“I’m sorry to cut this short, my Mari Cherry, but I have to go. I’ll call you as soon as I can. Hopefully I can send you a message first and let you know what time so you’re not asleep or in the middle of something.”
The words I was going to say died on my lips. We couldn’t have a whole conversation about Sapphire now. I’d save it for our next conversation.
“Sounds good. Talk to you soon. Love you.”
“Goodnight, Marisol.”
I ended the call and stared down at the phone, half-considering texting him the whole Sapphire thing. But that wasn’t the type of conversation you could have via text. No, I’d just tell him tomorrow. Then I could better formulate what I wanted to say and figure out what I actually wanted to do.
I knew Fin would probably stop me from trying to talk to her. He very much liked to keep his sexual life and the other parts of his life separate. But I had the feeling Sapphire would talk to me. Even though she was, for all intents and purposes, a prostitute, there was something open and honest in her face. I tried not to think about that also being one of the reasons Fin kept going to see her for years.
Years. She’d known Fin since he was young. Since just after the accident that his father used against him. I’d always wondered what Fin was like when he was young. He could tell me, but people viewed themselves far differently than others did.
Yes, I wanted to talk to her, but I wanted to make sure Fin at least knew about it. I wouldn’t go behind his back. I wouldn’t be able to face him when he came back if I kept that kind of secret. No, I would tell him.
Tomorrow.
But as it turned out, Fin sent me a message saying he wasn’t going to be able to call me that day—or that night. He assured me everything was okay, he was just very busy. Probably trying to unravel his father’s no doubt intricate and complicated plan to rope him back into submission again.
I tried to think that no news was good news, but I was still a wreck for most of the day.
The card from Sapphire was burning a hole in my purse and I had to see my parents in two days. I wanted to call Dad again and see if he was still going to act cold towards me, but I decided against that plan as well.
I was at a standstill and just waiting for everything to collapse.
Instead, I collapsed. For the first time ever, I fell asleep in one of my classes. Fortunately we were just going over textbook material and slides, so the lights were off and I don’t think my professor saw me, but I was still embarrassed beyond belief and slinked out of the room as quickly as possible.
Two choices: Have more coffee and try to power through, or give myself permission to crash for a little while.
I went with option two and hailed a cab to take me back to my apartment, pinching myself the whole time to make sure I stayed awake.
I was barely able to get my clothes off before I faceplanted on my bed and passed completely out.
The next time my eyes opened, the room was dark. I glanced at the clock. It was nine p.m. Damn. I’d slept for a long time. I didn’t mean to, and now my internal clock was going to be off. This was why I didn’t take naps.
I got up and winced. I’d fallen asleep so fast that I’d slept in a weird position, and now I had a crick in my neck. I did a few stretches and then got to my feet. My entire body ached like it did right before the flu came on. Wouldn’t surprise me if I got sick now. My immune system wasn’t at its best.
Since I’d slept through dinner, my stomach was screaming, so I went to the kitchen to get something and nearly tripped over my bag. Apparently, I’d decided the middle of the floor was the best place to put it when I came home earlier.
Cursing at myself, I picked it up and fished out my phone. No calls, but I wasn’t expecting anything.
I found a frozen dinner and threw it in the microwave. I yawned and stared at the revolving container.
Well, I was going to be up all night so I might as well make use of my time. After my food finished nuking, I gathered up all of my books and my reading schedule. I always found it helpful at the beginning of every semester to gather all my syllabi and plan out all my assignments and when I needed to read them. I’d been doing it this way for my entire undergraduate and graduate career, and it had worked so far.
It would be nice to get ahead on everything, so I made piles of books and assignments and did the worst one first, saving the best (collecting articles and blog posts about unschooling and homeschooling for a research paper) for last.
The apartment was quiet, my neighbors either having gone to bed early, or still out for the evening. I worked steadily, and the more items I checked off my list, the better I felt and the more stress and tension seemed to dissipate, leaving nothing but the drive to get everything done behind.
