Tales of a Sibby Slicker (The Sibby Chronicles Book 2)

by Samantha Garman

  My tone softened. “Listen, I’m really sorry. I’m hormonal and she”—I pointed to my mother—“stole all the coffee in my house.”

  The trembling of the barista’s chin stabilized. “That sounds awful.”

  “It’s for your own good,” my mother said. The anger in her tone had disappeared, and she suddenly sounded tired.

  “You haven’t involved me,” I told her. “You and Aidan have talked and bulldozed over my feelings, my wants.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “I got carried away, didn’t I?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “I’m sorry, Sibby. I’m just excited and I… It’s no excuse. You’re right. You’re a grown woman. You and Aidan can handle this yourself.”

  I let out a laugh. “Like hell we can! I’m terrified.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes. I need you, Mom.”

  “You do?”

  I nodded. “But maybe, I could need you from Atlanta?”

  She laughed and moved to hug me with one arm, the Pumpkin Spice Latte in the other hand. There was the sound of clapping, and when my mother pulled away, there were tears at the corners of her eyes.

  “Look at us, making a scene.” She wiped her cheeks and looked down at the latte. She took a sip, her eyes lighting up. “Oh my goodness, that’s delicious!”

  I wrapped my arm around my mother’s shoulders. “You’re my mom and I love you. But if you don’t give that back and get your own, I might have to hurt you.”

  My mother stood by the apartment door, her wheeled suitcase packed and ready to go. She’d changed her flight and had even sweet-talked the customer service rep to upgrade her to first class. My mother had mad skills. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “I will,” I said, giving her a hug.

  “You too,” she told Aidan.

  He bent down to hug my mother. “Thanks for everything.”

  “Yeah, Mom. Thanks.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “That almost sounded sincere.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It was sincere.”

  “There’s my girl.” She touched my cheek and leaned in to whisper. “You’re gonna be fine.”

  Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to hear that until that very moment. “Thank you.”

  “One more hug,” she said. “And then the Uber guy might drive off.”

  “Let me grab your suitcase,” Aidan said, wheeling the baggage out into the hall and carrying it downstairs.

  “Don’t be mad at him,” Mom said.

  “I’m not mad at Aidan.”

  She cocked her head to one side. “Yes, you are. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t your fault. But accidents happen, and you of all people should know that sometimes the best detours lead you to some pretty spectacular places.”

  My throat closed with emotion. “He talked to you, didn’t he?”

  She nodded.

  I wasn’t sure I liked my mother seeing the dirty laundry of my marriage.

  “You’ll be fine. You both will be fine.”

  “Yeah, now that I have coffee back in the house.”

  She laughed. “Moderation. That’s all I’m saying.”

  I hugged her again and said into her hair, “Thanks again, Mom. We’ll see you and Dad soon.”

  “For Thanksgiving?” she asked hopefully.

  “We’ll see.”

  She left and a moment later, Aidan came back, shutting the door. “She’s off,” he said.

  “We’re alone again?” I asked.

  “We are.”

  “Good.” I jumped into his arms and wrapped my legs around his waist. “I missed you these last few days.”

  His blue eyes lit with desire. “I’ve missed you too.”

  “You still think I’m sexy?”

  “Incredibly.”

  “Then let’s get in bed and do the horizontal hora. One dance I’m actually good at.”

  Chapter 17

  #saltmeetwound

  “YAY!” Nat squealed, hugging me to her. “You’re having a baby!”

  “Don’t remind her,” Annie said. She sat in the red diner booth, sipping on weak coffee. “Her mom reminds her every five seconds.”

  Nat shrugged off her boho bag and slid into the unoccupied booth across from Annie. “She left, right?”

  “Yesterday. I have my apartment back,” I said. “And my husband back.”

  “Tell her what happened with your mother at Starbucks,” Annie needled.

  I glared at her as I took a seat next to Nat. I couldn’t show my face in that Starbucks ever again. Even after leaving a massive tip, I’d always be remembered as the pregnant girl with a dramatic mother.

  “Something happened at Starbucks?” Nat asked. “Tell me everything!”

  I’d told Nat countless stories of my mother. She’d always listened with equal parts fascination and disbelief. After I recounted what had occurred at Starbucks and Nat stopped laughing, I said, “Can we not talk about it? Please? It was a rough few days.”

  “Parents get weird when they’re about to be grandparents,” Nat said in commiseration. “Tad’s mother turned into a full-on nightmare.”

  “I thought she was already a nightmare,” Annie interjected.

  “A nightmare on steroids. At least your mother loves you, Sibby. I’m just the girl Tad knocked up and then married.”

  “I’m sure she doesn’t think that,” I said.

  “Oh, yes, she does. Last Christmas, she got drunk and told me this.”

  I stared at her in mute horror.

  “That’s pretty bad,” Annie said. “Last Christmas, my mom got drunk and threw a fork at my father.”

  “Why did she throw a fork at your father?” Nat wondered.

  “Because he’s my father.” She took a sip of her coffee as if her explanation was an actual explanation. Then again, it made total sense why they were divorcing.

