Little Miss Lovesick

by Kitty Bucholtz

  “GT’s in his office,” he said without looking up.

  “Thanks,” I said, moving a couple steps closer. “Um, I wanted to apologize about…the other day.” I waited for him to look up.

  He dialed another number on his phone.

  “I’m sorry we…I didn’t mean to—”

  “Listen, I’ve got a major problem here, okay?” He looked at me for the first time. “Can we talk about this later? Ed, Matt here. Yeah, he wants to change it.”

  Well,that was a dismissal if I’ve ever seen one. I took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. Okay, I’ll take care of business first, see if Matt has a moment later.

  I walked down the hall and around the corner. GT’s office door was open but he wasn’t in there. A moment later, I heard him come barreling around the corner, talking to someone. Nope, cell phone. I jumped out of his way as he rushed into his office with a “’Scuse me, darlin’” in the middle of a sentence.

  He flipped through some papers on his desk, found what he was looking for, and sat down. I tried to stay inconspicuous near the door. We had an appointment so I knew I wasn’t interrupting. If Matt weren’t in the middle of something, too, I’d go hang out with him for a few minutes. (So not an option today.)

  A minute later, I heard GT say, “Can you hang on? Just a moment.” He looked up and caught my eye. “I’m sorry, darlin’, but I’ve gotta take this. Can we reschedule?”

  “Of course, GT. Give me a call.” I smiled my professional smile. Great, one of the houses I wanted to show him would probably be sold before we could make it over there. I waved and left him to his phone call.

  When I left, Matt was nowhere to be seen. Yet another thing that had to be put off till later. Big sigh. I drove back to the office to re-plan my day. Perry walked by my desk on his way to get coffee.

  “What are you doing inside on such a beautiful day? Can’t find anyone to show a house to?”

  I pulled my laptop out of my briefcase and plugged it in. “GT had to reschedule.”

  Perry shook his head. “I don’t know about that guy. He might be dead weight.” He had a smile in his voice — he always did — but this was the second time he’d mentioned his concern.

  I sighed. “He’s eager to buy, he just hasn’t found it yet.”

  Perry handed me a fax. I looked at it. Another impossible list from GT. Ireally wanted to crumple it up, but not in front of my boss.

  “If he keeps this up, he never will.” Perry watched me unload my briefcase. “You have a battery in that thing?” He pointed to my computer with his empty mug.

  “Yeah,” I said, pausing to look up at him.

  “Take it down to the beach. You need some fresh air.”

  I looked at all the files on my desk. So much to do.

  “Nothing that can’t wait a couple hours,” he said, reading my mind. “Why live in the palm of God’s hand if we don’t take the time to enjoy it? Grab a smoothie. Breathe in the scent of dead fish. It’s good for the digestion.”

  Surprised laughter floated up. Perry had a knack for knowing how to show his concern without making you cry. Which I might’ve done if he’d continued acting so nice for another thirty seconds.

  As I stood there undecided, he pushed one of my buttons. “Besides, I need someone to drive past the Lockwood estate and give me an update on the landscaping. I don’t have time.”

  “Oh, well, I can do that for you.” Call me a brown-noser, but I enjoy helping Perry out. He’s so good to his employees, as a boss and as a person, it just makes youwant to work hard.

  He knows you, said a Voice.He knew you wouldn’t go unless he gave you some pretend work. I bet he could find out what he needs to know with a phone call.

  Whatever.

  As I repacked my stuff, I wondered if Perry knew driving relaxed me. Round trip to the Lockwood place would be a minimum of two hours.

  He said he didn’t have time, said another Voice.That’s why he asked.

  Yeah, that’s true. I’d become a basket case after Dirk broke up with me, and I didn’t want my boss or co-workers to ever see that side of me again. Hide stress at all costs. That’s my new motto.

  I called Em from the road. “Hey, in a minute, look out one of the windows and wave.” I had to drive past her office on my way to the Lockwood’s. (No, I didn’t go to the beach. I wanted to, but if I relaxed, I’d mope about Matt. Better to keep working and not think.)

