Georgia on Her Mind(16)
“Good. And by the way—” he nods toward his truck “—it has a hemi.” He winks.
Meltdown complete.
Monday morning I stride toward my sunny corner office with my confidence reservoir up a fraction. My trip to Miller Glassware was a moderate success, I had a nice weekend in Beauty and—blow the trumpets—Dylan Braun called me pretty.
I dock my laptop and boot up, carefully store my bag in the bottom desk drawer and flop into my chair. Despite recent upsets, being in my office gives me a sense of normalcy, as if the world is right side up again.
Wearing a pair of rustic red capris, I feel light and breezy. This is the feeling I wanted yesterday when Dylan watched me tumble into a pile of trash. I wince at the mental instant replay. Bless Dylan for not letting loose with a knee-slapping belly laugh.
Attila the Hun pops her giant blond head around my door. “Hello, Macy.”
“Roni.” Her presence makes me queasy.
“Be sure to file a report on your Miller trip, and we need your input on the Holloway proposal.” She waits for my okay.
“Sure,” I say without looking up. I’m feeling very passive-aggressive today. Sure, I’ll do it. Next week. Maybe.
Once Roni is out of earshot, I autodial Lucy. One ring and she picks up. “Lucy O’Brien.”
“Hey.”
“How was Beauty?”
“Believe it or not, great.” I peruse work e-mail, reading and deleting.
Holloway Proposal. Delete.
“Wonders never cease.”
“Oh, you of little faith.”
I click on the Delete folder and retrieve the Holloway proposal. So Roni is a self-promoting shrew—it doesn’t mean I should stoop to her level. I do not want to be like her when I grow up.
“I never understood why you were so desperate to leave home. Beauty is a wonderful, cozy little town,” Lucy says.
“I talked to Joley McGowan at Sizzler.” I smile, knowing she’s going to die when I tell her the news.
“What’d she want?” Lucy, sweet Lucy who loves everyone, never cared much for Joley on account of my crush on Dylan and the fact that Joley dated him.
“She wants me to emcee the class reunion.” I recline back in my desk chair and gaze out the window. I see nothing but blue skies and the tops of green palms.
“Are you going to do it?”
“I told her maybe.” Never mind what I told Dylan. I attended reunions five and ten strutting around like a proud peacock over my Casper career. The girl most likely to succeed did.
The fifth reunion came right after my trips to Madrid and London, and right before my trip to Florence. Not South Carolina either—Italy.
I bragged and gloated. Snubbed those stay-at-home moms with their two-year-olds. I regaled the room with my “travel abroad” stories.
The tenth reunion came right after I’d been promoted to team leader. Two years later I made manager.
Serves me right. Pride goes before a fall. Now look.
“Macy, be the emcee,” Lucy says with resolve. “You’re perfect for the job.” While she is no way as alluring as Dylan, she is my best friend and that has to count for something.
“Maybe,” I say. “But never mind that. Guess who’s a millionaire?”
Open bomb-bay doors.
“Besides John Friedman?” She’s dying to know, I can tell.
“Skip Warner. And he’s married to Joley McGowan.” Bombs away!
“What? I knew that. Tell me something I don’t know, Macy.”
“You knew?” I shoot out of my chair. “Then why don’t I know? What kind of friend are you?”
“Oops, I meant to tell you. I guess I forgot.” She sounds sheepish and repentant, but I’m not letting her off that easily.
“Then I guess I forget to tell you what Dylan said to me yesterday.”
“What? You can’t keep Dylan news a secret. Details, details.” She’s yipping like my aunt May’s toy poodle.
“Nope, too bad. You’ll have to wait.”
“Fine, but I want all the details, every last tidbit, right down to the brand of his T-shirt.” Her normal voice, thank heaven, returns.
I laugh at her desperation. “Okay, details it is.” I’m actually dying to tell her.
I stretch and walk over to the window. The day is so gorgeous. Procrastination is beckoning. I look out at my car in the parking lot, wondering if I can escape. Um, hey, there’s Roni getting into her car with Mike.
“Lucy.” I whisper.
“What?” She whispers back.
“Attila is leaving with Mike Perkins.”
“Really?”
“Do you think—”
“Stop. Don’t go there, Macy. It’ll only pollute your mind. You don’t know and you can’t assume.”
I watch Attila’s burgundy car exit the Casper campus and head south. “You’re right.”
“Doesn’t help your feelings, though, does it?” Lucy says softly.
“Not really. But you know, I hope it’s not true. Mike is married with little kids.”
I feel burdened. Not only for me, but for Mike Perkins and Roni Karpinski. She lives one sad life, but she believes she has it all. One day she’ll be forced to retire, and Casper & Company won’t care that she sits alone in her house on the river with no one to visit.