He pushed ahead of me, apparent he knew right where to find the cache. “Actually, no, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t run into my share of them. What do you do, anyway?”
“I’m a banker.”
“A teller?”
“Yes. A teller. I stand at a window and people shoot tubes at me and I give them back money or a slip of paper that gives them their minuscule balance.”
He tossed his hands up and I shot past him. “Whoa. I didn’t meant to insult you. I’m only asking.”
“Sorry.” I stopped and waited for him to catch up. “I’ve been doing this job for like six years now and thought I’d be promoted by now. Personal banker, loan officer, something.”
“Sometimes we have to wait for the right thing to show up. I never intended to be running a bed and breakfast. I thought I would be coaching baseball for middle-school or high-school, or be a gym teacher.”
I pictured him in tight white shorts, a red tank top, and a whistle around his neck. In my imagination, he hiked his socks up to his knees. “A gym teacher?”
Rather than being insulted by my asinine remark, he smiled. “Yes. A gym teacher. I love sports and being active. Kids these days aren’t active enough. I always wanted to change that.”
I loved a physical man. Josh much would have preferred parking his ass on the couch, watching reruns of The Real World (which it so wasn’t), drinking a beer, than be outside doing something sporty. Our activity levels often rooted our arguments, and money, and laundry, and sometimes one of us breathing. I (thought) I loved him, but our relationship sure was riddled with issues. The final straw came with him screwing multiple women.
The compass showed us within a few feet. Damn. Another bench. I approached as I continued our conversation, crouching down as I circled the area. “What did you do before you started helping with the B & B? Working the night shift at Wal-Mart?”
“Close. I did maintenance there.”
“At Wal-Mart?” I stood, unable to believe what I heard. Of course, he probably looked fabulous with a broom, and even better standing on a ladder changing a light bulb.
“Yes, at Wal-Mart, Miss Teller.” He swung his finger at me. “Don’t you judge.”
He had me there. I bypassed asking him if he attended college. Glancing at the phone to avoid saying something dumb, the app alerted me I stood only a few feet away from the cache. I glanced around the ground, and a bottle cap caught my eye. I handed the phone back to Seth and rested on my knees. The plain red cap sat too perfectly on the ground. I dug my finger under the cap and lifted. Out it came with a cylinder attached to it. Holy shit, I did it. All. By. Myself. “Got it!” I yanked it the rest of the way out of the ground. Dirt clogged between my fingers and the nails, but it was worth it.
“Congratulations.” He scrolled through his phone.
Texts? Facebook? Hell, no. We spent less than an hour or so together and he already lost interest? Lovely. “Thanks.” He remained focused on whatever filled his screen. “Is everything okay?” I realized now his discouragement wasn’t me, but whatever words fled across the screen he so vigorously scrolled through.
Realizing his rudeness, or simply completing his conversation or reading his email, Seth shoved the phone in his pocket. “I have to go. Can you take me back?”
“Oh?” Yep. He was ditching me, no doubt. I’d been ditched before on the few dates I went on since Josh. In January, I showed up for the “Starbucks” date. A simple cup of coffee. I thought he never showed. I heard through the grapevine he did show. He saw me, turned around, and walked out. How’s that for building self-esteem? And just last month, a guy from work asked me out for bowling, which seemed innocent enough. We went, I won, and he’s avoided me in the break room ever since.
He motioned for me to start walking back to the car with him. “Sorry. It’s my dad. He’s … “ I waited for the response, for him to confide in me. “Nevermind. I just need to go.”
In all the excuses used to get rid of me, parents topped the cake. As adults, I thought we made our own decisions. To each their own, I guess. Maybe Josh was my last chance and all my shots were gone.
As we walked back to the car, Seth constantly checked his phone. If this is how things would be anyway, I probably didn’t want to get involved. I’d end up with a relationship with his phone. Thankfully, the bed and breakfast was very close, so our drive back wasn’t too torturous. He hadn’t murdered me. Only ditched me. I could live with that.