  “Here, I’m waving on the inside.”

  Definitely tense. Poor thing. “Bad day?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Well, I’ve got a cure. Wanna have margaritas Thursday?”

  “You have a closing? That’s great.”

  Not very enthusiastic. Must be a really bad day. “My treat.”

  “I don’t know if I can make it.”

  “Oh, no, you’ve got to, Em,” I teasingly whined. “We’ve haven’t missed Closing Margaritas in a year! It’s like my lucky socks.”

  “If I can I will, but it looks like we’ll be working late all week.”

  “How about we go whenever you get off work? If you have to work late, we’ll have dinner, too.”

  “Listen, Syd, the world doesn’t revolve around you, okay? I can’t be at your beck and call whenever you need something. I’ve got my own problems.”

  I opened my mouth and blinked in shock. The car in front of me slowed down abruptly and I hit my brakes, checking my mirrors to be sure the guy behind me braked, too.

  “I better get off the phone before I rear-end someone,” I said quietly. “Call me later if you want to talk about — whatever.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, but thanks.”

  Ouch. I’ve never known Em to be so short with me.

  “Emily, are you okay?”

  I heard her sigh.

  “Are you mad at me?” I tried to think of what I might’ve done or not done recently that I should apologize for. Had I been treating our friendship like the world revolved around me?

  “Syd! I just said it’s not about you, all right?”

  “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Bye.” She hung up.

  I let out my breath in a huff. Fine. Hang up on me. I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. My day was becoming an endless chain of one sucky argument after another.

  BY THURSDAY, I was thoroughly stressed out and trying not to show it. The Slocum’s closing was scheduled for two. I needed to order flowers and buy a teddy bear for the new baby. (I learned from Perry that gifts from the realtor are unexpected and so doubly appreciated. Happy clients make good word-of-mouth advertising.) Plus I had paperwork to prepare for another closing next Friday.

  The good thing about Heartbreak is that you can become a workaholic and kick your career into high gear. If I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life, I might as well be successful. Not that I think of myself as Heartbroken any longer. I’m over him. Dirk, I mean. And since Matt’s not talking to me, I don’t care about him either. I’m just sayin’.

  I called the florist, then grabbed my purse. It would take me nearly an hour — an hour I didn’t have — to drive to the store where I wanted to buy the bear. I knew I should’ve done it last night, but I was exhausted then.

  “Going to lunch?” Trent called from his desk. He got up and walked over. “Wanna get some Chinese?”

  “No, I don’t have time.” I rummaged through my purse, then my briefcase, looking for my keys.

  “Anything I can help with?”

  “No, I’ve got to run out near the mall to buy a closing gift for a two o’clock.” I found the keys. “Lunch is going to have to wait until dinner today.”

  I stuffed my computer into my briefcase along with the file I’d have to work on tonight at home. I looked at my watch. Crap.

  “Maybe tomorrow then.”

  “Dammit, Trent! Just back off, okay?”

  I looked up to see him raise his hands in the air and retreat to his
desk. Great. No time to apologize now.

  I hurried to the front door, let loose really bad swear words in my head, and ran back to my desk. The file fortoday’s closing was still on my chair. So I wouldn’t forget it. I grabbed it and ran for my car.

  I bought the softest bear ever made and made it to the mortgage office before the Slocum’s got there. The flowers had arrived minutes before me. Pink and blue carnations stuck in a lush potted plant. The carnations would die in a couple days, but the plant could last forever. A good omen for their new life.

  When I heard Todd’s voice in the lobby, I went to greet them. They both looked beyond excited. And Rosie looked like she was ready to burst in other ways, too. It’s hard to believe babies are so small when they actually get here.

  “We did it, honey,” Rosie said when they finished signing everything. “You were right about that stupid plan.” She laughed.