I wrapped up my work around five in the morning and decided to take a quick nap before I had to start my day. Hopefully on Saturday I could figure out how to reset my internal clock.
I checked my phone again, but nothing. I pulled out Sapphire’s card and looked at it again. What would happen if I called?
It was so early, I didn’t think anyone would answer, so I punched in the numbers and held the phone up to my ear. It rang three times and then a voice picked up.
“How may I help you?” No business name, nothing. The voice was female and curt. I’d imagined someone whose voice oozed with sexuality.
I couldn’t say anything.
“Hello?” the voice said again, and I ended the call. I couldn’t do it. At least not before I told Fin. Clearly, I needed more sleep.
Friday was a disaster. Thanks to my nap, everything was off. I kept dropping my keys, my phone, my wallet. I misplaced one of my notebooks, brought the wrong one to one of my classes, and spilled coffee all over my pants. The only good thing was that my pants were dark brown, so the coffee didn’t show, but I reeked of it for the rest of the day.
Everything was off.
I got a text from Chlo asking if I wanted to go out that night, and I agreed. I was going to be exhausted and irritated, but watching people sing awful karaoke might make me feel a little bit better.
I still hadn’t heard from Fin. The more hours that went by with no contact, the more my imagination got the best of me. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and sent him a message just before Chloe picked me up to go to the bar.
Everything okay? Worried about you. Text or call or send a smoke signal.
I tried to go for a light tone when I felt anything but.
“Hey,” Chloe said as I slid into the cab beside her. “You okay?”
I tried to smile, but my face was too tired. “Meh. I took a really long nap yesterday and now I’m completely off. I hate it when that happens. I’ve just been out of it all day and I don’t know what to do about it.”
She made a sympathetic face. “I hate that. Just stay up until your normal time tonight and then force yourself to sleep. That’s the only way to do it.”
“Anyway,” I said, “how are you? Work any better?” She gave me a smug smile.
“Totally banged one of the clients. God, it was amazing. She was really into yoga so . . . yeah. It was good.” She wiggled her eyebrows and the cabbie pretended not to be listening, but he totally was.
“Oh, well, I’m really happy for you. But isn’t it forbidden to have sex with your clients?”
She waved her hand, dismissing my question. “Since she wasn’t technically my client, I don’t provide any services, we didn’t do anything at work, and no one knows, it’s no big deal. Besides, I’m not the first person who’s done it, and I won’t be the last.” I could believe that.
“Maybe I should start doing yoga,” she mused, staring out the window. I’d believe that when I saw it. Chloe so wasn’t the yoga type. She sure as hell wouldn't have the patience for that.
“Well, if you want to give it a go, I’ll come with you.” If Chloe was doing yoga, I definitely wanted to be around to witness it.
“It’s a date. There are classes
every weekend, so we could do one as early as tomorrow.” Maybe that would be a good thing, to clear my head and balance my chi, or whatever they called it.
“Sounds good. But not too early. I have a feeling we’re both going to be hung over.” Good idea to plan for that contingency if we decided we wanted to have more than a few drinks.
“Stop checking your phone, Mari,” Chloe said, catching me for the third time. I couldn’t help it. I was still waiting for a message of some sort from Fin.
“I can’t help it. I’m worried. My brain keeps going worst-case scenario and the longer we go without talking, the more I freak out.”
Chloe rubbed my arm and gave me a kiss on my forehead. “Well, I’ll make sure to get you good and drunk tonight, and then we can sweat it all out tomorrow. How’s that sound?”
Pretty good, actually.
“You’re on.”
Rory didn’t end up coming out with us, since she was too busy, as Sloane said, “banging her ginger.”
