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“Around eleven p.m. You have a big day tomorrow, and I do too. I’m gonna head home. And I’ll call you later.”
He sat down next to me on the sofa, smoothing the mess that was my hair away from my face. No one had ever looked at me like that—as if he knew me, and could really see me—but also with an intense curiosity, as if he wanted to know more.
As the door closed behind him, I lay there on the sofa where he’d left me, disheveled as hell with lipstick smeared down my chin, my ponytail decimated, and a warm ache in my pussy.
But I came to my senses and ran to the front window to spy on him as he climbed into a cab; he must have sent the limo driver home long ago. He cut quite a figure with his height and broad shoulders in his perfectly fitted dark suit. I felt a little pang watching him pull the door closed.
But just as he pulled away, he rolled down his window and took a last look at my place.
I wondered if he saw me, because a text came in moments later.
g’night beautiful. c u soon.
I didn’t answer. I wanted to play it cool. I’d thrown myself on enough men with disastrous consequences and didn’t want to humiliate myself again.
* * *
I slept like the dead, and when my phone rang at midnight, it scared the wits out of me.
“Hello? Hello?” I croaked. I reached for the glass of water I kept on my bedside, but in my clumsy sleepiness sent it flying to the floor. I struggled to sit up and wipe off the nightstand before I had the presence of mind to wonder who the hell was calling so late.
“Nara? Nara is that you?” I wasn’t awake enough yet to identify the caller, but it was an accent from my past.
“Yes, this is Nara. Who’s this? Did something happen to my mother?”
“Nara, calm down! It’s Becca Kates.”
Becca Kates? High school Becca Kates?
“Becca, why are you calling me so late? It’s midnight here.”
“Oh my goodness. I forgot about the time change. I’m so sorry! I always do that to you, don’t I? Listen, how ’bout I call you back tomorrow?” she offered.
“No, it’s okay. I’m awake now.”
Did I hear a baby crying in the background? “Becca, is that a baby? I thought your kids were older now.”
She laughed.
“You’re right. The older ones are, well, older. I had another baby since we last spoke, sweetheart! In fact, I just got him down, and now he’s crying again. Bill!” she screamed into the phone. “Honey, go get the baby.”
All the commotion made my ovaries shrivel.
“Nara, I’ll get right to the point since I’m calling you so late.”
“Okay.”
“Are you comin’ home for the reunion or not?”
Oh shit. The damn reunion.
But before I could come up with another excuse—I’d already used several—she continued.
“Now look, I know you have to come a long way. But you can stay with me and Bill and the kids if you don’t want to stay at your mom’s house,” she offered.
The dread that came with even considering attending the reunion left me in goose bumps.
“Gosh Becca. I’m not sure I’ll be able to come back for that.”
“What? You’re kidding, right? Everyone’s gonna be there. It’ll be the party of the year!” she insisted.
Was she kidding, asking me if I was kidding?
Of course not. Because for her, it would be the party of the year.
The old guilt had been building, and now, it lodged somewhere in my gut, like a huge ball of something toxic. Could I actually tell her I didn’t want to go without insulting her?
But she was more than oblivious to my apprehensions. I mean, how could I go back there and tell everyone about my new life as a CEO and entrepreneur in New York City? For one, they’d look at me like I had three heads. And second, I was afraid of rubbing it in their faces—I’d gotten out, and they didn’t.
Then, there were the fuckers I’d slept with. Thank god I hadn’t gotten pregnant. I might never have escaped.
“Becca, can I let you know later whether I’m coming? And if I can’t make it, I promise to come home another time. I’d like to see you and Bill. And the kids.”
“All right, sweetie. But let me know soon. I know these tickets are gonna sell out, and I want to make sure we have one for you. I’m head of the committee again in case you didn’t know,” she said.
The crying started up again. I guess Bill wasn’t that good with babies. Too bad she wasn’t closer. She’d be a perfect tester for Mommy Knows.
“Good for you, Becca. You’re always so organized and smart.”
Actually, I’d had to help her through algebra, and she’d only squeaked by with a D.
