by Hope Ramsay
But she wasn’t about to let just anyone in. She peeked through the side window and discovered that her visitor wasn’t Mom, Dad, Andrew, or Officer Pierce, but Courtney Wallace carrying a reusable grocery bag from Food Lion. Suddenly real food sounded appealing, so she opened the door.
“Hi,” Courtney said with a grin, ignoring Laurie’s sweats, bunny slippers, and messy ponytail. “I brought all the fixings for margaritas, including the Don Julio. But to be honest, homemade margaritas are my fallback plan. I’m hoping to get you out of the house and down to the Jay Bird Café. Rory, the bartender there, makes better margaritas than I do. And Wednesday is open mic night. My friend Arwen will be singing. It’s my opinion that all single women need to hear Arwen’s songs about relationships. The woman has a gift for cutting right to the heart. Oh, and no one cares if you cry during open mic nights. I mean, sometimes the music is really bad.”
Courtney didn’t wait to be welcomed in; she simply marched through the door like a general and captured the territory. “So,” she said, scanning the living room in a way she had not studied Laurie and her dirty clothes and hair, “I see you haven’t gotten much done with the place.”
“Uh, no, I…”
“Well, don’t worry. I have friends. We’ll get the place good enough to sell and make a profit if that’s what you need. And if I were you, the first thing I’d do is burn Brandon’s furniture.” She turned and actually made eye contact, her big blue eyes full of concern but not pity. “So, what’s it gonna be? Margaritas here or at the Jay Bird?”
“I need a shower,” Laurie said, making up her mind right then that Courtney was someone she wanted as a forever friend. Emma, Madison, and Jessica were forever friends too, but Madison lived in California, Jessica lived in New York, and even though Emma lived in Washington, she was more than sixty miles away. Having a friend who lived around the corner was a godsend.
“Yeah, you do kinda need a shower,” Courtney said, “but I can wait. The show doesn’t start until eight o’clock. You want a ’rita for the road?” She held up the grocery bag that apparently didn’t contain any groceries except maybe limes and salt.
“Uh, no, just give me a few minutes.”
It took Laurie almost an hour to clean herself up. During that time, Courtney must have disposed of the pizza boxes, cleared the dirty dishes, and folded the Capitals fleece blanket because when Laurie came down from the bedroom, the living room looked semipresentable. How had Laurie allowed herself to go like that? Being a slob wasn’t her thing. “You didn’t have to clean—” she began.
“Nope, I didn’t. But I did. The thing is, you don’t have to face this problem alone. I’ve had my heart broken so many times, it hardly bleeds anymore. But I still remember the first asshole who took me for granted. His name was Mark, and when he broke up with me, he issued those fatal words I will never forget. ‘Court,’ he said, ‘I’m breaking up with you because I love you too much and I don’t want you to be hurt.’ Now, you tell me what the hell that means?”
Laurie shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s kind of oxymoronic.”
“Forget the oxy, it was just plain moronic. Being told that your boyfriend loves you too much is like one of those WTF moments, you know? I cried my eyes out, and I mourned that relationship for two whole years of my life. I still can’t believe I wasted that much time on him.
“In the end, I realized that Mark was one of those guys who seemed to care about me, but the moment Sheryl Roth crossed his path with her blond hair and size double-D’s, he justified his decision to ditch me by inventing that weaselly excuse. The amazing part is that he actually thought telling me he loved me too much would spare my feelings. He actually thought he was doing me a big favor. It’s truly unbelievable what some guys think.”
“I guess,” Laurie said without much conviction. Listening to Courtney’s experiences in the world of dating and hookups was depressing.
Courtney put her arm around Laurie’s shoulder. “Chin up, babe. There’s an antidote to how you’re feeling right now. It’s called good booze and girlfriends, both of which are waiting for us at the Jay Bird.”
The bar was only a short walk from the neighborhood where Laurie and Courtney lived. When they arrived, two of Courtney’s friends, Arwen and Melissa, were waiting for them with a big plate of nachos and a pitcher of margaritas. Once Courtney and Laurie had settled in at the table, Courtney raised her glass and said, “Here’s hoping Brandon Kopp has a miserable, unhappy life.”
