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‘You know, I had you pegged from the moment I saw you. You think the world owes you some kind of favor because you’re rich.’
‘Excuse me. You know nothing about me. Don’t lay into me over a bloody desk. What about you? Mr Miserable Obnoxious Adams. Who made you hate the world, huh?’
‘You need to get out. I’m hungry. I have a raging headache. And you… you are just not my kind of person.’
‘Bloody ditto, Brooks. But we’re in this thing together so you need to just suck it up.’ She opens the drawer of her new desk and pulls out a hardback book. ‘Here. If you’re hungry, you can pick one of the main courses from my book. Those are your options for tonight. And I will know if you cheat.’
I snatch the book from her hand. ‘More rabbit food. Fantastic.’
She turns on her heel to leave. ‘Grow up, Brooks.’
‘Me grow up? Me? Enjoy your steak tonight, princess.’
‘Oh, I will. Enjoy your tofu.’
‘I definitely will!’
‘Fine!’
‘Fine!’
* * *
Just when I think my day can’t get worse, I’m in my local store filling a basket with tofu and bok choy, and then my cell phone beeps.
Omg Dad. Saw the pics of you doing salsa. Wtf?
I put bean sprouts into my basket and reply as I head to the cashier.
Do not use WTF in messages to me. I may be old to you but I know what it stands for.
Another beep.
But seriously. You’re a dancer now, Twinkle Adams?
She’s just about the only person who could make me smile right now.
Enough of that. It’s a PR thing for 2 weeks.
Beep.
I read about it. Not like you at all. Anyway, check this out…
Typing…
And my day can get worse. Infinitely so. The twelve-week scan of Alice’s new baby stares up at me from the screen. FML.
I’ve been so concerned with Izzy and work that my mind hasn’t been on Alice and the baby. Cady’s text plunges me right back there.
I manage to reply that I’m happy for them all. I guess on some level, I am.
As I walk home, I try to imagine how life would have been. Alice, Cady, maybe another kid or two. We could have been happy. But her parents, their background, and their need to marry their daughter off to some rich kid ruined us.
Instead of cooking food I don’t want, I pick up my guitar and slump on the sofa. When my cell phone tells me I have another message, I contemplate ignoring it, but I could never ignore Cady.
How’s the tofu?
Izzy.