  “I’m glad I celebrate Hanukkah,” I said. “I popped so many bubbles in fifth grade when I told the entire class that Santa wasn’t real.”

  Nat and Annie laughed.

  “I had no filter.”

  “What’s changed?” Annie teased.

  “I miss this,” Nat wailed in feigned misery. “I miss you guys. I hate that I have to leave tonight. I love New York. I’d move back in a heartbeat.”

  “Tell Annie not to leave,” I demanded. “She’s ditching me, just like you ditched me.”

  “You’re leaving the city?” Nat asked, mouth agape. “Why the hell would you do that?”

  “Need a change,” Annie said.

  Nat looked at me and then at Annie. We all understood what Annie really meant: she wanted a change of scene that didn’t remind her of Caleb.

  “Where are you going?” Nat asked, skating past what could’ve been an awkward emotional moment.

  “Montauk. My uncle owns a seafood restaurant, and I’m going to go up there and cook for him. Get my head on straight, hopefully.

  “Live on the beach? Get a tan?” Nat asked.

  Annie laughed. “Yeah.”

  “Okay, never mind. Fuck Manhattan, I want to go to Montauk.”

  “Next summer, you both should come up there. It’s gorgeous in the summer.”

  “Next summer, I’ll be ready to drop Pierogi. My due date is the end June,” I explained, looking around for the absent waitress. Seriously, my blood sugar was dropping to dangerous levels.

  Annie frowned in confusion. “Pierogi?”

  My cheeks flushed with heat. “Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Pierogi is the nickname we gave—” I gestured to my stomach. “So we don’t have to keep calling it—it.”

  “Wow.” Annie leaned back in the booth. “You did it. You became that person.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I drummed my fingers on the table. “Was I this bad when I waited tables at Antonio’s?”

  Nat snorted. “No. You were very attentive.”

  The sound of silverware and plates dro
pping form somewhere behind the closed kitchen door clanged through the diner.

  I looked at Nat. “That could’ve been me.”

  Nat laughed. “Oh yeah. That definitely could’ve been you.”

  “What’ll you have?” a waitress asked, appearing as if our hangriness had summoned her like a genie in a bottle.

  “The Tootie Fruitie waffle, extra whipped cream, please,” Annie said, closing her menu.

  Nat stared at the menu and pointed. “I’ll have the steak and eggs. Medium and over easy, please.”

  “And for you?” the waitress asked.

  “The granola, fruit, and yogurt. A side of steamed spinach. Oh, and a large orange juice.” I handed the waitress my menu and then she left.

  “What the hell kind of order was that?” Annie demanded.

  I sighed. “I became that person, remember?”

  After breakfast, the three of us said goodbye and went our separate ways. Nat had to get back to her hotel and check out, and Annie still had packing to do. It was amazing how we were all at these different points in our lives: Nat was a mother, Annie was as lost as she’d ever been, and I…well, I was somewhere in between.

  Sometimes I felt like I’d just figured out my place in the world—and then bam. I was fired, or dumped, or knocked up.

  It was time to take some control back.

  I walked into Veritas and sat down at the bar. It was the middle of the day, and the bar wasn’t technically open, which was why I’d come now instead of later when it got busy.

  His back was to me, and he was holding a clipboard, cataloguing the liquors. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said without turning.

  “Yeah, I have been,” I admitted quietly.

  Caleb clipped the pencil to the top of the clipboard and then set it aside. “I suppose congratulations are in order?” He turned to look at me, a small smile on his lips.

  “If you’re feeling charitable.”

  “Congratulations, Sibby. Aidan’s over the moon. I’m happy for you both.” There were shadows underneath his brown eyes, and he looked leaner than the last time I’d seen him.

  “How are you doing?” I asked him.

  “Hanging in there. Working a lot.” He retrieved a pint glass and filled it with water. Setting it down in front of me, he waited.

  I picked up the glass of water and took a sip. “What she did to you was complete and utter shit.”

  He blinked and then smiled. “It was complete and utter shit, wasn’t it?”

  “Absolutely,” I agreed. “She’s wrong in how she handled her emotions, and she’s wrong in how she treated you.”

  “Do you…” He swallowed. “Do you know why? Because for the life of me, I never could get her to talk to me.”

  “She’s clammed shut. Annie’s…not like me. I’m sure you know how I handle things.” I smiled.

  “Aidan might’ve clued me in,” Caleb evaded with a rueful grin.

  “I came here to make it right with you, between you and me.”

  “I get it, Sib. I’m Aidan’s best friend and business partner. I was Annie’s boyfriend. But you and I—we don’t have to be friends.”

  I reached over the bar and bopped him on the head. “Are you being serious right now?”

  He rubbed his head and frowned. “Uh, that hurt.”

  “No, it didn’t.” I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, Caleb. I thought we were friends in our own right. Are you telling me that’s not the case?”

  “I—what are you going to do when I start dating other women? You want me to tell you about it?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “How’s what’s-her-face?”

  “How did you—Aidan.” He shook his head. “And I’m not dating Gemma.”

  “Right, you’re just getting your groove back, right?”

  “Are you judging me?”

