“What?”
“Yeah, failed to mention that disaster.” I roll my eyes. “Basically, Chad having had a thing for me—or at least wanting to use me for a booty call—isn’t exactly news.”
“Okay, that tidbit of juicy gossip aside…god!” Claire laughs in her state of bewilderment. “That’s all from a very long time ago. We’re talking now! Today! Chad has feelings for you too, and now.”
“He never said that.”
“Well…”
“That’s only according to Evelyn,” I state matter-of-factly. “And, for the record, I have mixed feelings for Chad. What’s this ‘too’ business about?”
“Sophie.”
“Don’t go making it sound like I’m all doped up on love for him or something. I’m still in the process of figuring out what I feel for him. Remember?”
“Details, details. Oh-so minor. But think about it. You hear that he has feelings for you and you think you might for him…this could work out, girl.” Peppy Claire is really shining through.
“How do you figure?” I uncross my ankles and sit up taller in my seat.
April has just arrived, and luckily, so has the spring sunshine and warmth. I push my sunglasses further up the bridge of my nose, interested to hear Claire’s side of things.
I’d first run to John with Evelyn’s revelation, but now it’s time to call in female reinforcement. It’s time to have a feminine touch added, so that means a pep talk, sprinkles of advice, maybe an anecdote about “if I were in this situation I would…”.
“Just talk for heaven’s sake,” Claire says with a moan. “Be honest with each other. Let’s get real here, you two aren’t exactly strangers, if you know what I mean.”
“Yes, and I’m so not laughing.” I tilt my head back to get more sun exposure.
“It just doesn’t make sense, Sophie.”
“Exactly! Now you see why I’ve been mulling over this so much? Chad tells me he may or may not have suggested Evelyn quit…then she quits! He’s all cavalier and whatever about it, telling me he’s sorry and wouldn’t hurt me, blah-blah-blah, but Evelyn’s still gone. She quit! And he’s to blame!”
Claire’s quiet on the other end of the line, clearly listening on with Claire-like enthusiasm for anything drama- and relationship-related.
So I carry on. “But then Evelyn comes traipsing in to the café,” I say, “telling me she’s sorry for quitting like she did, and that she understands why Chad likes me. I mean, what the hell?”
I don’t give her a chance to respond, on a roll with my rant. “It’s as if—as if—” I rack my brain wildly, rubbing one temple as if to bid the answer. “As if she quit because Chad has a thing for me. She’s jealous… No!” I sit up taller. “No! She quit because she thinks Chad has a thing for me. That’s it! But then that business of her saying Chad and I would be together…”
I return to rubbing my temple. “No…surely Evelyn would have more sense than that to just up and quit without getting any answers, without knowing the facts. Ugh! I don’t know! See, thinking how I feel about all this, Claire, is so not solving things.”
“Because you need to talk to Chad,” she replies with ease.
I tell her I’m sure she’s right, but that’s easier said than done.
“Anyway, that’s not where I was going,” she says.
“Oh?”
“About things not making sense. Look, all of that doesn’t make sense, obviously, but that’s really just because you need to talk to him and get answers. I love ya, Sophie, but you’re driving me and yourself bonkers with this. Grow a pair and talk already!”
“Yeah, yeah.” I uncross my ankles and sink back into my chair, propping my neck against the chair back. I close my eyes.
“Something that doesn’t make sense to me, though,” Claire says in an even tone, “is the deal with Oliver and John.”
“Okay, one-eighty here, Claire. Let’s stay on track. I already told you John was seeing Jean, in London, and that’s when he—”
“No, no. I’m not talking about that. Listen. Oliver and John start dating.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t go and fire Oliver, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“They have a relationship, say they breakup, and you’re left with an awkward situation on your hands, right?” Claire sounds like she’s really onto something, so I tell her to go on.
“John’s your brother, you love him, that never changes. He and Oliver breakup—totally hypothetical, and I hope it never happens because I bet they are so cute together!” She squeals this part, then abruptly returns to the topic.
“Anyway, they break up, broken hearts and all that stuff, and you’ve got Oliver working for you, maybe resenting John, resenting you because you’re his sister…who knows. Total drama fest. Eventually Oliver quits, let’s say—he just can’t take it anymore. Do you see where I’m going? If you would have put the kibosh on Oliver working for you right when he and John started their relationship, you wouldn’t have any of that blindsiding and drama mess.”
“Yeah, well…”
“According to your logic with how you dealt with Chad and Evelyn hooking up, that’s the case, isn’t it?” She’s hard-pressing here.
“Okay,” I say. “I suppose…”
“So why didn’t you fire Oliver?”
I laugh loudly, sitting upright in my seat. “I can’t afford to fire anyone, Claire! And Oliver’s the best of the best!”
“No,” she states adamantly. “That’s not the reason.”
“Yes it is!”
“Okay, it’s not the only reason.”
I puff out a loud breath of air, casting my gaze from my pink toes to the tall full-window multi-story building across from my apartment complex.
“Look,” she says, “you didn’t fire Oliver because of his relationship with John.”
“Of course not.”
