by Kat T. Masen
She is scheduled to stay here for a week, but with so much going on, I convinced Haden we need her longer. He argued about the cost of accommodations and not feeling confident the team at Indie Press can manage themselves, but Sandy convinced him otherwise, and he ended up approving her extended stay.
Despite our heavy workload, we chat in between, reminiscing about college life, including the fun we used to get up to, a time where everything was so simple unlike the complicated lives we currently lead.
“Do you remember the time we ran naked through the quad on a dare by those mean girls?”
I laugh, dipping my chin to cover the creep flushing across my cheeks from embarrassment. How irresponsible I once was.
“There aren’t many things I can say I wish never happened in my life, but that’s definitely one of them.”
“It was fun, remember?” Sandy grins, taking a sip of her latte.
“Yeah, until I got my period halfway through the run.”
Sandy almost spits out the warm liquid, coughing loudly. “God, how could I forget?”
“I don’t know.” Laughter continues to roll from my mouth as I try to get my words out. “I certainly didn’t forget.”
Our giggling is interrupted by Clint, standing at the door demanding our attention. As always, he is dressed impeccably from head to toe in his designer shirt and jeans.
“Good morning, ladies.” He raises his wrist, checking his watch. “My apologies, good afternoon. Time sure does fly when you’re taking a trip down memory lane.”
I ignore his snarky comment. Clint is an attention whore at the best of times. Great at what he does professionally, needy as a single gay friend who has no boyfriend to keep him occupied.
“I’ve booked our usual Friday lunch at Nobu. Are you ready to go?”
Shit. I’d promised Sandy I would take her out to this great place that serves these deep-fried pickles similar to the ones we used to binge on while cramming for finals. I know she is staying at a hotel close by, and I am already feeling terrible she spends most nights eating alone.
“I’m sorry, Clint, I promised Sandy I’d take her to lunch. You know, show her a bit of LA.”
His eyes glance sideways, avoiding me with a disappointed expression on his perfectly manscaped face. “Oh, I see.”
Sandy raises her brows at me, silently questioning what we should do. I know Clint looks forward to our Friday gossip session, but I don’t want to let Sandy down either. Torn between the two, I remain quiet.
“You know what, I’ve heard Nobu is great. If you don’t mind me joining the two of you, I’d love to check it out?” Sandy offers.
Clint shifts his gaze back onto us as I rein in my disappointment. As much as I love Clint, I grow tired of the nonsense gossip, and I was looking forward to being alone with Sandy, away from the office. She has a way of taking my mind off things and genuinely makes me laugh just like she did in college.
“Sounds like the perfect plan,” I tell the both of them.
Clint over-orders as usual. He has no problem when it comes to food, eating for two, or even three sometimes, never seeing a pound or inch shift on his already small waistline. I, on the other hand, have gained a few pounds of late. I try my best to ignore it, but deep down, it affects my confidence. I don’t quite feel my normal self, having to choose items in my wardrobe I haven’t worn in years.
“Are you going to eat more?” Clint asks, grabbing some sashimi off the platter. “I can’t get enough of this stuff.”
“It’s good,” Sandy agrees, taking another piece herself.
“I should probably stop.” I place my chopsticks down. “I’ve been eating like a pig lately and paying the price. The hips don’t lie.”
Clint drops his limp wrist. “Girl, you’re crazy. Your husband would tap your ass even if you gained one hundred pounds. Quit worrying and eat your food.”
“Remember those late-night pizza sessions we had in the dorm room?” Sandy laughs, taking a sip of water to clear her throat. “We’d eat a whole pizza each and didn’t see a single gain.”
“Oh, to be twenty-three again.” I sigh, raising my eyes heavenward. “Binge eating, copious amounts of alcohol. How life has changed.”
Clint orders another round of food. The guy is relentless. I grab another piece of Sashimi, placing it on my plate in front of me.