Arwen and Melissa said, “Hear, hear.” But Laurie refrained. Did she want Brandon to have a miserable life? No. She actually wanted him to be happy. And the wounded part inside her heart wanted him to come back and be happy with her.
“C’mon. Drink up,” Courtney said.
Laurie took a sip of her margarita, the salt and lime filling her mouth with its complicated tastes.
Arwen patted Laurie’s back. “Just remember that Brandon deserves whatever he gets. I work at Lyndon, Lyndon, & Kopp as a paralegal, and I just heard through the office grapevine that he’s decided not to join his father’s law firm.”
Laurie almost choked on her drink. “He’s not moving here?” she asked.
“I don’t think so,” Arwen said. “I was in the copy room yesterday, and I overheard Charles Lyndon telling his secretary that they were looking for a new associate attorney. They wouldn’t be doing that if Brandon was joining the firm and working in the Virginia office. Lyndon, Lyndon & Kopp is growing but not enough to justify two associate attorneys.”
“I can’t believe it,” Laurie said in a choked voice. “Honestly I’m starting to think I never knew Brandon at all.”
How could he do this to her? How could he have demanded that she give up her dream job at the University of Michigan for him and then choose not to join his father’s firm? The sudden fury was almost cleansing.
“Don’t you worry, Laurie,” Courtney said. “We’ll find some way of making his life miserable. We just need to put our minds to it.”
And just like that she knew what she needed to do. “Actually,” Laurie said, straightening her shoulders, “I think I have a plan. It’s not exactly mine, but it’s a good one.”
“Whose is it?”
“Andrew Lyndon’s. He dropped by to see me this morning.”
“Andrew? Brandon’s best man? I wouldn’t trust that guy any farther than I could throw him,” Courtney said.
“He also works for my dad, so you’re probably right about the trust thing. But he still had a killer idea for making Brandon see the error of his ways.”
“Do tell,” Melissa said, leaning in.
Laurie launched into a summary of Andrew’s visit and his plan. When she finished, Arwen leaned forward and said, “Wait a sec. That plan is all about you and Brandon getting back together; it’s not about making him miserable. You can’t—”
“Taking him back would be a mistake,” Courtney said.
“Listen to her,” Melissa said. “I lost my heart to this guy who was an English professor. So smart and so cute, but all he ever did was make me feel small and stupid. When we broke up, I was devastated. But in retrospect, it was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“That’s because Christopher was a Belittler,” Courtney said with authority.
“A what?” Laurie asked.
“A Belittler,” Courtney said. “There are ten distinct male types: the Belittler, the Ogler, the Space Invader, the Slut Shamer, the Player, the Too Selfless to Be True, the Not Emotionally Available, the Clueless Guy, the Manbaby, and the Nice Guy, Not.” Courtney ticked the types off on her fingers.
Laurie’s mouth fell open. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Yeah, but here’s the thing you should keep in mind,” Courtney continued. “Assuming you did want to take Brandon back, Andrew’s plan would only work if Brandon is a Manbaby. A Manbaby is the kind of guy who breaks up with you expecting to remain friends, but the minute you go out with someone e
lse, he’ll be all over you about how you hurt his feelings. A Manbaby’s feelings are the only ones that matter.”
This description rendered Laurie speechless. She took a big gulp of her drink.
“Well,” Arwen said, “Manbaby or not, Brandon made you change your career plans in deference to him, and then he dumped you. In my book, that makes him a jerk. And I have to wonder why in the world your father would send Andrew with this plan of his. If any man did what Brandon did to me, my daddy and all three of my brothers would give the guy something to think about for the rest of his life.”
Laurie sat there for a moment processing Arwen’s words, and a light suddenly pierced the haze in her head. “Wait, you guys. What if Dad isn’t trying to get Brandon and me back together? What if he’s using Andrew to jack Brandon around?”
“Would he do something like that?” Courtney asked.