  “Nope. I’m not. Seriously, I know you probably don’t believe me.”

  He paused and glanced away. “Is she seeing anyone?”

  “Would either answer make you feel any better?”

  “Why do you have to answer a question with a question?”

  “Why do you?” I threw back.

  Caleb sighed. “See? How can we be friends if you won’t be honest with me? You’re honest with Annie. So be honest with me.”

  “You want honesty? Fine. No. She’s not seeing anyone. She’s moving to Montauk to get some perspective. She quit her job, blew up her life, her parents are divorcing, and she has no idea who she is or what she wants. I’m not going to tell you that I understand how the first thing you could do after breaking up was fall into bed with someone else—then again, I’m not a guy. But hey, you have your own way of figuring out your own shit and who am I—”

  “I wanted to marry her, Sib,” he interrupted, voice hard. “I thought I’d found the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with and she—”

  “Is fucked in the head because her parents weren’t a good example for her.”

  “Well, that’s a bullshit excuse.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”

  “You don’t just give up because—”

  “You don’t understand her,” I said, coming to the realization. “Do you? Because if you did, you would’ve stopped asking her to marry you and tried to figure out a way to help her get over her fear of commitment.”

  “I was there! I was committed. We lived together. How much more could I have done for her?”

  “Did you give her room to breathe? Did you allow her to be herself, or did you try and change her?”

  He fell silent.

  “Maybe you liked the idea of a project.”

  “She’s not a project. I love her—and she threw that in my face when she got drunk and flirted with that guy and kept pushing me away.” He picked up his clipboard. “You say you want to be friends, but you chose her long ago. And you’re choosing her now. You’re even excusing away her shitty behavior, and I get it. I do. She left me, Sibby. She left me before we even broke up, but she never left you. She’ll never leave you. And that’s why you’ll always choose her, no matter how bad her decisions, no matter how destructive she gets.” His face hardened. “Good. I’m glad she’s going to Montauk. I don’t want to see her ever again.”

  He stalked out from behind the bar and disappeared down the stairs to the liquor room.

  How did I make things worse when all I wanted to do was make them better?

  Chapter 18

  #Pierogi1 #Sibby0

  “What did you say to Caleb?” Aidan asked the moment he walked through the door.

  I slowly closed the lid of my laptop and looked at him. “Hi, honey, how was your night at work? My night was pretty uneventful. I fell down the mommy blog pregnancy rabbit hole, and now I’m terrified and over loaded with information. I would drink wine to cope, but I can’t now. So I’ve been drinking herbal tea like it’s going out of style, and now I have to pee like an old man in the middle of the night.”

  Aidan closed the front door, his face softening when he looked at me. “Google is a dangerous thing.”

  I gestured to the stack of books my mother had purchased for us. “I didn’t know where to start, so at one point, I had three books open and one resting on my face—I was hoping to learn by osmosis.”

  He came over and plopped down onto the couch next to me, his face lined with exhaustion. “And how did that go?”

  “It doesn’t work.” I snuggled up against him. “Was he impossible to work with tonight?”

  Aidan sighed. “At one point, I told him to take a walk. He was in a piss mood all night. I jumped behind the bar.”

  “No wonder you’re late getting home,” I muttered. “I came in earlier to see him.”

  “So he said.”

  “And yet he didn’t tell you what we talked about?”

  “Oh, I can guess,” he remarked dryly, his hand rubbing up and down my arm. “Annie?”

  I nodded against him. “I might’ve been too ho
nest with him.”

  “In what way?”

  “I told him he never really understood her, and he kept trying to change her.”

  “Ouch. That was honest of you.”

  “Do you agree with me?”

  “I don’t know, Sibby. Guys talk differently than girls.” He gently extracted himself from my side to lean over and kick off his shoes.

  I rubbed my hand up and down his back, and instead of sitting up, he sprawled across my lap.

  “How’s Pierogi?” he asked, turning his head so he could kiss my belly.

  “Firmly lodged in my uterine wall.” He chuckled and then it turned into a moan of pleasure as my fingers plowed through his dark hair. “I didn’t mean to piss him off.”

  “He was already pissed off. He kept a pretty good lid on it, but tonight, you blew that lid off.”

  “Maybe I’ll just steer clear of him, then,” I said.

  Aidan laughed, his breath teasing my shirt. “He just wants to be pissed, so I’m letting him be pissed.”

  “Sometimes that’s all you can do.”

  “How’s she doing?” Aidan asked.

  “I don’t want to talk about them,” I whispered.

  “Oh?” He rolled over onto his back. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Ice cream sundaes.”

  “I love it when you talk dirty.”

  I nudged him off my lap. “Buy you a banana split?”

  “You’re really going to make me put shoes on after I just got home from work?”

  “A happy wife is a happy life,” I reminded him. “Come on, my treat.”

  I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. The November sun was out and peeking through the blinds of the bedroom. Aidan was asleep on his stomach, dark hair messy and adorable, his mouth slightly agape. I leaned over and sniffed him.

  “Sibby,” he whispered into his pillow.

  “Gah!” I jumped back. “You’re awake!”

  “I heard you sniff me.”