“I swear, it’s a miracle she can walk. I wonder how they get any work done since they’re fucking each other constantly. And if they’re not physically fucking, they’re eye fucking. Jesus, it’s insane. I’ve been spending the night in my studio just so I can have some peace and quiet. I mean, she does go to his place a lot, so it’s not too bad. And she’s so damn happy, I can barely stand it.” Sloane took her hair down and then twisted it back up into a bun again.
“Have I told you about the brother?” she said. Her eyes lit up.
Oh no. There was a brother. I didn’t need to know anything else about him other than she had that look on her face like she had when she found out that Tim Gunn was coming to Boston that one time.
“I knew it!” Chloe said, pointing her finger. “I knew there was something up with you. Spill.”
So Sloane gave us the down low on Ryder, Lucas’ brother. Apparently he was tall, dark, and ginger.
“Now, normally I don’t go for guys like that, but holy hell, you guys. He’s sex in motion. And he’s got that look in his eyes. You know the one.” She wiggled her eyebrows so we would know exactly what she meant.
“He’s a bit of a mess right now, but I kind of like messes. They’re never boring.”
Hmmm. I didn’t know about that. I wouldn’t call Fin a mess, but I could attest to the fact that being with a guy who had a few complications wasn’t easy. It was a lot of work and a lot of stress. But completely worth it, or at least I hoped it would be when I got out on the other side.
I wasn’t going to rain on Sloane’s parade, so I kept my mouth shut and listened as she gushed about him.
“Rory is totally down on the whole idea, of course. I swear, she thinks she’s my mom or something.” Rory was a bit of a control freak and that extended to her friends.
“And speaking of her,” Sloane said, “I’m pretty sure you both are going to be invited to her company ball. She’s already commissioned me to make you dresses.” This was news to me. I’d heard rumblings about it, and Fin had said something, but I hadn’t heard from Rory yet.
“Oh, really?” I said.
“Yeah, the invitations are going out, and I think Rory is going to call you next week about it. Her mom was all about her inviting Fin, but that’s not going to happen now, so she wants all of us to go as a buffer.” I’d always wondered about those balls. They sounded much more fun than the ones my parents usually attended. Plus, if my friends were there, it would be fun no matter what.
“Well, I’m in, as long as my dress is fabulous,” Chloe said. “Maybe I’ll meet a rich, eligible lesbian. You never know.” You never did.
“I guess I’m in too. Are you sure you can make that many dresses?”
Sloane gave me a withering glare. “Please. Project Runway has nothing on me. Those people are amateurs. I could whip up four ball gowns with my hands tied behind my back.” I didn’t bother to point out that she’d have to sew with her feet. Knowing Sloane, she could probably do it.
“So, I should have something ready for you in the next few weeks, complete with lingerie. Oh, Mari, do you need anything else to model for your man? Because I could totally whip you something up. Hell, I’ve given Rory an entire set of stuff.” I wasn’t going to turn down free lingerie, so I said that would be nice. I didn’t know when I’d next talk to Fin, but I could wear pretty things without showing them to him. It was kind of fun, like a sweet little secret you kept under your clothes that no one knew about but you.
We paused our conversation as a Taylor Swift wannabe got up and butchered one of her early songs that was still somewhat country. We all cringed at each other, and Sloane went to get more drinks.
It felt good to be with my friends, but I did have that little nagging in the back of my mind about Fin. I tried as hard as I could not to look at my phone, but I couldn’t help it.
“Stop it,” Chloe said, pinching my arm, but as soon as she did it, a message came through.
I am so sorry. I will make this up to you. Promise. I’ll call tomorrow. If I don’t, you have permission to tie me up and beat me the next time you see me.
Wow, that was a very nice mental image. I couldn’t picture Fin letting himself be tied up, but it was quite arousing. If he was tied up I could do whatever I wanted. I’d never thought of myself as taking charge of our sexual encounters, but the idea appealed to me. I didn’t know what I was doing, but that had never stopped us before. Fin was so patient.
I like the sound of that. Call me when you can. Love.
