I follow her into the single bedroom, and studiously ignore the queen-sized bed that sits unmade, as though she and Jason have just rolled out of it. That is not a picture I want in my head.
Annie directs my attention to an old wooden rocking chair in the corner of the room, nestled between the wall and long vanity dresser. It looks like a poster child for lead poisoning and is painted a pale yellow that’s cracked and peeling…everywhere.
“I picked it up at the flea market the other day for a steal. I thought I would paint it blue or pink, and do that whole shabby chic thing with it, then put it in the baby’s room. What do you think?”
I look at my friend, whose smile is positively lovely. Her shining blonde hair brushes the tops of her shoulders and she looks…happy. As much as I dislike the circumstances, I can’t help joining her. The chair is in rough shape, but with a little work, I know she’ll make it great. If anyone can do it, it’s Annie.
“I think it’s perfect. You could even make a little cushion to tie to the spindles, so your butt doesn’t fall asleep when you sit in it,” I add.
“That’s a great idea,” she says, clapping her hands together beneath her chin. Then she aims two fingers at me like a gun. “Hey, maybe you can come with me to pick out the fabric?”
My reply is instant. “Absolutely. We can make a day of it.”
“Want to go right now?”
Her exuberance says I don’t have much of a choice, so I nod just as eagerly. “What are we still standing here for? Let’s go!”
We end up spending the rest of the day out shopping. By the time we make it back to her apartment, it’s dusk. We made out well. Maybe a little too well. Both of our arms are loaded up to the elbow with goodies, and I help Annie carry the bags up the two flights of stairs, complaining the whole way about her only asking me along because she needed a pack mule. Her tinkling laughter carries through the hallway all the way to her door and is replaced by a warm smile when the door to her apartment swings open.
Jason is standing on the other side, his semi-muscled shoulders tensed and his cold stare trained on me. My good mood instantly evaporates. As he reaches out to take Annie’s bags, he leans down and gives her a lingering kiss.
Giving them their privacy, I look away. Now that the mood is significantly subdued, it’s time for me to leave. Jason holds the door and I shuffle inside, laying the rest of the bags on the dining room table.
“Okay, lady, I had fun today, but you wore me out,” I tell Annie as I stretch my fingers and arms, which are marked with deep grooves and tinged a deep shade of red from holding the bags. “I’m going to head home and veg out on some Mafia Wives.”
“Are you sure?” Annie looks disappointed as she returns my hug. “We’re ordering pizza tonight. You’re welcome to stay and eat dinner with us.”
She means it, but one look at Jason and I know that invitation is one-sided. I wouldn’t have accepted anyway. “No, thanks. I need to keep my figure up,” I say, patting my flat stomach. “Eat an extra slice for me?”
“You know it. Hey,” Annie says as she sees me to the door. “I know I already said it, but I think it bears repeating. If by the end of this class you’re still hung up on this guy, you need to give him another chance. It’s a tough situation, but it sounds like he really liked you.”
I almost regret telling her what happened between me and Ransom. Almost. The fact is, she’s good at dishing out advice, and I’d be stupid not to eat at her table. I take her words to heart, but I can’t be sure what, if anything, I will do with them. Only time will tell. “I’ll think about it.”
I wave as I slip past Jason, flashing him a tight smile on my way out. He mumbles a very unenthusiastic goodbye and I hear the door click closed before I reach the top of the stairs.
What she sees in him, I don’t know, but if she’s happy, then I’m willing to pretend I’m happy, too. Lord knows, I’m great at lying. What must it be like, looking at life through a pair of rose-colored glasses? And where can I find a pair?
***
The last few weeks of the semester fly by. Between work and school and spending time with my friends, I hardly notice it. Keeping busy is the secret to maintaining any level of sanity, especially during the tough times life hands out.
That’s how I got through my mother’s passing: I threw myself into soccer and friends and adopting the role of daughter and homemaker. It’s also how I got past my father’s death. Before you know it, time has skated by you and wounds that used to ache are beginning to scab over.