Laurie nodded. “Dad is a master manipulator. He has this uncanny ability to read people and move them around like pieces on a chessboard. Mom told me he was so pissed off on Saturday that some of the wedding guests had to make an intervention. That just doesn’t sound like he wants Brandon and me to get back together. But knowing Dad, and Mom for that matter, they’re both worrying that I’m going to become a spinster with five cats. Mom wants to make me over. And I think Dad wants me to exact some kind of revenge on Brandon.”
“So your father lied to Andrew?” Courtney asked.
“I think so,” Laurie said. “I think he’s using Andrew.”
The four women sat together in silence for a long moment before Courtney finally said, “Oh my God, it’s brilliant. Your father gets Andrew Lyndon to think he’s trying to solve this problem between you and Brandon, when all the while he gets manipulated into doing stuff that will drive Brandon bat-shit crazy.”
Arwen laughed out loud. “I love this idea. I can just imagine it. You go out with one of Andrew’s friends—preferably someone Brandon knows and likes or admires—take a selfie with him, post it on Facebook, and then direct tweet it at Brandon with the hash tag #HowDoYouLikeMeNow. And the coolest thing is that you’re only doing what Brandon told you to do, going out and exploring other options.”
Yeah. It was brilliant, all right. And kind of cruel. But then revenge always was. And it might just make Brandon crazy, which would be okay. There was only one small problem: It would probably destroy Andrew’s friendship with Brandon. And for some strange reason, as furious as Laurie felt right now, it didn’t seem fair that Andrew should be the collateral damage in her father’s cruel game of revenge.
Chapter Five
On Wednesday morning, Laurie got up, cleaned the house, and then headed off to Winchester University. She figured she might as well finish organizing her office before the term began the following Tuesday. Besides, if she had to spend one more hour in Brandon’s fixer-upper, she might lose her mind.
She parked her ten-year-old Subaru in the faculty lot and walked to her tiny office in the Social Sciences Building. She told herself over and over again that she was one of the lucky ones. She’d landed an associate professorship at a good school. Many of her grad school peers hadn’t been so fortunate.
Still, it was hard not to second-guess her decisions. She’d worked her butt off as a graduate student. She’d even landed a research grant that had allowed her to produce a ground-breaking study of independent voter behavior for her thesis. Several polling organizations had already put her concepts into practice and had correctly forecast the Electoral College victory in the last presidential election. Among political science nerds, Laurie was a rising star.
So she’d been courted by a number of universities across the country but had decided to take the position at Winchester, not because of its prestige in her field, but because it was convenient for Brandon and his career aspirations. Now, looking at that decision with the clarity of the post-wedding debacle, she could see how stupid she’d been.
Why had she given up so much for Brandon? The short, disturbing answer was that she’d grown up watching her mother, who’d made a science of deferring to the men in her life.
There wasn’t much she could do about it now except look on the positive side and make the best of a bad situation. Winchester University might be small, but it was still part of Virginia’s impressive state university system, which included institutions such as William & Mary, the University of Virginia, and Virginia Tech, among others. There were opportunities here. She could put this college on the map as a center for the study of American voter behavior.
She spent several hours organizing books and supplies and was feeling almost hopeful about her life so, when her cell phone lit up, she foolishly decided to accept the call, even though it was from Mom.
“Hi,” Laurie said. “And before you ask, I’m fine. I haven’t tried to commit suicide, the cop you sent was kind of cute, and I’m at work right now organizing my office. So really, I don’t need a makeover or a therapist.”
“You will when I tell you what I was calling about.”
That was so Mom. It was almost as if she liked raining on people’s parades. “Maybe I should hang up,” Laurie said.
“Don’t be snotty, sweetie. You know the best thing you can do at a time like this is to look reality in the eye.”
What was it about parents? They could take hypocrisy to incredible levels. When reality knocked, Mom would go on a bender and then drunk-dial Dad or one of her endless boyfriends. It was ugly when reality arrived in Susan Wilson’s life.