“Was that him?” Sloane asked. Chloe had filled her in a little on what had gone on between me and Fin, or at least as much as she knew.
“Yeah. He’s . . . he’s going through a lot right now with work, and I can’t help but be worried the longer we don’t talk. I think it will be good in the end, but the waiting is killing me.” I rested my chin on my hand and stared at my almost empty drink.
“That sucks,” Sloane said, giving me a sympathetic face. “Men are so complicated. They bitch all the time about women being that way, but they are definitely more complicated. Talk about messing with your head.” She downed her drink and shook her head.
Fin didn’t mess with my mind, but being with him did, if that made any sense.
Yup, I was definitely getting drunk. Warmth spread through my limbs and they got heavier and heavier. I couldn’t remember the last time I really relaxed.
“God, I needed this,” Chloe said, and I nodded. “Amen, sister friend,” Sloane agreed.
We spent the rest of the night watching the singers and criticizing them, and cheering on the good ones. I knew it was time to call it a night when I nearly tipped off my barstool.
“Okay, I think it’s time to get your ass in a cab,” Chloe slurred. Sloane was equally as inebriated.
“Yoga is going to suck tomorrow,” I mumbled as we made our way to the door and got into one of the waiting vehicles.
“Yoga?” Sloane said, and then started laughing. “Who’s doing yoga?”
“Me and Chlo. We’re going to get zen and shit,” I said, and then that was funny, so I started laughing.
“And shit,” Chloe said, and joined us. We laughed all the way to Sloane’s, and then all the way to Chloe’s, and I laughed during the short drive to my place. It took me quite a while to actually get up to my apartment and get the keys in the door. I made it to my bed and collapsed, still giggling.
The next thing I knew, there was a buzzing near my ear and a banging coming from somewhere. I rolled over and moaned.
Ugh. This was why you shouldn’t drink too much at once. This right here. I clutched my head and tried to make sense of the noises. One was my phone and the other was a person at my front door.
“I’m coming,” I yelled, and then winced as the sound made my skull ache. The banging had to end. I practically crawled to the door and opened it to find Chloe standing on the other side, clad in yoga pants and a tight tank top, her hair pulled back from her face and twisted up with bobby pins.
“What is wrong with you?” I asked, leaning against the doorway. I wouldn’t be able to remain standing if I didn’t lean on something.
“Yoga time,” she said with an evil grin, and produced a cup of coffee from behind her back. “Get dressed and we’ll go.”
I gave her a look as if she’d just suggested we set ourselves on fire.
Yoga? Hell, I could barely walk, let alone try and balance for any length of time in a tricky position.
“How the hell aren’t you hung over?” I moaned as I fell on the couch and tried not to spill my coffee. I was going to need something in my stomach as well.
“I got up early and got my shit together,” she said with a smug grin.
“I hate you,” I said, but then she handed me a bag with a Danish in it.
“No, you love me. Just get yourself together and we’ll go. If it’s awful we’ll leave, and if it’s not we’ll feel so much better about ourselves.”
What the hell time was it, anyway? I looked at the clock on my DVD player, and holy crap, it was almost noon. I’d really passed out. This body clock thing had really screwed with my life.
“What time is the class?” She’d better not say in ten minutes or else I was going to kill her.
“It’s not until one thirty, but I figured you’d need a good amount of recovery time, which is why I’m here.” Her smile made my teeth hurt. I sipped my coffee and prayed that my stomach would cooperate, and that it wouldn’t come right back up.
“Why did I agree to this again?” I asked, taking a small bite of my Danish and chewing it thoroughly before swallowing. I wasn’t going to throw up. If I told myself I wasn’t going to throw up, I wasn’t going to throw up. Mind over matter.
“Because you love me, and because it will be good for both of us. You know, you’re supposed to exercise and all that.”
“Ugh. Who wants to do that?”
She patted me on the shoulder. “We do, if we want to live past the age of forty.”
Deep Surrendering: Episode Eight Page 3