Kate met him at my car as I pulled in. I’d met her all of one time and she seemed overbearing. “Guess she’s anxious to get you back to work.”
“Hey, sorry we had to cut it short. I’m glad you found it on your own. Make sure you mark you found it.”
Sure. I’d remember. And I’d remember to scratch today off as a crappy day while at it. Dateless Ally again. The best thing for me right now was focusing on the promotion. Boys only meant trouble.
“I really should deal with this, so I have to get going. Give me your phone.”
What? I wasn’t going to hand this guy my phone. What the hell did he need that for? “Um…no?”
Even when he rolled his eyes he was sexy. “I’m putting my number in it.”
This time not thinking about it, I handed my phone over. “Okay. Why?”
He tapped through the screens like a pro. “Text or call me tomorrow. Let’s set up a date.”
My throat closed up. A date? I thought he wasn’t interested anymore. He was ditching me for his dad. “You want to go out on a date?”
The typing stopped and he met my eyes. “Don’t you?”
Yes, and I want to kiss you. Right now. “Of course.” I hoped I didn’t sound desperate.
Seth gave my phone back. “Good. Then it’s settled. I’ll wait to hear from you tomorrow. When I do, I’ll have your number.” When he winked at me, my insides rose by twenty degrees. “But I really do have to go. Congrats again.”
He slammed the door shut and raced up the stairs to meet his sister. First day of geocaching ending with a potential date? I call that a success.
CHAPTER SIX
Too soon I found myself back at work again, standing behind the counter, taking checks for people to deposit, counting out money for checks cashed, and explaining how free checking is mostly free, but not really, there’s quite a few catches. What’s completely free these days, anyway? I remembered a song that said the best things in life are free. Like what? Not love. Love failed me. I put my entire world into Josh and in an instant, or should I say a text message, everything disappeared. Once I found out at least half a dozen, if not more, girls existed, I promptly broke things off. Well, first I stopped throwing up, then I dumped his ass. Ally Couper didn’t sit around and let herself be taken advantage of, especially by some guy. Screw. That.
After my time with Seth got cut short, I headed home and spent the day catching up on housework. Still, even though I got home early the night before, I was glad I didn’t work the window today, giving me an extra half hour to wake myself up. I liked my hikes, and they were best served with a rising sun and cooler temps, but it didn’t mean I classified myself as a morning person. I craved my sleep. The perfect morning consisted of no alarm, waking to my internal clock at around ten, The View with my cup of Joe, and an English Muffin with jelly. A full-time job meant my perfect morning only happened on the rare Saturday morning I didn’t work, and it wasn’t entirely perfect since The View didn’t come on. Sundays always required an early wakeup for my visits with Dad.
But I didn’t have the perfect morning, or the perfect life. I worked at this dead end job, functioning like a robot until five-thirty. Lucky for me, Chelsea and I worked together, so at least I hung out with my best friend all day. We met at work; I arrived on my first day, and Chelsea showed me the ropes. I clung to her as we went about the day, and kept a notepad of everything, which she still makes fun of me for. By the end of the day, we got along as though we knew each other our entire lives. We decided to go out
for pizza after work, and have been joined at the hip ever since.
Okay, so not at the hip one hundred percent. I had Josh - key word had - and she had Daniel, sort of. Daniel didn’t come into Chelsea’s life until a few years later, and once he did, he and Josh didn’t get along very well, leaving only rare occasions for us to hang out together. With Daniel already involved with Lauren, Chelsea dropped everything the second a text came in from him so they could see each other. Daniel insisted their relationship be hidden from the public, so only me, Josh and her parents knew of the relationship. Her parents, though, didn’t have any idea Daniel was a two-timing jerk.
Daniel came into the bank every day for a few minutes to say hello to Chelsea. Today, he arrived right on time. At twelve-thirty, mid-way through his lunch break, he showed up. Sometimes he deposited money, others he took it out, and sometimes he pretended he needed Chelsea to explain something on a statement. It served as an excuse for the two to be able to spend time together, without actually spending time together.
