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“Eh, get over it. You’re better than petty excuses. You’re just milking it.” Maya is teasing me, I know.
I look up and see Poppy standing in front of the TV screen holding a glass of wine. “You know it’s not even noon yet. It’s way too early to be drinking.”
“Sweetie, have you met me? It’s never too early to have wine.”
I can’t understand why Poppy hasn’t found her own happily ever after; she’s gorgeous and talented and puts up with zero bullshit.
I sigh and accept the inevitable. My house is going to be overrun with women. Luckily, most of our friends are also dispatchers, so they won’t be able to switch shifts at the drop of a hat. At least that means that I won’t have a completely full house, just mostly full.
The white walls are decorated with puzzles that I’ve completed since my return to Maine, and I find myself staring into one on the wall above my couch. It’s an abstract rendering of peacock feathers that took me an entire weekend to put together. As I sit there, waiting for the chaos to start, I realize that neither Maya nor Poppy are talking at all. Looking down, I’m surprised to see them both looking at me.
“What?” I ask, unsure if I want to know the answer.
“Nothing. You just look like shit.” Maya laughs. “You might want to go take a shower. You kind of smell bad, too.”
I sigh, realizing that I need one. Getting up, I sigh again and make my way into the shower. When I’m done I feel a lot better, but I know that I still look terrible. My left eye has stitches above it, and the bruising makes my skin black and mottled-looking as though I were a bruised peach. The smaller of the bruises has started to turn a lovely shade of green that reminds me of something that has died. I’m lucky, though; I could have died.
After I put on my pajamas, I make my way down the hallway to the living room, only pausing when I hear what the women are talking about in the living room.
“Did he really tell you that?” Megan’s voice easily carries through the hall.
“Yeah. He called me when she was passed out and asked me if he had a chance. I didn’t know what else to tell him, so I told him yes. I mean, they’re kind of meant to be together, right?” Maya sounds unsure of what she is saying, but I know immediately. They are talking about me—and Jake. Jake must have called Maya about me.
“He still loves her. But I don’t think she’s ready to be with him, or anyone really.” Poppy sounds closer than the other women, but I know that no one will be coming down the hall. They will be too caught up in the conversation.
“What do you mean?” Megan asks.
“Maya, you know what I’m saying here. I don’t think she ever dealt with the miscarriage. She left. Not just him, but the whole state. She ran away, went to school, and buried what happened to her. I mean, I get that she didn’t know if she wanted the baby. Who would know if they wanted to keep an unplanned pregnancy with a man who has his whole life figured out when they’re just starting? But the decision was taken away from her. That’s the problem she never dealt with. And it’s not fair to her or to him to just assume that she’s handled it when he has no clue if she has.” Poppy’s right. I didn’t even want to think about the miscarriage until I drove back into Birch Harbor.
It had hurt too much. I haven’t even been with anyone sexually since then. When I was enrolled at ASU, I saw a therapist at first. Just to make sure there wasn’t anything wrong with me. I was told that I was fine. After a trauma, people heal at different rates. I would be ready for it in my own time. Maybe I need to tell my friends the same thing.
“I don’t think that’s it. There is so much more to it than you think. There are some things you don’t mess with. And what those two have, it goes beyond regular love. He flew out to see her graduate college and stayed in the back of the stadium, just so she wouldn’t see him on accident. There hasn’t been anyone for him since her. I mean, sex sure. But she was his great love.” Maya is saying things that I have never known.
Jake went to my graduation? He was there?
I’m tired of sitting in the hallway, so before I can change my mind, I make my way into the living room.
“Hey,” I say. “You guys talk too loud.”
The ladies look startled to see me, and a flush sweeps over Maya’s cheeks. She looks at Poppy, who looks away. Only Megan looks directly at me.
“What?” Megan says. “I brought alcohol, but you can’t have any ’cause you’re on pain medication. So I’m gonna have a few drinks, and you’re gonna tell us what the hell you’re doing. I know you heard us. And you’re too old to be playing games.” Always cutting straight to the chase, that is my friend. Megan’s curly hair has been swept up into a sloppy bun on top of her head and she is wearing a pair of yoga pants with an oversized t-shirt.
“I did get help. When I first went to Arizona. That’s why I stayed so long. They made me better and I was able to go to school. I don’t talk about it because I don’t like bringing it up. I have a life. I can’t live in the past. And that’s all there is to it. Jake is my past. What we had… is the past.” Even as I say the words, I can feel that I’m not quite telling the truth to my friends. Jake still calls to me on a visceral level.
“Liar.” Brandi’s voice comes from the doorway to the kitchen. The small woman has a platinum-blond pixie cut and almond eyes set in skin that is deeply tanned. A dispatcher who started after I left, she used to be Maya’s roommate.
“What do you mean?” I feel a heat flush my cheeks while I stare at the other woman, who is unashamedly drinking from an entire bottle of wine.
“Because I know that look. That’s the look of someone who is in love, but afraid to let anything happen. I saw it enough with this one.” She points at Maya with the hand that’s holding the wine bottle, and with the other she sticks a chocolate bar in her mouth. Chewing around it, she says, “You still love that man. Whatever else happened and whatever the hell you’re doing with that firefighter doesn’t matter.”
Not wanting to talk about whatever feelings I’m having or not having, Brandi’s comments remind me of the messages that Ray sent me. Without responding, I go over to my phone and pick it up. Thinking I hallucinated or overreacted to the messages, I read them again. Nope, still creepy. Sitting down on the couch, I pull my legs up so that I’m sitting on my feet.
“Speaking of the firefighter. Last night after Jake took me to his house, Ray sent me nineteen text messages. I shit you not. My phone was dead, and I didn’t see them until I got home. Listen to these.” I proceed to read them all the messages that Ray sent, and by the end I’m more freaked out than when I first read them.
“Who the hell does this guy think he is?” Poppy is the first to say something, her face turning red with anger. “I mean, seriously. Does he think that you’re his property or something?”
“And what business is it of his if you slept with Jake? You’re not his girlfriend. Yeah, you’ve seen him a few times, but that doesn’t mean anything. You’re your own person.” Megan is holding a margarita, and she looks like she is ready to roast him on a spit.
