“Thank you.” I motion toward the wood. “All of it is there, and now you can drive down your driveway.”
There’s a small smile on her lips as she looks toward the ground. “Thank you, Clay.”
“It’s no problem.”
She shakes her head. “No, you really didn’t have to do this for me.”
I take a step forward, making her look at me. “I’d do anything for you.”
Her eyes lower as her shoulders slump. “I just can’t, Clay.” She turns and walks away, her footsteps less determined as she drags herself back to her house.
I watch her and see the sadness apparent in every muscle in her body. This is really affecting her just as much as it is me, and I hate to see her this way. She wants to forgive me and trust me again, but she doesn’t know how. I can’t blame her, but I wish I knew how to fix it.
45
RYLEE:NOW
Scooping up a glob of mortar,I flick it onto the concrete subfloor in my kitchen and use my trowel to spread it around. Once I get the area covered, I rub mortar onto the back of the bricks to back butter them and lay them three-eighths of an inch apart, staggering them. After this kind of work, I always have dust in my hair and dried mortar under my nails, but I love the calmness with Sabrina Carpenter singing in the background, “Please Please Please.” This is when I get time to make my vision become reality, and I get one step closer to accomplishing my goals.
The only thing is, I can’t seem to clear my head of thoughts about Clayton. Doing projects is a type of therapy for me. I’m able to think and completely clear my head. The look on his face told me he was serious that night at the lookout, and I want to move past this. But how do I know he won’t do it again one day? How will I ever be able to fully trust him again? I know he left because of his dad, but what I don’t understand is why he didn’t let me in. Why keep me at arm's length?
Then he brought me soup and a book I’ve been wanting, but the thing that pushed it over the edge was him spending his dayoff to cut a tree for me. I know my dad asked him to, but my dad didn’t ask him to make me soup. Everything’s getting more confusing.
Trish was right, I shouldn’t have gotten into bed with him. I knew better, or at least, I shouldn’t have ignored the signs. But I wanted to throw caution to the wind and have a dream that I have fantasized about for longer than I’d like to admit.
By the time I’m halfway through the kitchen, I’ve mixed my third batch of mortar when Trish barrels through the door.
“You aren’t going to believe this.”
I wipe the back of my forearm against my forehead and put my trowel down before spreading the fresh mixture. I know I have mortar all over my hands and in my hair, but she’s used to seeing me this way. Spandex shorts peeking out from under my baggy T-shirt are my favorite outfit for projects. “What?”
Her eyes scan my kitchen before landing back on me. “Wow. This is going to look amazing when you’re done. But damn, it’s rough right now.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, I know. Now, will you spit it out? I don’t have long before this hardens, and I have to toss it.” I point my thumb to the bucket next to me.
“Oh, right.” She shuffles on her feet as if she’s excited, she can’t stand still. “You know the promotion I’ve been wanting at Target?” She bounces on her toes.
A smile spreads across my face, and I jump up. “Not uh!” I squeal.
“Oh yes! You’re looking at the next Target store director, bitch!” Trish shimmies, dancing around with excitement.
I wrap my arms around her and squeeze, careful not to get any mortar on her. “I’m proud of you. No one deserves it more.” Trish has been working for Target for over eight years and has done about every job they offer. She’s one of the hardestworkers I know, and I couldn’t be more proud of her for pursuing her dreams. “We have to celebrate tonight.”
Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she grimaces. “That’s the thing.”
I purse my lips. “What?” We always celebrate our accomplishments. It’s not like we haven’t done this before.
“Well, Avery is taking me out, and we want to make it a group thing.”
Realization dawns on me. I’m going to have to see Clayton in order to celebrate with her. My stomach rolls at the thought of being around him. I fidget with the mortar on my fingernails.
“Listen, it’s fine if you don’t want to go. We can always celebrate another night.” She steps closer to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I was with Avery when I got the news, and he was excited for me. I couldn’t say no.”
I nod because I do understand where she’s coming from. “No, I get it.” I smile, hoping to ease her worry. This isn’t about me right now, and I want to be there for my friend. “Of course, I’ll be there.”
Her face lights up as she pulls me in for a hug. “You’re the best.”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll have a movie night another time, only the two of us, though.” I point at her, and she laughs.