“Yeah, but you’re so lucky now,” Clint says, steering the conversation back to him. “A gorgeous husband I’d tap twenty-four-seven, and that house… girl, you got it all.”
I stop mid-bite, wiping my mouth, curious to how he knows about the house since I haven’t mentioned it to anyone besides Sandy.
“The house? How do you know about the house?”
“Haden showed me the link since you forgot to mention this ginormous change in your life like I’m not your work husband.”
I’m slightly annoyed Clint has been talking to Haden about this behind my back, and equally annoyed at Haden as well. What does Clint expect? Between signing the contract for the new house, getting our house ready to go on the market, plus Sandy’s visit, I am beyond stretched for time and energy to do anything else.
The world does not revolve around him. Everyone wants something from me, and if it doesn’t happen, it’s always my fault.
“Sounds like you have a thing for Haden, Clint.” Sandy smirks, watching me closely.
“Of course, I have a thing for Haden.” He throws his hands in the air in an overly dramatic fashion. “Presley knows it, the whole office knows it. Dang, even Haden knows it. I mean, have you seen the guy? Presley has one lucky hoo-ha.”
Sandy purses her lips. “I have seen him. Attractive, I agree. I just don’t, let’s say, swing that way of late.”
Clint folds his arms, raising his brow with curiosity until his eyes spring wide open. “Holy shit! My gaydar did not see that.”
“I’ve warned you many times you’ve been wrong,” I scold him.
“So, spill the juice.” Clint rubs his hands the same time I quietly shake my head warning her not to answer. “Girlfriend back home, dating, when did you realize you were gay?”
Sandy retreats back into her chair taking in Clint’s desperate need to learn about her personal life. On Fridays, we dress casually in the office, though her crimson buttoned blouse paired with dark blue jeans still looks classy. I really admire her sense of fashion. She is a very beautiful woman.
“I was dating, but we parted ways, so for now I am single.” She rubs the side of her neck before pouring more water into her glass. “As for my sexuality, I see myself as pan-sexual. I have dated guys, slept with them, but the past few years I have found myself connecting more with women.”
Haden and Lex have mentioned over dinner Sandy’s sexuality. However, I didn’t want to pry. In college, she dated guys, plenty of them. In fact, she was notorious for sleeping around with other people’s boyfriends which landed her in hot water more than she probably would ever admit. I figure if she wants to discuss this, it should be her doing, not mine.
When it comes to Clint, though, it’s always his doing.
“And what about you two, how did you meet?”
I look at Sandy, both of us breaking into laughter.
“Last year of college, we met at the library over a book we both wanted to borrow,” I tell him, remembering the day so clearly. “Sandy stalked me because I didn’t return the book.”
“Uh-huh… I needed the book to help me with an assignment, and we just hit it off.”
“But then we graduated and… I don’t know, what happened?”
Sandy’s eyes drop toward her fork, then slowly, return my way with a smile. “I think we both just freaked out. I mean, you had your boyfriend, Kyle, and yeah, I’m not sure.”
“What a jerk he turned out to be,” I complain, still irked over the whole debacle. “You know, he never showed up at the station? We were supposed to take that train to New York together.”
“I had no idea.” San
dy shrugs her shoulders, keeping her smile at bay. “Things happen for a reason. Plus, he didn’t deserve you. You’re beautiful, and he had no idea how to treat you.”
Clint quickly interrupts, “Yeah, and look at you now. You’ve got the whole package, girl, and a man who worships the ground you walk on.”
“I wouldn’t call it the whole package,” I reply, far from feeling so-called perfect. “We should get back… I’ve got a lot I want to do before the end of the day.”
Back at the office, Sandy has a meeting with Noah giving me some time to finish up an important email that needs to go out before the day ends.
I fall back into my seat, taking a deep breath. The last few weeks have flown by in a giant blur with nonstop work and the stress of preparing our house to be sold.
