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"I'll try. Like you. I'll try," he said finally before jerking his head toward the house. "Let's go inside and warm up. I'll drive Birdie home and talk to her. She'll come around and adjust to all of this."
Abigail felt relief flood her, along with something she hadn't expected when it came to Cal. Peace. Forgiving Cal and gaining some form of closure had allowed her to... see who she'd been? Or maybe it was like having the stitches removed from a wound. The scar was there, but the pain no longer was. She followed Cal inside, telling herself this was what she needed. Clean break with Leif. Closure with Cal.
She already felt stronger. And though her heart still ached over the most recent breakup, she knew she could heal. She'd done it before.
Just stiffen your lip and pretend the emotion away. Worked before. Will work this time. You don't love Leif. Say it enough and you’ll believe it.
But as she slid her coat on, Matt called, "See you Monday morning."
“For?”
"You're subbing for Mrs. Dyson, right?"
Poop. She'd forgotten that she'd promised to substitute for the pre-K teacher so she could go to a doctor's appointment.
Which meant Abigailwould be at St. George's bright and early Monday morning...and she would see Leif...and it would not be better. Her shattered heart would still throb, pulsating pieces scattered at her feet. But on the surface, she knew how to play the part.
Chin up, don't show the cracks.
Come Monday, she'd still be heartsore, but the world wouldn't know it.
19
LEIF LEFT MAGNOLIA BEND for the weekend. He couldn't stay because the Beauchamp wedding, small or not, was the talk of the town. He couldn't risk bumping into Abigail or any of her family.
Leif didn't want to see, hear, feel, or think about Abigail.
He wanted to drink.
So he'd driven to Houston to visit a friend who had been doing sculpture work for several large companies in the downtown area. Daisy Reynolds was much in demand and the perfect person to buy him a drink, tell him to suck it up, and get over the bourgeois concept of commitment.
Daisy didn't believe in marriage or any other convention that said she had to follow rules…like making vows or obtaining a license or sitting in a certain place. For a woman with such a girlishly innocent name, she was fiercely defiant and always the first in line to lead protests or marches against tyrannical, narrow-minded bigots.
This meant the moment they bellied up to Daisy's favorite bar in some high-class suburban area and Leif explained the situation between him and Abigail, Daisy didn't hold back.
"Love? That's total horse crap. We've gone over this before, but obviously you can't comprehend that it's impossible to be happy with just one woman. Men aren't made that way."
"Says the queen of one-night stands," Leif said.
"So? I know myself, but you, my friend, are walking dangerously close to being stupid."
"It's stupid to want to fall in love?" He motioned to the bartender and ordered a Scotch.
"I'll buy," Daisy said, sliding out her credit card. ''Open a tab, buddy. It's gonna be a long night." She looked at Leif. "And, yes, it's stupid. For one thing, love is a concept people buy into in order to justify their actions."
"You're messed up."
"I'm not the one with a broken heart, am I?"
"You have a point.” Leif took the glass filled generously with Johnnie Walker Scotch. They sat and drank, comfortably silent for a long while.
“I’ve never met a man who wants to fall in love as much as you. You're like the antithesis of every man your age. Youwantto be tied down. It's like something is broken inside you," Daisy said when he was on his third drink, this one bought by a group of women wearing bridesmaids shirts. One had already asked him to give the bride a night she'd never forget. Their silly antics made the concept of hating marriage that much easier for Daisy. She barely restrained herself from showing them her teeth. "How do they know you're not with me? It's not like I'm wearing my lesbian ID."
"Maybe because you bought that woman at the end of the bar a drink and you keep growling at me?"
"I'm not growling. I'm lecturing."
"One and the same," Leif said, smiling at his old friend. Daisy might be a militant feminist lesbian, but she was his favorite militant feminist lesbian.
