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In the same way, he let my lie go, I let his go. He’s not wrong. At the end of the day, we do need to talk. Maybe closure will be good for me; the ability to slam that door behind me for good might be healing.
At the very least, it will probably have him stop coming to me, interrupting this new life I’ve created.
“Fine,” I say. The single word makes his lips continue tipping until it’s a full-blown grin that makes my stomach do somersaults.
“Really?”
God, he looks so fucking hopeful. He looks relieved, content, and at ease, something I hadn't seen since long before I left him. I should tell him it’s just for closure, that I’m only agreeing to have some grand talk in order to finally end this, but I don’t. I let it go and nod.
“Yeah. I have stuff to do inside,” I lie. “Do you want coffee?”
He smiles wide before nodding. “Still black and one sugar,” he says, and something about that, knowing it hasn’t changed, his coffee order, the coffee order I used to make fun of him because he was 18 and ordering the most old man coffee on the planet.
Still, I back up into my house, start the coffee, take my meds, and start the toast like I do every day.
But this morning I pull down two cups.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Stella Jane?”
It’s not even an hour after I handed Riggins his coffee when I answer my phone, and I regret doing so without checking the screen or at least heading into another room rather than standing in the center of the living room with the front door wide open, where I’ve been pretending to putter around and clean. Secretly, I’ve been sneaking a peek at Riggins as he works on my steps and railing, watching muscles flex beneath his tight tee in a way I should absolutely not be interested in.
“Wha—” I say into the phone, brushing the hair from my face that fell out of my ponytail. Checking the clock across in the kitchen, it’s barely eight am.
Why is my mother calling me just after seven on my day off?
She doesn’t leave me wondering very long.
“Parker is at his mother’s kitchen table with ablack eye,saying you’re fuckingmarried.”There are a lot of things I could say in response to her exclamation, but I, of course, pick the stupidest of my options.
“Why is he at his mother’s at eight in the morning?”
“What?”
“It’s eight in the morning on a Friday. Why is he at his mother’s already?” I ask.
“Jesus, Stella, what does it matter?”
“I just think it’s weird, running to your mommy when you’re thirty because you got your ass kicked.” In my peripheral vision, Riggins’ head pops up, looking in my direction and stopping whatever he was doing.
“He lives with his mother, Stella. What does it matter?”
“Oh, that explains a lot, I suppose.” I walk over to the loveseat and sit on the arm, thinking about how I should’ve guessed the 30-year-old man still lived with his mother.
“How about you stop talking about poor Parker and start explaining yourself, Stella. I amsoembarrassed. I set my friend’s son up with my daughter, thinking they might be a good couple, thinking nothing of it. I should have fucking known you’d fuck this up.”
There was a time that would hurt.
Before I went on tour, when I was just a literal child, unsure as to why my mother couldn’t stand me to the degree she does, yes, it would have very much.
When I came home from tour, after the repeated,I told you so’s, absolutely. Then it hurt even more when I tried to fit the mold she made for me, the one she wanted me to be, and she still wasn’t happy with me.
And then I became numb.
The blue waters creeped up past my ankles and never fully receded. Instead, I just lived life trying to stay in the sun instead of sinking under. Her musings of disappointment, of,why can’t you be more like your sister,orif you had gone to college…didn’t hurt anymore because I stopped caring.
Most days, I’m simply surviving, and when you’re simply surviving, people’s poor opinions of you start to matter less and less.
“Poor Parkertook me to a bar, got drunk, then pinned me in a dark hallway when I told him I wanted to leave, telling me I owed himsomething. A something he did not have the time to elaborate on when a kind Samaritan helped me out.”
