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But that’s not for me. It’s for her and all the other Maxine Watersons of the world.
Clicking off the website, I people-watch instead.
It used to be one of my favorite things. I’d people-watch and imagine what problems they were going through and try to figure out what I’d say to them if they came to me for counseling or therapy… whichever specific branch I decided to pursue.
This was before Dad, before I turned borderline cata-freaking-tonic for a while.
Before Logan made thinking of anything else impossible.
Back at work, I often look at the clock, counting down the minutes until it’s time to meet Logan.
* * *
“Youhaveto dress the part,” Jane said to me last night.
She was trying to persuade me to take a change of clothes to work.
“You’ll regret it if you don’t,” she went on. “Take it from somebody who’s been there. You remember Freddy the Fireman?”
I smiled, nodding. “You went completely cuckoo over him.”
“Exactly. Just like you are with Logan.”
I thought,notexactlythe same.
“And once, I went to work, knowing I was going to meet him. This was in the early days. I still wanted to impress him but I didn’t bring a change of clothes.”
“Okay…so what happened next?”
“A bird crapped on my blouse,” she said. “And the date was ruined.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “So I should take a spare change of clothes just in case a bird craps on me? Surely that means I’d need to bring fresh clothes everywhere.”
Jane thought for a moment, then waved a hand. “Forget all that, then. Think of it like this. Don’t you want to lookhot?”
As I close the bathroom stall door behind me, I repress a mean thought.
Is it possible for me to look hot?
I push that thought away, marking it for the self-hating crap it is.
Nothing good can come from endlessly comparing myself with Logan’s other women.
Even that phrase,other women, implies that I’m more to him than someone he’s decided to help. Somebody whose life was irrevocably changed by a hit-and-run driver, just like his was, except my experience turned me inward, and his made him into a playboy.
When his family was alive, there hadn’t even been rumors of Logan seeing other women gallivanting around town, becoming the man he is today.
I take the outfit from my bag.
It’s a simple pair of jeans and a strappy top, the kind I wear a lot because they feel comfortable, but they also look kind of stylish. I’m not sure they lookhotor anything like that, but – I remind myself – I’m done with that.
For now.
Unless, by some crazy miracle, Logandoesfind me….
Somebody does their business loudly from a few stalls over, which is fine. This is a bathroom. But it jolts me out of my thoughts and gets me focused on the task.
Changing into the clothes, I study myself briefly in the mirror. My eyes look tired, with dark pits around them.
