Funny Feelings (78)

“Fee is here!” Hazel signs.

“What?” I say out loud, turning toward the door.

“I tried to call. I rang the doorbell, too, so when no one answered I let myself in,” Fee says. She won’t even look at me.

“I don’t—” I start to say before I slip into sign. “I don’t know where my phone is.”

“Okay. I thought I could take Hazel to breakfast?” she replies, eyes barely darting my way, focused on Hazel’s retreating form, instead.

I can practically see the tension vibrating through her when I slowly step her way. She looks at me, now, expression cool. “I want to talk, I do. I just want to focus on Hazel this morning, first, if that’s okay? We’ll talk after?” she says.

I manage a nod, and Hazel skips past me toward the door.

“You don’t want to come?” she looks at me quizzically.

“I’ll get everything caught up here. You guys go have fun.”



I do get everything done. Busy myself, my hands, my head with any menial task I can. I even make the bed, but don’t wash the sheets.

When my girls return, the first thing Hazel does is tip her chin up at me in an angry scowl. The depth of discomfort I feel at this is irrational. If I were wearing boots I’d be shaking in them.

“Did you have a good breakfast?” I ask.

Hazel replies quickly. “The best ever. You really missed out.” The corner of Fee’s mouth ticks up as she smoothes a hand over Hazel’s head.

“I’m going to my room and watching YouTube, don’t try and stop me. I brought you leftover biscuits.” She tosses a box onto the counter unceremoniously before she stalks off to her room.

“I take it you told her I’m not your manager anymore, then?” I say to Fee, and immediately wish I could take it back when she flinches.

“I hope you don’t blame me. I didn’t know if you would,” she replies, making me wince in return. She folds her arms.

“Fee, I—” I wait for her eyes. “I’m so sorry for not talking about this with you. I owed you that much, at least. I got scared.”

“Of hurting my pathetic feelings. I get it, Meyer. I really do. I was sitting there yammering on about being together on all these things, being so fucking dependent on you that you didn’t want to be the bad guy and let me down, I get it.” She swipes angrily at a tear.

“That’s not—Fee, you’re not dependent on me.”

“Obviously, Meyer, I am. I mean, I even needed you to publicly be interested in me in order to secure this job, right?”

“Jesus, no, that’s why I didn’t even want to at first. Stop, please.”

“And then, when I go against your advice, it bites me in the ass. Or the face, more like.”

“Are you mad at me for not talking to you first, or are you mad that I made this decision, Fee?”

“Both!”

“Well, can you let me explain to you where I’m coming from, first, dammit?”

Her nostrils flare. “How long were you planning it, or I guess, more importantly, how long were you feeling this way? I want to know.”

“When they came to us in October and I agreed to the dating, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to continue working together after.”

Her mouth falls open in shocked hurt. “Why didn’t you—? What? I would have never—”

“Never what? Never told me your feelings for me? Gone on that way forever? You’d have been fine like that?”

“That’s not—”

“I thought I’d have to pull back because I thought your feelings wouldn’t be the same as mine, Fee. I thought that I’d get a taste of what it would be like to be with you, that way, and then it would end and I’d be even more ripped apart.”

“And now, what? You got a taste and want to pull back because you realize you feel less than me? Why did you ask me to live with you? Out of sympathy?”

“God dammit, Fee, no. Being with you makes me want more. Of everything. Of you, more than anything else, but also, out of my career. I want to do something that I love, again. It might not be stand-up, but there’s something else for me, okay? I don’t know what it is, but I know that if I want it to connect, I have to actually put myself into it again. Not just some writing here and there, I have to work at it.”

Her face softens at that, hands falling to her sides. “Oh.”

“It doesn’t excuse not talking to you. I just—I wanted to find the right way. The right time. I don’t know.”

She nods with a shrug, looking down at her feet.

“I also…” I swallow, mouth dry. “I also know that in the long run, working that closely together can’t be good for a relationship. I want to be smart with us.”

She snorts. “So, we’re back to being smart, huh?”

“You know what I mean.”

“It feels like…” she looks up at the ceiling, trying to let tears drain back. “It feels like you’re taking a step back. I know what the good, smart choice is, and I understand why you want to make it. I get that I should be happy that you want to do the right thing, and I know I should want that, too. But can I just admit that…” she growls in frustration. “Never mind.”