“Of course. I’ll take care of the talk, shower, then I’ll call you.”
“Excuse me. Hillary, did you take a shower this morning?” Marcie exclaims coming from the bathroom.
“I did, why?”
“The mat in there is all wet.” She tells me.
Anger rises up inside me, and the words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Okay, but correct me if I’m wrong isn’t that what a bathroom mat is for? Stepping on to it when you get out of the shower?”
“Well. You should dry your feet off before getting out of the shower.” She replies.
I am peeved. I look at Jameson, roll my eyes, open the door and leave. What did I ever do to this woman? Why is treating me like this? It’s not fair. I was so happy when I first met her. It was so easy talk to her. She seemed to relate to me, to understand me where as my own mother didn’t. It’s not like that anymore. I feel as if she resents me for some reason. But why? Because I’m marrying her son, her only child? Doesn’t she want him to be happy? Does she think that he will live with her for the rest of his life to fulfill hers because she has no social game?
For the rest of the drive home I repeat to myself that I won’t let this ruin my thoughts. I will enjoy my time with Grandma and whatever else my time alone brings. Hopefully some peace and quiet … and laundry … I need to do some laundry later. If shit goes bad with Jameson’s talk with Marcie I bet I could convince him out of guilt to do my laundry for me. Nah, that wouldn’t work, and he sucks at laundry. Dishes he can handle, laundry he cannot.
Driving down the highway I hear an old favorite song of mine, “Joyride” by Roxette. I turn up the volume and start tapping my hands to the beat on the steering wheel. Seconds in to the song my heart stops when I realize I don’t have my engagement ring on. Panic instantly sets in. Where the hell is it? I run through my morning in my head as I continue to drive down the long, boring, woodsy stretch of highway. Fifteen miles later when I get off of my exit I pull off to the side of the road to call Jameson about my ring. As much as I don’t want to, in fear that he’ll be pissed off at me, I don’t have much of a choice.
“Hello?”
“Babe, I’m freaking out! I can’t find my engagement ring! I had it this morning – I was in such a rush to get out with your mom knit picking at me. I –”
“Whoa. Take a breath. Calm down. Tell me where you had it last and I’ll go look.” He calms me.
“Okay. I’m sorry. I’m kind of flipping out here. I had it on last night. I had it on this morning in bed because you were twirling it around my finger. Remember? Then I… Oh-my-god! The bathroom Jameson!” I shout. “I took it off when I was in the shower. I remember rushing out of there because your mom came in when I was in there and it creeped me out.”
“Stay on the phone. I’ll go in there now.”
I let out a deep breath of relief. I was scared for nothing. I’m such an airhead.
“Hil, the ring isn’t in here.”
“What? It has to be! I took it off before I got in the shower and left it on the sink with my bracelet and necklace. I always take my jewelry off before I go in the shower. It has to be there Jameson!” I shout in fright.
“Do me a favor. Relax and take a deep breath. I can hear cars whizzing by you and I don’t want anyone to slam in to you. Go home and I’ll keep looking around here. It’s probably in my room. I’ll call you when I find it. Okay?”
“Okay. You promise to call me as soon as you find it?” I ask with an unstable breath.
“I promise.”
AROUND 4:00 P.M. JAMESON TEXTS me to tell me he’s on his way to my house. While I wait for him I go downstairs and see what my dad is doing.
As I round the corner in to the garage where he does all of his work I see him covered in saw dust, safety goggles on and a pencil behind his left ear.
“Hey, Dad. Watcha working on?”
“Anastasia wants one of those windmills Grandpa makes. The one where when the wind blows and it makes the old farmer look likes he’s cutting a log of wood?” He tells me.
“Oh yeah, I love that one. Grandma and Grandpa still have one in the front yard.”
“Yep, but since Grandpa’s stroke he doesn’t make them anymore and since she’s Grandpa’s cousin I told her I would try to do it.”
“Well, good thing you’re handy like him. I’m sure it’ll come out great. You know if he hears about it he’ll take a walk up here to make sure you do it just like him.”
“Oh, don’t I know it. What are you doing down here anyway?”