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“I enjoy my job,” she replied sharply, then knocked twice on the door to her left.
She didn’t comment on the other, and it was clear no one had ever called her out on her attitude. Probably the way she looked. I was sure she’d gotten her way most of her life. I decided to push her a little more. See if I could make her snap.
“Your mama ever tell you that beauty is only skin deep?” I asked her as I leaned a shoulder against the wall and studied her.
She raised her eyebrows at that question.
A deep, “Come in,” came from the other side of the closed door.
“Did yours ever tell you to mind your own business?” she shot back. Then, a smile appeared on her face as she opened the door and stepped back. “Have a wonderful day, Mr. Finlay.”
I wasn’t ready for this to end. It was entertaining. I was enjoying myself. She would be fun to fuck with. Literally and metaphorically.
“Mr. Finlay!” a voice boomed, and I knew my time with the spunky little minx was over.
I kept my gaze locked on hers as I stepped past her and into the office that had to be at least sixty-five degrees. Looked like this was where the college’s air-conditioning budget was being spent this summer.
“Thank you, Brielle,” he said to the brunette, and she nodded, then closed the door as she left.
Reluctantly, I went into performer mode and turned my attention to the man in front of me. “Please, call me Dean.”
The man’s face beamed at me. It was a look I was used to. The one I’d expected. The one that Brielle hadn’t given me. Not even once.
two
brielle
Silence. It wasn’t something I was used to. Now, the moment I came home from work, I was surrounded by it. It sank in, and my chest ached. The deep kind of ache that made it slightly hard to breathe. Life was changing, and this was just the beginning. If I was struggling already, then how would I handle the day I watched him drive away in a car without me? Or the day I would have to drive away, leaving him at whatever college he chose?
I forced a deep breath in and sank down onto the kitchen chair closest to me. Placing a hand over my heart, I gave myself a moment to snap out of it. Cam had just left for camp for six weeks. He had worked so hard to help me pay for it. This had been his dream all year, and he was getting it. I should be happy about this. Music camp was all he’d talked about this past year. Last August, his music teacher at school had mentioned that Cam would benefit from it, and Cam had been determined that he’d get there.
“You are more than Cam’s mother, Brielle. You’re a strong, independent woman who has a good job and needs to accept that your son is growing up. You need a life too,” I said aloud to myself. I just wasn’t sure I was listening to me.
Sighing, I stood back up and walked over to the fridge. “You also do not need to eat chocolate ice cream, sit on your butt, and watch Netflix. You need to go for a run. Organize the hall closet. Read one of the books you bought that are piled up, unread, beside your bed,” I told myself while reaching into the freezer for the ice cream.
I wasn’t in the mood to listen to myself tonight. This morning, I had put Cam on a bus, headed for camp two hundred thirty-six miles away from me. I needed this ice cream. And possibly an entire bottle of wine. I had never been away from Cam that long. He had never stayed away from me for more than a night before, and even then, it was just at a friend’s house.
Then, add to it the fact that he had begged me for one thing before he left: to get Dean Finlay’s autograph. Dean Finlay had been his idol from the moment Cam fell in love with the drums. Slacker Demon had once been my favorite band, but life had happened, and I had changed. It would figure my son would idolize Dean Finlay. I’d been prepared to get his autograph for Cam today, but then the arrogant ass had opened his mouth. I’d failed Cam, but he needed a new hero. The one he had sucked.
Slipping off my high heels, I kicked them toward the door and took my ice cream to the living room. There was a new season ofSea Breezestreaming, and I was going to watch it while I ate my feelings. Just before I sank down onto the sofa, my iPhone started ringing. I looked back toward the kitchen. I’d left it on the table. Normally, I would ignore it, but not with Cam gone. There might be an emergency.
The idea that he might need me had me running back to the kitchen to jerk my phone off the faded blue Formica table I’d bought three years ago at a consignment store.
Clara, my best friend’s, name lit up the screen. She knew Cam had left this morning, and this was her check-in call. Unlike me, Clara lived like most twenty-eight-year-old single females that I knew. For example, she got regular manicures, went shopping for clothing, and went on dates.
If I didn’t answer her, she’d be over here in less than twenty minutes, bringing her bubbly personality inside my apartment. I needed to wallow alone, so I decided to answer.
“Hello?” I said, putting the phone to my ear and turning to walk back to the living room.
“Okay, hear me out,” she began, which meant she was about to suggest something I did not want to do. “I can come over and help you get all fixed up, and then we’ll go out to Chandelier tonight. You never go to the clubs with me, and I get it because you want to be home for Cam, even when he is staying the night at a friend’s, but whatever. Tonight, you need to get your sexy ass out of that apartment and go have fun. Meet a guy. Or guys. The sky is the limit!”
I scooped my spoon into the ice cream, waiting to see if she was going to keep talking. After a moment of silence, I knew it was my turn to speak. “It’s been a long day,” I said, and Clara groaned on the other end of the line. “It has been. I’m emotionally spent. Work was …” I paused because telling her about my very negative experience with Dean Finlay would have her freaking out. She was a huge Slacker Demon fan. Her past and mine were not the same. “It sucked, and then of course, Cam is gone. I just need a night to adjust.”
“So, you’re saying, tomorrow night, you’ll go out with me?” She jumped on that quick, and I knew she wasn’t going to let it go.
“Yeah, maybe,” I replied, not really meaning it.
“You can’t bullshit me. You know that. You’re going out with me tomorrow. I can’t remember the last time you even went on a date, Brielle. It’s been years. Literally years! What was his name, Jonah or Noah? I don’t remember. Doesn’t matter. You just went out with him twice. It is time to live. Put yourself out there. Have some fun this summer. Hot girl summer!”
