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I really did hit the best friend lottery jackpot with her. I walk over after drying my hands, wrap my arms around her, and squeeze her tight.
“Seriously, he didn’t do anything I can’t handle. I don’t want you to worry about this. You have too much going on as it is. It’s not important. He just said something, did something that hurt my feelings.” I give her one more good squeeze and step back. “Thank you for being my best friend.”
“I should be thanking you. I don’t like that you aren’t telling me, but I’ll back off for now. I trust that you’ll tell me when you’re ready or tell me when I need to show up with that shovel.” A small smile spreads on her lips. “Although, if it’s my brother we’re burying, I may have some conflicting feelings.”
I laugh, knowing she would never hurt her brother. They’re still working on rebuilding their relationship, but it still has a way to go. Just another reason why I don’t want to tell her what happened when it’s not so bad. Certainly not in comparison to all she’s been through. It would hurt the trust they’re slowly but surely building.
I turn back to the biscuits, deciding I’ve tortured them enough. I cut and then place them on the baking sheet to be popped in the oven.
She walks up behind me to give me one last squeeze around my middle before placing a small peck on the side of my head.
“Love you, Charlie. I’m here when you’re ready.”
I nod in response, knowing I’ll tell her in time. When all this other mess is over. After I know for sure that these stupid butterflies in my stomach at merely the thought of him aren’t real.
Jack: Are we still on?
Me: Everything is a go….
Me: Ready for lift off….
Me: The cat is still in the bag….
Me: I repeat, the beans have not been spilled yet….
Smirking, I shove the rest of the roses I picked up in the trunk of my car along with the dozen candles I just bought. He thought three dozen would suffice. Pfft, please. This man knows nothing. Just before I put my phone back in my pocket, I feel another buzz.
Jack: Are you always this way?
Me: You mean amazingly awesome? All the time. Why, Jack, I’m flattered.
Jack: Forget I asked. I really do appreciate all your help, even though you might be crazy.
Me: Well, you’re about to be stuck with me for the rest of your life. Embracing the crazy will just make your life easier.
Jack: I’m starting to figure that out. We still good for seven?
Me: Yes, yes. I know the plan. We’ve gone over the plan one million times. We got this. YOU got this. Now stop bugging me so I can get this shit done.
I toss my phone in the passenger seat, slide behind the wheel, and put my sunglasses on. I might be cutting this a little close, but I have faith that Jack and I are going to pull this off.
I was so freaking ecstatic when he came to me for help. I’m giddy just thinking about how fucking perfect this will be. Andrea deserves this. Jack is the perfect man for her.
I back up and pull out onto main street. I have two more quick stops, then I need to get over to Jack’s to set the house up. My phone rings. I huff, knowing if I don’t answer Jack, he’ll just keep calling, and I don’t have time for all that. We need to get this show on the road.
He’s been fretting all week over every tiny detail, wanting everything to be perfect, and it will be. If he leaves me alone long enough to get anything done. I shake my head and reach for my phone in the passenger seat of my mustang.
I answer without looking at the screen on my car dashboard. “Jack, you have to chill. It’s like you don’t trust me or something.” I laugh a little at the end.
“Why does Jack need to trust you?”
I instantly freeze at the voice on the other line. My head whips to my screen in the car. Damn it! It’s Andrew.
“Andrew?” I ask, even though I know it’s him. I can’t think of anything else to fucking say. It’s been a week of radio silence from him. Our night together was not even close to forgotten.
“You expecting someone else?” His tone isn’t quite playful, but it isn’t stern, either.
“Is something wrong?” I choose to ignore his question. It’s none of his business who I might be expecting.