  Todd kissed her soundly and turned to me. “I told her, the way to get what you want is to develop a strategy. You know, ‘plan the work and work the plan.’” He looked back at his wife. “And now we’ve got everything we ever wanted.”

  I couldn’t stop thinking about what he said as I drove home. Yes, home, not out for margaritas. Emily really had cancelled on me. I still could hardly believe it. Anyway, I wondered if I needed a plan. Get my life together somehow. But where to start?

  I actually thought I was doing okay with the plan I made on the fishing trip to force myself to get over Dirk and start feeling better. Life had gotten a lot better…and then it got worse again. Todd and Rosie talked about a written plan, step by step. Maybe writing things down would make a difference.

  At home, I changed into a T-shirt and shorts and sat on my couch, hugging a pillow and staring into space. What did I want —reallywant — and how would I get it? I snorted. If I didn’t figure out the answer to the first part, I’dnever figure out the answer to the second part.

  A knock on my door startled me from my musings. I opened it to find — wait for it — Dirk. You guessed it. (What’s with my inability to use the peephole?)

  Too tired and depressed to even get upset, I just stood there, waiting for him to speak. He put his foot on the doorsill so I couldn’t close the door in his face. Smart move. In another mood, I would’ve been irritated or amused. Today, nothing.

  “I thought of a way to prove to you that I love you,” he said quickly, without even a hello.

  I waited.

  “I want to hire you to buy a house. But you can pick it! See? It’ll be a house forus, something you’ve always wanted.” He paused. “Well, what do you think?”

  I sighed. Six months ago he would’ve been completely correct — itwould prove to me that he loved me. But six months ago, I didn’t doubt that he did. Today was another story.

  I started to tell him to go home, but what came out instead — tears, lots and lots of them. What happened to my plan to feel better,to stop crying? Embarrassed, I tried to pretend nothing unusual was happening. I tried to say “go home.” Just two words. That’s all I needed.

  Four years of memories overwhelmed me. Good memories. I could smell Dirk’s clean, manly scent. I could feel his strong, hard body. I remembered falling asleep with him spooned up against me. I remembered arguing about what movie to see and watching two.

  Then I rememberedher. I’d never met her, never even suspected, but I remembered the night I learned about her. I tried to compose myself. That’s when I realized Dirk was rocking me in his arms. I struggled to get away.

  “Get out,” I whispered.

  “Sydney…”

  “Please. Just go.”

  If I’d still loved him, I wouldn’t have been able to bear the hurt look on his face. But I didn’t care anymore. The not caring didn’t even bother me.

  Maybe itwas time for a new plan.

  CHAPTER 22

  I YANKED some paper from my printer and found a pen. Throwing it down, I picked up a black Sharpie instead. I needed to make a statement. Scrubbing my face against the shoulder of my shirt, I ignored the black streak of mascara left behind and sat down at the dining room table. In big, block letters across the top, I wrote:

  THE PLAN — STEP 1 —

  Okay, what to do first? I sniffled. Staring at the paper, I tried to concentrate. Sniffling again, I got up and found a box of Puffs. I blew my nose and wiped my eyes. Picking up the Sharpie, I decided to just write everything down in no particular order.

  Next to “Step 1” I wrote, “Tell Dirk no more flowers and chocolate, and stop coming over uninvited.”

  I paused, then crossed out the word “uninvited.” Yeah, that’s good. Speaking of which — I got up again and grabbed the latest box of truffles from the kitchen counter. I popped one in my mouth and put the box on the table beside me.

  Don’t think, said a Voice,just enjoy.

  Step 2 — Tell Emily that if she’s mad at me, she should tell me, and if she’s found other friends to hang out with, she should tell me.

  I re-read it. A little childish. Well, I’ll say it in a way that doesn’t make it sound “all about me” as she put it.

  Step 3 — Tell GT I can’t help him find a house if he gives me conflicting/opposite needs.

  The hard part was going to be explaining that to him in a way he understood. So far, no luck. A thought occurred to me. I wrote in parentheses, “Go look at the house he keeps mentioning and study it.”