“But you did fire Chad because of his relationship with Evelyn. And, if I may add the sprinkles on top, you totally freaked when you caught him and Evelyn kissing in the kitchen later, after you’d already fired him—”
“Whether he’s working for me or not, he shouldn’t have been making out with her in my café.”
“Oh, watch some reruns of Friends or plug back into Facebook, Sophie; people do crazy things when they’re in love,” she says breezily.
“Still,” I say, firm in my conviction.
“Anyway, sprinkles on top or not, the fact is that you fired Chad, and you know why?”
“Thought we went over this?” I say, slightly confused. “If he and Evelyn broke—”
“It’s because you love him.”
“Whoa!” I nearly choke on my spit. I jump in my seat, my feet flying to the ground, and for a second a heel brushes against the big toe, most likely smudging the paint. “I do not love Chad.”
“Okay, love’s a strong word,” Claire backpedals. She then mutters, “At least for now.”
I peer at my toes and, yup, sure enough the paint’s been smudged.
Dammit, I think, gently trying to push back into place the smudged pink paint, but all I do is worsen it.
“You can’t explain why Oliver and Chad have different treatment in the same scenario. Think about it!” Claire says in a strong voice. “You fired Chad because you have feelings for him, feelings you can’t explain or understand quite yet, but you have them, Sophie. They’re real. And…” She makes a hesitated pause. “Maybe you couldn’t handle seeing Chad and Evelyn together, right there, in front of you all the time, because of those feelings. You didn’t like them kissing…”
“Oh, Claire.”
“Think about it.”
“What are you…” But I find myself trailing off.
The concept is so elementary, I’m surprised I hadn’t considered it myself. Did I in fact have legitimate and serious feelings for Chad? Feelings that went beyond friendship? Feelings that could actually be explained, admitted, even acted up
on? Feelings that went so deep I’d go so far as to fire him—a pair of helping hands I so needed? Feelings that totally blindsided me, which is why I…irrationally let him go?
“Claire,” I say at a whisper. “My god.”
“Bingo! I know,” Claire says. “And there’s the little light going off.”
“You don’t think…” I draw a knee into my chest, forgetting about my painted nails. “I mean, I have thought about him in that way…more than a friend.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But we have a history.”
“Exactly. Your history is precisely why you two belong together.”
“We haven’t worked out in the past,” I point out saliently.
“The past is the past. Isn’t that what you’re always saying?”
“Ugh.”
“Come on,” she urges with a less than contagious exuberance.
“It would never work out, you know?”
“How do you know that? You don’t know unless you try. So—”
“It didn’t in the past, so why would it this time around?”
“Try it…talk…be honest. Hell, it’s worth a shot! You have these unexplained feelings for him and—”
“You know I’d never let something or someone jeopardize our friendship.”
“Of…course…not…” Claire sounds befuddled.
“You know I told you that Chad wanted to give us a go before…see if we could have a relationship. But if we had a falling out it’d make things weird with you and Conner and—”
“Bullshit,” she cuts in.
“Wha—”
“Bullshit. You’re making excuses and you know that. Did Brandon get in between you and Robin? In the end, did he? Huh?”
“No,” I squeak out in a small voice. Claire sounds vexed, her tone uncharacteristically stern and maturely insistent.
“That’s right! Because your friendship is stronger than that. Nothing would get between us, Sophie. But you and your pathetic excuses are getting in between you and a real shot at love.”
“Claire—”
“Hear me out. I love you, Sophie. Really I do. But you can’t know until you try. If you think there’s something you can have with Chad, then you owe it to him, and more importantly you owe it to yourself to find out.”
“Our history speaks for itself. We always end up back where we started, single and apart.”
“And you always find a way back to each other.” She heaves a sigh. “Stop fighting it, grow some balls, and please, for the love of god, make this lovestruck, sappy matchmaker happy for you!”
I can’t help but laugh and tell her she should really host her own talk show. Some kind of cross between a tough love Dr. Phil, a dramatic Maury, and make-you-feel-good Oprah.
I hug my knee more tightly. “It’s preposterous, really, Claire.”
“Preposterous or adorable, I don’t care what it is, it’s the truth,” she says with a sound of cheer. “You’ve been avoiding your true feelings for far too long. Like John said, feel with your heart. Love’s a gut thing, Sophie.”
“It’s not love, Claire.” Really, why must she use that word?
“You know what I mean.” Her voice is still. “It’s a gut thing.”
“I don’t know where to begin…what to do at this point,” I rasp out, in a minor state of shock over the actual fact that I could very well have romantic and deep and valid feelings for Chad. Is it actually more than occasional lust that comes and goes with his sexy smirks, or a reveal of the tip of his boxers, or when it’s just the two of us, hanging out, getting along?
“Things are complicated,” I say. “Things don’t add up; someone’s lying. Evelyn says one thing about her quitting, Chad’s all vague.”
“Who cares about the minor details, Sophie! Jeez, girl!” Claire spits with laughter. “This is more than that, bigger than that! First things first: you two need to talk. It’s really that simple. Be honest with each other—lay it all out there on the table. See what the two of you feel. If you don’t soon I’m going to fly over there and knock some sense into both of you. This is ridiculous.”
