The Resistance(51)
He plays it off as he heads for the door. “Oh, yeah, sure,” he says, “no, um, flooring. We were talking hardwood flooring, right?”
“Yeah, right.” I take a deep breath, hoping the uncomfortable tension escapes the room when he opens the door wide.
“I should get back. You in for the night?”
“I think so,” I reply, kicking off my shoes.
“Thanks for coming and for the housewarming gifts. I’ll have to come up with an excuse other than needing sugar to pop round.”
“There’s always eggs.”
“True. See you around.”
“See you around.” I walk to the door and close it after he enters his apartment without looking back. With a deep breath, I sigh. Danny is my neighbor. I don’t date where I sleep and if my calculations are correct, we have about 2 feet between where our heads lie. That’s too close for comfort. Anyway, I have Dalton.
I pick up my phone and call him back. He’s on an adrenaline rush from the show and we both benefit from the good mood as he catalogs everything he loves to touch on my body and exactly how he loves to touch it. Since he’s not here, I replace his hand with my own and he replaces mine with his. It’s not the same as him, but with his dirty words and breathy moans, we both end the night on a high.
“Relationships are tricky. You bring a carry-on into it and end up with major baggage.” ~Johnny Outlaw
Sitting down across from Tracy, I drop my bag in the seat next to me, and say, “Hey there.”
She looks up from her phone as if she doesn’t even notice the whirlwind of an entrance I just made. “Hi.”
“Sorry, I’m late. I got held up at—”
“It’s okay.” She holds up her hand, no further explanation needed. “I ordered coffee. We should get you something.”
“Why are you drinking coffee? We drink mimosas or screwdrivers at brunch. Even a Cape Cod occasionally, but never coffee? You okay?”
“Yeah,” she says, waving the waitress over. Clear sign she’s diverting.
I lean forward, concerned. Tracy is never rude or impatient. “What is it? What’s going on?”
She straightens her shoulders and tilts her chin up as if she’s steeling herself for an argument. “I broke up with Adam.”
“What?” I say this way too loud, drawing attention from nearby diners. Lowering my voice, I whisper, “What happened?”
Snapping her fingers in the air for the waitress, Tracy orders two Screwdrivers when she arrives. “But hold the OJ,” she adds.
The waitress, not amused by Tracy’s treatment, asks, “So you want two vodkas, straight up? A bit early, don’t ya think?”
Tracy glares at her. “My fiancé has been cheating on me, so judge away.”
“Oh, honey,” the waitress says, her tone changing completely. “I’m so sorry. I’ll get the drinks.”
Tracy stifles a sniffle, but stops her before she leaves. “And I’ll have the pancake platter with an extra side of crispy bacon, two scrambled eggs with salsa on the side, and a muffin. Do you have blueberry today?”
The waitress answers, “Yes.”
“I’ll have the blueberry muffin then. Also, do you have those big olives that you put in your Bloody Mary’s?”
“From the bar? Yeah.”
“Can I have a few of those on the side,” Tracy adds as my eyes start bugging out. I guess we know what kind of griever Tracy is—comfort food is her friend, soon to be best at this rate.
They both look at me. “Oh, ummm.” I scan the menu quickly. “The Eggs Benedict please and a Mimosa.”
“She’ll have a vodka with me and make them shots,” Tracy interrupts. “And maybe I’ll also have the Eggs Benedict too. Seems fitting considering I’ve been in a relationship with a traitor.”
“I’ll put a rush on your order,” the waitress says, then hurries off.
I immediately lean in, still shocked by the bomb just dropped, and ask, “What do you mean Adam’s been cheating on you?”
She crosses her arms, and looks away from me. “Sure, Holli, take his side.”
My hands fly up in front of me. “I’m not taking anyone’s side. I’m just shocked because I know how much Adam loves you. I’m so surp—”
“If he loved me he wouldn’t have cheated on me with some ho-bag five years ago on Spring Break in Mexico.”
Sitting back, I digest what she just said. “Five years ago?”
“That doesn’t make it right just because it was a long time ago.”
I huff. “Stop twisting my words. I know it doesn’t. It just sounds—”