Gemma agreed to take Masen tonight so I can tidy the house ready for tomorrow’s first showing. Haden is of no help, still traveling and due back some time this evening. I’m surprised I haven’t heard from him today, but according to Noah, Haden had back-to-back meetings all day with no time to stop. Always nice to hear these types of things from someone other than your significant other.
With slight annoyance, I grab my phone to text him, only to see two text messages from Charlie plus a missed call. Letting out a sigh, I force myself to read them. They are short, just asking me how I am and if she can drop by. We were supposed to catch up for coffee last weekend, but I wasn’t feeling up to it, making some excuse about Masen. I felt slightly guilty afterward, but I only lied because I didn’t want to talk about the miscarriage. Charlie felt it’s paramount to discuss my grief, given she had gone through the same many years ago.
But I’m not Charlie Edwards.
She may have needed to grieve—I simply need to move on.
There’s a knock on my door, prompting me to look up. Charlie’s there, her mouth is curved upward into a half-smile. “Hey, I thought I might catch you here.”
“I was just reading your texts. I’m so sorry, it’s been hectic, and I lost track of time.”
“Can I come in?” She lingers at the door, and only now, I notice the flowy white dress which is unlike anything I’ve seen her wear. “I wasn’t sure if you were leaving just yet.”
“Maybe five minutes.” I gesture for her to come in. “So, what’s up?”
“How are you doing?”
I don’t want to have to answer again, but Charlie and Haden are relentless with my well-being. My frustration escalates, but this isn’t the place to berate her for asking me how I am. I need to let it go.
“I’m fine. Busy. Is that why you came?”
She takes a seat at the desk, wringing her hands, nervously. “So, listen, I’ve been trying to get you for a second because I have, um… something to tell you.”
I sit back into my chair, crossing my legs to hear what’s so important she needed to come see me on a Friday afternoon all the way at the office.
“There’s no easy way to say this. You’re one of my best friends, and I know it’s been tough lately, so I’m just going to say it because I think you should hear it from me.”
“My God, Charlie, what is it?”
“I’m pregnant.”
Silence falls inside the room as I feel my heart cracking like glass, spreading its pieces throughout my body with a sharp and stabbing pain. Nausea swirls unrestrained in my stomach, making the temperature in the room stifling hot. My head swims with guilt, despair, and a range of emotions clouding my ability to speak.
“Presley, I’m sorry. Are you okay? I know this must be hard.” Charlie’s eyes begin to glass over, tears building up as I continue to remain silent. I don’t understand her need to cry. She is expecting a child. A new baby. She isn’t walking around feeling guilty because she lost her baby.
My eyes shift toward the window, trying to absorb the news, but the more I try, the more my thoughts become angered, envious of the so-called perfect life she always seems to have.
Yet, I don’t need her pity.
Hiding the pain, I force a smile. “I’m fine. Congratulations.”
Wiping the lonesome tear on her face, she reaches out her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault I miscarried.”
“I know, Pres. But I remember what it’s like to lose a baby and watch others around you grow their family. It’s a gut-wrenching feeling. Something I have never forgotten.”
“Well, I’m fine. Life is good for me right now. It wasn’t going to work, timing wise, but listen, I really need to get back to work.”
“Oh, um… okay. Can we catch up this weekend?”
I want her out of here. Fast.
“Sure, just text me.”
Standing up, she extends her hands to embrace me, but suddenly, she retracts. Walking toward the door, she stops just shy of the entrance and turns around. “I’m here if you need me.”
My eyes widen, mouth planted with teeth baring. “I’m fine, okay? I’ll speak to you on the weekend. Promise.”
The second she leaves my office. I close the door behind her. My hand is clutching the doorknob as my chest begins to heave, overcome by waves of helplessness and anxiety which hits me like a raging storm. I lean against the door, strangled by the memories of the last few weeks.
The pregnancy test.
The missing heartbeat.
The memory of sitting on the toilet as I began bleeding.
I wanted to scream, but I’m gagged and bound by the need to compose myself in front of everyone. I don’t want anyone thinking I am anything but fine. People respect me, and what happened is none of their business.