“Yeah,” I say with a slow nod of the head. “Yeah…it’s just a lot to digest right now.”
I pull my sunglasses atop my head and twist my mouth to the side. “I’m not practiced in relationships, with this kind of stuff, you know?”
“Do I!”
“I haven’t had a real boyfriend in…” I try to do the math. God, this is depressing. I need a calculator! “Four years? Shit…”
“I know.”
“Claire?”
“Yes?”
“I’m not saying you’re right and that there’s really something there with Chad…something I should act on.”
“Uh-huh,” she says in a sneaky “yeah, right!” kind of way. I can tell by her tone she’s ready to call my bluff any second.
“But hypothetically, if I really do…if I realize there’s more than friendship I’m feeling…”
“Uh-huh.”
“What should I do?”
“All I can say right now is talk to him.”
“No, I mean, after that. Do I—I don’t know. Should I act on these hypothetical feelings? Could anything real even come from them? Seriously!”
She laughs. “It’s a gut thing, a heart thing, Sophie. You can’t always run to your friends for advice on what to do.”
“Yeah, well…”
“But as for knowing if anything real can come about…” She sighs. “You don’t know unless you try. Sometimes you’ve got to go out there and risk it yourself.”
“I guess you’re right,” I say, standing.
“Of course I am.”
I pick up the bottle of nail polish and used Kleenex and close the balcony door behind me. I make my way into the bathroom and thank Claire for her help. We’re about to disconnect when I tell her that I’ll give it some more thought. Before the call ends, though, she quickly shoots out, “And Sophie?”
“Yes?” I set the nail polish in the Clinique cosmetic bag where I store all my nail polish.
“I can’t help myself. I’m a romantic.” She pauses for a sigh, then exclaims, “If I were you I would so act on this now. Don’t waste another second thinking about it. Go talk to him. Put it out there.”
“All right.”
“Oh, it’s so romantic!” her screechy, schoolgirl voice peals painfully through the receiver.
“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”
“Do it!”
I finger the darkened screen of my cell phone once our call ends, thinking about all Claire said. Could she be right? Could what I’ve been feeling be something real? Something I should act on? It’s one thing to dig down deep and search for what your heart feels, but acting on it?
I look in the bathroom mirror. I lean closely in and brush away the small specks of dried mascara that have fallen around my eyes.
“It’s a gut thing,” I tell myself.
I make another light swipe at the dried specks under my left eye, then stand upright. I smooth down the soft fabric of my slate-colored chiffon blouse and turn to get a side view reflection of myself.
“A gut thing, a heart thing,” I repeat, words that suddenly bring goosebumps to my arms, make my heart start to beat harder, words that are all-too familiar.
I smooth down the fabric once more and look at my reflection straight-on.
“A gut thing,” I whisper.
I reach for my bottle of Clinique Happy and give two shots to my wrist, then I look up at my reflection.
Familiar words, and true words, I think. I instantly give a shot of perfume to my neck, my chest, and one more, right behind my neck.
“It’s a gut thing,” I say with a smile, then I turn sharply on my heels, grab my handbag and keys, and do something that, despite having made a decision, feels akin to losing control.
Chapter Forty-Five
I’m in the car now, cruising along Broad Street, headed straight for Lake Uni
on, and part of me feels exhilarated, empowered, on the road to answers, perhaps a future…or closure. Another part of me feels like I’m careening out of control. I may have my hands on the wheel, but I’m driving into the lion’s den, clueless about what I’m going to say, what I’m going to do, no idea what he’ll say or do!
“Dear god,” I think aloud, clutching my churning stomach with one hand. “Have I lost my mind?”
I glance in the rearview mirror, Belltown growing smaller in the distance as I approach Chad’s neck of the woods. I have a tiny urge to make a fast u-turn, thinking I’m making a huge mistake, but the words “it’s a gut thing” keep running through my head, keep me driving into the den of the unknown. It’s those very words that take me back to a time that suddenly puts the present into perspective.
***
Nearly Two Years Ago, The Whitley Wedding
“Sophie?” Chad asked, sauntering my way. He had a half-drunk glass of champagne in one hand, his other hand stuffed in his pants pocket.
“Yes?” I said breezily. I took a sip of my own champagne.
“Crazy, isn’t it?” He gestured behind him with his glass.
I peered back at the dance floor where the newlyweds, Claire and Conner, were wrapped in each others arms, sharing a passionate kiss as they danced to the sounds of Frank Sinatra.
“It’s about time those two got married, isn’t it?” I said with a light laugh.
Chad nodded, eyes trained on the ground. “Guess they always had it coming, hah?”
“So you think you’ll ever be out there?” I asked, making small talk. I gestured to the dance floor.
“Dancing? Haven’t you seen me breaking out my badass moves?”
“No, you dork. And, yes, I have seen you break out your less-than-stellar moves.”
“Ouch.” He rocked on his heels, pulling on his champagne.
“I mean getting married,” I said, a weird hesitation in my voice.
“Me?” He raised both brows.
“Yeah.”
He looked back at the floor.
Immediately, as the silence grew, I regretted my stupid question.
When Girlfriends Find Love Page 34
