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That had pained me deeply. Scary territory isn’t just a thrill for me. It’s not just an adrenaline rush. It’s deep, deep trust and connection.
But I’d understood why he felt spooked. He needed space. His leaving gouged me to my soul, but I wasn’t going to throw myself at him. He put up a boundary, and I had to respect that.
I respected him so much that we’d come up with a phony reason that we weren’t together anymore. We told everyone that I’d broken up with him because he’d wanted to wait to marry until his dad was out of prison, and I didn’t want to wait.
And that’s where we’d left it. People could fill in the gaps if they wanted to.
I’ve heard all the rumblings and theories, and I don’t care what anyone thinks. I’m used to being the bad guy. I’ve earned that reputation in college. The only thing I care about is the Herc-sized hole in my heart. And the emptiness in my bed.
“Excruciating? I’m fine,” I reply to Mama, glancing around the room. If anyone is fine, it’s me. Look at this place. Look at my life. I’ll never have to worry about money. I’ll always have a roof over my head. My mother never had to scrape together the cash for school clothes. She’s never looked at a bill and wondered how to pay it—the accountants handle all of that.
She sees right through me. “Hmm. Why don’t you tell me what really happened between you two? Herc really was my favorite of all your exes. I’m sure that his father would say the same about you. At least, I imagine. And I think he was your favorite, too, judging by how you haven’t dated anyone since.”
Right. Like I’m going to tell my mother that her big sweetheart Herc freaked out during consensual-nonconsensual bondage play and ghosted me, feels terrible about it, and now has blocked me on all social media.
My hand goes to my neck self-consciously. No adornments there, yet I always have the urge to reach for the simple gold chain, as if touching that empty spot might summon my man back to me.
I haven’t worn the gold “M” necklace since we broke up. Herc gave it to me for my birthday, even though we’d said no gifts. I hadn’t wanted him to feel weird that I had money and he didn’t. Yet, the boy spotted the “M” at a pawn shop while haggling over Herc’s college class ring with the owner. Herc scraped the money together, and when I’d scolded him for pawning his ring, he’d smiled and told me it was his destiny to buy that necklace for me.
I still feel so much love for Herc’s stubborn, sentimental soul.
With everything that necklace came to symbolize in our little games, I just haven’t been able to bear wearing it.
I decide to tell her the truth, but not in the way she thinks. “I was too giving, and it freaked him out. As a man.”
I know I’ve got her number with this take. How many times have men left my mother over the years because they felt emasculated by her money and generosity?
She huffs, takes another sip of her tea, and then says, “Once a man finds out your net worth, it’s all downhill. All I require of them is a sense of humor, good conversation, and a big penis. It shouldn’t be that hard. Well, it should be hard, but you know what I mean. I can’t imagine why anyone makes comparisons when it comes to financial status. Too bad, honey. I always thought Herc was different. Maybe the family’s fall from society was tougher on him than we all thought. I’m sorry.”
Mama excuses herself, then, for her monthly volunteer meeting with the Flowering Bridge committee. She gives me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before she exits, leaving me to my thoughts.
Leela, Crosby, and the whole gang plan to meet at the Broad River trail in Chimney Rock to do some river walking. With Cass watching from the boardwalk, of course; no way Titus would let her scramble over slippery rocks, not with her growing belly. Cass must be eight months along by now.
Another one of my regrets about the breakup: I haven’t been there for my Beta Beta Psi sister. Sure, I got that first joyous phone call with the news. But I know I’ve missed out on other things. No celebratory family meals with the four of us. No girls’ shopping trips to pick out nursery furniture for Cass and Titus’s condo.
The worst part is I know she and Leela, Mila, Ashley, and others have already seen the sonogram photos. Felt the baby kick. Cooed and fussed over our Cass. She’s easy to fuss over; she brings out everyone’s protective nature. As much as I don’t want children, I do wish things had gone differently. I want a sister-in-law and a niece or nephew to spoil absolutely rotten with gifts and attention.
After the water hike and some shopping in Chimney Rock village, the group plans to hit Shambles for dinner, one of those tucked-away lakefront holes in the wall, legendary for its cheap beer, chicken wings, and lack of atmosphere. I haven’t been there in years because it’s also gossip central for the lake folks.
Tomorrow, we’re all conspiring to surprise Cass with a small baby shower brunch at Esmerelda’s—the other end of the dining spectrum from Shambles. Then, whoever’s up for it will climb the five hundred steps to the top of Chimney Rock.
And that’s the extent of the entertainment I have the bandwidth for. People are free to do what they want after that; I’ll be popping some gummies and spending the rest of the weekend in my jammies with my new best friend, French onion dip.
So, I still have a few precious hours to myself. I change into my cropped jeans and a sweater, grab a travel mug of coffee, then head down the creaky fifty-five wooden stairs to the boat house.
Why drive a car to enjoy autumn leaves in the mountains when you can be on the water and avoid traffic?
I just need to sit in the boat and stare at The Sleeping Lady for an hour. She’s the only one who knows my secrets.
TWO
Herc
Hungover, I stare vacantly at the water-stained ceiling in my grubby little apartment above the tavern, questioning my life choices.
The place is more of an afterthought than an apartment, as half this space is taken up with storage. My one wall of privacy isn’t a wall at all but a tall shelf stuffed full of bulk cans of ketchup, mustard, meat rubs, and bar peanuts. The wall opposite my mattress is where my boss stacks the boxes of booze, including the Jim Beam I used last night to obliterate my feelings.
My phone pings. I groan and rub my eyes before snatching it free of the charger cord next to my mattress.
