.

  “What in the hell is a dendrophiliac?” Mitch scoffed, trying not to laugh.

  I leaned forward and Mitch leaned forward too. “You get turned on by trees,” I whispered and he let out a loud laugh.

  “You’re making that up!” he accused.

  I widened my eyes innocently. “Nope. It’s totally a thing. Google it.”

 

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