  The house he pointed out that first trip — the one that wasn’t for sale — seemed to have caught his attention in a way nothing else had. Maybe I could figure out what he liked so much about it and find something similar.

  Oh! I added to step three, “Tell GT to keep his hands to himself.” It’s not like he’s trying to be fresh, but geez. He needs to understand boundaries.

  Let’s see. What else. I tapped the marker against my chin. Oh!

  Quickly I wrote, “Step 4 — Tell Perry to let me know if he wants me to drop a client, otherwise I’m doing the best I can.”

  Lately, it felt like I wasn’t living up to anyone’s expectations. Least of all, mine.

  Step 5 — Tell Trent…

  What? Tell him what? That we might be the right match at the wrong time? That he deserves more — or in my caseless — than he can get from me? He’s so sweet and kind and really rather good-looking and…

  I sighed. My life is a disaster. Trent deserves less drama. I crossed out the first two words and wrote, “Figure out what to do about Trent.”

  I thought about Matt. He seemedso madwhen he left last Sunday. And he didn’t act any better when I saw him yesterday. All I did was tell him I’m not the kind of girl to sleep around. Okay,maybe that sounds like I think he thinks I am. But I tried to apologize and he blew me off!

  I sighed, tapping the pen furiously against the table. No matter how I looked at it, it still came down to me apologizing. Not for what I said, but for fighting about it. I could’ve been far more calm and rational. Just not when he’s nearby.

  That’s it! I’ll apologize on the phone or with an email or something. When he’s close, all I can think about is kissing his lips off. (Or, in yesterday’s case, kicking his butt.) If he’s not actually in front of me, I could think better.

  Step 6 — Tell Matt I’m sorry about the misunderstanding, and that I’m not going to have sex withanyone.

  I hopethatdoesn’t stay true forever, said Lovesick.

  I wondered if he would accept my apology or just refuse to see me anymore. I started getting mad again and wrote one more line. “If that’s a problem, too bad.”

  There. I felt better. I might not actually say it, but then, hey, maybe I should.

  Let’s see. What else? I tapped my pen on my lips. (Yeah, I’m a pen tapper when I’m agitated.) That covers just about everyone in my life. At least everyone I’ve been having any, let’s say,issues with.

  Seems like there should be more to planning your life than just resolving personal conflicts. I wondered what Todd and Rosie
had written in their plan. Couldn’t just call them up and ask. I’d sound stupid.

  But you could call Matt, said a Voice.Get the apology over with and see what happens.

  Not yet, warned Another.You need to think this through first.

  I’m tired of fighting with him, sighed Little Miss Lovesick.I want him back.

  I picked up my cell phone and dialed Matt’s number.

  Don’t do it!screamed Sergeant Pride.Hang up!

  “Hello?”

  “Hi Matt.” I cleared my throat. “It’s Sydney.”

  “Hi.”

  Brr, is it cold in here? “Listen, I’ve been thinking about…about our conversation Sunday and I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry about the misunderstanding.”

  Silence.

  “The fact is, I’m not planning on having sex withanybody. That’s all I was trying to say.”

  “All right.”

  All right? What does “all right” mean?

  I looked at my notes.

  “And, uh…”

  Say it! said a Voice.

  No, I can’t. He’ll take it wrong.

  Just say it!

  Don’t do it!

  “And I just — what I’m saying is, if you have a problem with that…”

  Is he trying to torture me by not speaking? A nice person would’ve broken in by now, said they understood, wouldn’t have made me finish.

  So say it already!

  “Well, it’s just too bad.”

  I winced. There had to be another way to say that.

  Too late now, said a Voice.

  Had my cell phone died? I pulled it away from my ear long enough to see that it was still on.

  “Matt?”

  “Anything else?” Ouch. Scary monotone voice. I don’t think he’s taking this well.

  “Uh, no, that’s — I just wanted to apologize for the misunderstanding. That’s it.”

  “Okay. Thanks for calling.”