Today, Daniel didn’t seem himself. He usually strutted through the doors like he owned the bank. Today, he approached zombie-like, his face expressionless. His full head of dark hair wasn’t combed, his beard untouched. On any given day, Daniel’s hair was perfect, not a hair out of place, and his skin looked smooth to the touch. His tiny eyes were even more puny, blotches of purple around them. Clearly, he hadn’t slept. Ripped jeans and an Adidas tee-shirt replaced his normal dress slacks and button up shirt.
Chelsea practically tap danced her way to the counter. Today my station was next to hers, allowing me to eavesdrop. I hadn’t grilled her for any details on how it went Sunday after he announced his engagement, and she didn’t mention it (she always told me when they got together), so I assumed things didn’t go too well. Yet, her giddiness confused me. “Mr. Robins, how can I assist you today?” Her cheery voice sickened me sometimes. No one was that happy all of the time. “You don’t look so good.” She whispered, but at a level I could still hear.
“Lauren knows.”
“About us? How?”
Something landed on the counter. “Your text messages. Why did you text me? You know you’re supposed to wait for me to call you.”
This guy sure had her by a rope. He gave her rules on how she should contact him. Text messaging is what did Josh in. I hadn’t been snooping - I’m not that type of girlfriend. After he got promoted, yes, he got his promotion, we went out with some of his coworkers to celebrate. Josh asked I take a picture of him and his coworkers, and when I did, an incoming message popped up. The words embedded themselves into my brain. When can u ditch Ally Bitch & come c me? Miss u, boo. Hell, no. He couldn’t charm his way out of this one. Right in front of his coworkers, I reamed him a new asshole. Possibly twice. Refusing to shed any tears in front of him or his work buddies, I took his keys and left the party. One of his coworkers dropped him off at “our” place, and I already put his shit in the hallway, managing to stack it nicely on top of the stairs. Soon as he came up the steps and entered the apartment, I told him to get the hell out, never come back, and I pushed all his shit down. While his mouth hung in disbelief, I handed him the ring and shut the door.
As much as I hoped Lauren did the same thing, I secretly hoped she hadn’t. If she did, Chelsea would run with open arms to Daniel and I foresaw them ending up in an unfaithful marriage, of which I’d stand up as Maid of Honor at the wedding, dreading the speech I’d have to lie through my teeth to manage getting through. I perked my ear in an effort to not miss her response.
“I’m sorry. I missed you. It won’t happen again. When can I see you?”
He leaned into the counter. “I can’t see you anymore.”
“What? Why?”
Please don’t tell me my best friend is that stupid. I didn’t know what Daniel possibly had that made her compromise herself and put her into such situations. If it was the sex, I’m sure she could find someone better.
Just as Daniel started with his reply, a customer approached the counter. Shit! I could get the scoop from her later. I anticipated her heart breaking into a million pieces and I reminded myself to try and be as sensitive as I could to help pick them up. What did I say, though? Here was a relationship I didn’t support and wanted to end, yet the very ending of it meant heartbreak for my closest friend. A shitty situation indeed.
I finished with my customer in under two minutes, but Daniel already left. While I missed his exit, I couldn’t miss Chelsea choking on a cry as she ran into the break room, her hand clasped to her mouth. I glanced over at my manager, Daryl, who only nodded in approval of my running after her.
A customer approached the window as I placed the “Next Window Please” sign in front, drawing a grunt. Oh well, jerk off. I had other things to tend to. I raced to the break room, swinging the door open to be greeted by a bawling Chelsea with her head on the table, and a combination of seafood and coffee in the air. Reheating seafood in a public microwave should be illegal.
“Chelsea, are you okay?”
She lifted her head up, her stick auburn hair a static mess, pieces sticking to her cheeks, her face blotchy from the tears. “Of course I’m not okay. You should be happy, though. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” She clonked her head back into her arms.
