A Life More Complete(90)
Melinda leans closer to Ben and half whispers, “I was planning on it. It just...”
“It just what, Mel? It slipped your mind? Doubt it. I walked in on you making plans with him today and you had the balls to lie to my face. We’re done. I’m done with both of you!” I shout once again a little too loud.
“Let’s go Ben,” Melinda says as she rises from the table. I can feel my anger coming out in the form of tears that I have been trying to hold back. I don’t move when she stands so we are now face to face. I feel a hand on my shoulder pull me back just slightly allowing Melinda room to pass.
Looking over her shoulder at me and for the first time since my walk on the crazy side, she addresses me directly, “Luckily you didn’t make a fool of yourself in front of a bar full of people.” Her tone full of sarcasm as she walks right into a pole in the center of the bar. Sometimes it’s like the universe is on my side for once.
Bob drags me back to the table both of us laughing so hard that tears are streaming down our faces. “Classic,” he says.
“I know, right?” I respond picking up a slider and inhaling it in one quick bite. “She didn’t even look as cute as I do when I do something stupid. It’s part of my charm,” I say winking at Bob as I chew up my second slider.
“Agreed,” Bob says picking up his drink and clanging it against my water glass. “Now in all honesty, that was a hot mess. What the hell was she thinking? And him, too?”
Driving home, I have calmed down just slightly. I have time to assess the situation for what it really is. I’m upset that someone I called my best friend betrayed me like that, but the heart of problem still seems to hold firm over the fact that I harbor an unrequited love for Ben. I’m disgusted that she took my relationship with Ben and turned it into a trashy one night stand. She has no interest in Ben other than sleeping with him and moving on. I also can’t believe he’s foolish enough to fall prey to her game of hair flipping, eyelash batting, fake boobs in a push-up bra act that makes her look so desperate for attention. I want to be angry with him, but I can’t find it in me. Maybe that speaks volumes about how I feel about him.
When I pull in Tyler is still not home. I call him before I even exit the car and it goes straight to voicemail, like always. Climbing into bed I text him while my laptop starts up.
Me: Where are you? It’s after 11.
I begin to search flights to Chicago as I try to figure out how much of a hit I will take transferring my flight from Atlanta to Chicago. One of the worst things about my father dying should be his actual death, but unfortunately it isn’t. It happened to fall on the same weekend that Rachel and I were supposed to visit Maizey in Georgia.
My phone vibrates on my leg as Tyler responds to my text.
Tyler: Office
Me: I need to book flights for Thursday. You good with 8:15am?
Tyler: Flights for what?
Me: Uh...My dad’s funeral!
Tyler: Oh, yeah. I can’t go. I gotta work.
Me: I hope this is a joke.
Tyler: No joke. Can’t go.
Me: Come home. We need to talk about this.
Tyler: Busy. Talk tomorrow. Go to bef.
Me: Bef??? Seriously. Come home.
Tyler: Go to BED.
I launch my phone across the room and that’s when the tears begin to fall. I like to think that I’m emotional from the surge of excessive hormones that are running through my blood, but I know it’s more than that. The thought of returning home alone scares me to death. I haven’t heard my mother’s voice since leaving almost eleven years ago and I can feel my stomach churn as I recall the conversation. I haven’t even given it a moment to settle in with the all the drama surrounding Melinda and Ben and now having to deal with Tyler and his holier than thou attitude. They say everything happens in threes, well I guess I can call my shit storm of a day done.
I book a flight for Thursday morning and text my sister the details all the while sniffling and swiping tears before they hit the screen on my phone. Right now the last place I want to be is anywhere near my mother, not to mention the thought of identifying the dead body of my father, a man I haven’t seen since I was nine years old.
I call Bob because right now I have no one else to call. I know Maizey is crying like a baby and Rachel is acting like nothing’s wrong, so that leaves them out. Calling Gia is totally out of the question seeing it is now one in the morning. A middle of the night wake up call will send her into a panic and that’s the last thing I want to do to a mother of three who has problems of her own.