There’s a knock on my door. Taking several deep breaths, I open it with another forced smile to see Sandy on the other side. She glances at me, eyes tight and worried.
“Elvis, what’s wrong?” She quickly closes the door behind her.
My walls begin to break down as my eyes shift to the side becoming glazed with a layer of tears. As I blink, they drip from my eyelids, sliding down my cheeks. I wipe them in a rush, letting out a huff.
“You know what? Don’t answer, at least not here. Think you can escape family life for a few hours to grab a drink?”
I smile through my tears. Being around her is so easy.
Sandy Reid has become the breath of fresh air I need in my life.
And during a time when I can’t breathe, she has become the closest thing to an escape I can ask for.
#JERK
I sit in bed, unable to sleep, staring at the blank wall as each minute drags on.
Beside me, my phone lays with unanswered texts and missed calls.
Where the hell is she?
She texted me hours ago, telling me that Cassandra was taking her out for a few drinks. That was at five. It’s now past one in the morning.
My resentment toward Cassandra grows deeper than I had ever anticipated. Professionally, she challenges every decision I make which becomes increasingly annoying. Decisions I make from a business perspective are always heavily thought out before anything becomes final. If, at any time, I am unsure, I have a highly-paid management team to guide me.
Yet, she undermines me every fucking time. In some ways, I push Presley to work with her because they have a past friendship, and she can act as the buffer.
I just didn’t expect that friendship to extend after hours when Presley should be home with me.
There’s a loud bang, followed by slamming of the front door. Thank fuck Masen isn’t home. The heavy footsteps click against the floorboards until our bedroom door swings wide open.
“You’re awake.” She rests her body against the door frame, unsteady as she fumbles in her purse. When she finds her phone, she attempts to unlock it, twice, before stumbling to the bed and sitting beside me. Unthinkingly, she falls back onto the pillow with an exhausted sigh.
“Oh look, you called me,” she slurs, the smell of alcohol lingering on her breath. “Ten times. Wow, that’s a lot of calls. What was the
emergency?”
Clenching my jaw, I try to rein in my frustration knowing it will go unnoticed. “Presley, at least take off your jacket and shoes.”
Sitting beside her, I remove the white linen blazer she is wearing, then begin unbuckling the strap of her wedges, tossing them onto the floor.
“If you want to see me naked, all you have to do is ask.”
“Trust me, I don’t,” I half-lie.
There is fun-drunk Presley, and then there Presley of late. Presley who flinches every time I try to touch her. The same Presley who has distanced herself, much like I have, in an effort to deal with the unexpected loss.
Presley flashes a flirtatious smile and shifts closer to me. “You smell good.”
I’m trying not to get sidetracked at our close proximity, still angry about her disregard for my feelings, but I can’t help it. I miss her so much. Things between us are always so tense, we can never agree on anything, and all we seem to do is argue. Nothing I do for her is ever good enough.
“You’re drunk.”
She giggles. “And you know what else I am? I’m fine. I’m so fine that Charlie and Lex are having another baby. I mean, some people are lucky. Life just falls perfectly at their perfect feet with their perfect house and perfect kids. Everything is just so goddamn perfect for them.”
Letting out a sigh, I somehow know this out-of-character drunken night out has something to do with this. During my panic of not hearing a peep from Presley, I called Lex. He mentioned Charlie had seen her this afternoon, told me about their news, and how Charlie was concerned about Presley. I’ll admit, it hurt, knowing they are expanding their family given it was a so-called ‘accident.’ They didn’t want any more children, but nonetheless, I congratulated them because it’s still a blessing in disguise.
I should know better.
Presley is quick to tell me she’s fine, has moved on, but she’s my wife. I know she is putting up a front. I just don’t know how to deal with it. So much like her, I bury my head into work to forget this ever happened.
“You need sleep.”
Presley’s eyes begin to droop as she drifts to sleep, her gentle snores follow soon after.
