She and Matt were spending the long Labor Day weekend on Cape Cod, at the same inn where they were married three months ago. I kept telling them I didn’t want to crash their second honeymoon, but I was nowhere near ready to return to the scene of my wedding weekend crimes.
“Do you not find it strange that you’re trying to bring me along for a romantic getaway?” I glanced around and lowered my voice. “Tell me: what’s wrong? Are you bored with each other? Is the spark already dying? Is married sex that bad?”
Lauren swatted me as she doubled over laughing, and my drink splashed down the front of my dress. “No!” she said. “On all counts.”
“Then why would you want me hanging out with you? Do you really want me barging in, in the middle of your sexytimes, asking if you want to go biking or paddle boarding or some outdoorsy shit like that? Or snuggling up between the two of you to watch movies and hog the popcorn?”
Lauren sipped her drink and tucked her hair behind her ears, nodding to herself. “Honest?”
I gulped. Nothing preceded by an offer of honesty was ever good. “Always.”
“It seems like I haven’t seen you all summer,” she said. “This is the first time we’ve talked, just you and me since…since the wedding. You only dodge people when you’re trying to figure something out by yourself. But I miss you. I’m worried about you.”
I waved her off. I hadn’t been avoiding her. Not completely. “There’s no need to worry about me—”
“Don’t even start,” Lauren said, laughing. “But you spend enough time taking care of everyone else that you spend no time taking care of yourself.”
“I just…” My voice trailed off while I skimmed through my appointments for the rest of the week.
Tomorrow was packed but Friday was wide open after visiting some properties in the morning.Good.I needed that time to catch up on budgeting for Walsh Associates’ next round of investment purchases, and I owed wedding gifts to a handful of business acquaintances and once-upon-a-time friends. Everyone had some of those: people you used to be tight with, but now only saw via social media and the occasional get-together.
“I’m not going to force you to talk to me,” Lauren said. “But I know you have your hands full at the office. I also know that sorting through your mom’s things is emotionally exhausting and super stressful—”
Yesyesyes. I can feel the weight of it on my shoulders and in my heart, and I am doing everything in my power to keep it together.
“—and you insist on doing it by yourself.”
Because I can’t let anyone else do it. I have to own this and I have to do it my way.
“And I know Sam has been a whiny bitch for months.”
That whiny bitch is headed for an epic breakdown if he doesn’t start taking care of himself.
“You know I think taking a break from online dating is really positive, because hello—weirdos—but the dry spell must be rough. So I worry about you.”
It was a miracle that I didn’t choke on my margarita. When it came to Lauren, I rarely censored the details of my love life but I’d been selective recently. I didn’t want the “Hey, I fucked your brother” bomb slipping out between stories about the guy who kept at least eighty Glo-Worm dolls in his bedroom or the guy who insisted on wearing a wool beanie cap during sex. In the summer.
I continued scrolling through my emails, hoping this line of questioning would be replaced by anything else. I hated being the object of concern. I was the one who did the worrying and checking on people. If someone noticed that I was off, even my best friend, I wasn’t doing enough to keep it together. I didn’t know how to be the person others worried about, and I rarely knew what to do with their concern.
“What are we celebrating? Tomorrow night?” I asked, changing the subject while shooting a quick response to Tom’s messages.
“Lots of things,” Lauren said. She shook her head at me, annoyed that I was dodging her questions. No, she never forced anyone to talk to her, but she had that severe teacher stare down hard. She could force a mime to break character with that stare. “We’re celebrating eating outside on warm summer evenings, and sangria, and long weekends.” She paused while the server refilled her glass. “Oh, and Will’s in town.”
This time, I did choke.
I blamed it on the stiff tequila and slapped away Lauren’s hands when she rubbed my back like a colicky infant. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” I said and knocked back the rest of my drink. “Didn’t you say he was deployed?”
I was going for vague curiosity. I didn’t want to know what was happening in Will’s life; I was only asking because she brought it up and I was polite like that.
Even though he was an arrogant asshole.
She hummed and held up a finger for me to wait while she sent a text to Matt. “Yeah, a three-month tour.MostSEAL Team guys go through cycles of deployment, training ops, and leave. Will isn’t most team guys. There’s always another mission, another training op, another promotion. He can’t get enough of it. Just like my dad.”
Since I was working damn hard at my vague curiosity, I paged through Instagram for a minute. It was the only thing I could do to keep from firing off fifteen questions about Will.
“You must be excited to see him. Will, that is.” I glanced over at Lauren. “How long is he in town?”
“Um, I think he’s planning to head out on Friday. He said something about surfing somewhere.”
