Under the Table(30)
Zoey giggled. Nothing sends a message that this girl isn’t worth it quite like watching a fellow comrade falling to his knees with his hands covering his groin. For all her faults, Ruth was true to her own code of conduct. Look all you want, but don’t touch her unless invited. Thank goodness they had already left. Tristan might’ve thought he’d landed on a reality show.
“It was nice of Tristan to pick up the tab,” Ruth murmured drowsily. “Please thank him for us. Did you have fun?”
Before Zoey could make up her mind how best to answer, she heard Ruth’s breathing change to deep and nasal. In typical Ruth fashion, she had fallen asleep before Zoey could respond. She should’ve known the question was rhetorical, Zoey mused, closing her eyes again as well.
*
The next time Zoey woke up, it was four hours later and she was still tired. She eased herself out of bed, careful not to disturb Ruth, threw on some clothes, and went down to the corner. Sundays when she didn’t have a job were spent with coffee and bagels from the local café followed by being lazy and binge-watching Netflix or playing on iPads. If Ruth was feeling up to snuff, they might have dinner at one of the hundred restaurants within walking distance. If Ruth was feeling wrecked, they called for takeout.
Zoey’s body may have gotten the lazy message, but her mind was having no part of it. It swirled in a storm of indecision. It was the same sort of pattern that she had adopted when things got rough with Derek, when she went to bed every night with a lump in her throat and a twist in her gut. She didn’t like it, and she was the only one who could make it stop. It was time to start making her own needs paramount again. The problem with her line of thinking was, she wasn’t sure what her needs were anymore.
She had accomplished breaking Tristan out of his shell. He didn’t have a disability and he wasn’t a child that needed to be babysat. She didn’t need to hold his hand through every step of his journey. The only flaw in that logic was that she very much wanted to hold his hand. And kiss his full, sometimes pouty lips. And rip off all the fancy new clothes she helped him acquire. She could also call Derek and tell him that she was sorry, but she didn’t want to wait the extra time and she had decided to act now. If she was thinking about another man, the marriage was surely over regardless. But going back on her word left her with a rotten taste in her mouth. And a two-month chaste courtship would be right up Tristan’s alley anyway.
Ruth dragged herself out of bed around noon. She came down the hall on autopilot, microwaved her cold coffee, and covered a bagel with cream cheese, making intermittent groans. She collapsed on the futon, next to Zoey.
“I need to talk to you,” Zoey tentatively began. “About Tristan.”
“I knew it!” Ruth’s sluggishness evaporated and she perked right up. Apparently Zoey’s crisis of confidence was better than a cup of coffee. “Did you let him down easy?”
“Wait. What are you talking about?”
“What are you talking about? You did tell him about Derek, right?”
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. In her jumbled state, Zoey had forgotten Ruth’s fondness for Derek.
“I’m the one who has feelings for Tristan. Not the other way around. I can’t tell if he finds me desirable, and I’m scared to tell him.”
“But you did tell him that you’re married?” Ruth repeated.
“Yes, not long after we met. It’s the main reason I’m in this quandary now. You and Derek talking me into this stupid agreement. Tristan is too proper to make any sort of move with me while I’m still attached to someone else. But if I wait, I’m going to miss my chance. And if I’m wrong altogether, I’m setting myself up for heartbreak.”
Ruth chewed her bagel and Zoey waited with growing impatience for her to weigh in.
“I think the first thing you should do is wait for him to make contact. Do not contact him, for any reason. He’s not the kind to play hard to get, so if he’s interested, he’ll reach out sooner rather than later.”
Zoey picked up the other half of her sister’s bagel and took a bite, more out of nervous habit than hunger. This idea already stunk. Before last night, she didn’t have to worry about him getting in touch. In fact, he texted so often, he was on the border of becoming a nuisance. After last night, it all felt different. Everything had changed. “And if he never makes contact?”
Ruth gave an uncharacteristically sympathetic shake of her head. “Then you have your answer, even if it’s one you don’t like.”
Zoey began to grimace. “And if he does reach out?”
“If he texts, it’s easy. Be cordial, friendly, stick with your usual banter. The idea here is to keep both of you from coming up against that wall until the year is over. You don’t want to burn either bridge until you’re sure. If you go back to Derek, none of it will matter, because you’ll be on your way back to Cleveland.”
Zoey didn’t know how to express what her gut told her—the decision had already been made. She had fallen for Tristan. But right now, she needed her sister’s help, not to get into a useless argument with her.
“And what if Tristan calls?”
Ruth gave that angle a tad more thought. “That’s easy too. Just let it go to voice mail for a couple days. It’ll buy you more time. Then, when you do pick up, if he’s calling just to chat, you have to run. You’re on your way to a job. You make it quick but cheery.”