Great. Yes, I wanted their relationship to end, and obviously though I thought she didn’t get it, she really did. And she got it so good I couldn’t even comfort her. I had an obligation to try. I tiptoed over and pulled a chair out. “Chels, I didn’t want this. I never wanted to see you heartbroken. I’m sorry if I acted like a jerk about it. Is there anything I can do?” Were these the words people said in these situations? What did Chelsea say to me when I found out about Josh? I guess the difference came in strength and esteem. I never stood for it. I never would have even dated Josh if he were involved with someone else, and Chelsea walked right into it. She was the perfect case of “I told you so,” but I’d be an asshole to say it.
I listened to her sob for about five minutes, no words coming out. When the door opened and someone tried to come in, I waved that person away. They could wait to eat. Finally, I went in for the comfort move and began to rub her back. Her crying began to slow, replaced by soft coughs and snorting to pull the snot back into her nose. The least I could do was help with that, so I excused myself as I went to the counter next to the refrigerator and grabbed some paper towel that sat out. I turned, and Chelsea stared straight at me, her lips stuck together, her eyes puffy and tired.
“What is it, Chelsea?”
As she said the next two words, the napkins dropped to the floor. “I’m pregnant.”
----------
I didn’t ask Chelsea any of the things I wanted. I didn’t ask her how she could let something so stupid happen. I held back the question of if she even used a condom this entire time with him knowing he had another girlfriend. I bit my tongue when I wanted to yell at her and ask her how she planned on raising a baby without the help of the father because Lord knew Daniel wasn’t going to step up. I wanted to ask if she told Daniel already. But, I didn’t ask her any of those questions; instead, I did what I thought I should do and simply wrapped my arms around her, letting her sob until the tears soaked through my shirt. An “I told you so” or “What were you thinking?” didn’t seem appropriate at the time, as much as the verbiage repeated itself in my head. I certainly would ask the questions at some point, but right now I needed to be her friend. I wanted to tell her about Seth, about how I met this man who seemed incredible and I couldn’t wait to spend time with him. Many moments the topic danced on my vocal cords, ready to burst out and tell her all about him. I held back because any happiness on my end would upset her. A good thirty minutes passed before she composed herself enough to return to work. No one asked me questions, but I figured a few of the gals must’ve figured out what was going on. Everyone knew Chelsea was dating someone, and she burst into tears the second Daniel left.
The rest of
the day went easier than expected. We both went about our business, helping customers and doing our job, ignoring the situation at hand. Chelsea finally approached me at closing time. “So, are you going to talk to Daryl about your promotion soon?”
“Why bother?” I said, clicking through the screens to log off my computer. “I’m not getting the promotion anyway.” Whoever designed our computer system was a whack job. Why did it require me to log in and out of five programs every day? Programmers didn’t understand the concept of simplicity.
“You don’t know that. Besides, you’ve been here for years, you work your butt off, I don’t think you’ve ever called in sick, and the customers love you. He’d be stupid not to promote you.”
“Well, I really don’t think it’s going to happen, so why put myself through all of the hassle?” I shut the monitor off.
“I don’t understand you, Ally.” The cash flipped through her fingers as she counted her drawer.
“What does that mean?” How could my best friend not understand me?
Chelsea marked down her place in her count and continued. Holding a fifty dollar bill in her hand, she said, “You bust my balls about Daniel all the time, yet you don’t have any when it comes to your own life. Why don’t you grow a pair and talk to Daryl already about the promotion? You know as well I do you deserve it.”
I couldn’t stand the analogy. I got the point she tried to make, but I couldn’t “grow a pair.” The whole saying irritated me. “Just because I deserve something doesn’t mean I’m going to get it. I deserved a fair shot at love, didn’t I? Look what happened with Josh.”
“Get the hell over Josh and move on. What happened while you went treasure hunting, or whatever you call it? You never told me how that went.”
“It’s called Geocaching,” I corrected her. “I met this guy named Seth. I’m supposed to call or text him tonight to set up a date.”
She dropped her money on the counter and started clapping like a cheerleader. “Yeah! Good for you, Ally! See, everything is starting to fall into place.” She picked the money up again. “You need to talk to Daryl. Now.”
Caching In Page 4