But Laurie didn’t want to fight about it. So she leaned back in her chair and braced herself. “Okay, lay it on me. But make it fast, you know, like pulling off a Band-Aid.”
“I promise I’ll make it quick, sweetie. I spoke with Pam Lyndon this morning. And she had some troubling news.”
What the heck was Pam Lyndon up to? It was bad enough having Mom and Dad trying to run her life. “Since when are you and Pam Lyndon such good friends?”
“She’s been very nice to me, and she’s really concerned about you. She wants to introduce you to one of her nephews. Speaking of which, she called this morning because one of them, I can’t remember which one, Edward maybe? Anyway, he happened to mention to her that Brandon went to Bermuda on the honeymoon.”
“What?” Laurie’s heart started to pound as fury spilled through her.
“It gets worse,” Mom said, almost as if she were enjoying the process of bursting every single one of Laurie’s balloons.
“Okay.” This was like slow torture.
“He apparently didn’t go alone,” Mom said.
A knot swelled in Laurie’s throat. Damn. Damn. Damn. How could she have been so stupid? So he’d been cheating on her after all. Laurie took a big breath and tried to calm down. Of course Brandon had been cheating. Why else would he have stopped the wedding?
“Sweetie,” Mom said into the silence, “it’s not what you think.”
“What?”
“He took another man.”
“Oh my God, he’s gay. How could I have—”
“No. No, no. You misunderstood. He went with his friend. He’s not gay.”
“Which friend?”
“One of the Lyndon boys.”
“Andrew?” The moment she said his name, she knew it wasn’t him. Andrew had been here in Northern Virginia yesterday.
“No, one of the other ones. I can’t remember their names. Really, sweetie, Pam has a lot of nephews.”
“Jason, Matt?”
“Matt, that’s the one. Now brace yourself.”
Mom clearly didn’t know how to deliver bad news quickly. “I’m braced,” Laurie said.
“This Matt fellow is something of a ladies’ man, according to Pam. And he went with Brandon to teach him how to pick up women.”
Laurie thought about this for a moment and actually found a tiny bit of comfort in it. Matt was a player for sure, but the fact that Matt went with Brandon sort of suggested that Brandon was clueless when it came to dating
other people.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie. Are you sure you don’t want to come up to New York for some shopping?”
“I’m fine, Mom. Really. Stop worrying about this.”
“Wow, you’re taking this news well.”
Yeah, for the moment. But she’d binge on Ben and Jerry’s later tonight and probably cry herself to sleep. Right now she was merely furious that Brandon and Matt had gone on the vacation she’d paid for. The nerve of some people.
“Look, Mom, I’m at work. I’ve got to go,” she said.
Of course, Mom kept her on the phone for another four minutes, alternately cajoling her to come to New York for some shopping and a makeover and suggesting that she let Pam Lyndon set her up with one of her nephews. When Laurie finally extricated herself from the call, she felt restless, so she headed off to the faculty lounge in search of coffee and some sanity.
She’d just poured herself a cup when Michael Altimari, the chair of the political science department, entered the room.
“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon?” he said in that deep mellifluous voice that probably mesmerized freshman coeds. He was divorced, according to the departmental gossip, and had a reputation as a ladies’ man. He certainly dressed the part in a tweed jacket and plaid shirt with a knitted tie. His salt-and-pepper hair, heavy-lidded dark eyes, and absurdly square chin gave him the look of the quintessential middle-aged college professor on the make.
“I didn’t go,” she said.
“What?”
“I didn’t go on my honeymoon. In fact, I didn’t get married.” She scored it as a major victory when her voice remained firm even though her hands shook a little as she raised the Winchester University coffee mug to her lips.
“What happened?” Michael asked.
“I walked down the aisle, and he walked the other way.”
Michael’s posture changed instantaneously from one of curiosity to one of avid interest. Laurie realized that in Michael’s mind she’d moved from the column labeled “Married” to the column labeled “Available.” Michael’s gaze intensified as he studied her body from top to bottom. Laurie couldn’t help feeling that he was trying to pinpoint the reason Brandon had walked.
