“Ta-Da!” Elodie says as she steps out of the closet, dress, bag, and shoes in hand. It’s a little dressy for an ultrasound appointment, but if it’ll make her happy, I’ll wear it.
“That’s a lovely choice, Elodie. Thank you, baby.”
“No prob, mama.” She winks at me. “We’ll be waiting for you downstairs.”
“Yep, I’ll be down in a minute.” I take the Zimmermann dress off its hanger and slip it on quickly. I slide on the sandals and grab the purse, but pause.Should I bring it?It’s 12 weeks today, but maybe it’s time I stop doing it. He never responds to me. Ever. He probably doesn’t even see my text messages.
I walk into the closet and stop at the built-in charging station where my old phone sits. I pick it up and check for messages, butzero unread messages, zero missed callsstares back at me, just like always. My stomach sinks, which is ridiculous because there’s never anything new. Never. But it still hurts each time. Iplop the phone back down into its slot. Maybe it’s time to just disconnect the line once and for all.
I ended up getting a new phone and number a couple of weeks after Liam dumped me. I wince inwardly at that word,dumped. But I suppose it’s accurate. He disposed of me easily. My hands get clammy just thinking back on it.
It was necessary to do, though. It was verging on unhealthy how much I obsessed over constantly checking for missed calls or messages from him. Carla actually suggested I change my number to take back some control over the situation, and it helped. I no longer obsess over where my phone is and whether it’s charged. But because I’m pitiful, I couldn’t get rid of it fully.
So it sits in my closet, and once a week, I send him an update. I try to keep it focused on the peanut, but sometimes my bitterness slips out. Again, those messages probably fall on deaf ears (or is it blind eyes?), and I have nothing to worry about.
I do think about Georgia, writing her notebooks to Constantine even after they ended their relationship. She called it a fool’s errand. I call my version ‘pathetic.’ It’s the only word that comes to mind when I think about me doing the same thing. What makes my version so pathetic, though, is that no one reads my messages. Constantine always read Georgia’s notebooks, but mine probably never even make it to ‘read’ before he deletes them.
I’m leaving the phone. I nod my head, physically willing my body to agree with my mind.Decision made. If I get home tonight and still want to do it, I can always do it then. I have to at leasttryto stop doing this, this obsessing.I hate you Liam Millar for ruining me.
I turn off the closet light and make my way downstairs.
“My favorite girls!” Sandy walks out from behind the counter to greet the girls and me.
“Hi, Gigi,” both girls say as Sandy embraces them. It’s moments like this that I’m reminded why I moved here.Family, people who care about us. From the outside, it might seem kind of strange that the girls are already calling her Gigi, but Sandy was insistent that they do. Sandy just folded the girls into her orbit, like she does, so naturally. Like it’s never been any other way than it is now. And I get it; she doesn’t want the girls to feel singled out when the new baby has a Gigi, but they don’t.
It’s special because they’ve never had a grandma like this before. Damian’s mom passed away when they were babies, and Georgia was never in the picture, at least physically. Of course, they talked on the phone, but Georgia didn’t give them warm grandma hugs and bake them cookies after school. Fortunately, Sandy has zero qualms about filling in for Georgia and playing an active role in her adoptive grandkids’ and her future grandbaby’s life.
“Hey, sugar! You’re looking great today!” Sandy’s radiant smile practically beams at me. The girls don’t even give me a goodbye, they just walk straight to the back to find Jim.
I peer around Sandy and call out, “Okay, bye girls, love you, too!” Then drop my hands to my side in disappointment when they continue ignoring me. So I refocus on Sandy, “Thanks, Sandy. Elodie picked it out.” I motion down to the dress.
“I wasn’t talking about the outfit, baby.” Sandy winks at me. I can’t help but smile in return. She’s always trying to bolster me and lift me up. Sometimes it works, and for those times, I’m grateful.
“It’s the makeup. Without it, I’m basically just a hairless raccoon.” I laugh. Sandy doesn’t.
“That’s not true, Britain. You really are glowing today. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.” She arches a brow at me, and she’s right. I blush over her scolding.
“Okay, then, thank you, Sandy. I probably needed to hear that,” I sigh and she smiles at me, but not the bright smile she just gave me a moment ago. This smile is toothless and slight.
“You got a minute to sit down for a cup of joe before you take off?”Abso-freaking-lutely. I was mentally creating errands out of thin air so I wouldn’t have to go back home before my appointment.
“Of course. That sounds great!”Oh, shoot. “Well, a decaf cup of joe. I’ve already had my allotted caffeine ration for the day.” Sandy just chuckles in response.
“I’ll be right back.” She heads back behind the counter while I snag my favorite table, the one in the window. The town is a lot busier now than it was the first time I sat here. It’ll be busier tomorrow and over the weekend, too. But even on a Thursday, the town is bustling and moving. It seems like an endless parade of trucks pulling boats down to the marina. I can practically smell the sunscreen and pine trees, and feel the mist on my face from the wake.I should ask Alex if he’d do a boat day with the girls and me sometime soon.I get out my phone and add that to my list of ‘Activities to-do before summer ends.’
“Here we go, baby. One cup of decaf and a shortbread cookie.” Sandy sets the white mug and plate down on our table before sliding into the seat across from mine. Her presence soothes something inside me, and for a moment I forget. I forget about the last 6 weeks, and the pain, and the crying, and I feel lighter for a moment.A fleeting moment.
“Thanks Sandy,” I say with a smile, then motion around to the cafe. “You guys are pretty busy for a mid-Thursdaymorning.” Most of the tables are filled with tourists or part-time residents. At least that’s what I assume since I don’t recognize anyone here.
Sandy looks around, too. “We sure are. You know, if the girls want a little part-time job this summer, I’d love to have their help a couple days a week.”More alone time, great.
“Oh, you know, you’d have to ask them. But it’s okay with me if that’s what they decide.” Sandy smiles and pats my arm.
“I’ll ask em’ today!” She’s still smiling at me, but it’s that closed mouth smile again, and she’s not talking. This is very atypical Sandy behavior.
I ask, suspiciously, “Alright, what is it?” She looks away from me for a moment before returning her gaze.
“I’ve debated even bringing this up…but you seem a bit better today…”Keyword: seem.I’m getting better at hiding it.
