“She’ll want to know whether we’ve reunited,” I said to distract her.
Murphy twisted her hands together, looking desperate to run away. “Reunited? We were never together.”
“It’s no secret I liked you, Murph. Come on, you’re smarter than that. We’re all grown up now, but my mom still thinks of me as the baby. She’s going to press deep, and she isn’t going to give up until she gets the answers she’s searching for, like a bloodhound chasing a scent.”
Finally addressing the elephant in the room—or the field or whatever—I left it out there. It was high time we discussed the unrequited crush I had on Murphy all those years ago, and her complete and total rejection of me. I had a hard time believing she was the only one who didn’t know my feelings for her ran deeper than as friends.
Looking up at the sky as a dark rain cloud passed over, Murphy was quiet, deep in thought, looking like my never-ending crush was news to her. “I don’t have to go meet your mom. In fact, I need to get back to Hunnie before the rain comes. I really need that internship. You know, I can’t work in a coffee place forever. There’s nothing wrong with it, though. It’s a good place, run by great people, and I actually like it, but I have to do something with my degree, you know?”
My hand grabbed hold of her shoulder of its own volition. “Why? Why do you need all that? Why do you act all clueless, like there isn’t something bigger going on here? Are you truly okay? Something’s going on with you, and I’m here if you need me.”
Questions and declarations rolled off my tongue before I could stop myself. It was just like old times, my true feelings ignored or forgotten, and I was back to wanting to care for Murphy.
“Like you said,” she said as she placed her small palm on my shoulder, mimicking my move, “we’re all grown up now. I’m a grown woman, Ben. I know we were friends, and maybe you wanted more for us back then. Maybe I did too, but it was more than I could give. More than I was allowed to give.”
“According to who?” I demanded, challenging her.
“I don’t even know. My parents, my so-called friends, all the social expectations I’d been raised to abide by. But it doesn’t matter now because I’ve been taking care of myself for a while. Maybe I’m still trying to figure life out, but I will.”
“You don’t have to be that way. I can help you. We are old friends, like you said.”
It wasn’t the time to delve into her bullshit about society’s expectations. Clearly, she was on some sort of soul-searching mission, and I tried not to feel happy to have found myself a part of it. But I was.
Murphy shook her head. “You don’t owe me that. You helped me enough at Pressman, and I was never as grateful as I should have been. Look, I get it. I didn’t reciprocate when it came to anything with you, and for that I’m sorry.” The wind picked up, lifting strands of her coppery hair. “Go see your mom. I’m going to talk to Hunnie. See you at the Bean.”
The heat of her hand on my shoulder, singeing my skin through my shirt, quickly faded as she turned and walked away, leaving me confused.
With rain coming quickly, I didn’t have time to dwell on what Murphy’s end game was. Or mine. I had enough to deal with when it came to work, Vermont, my family, and my life. Murphy was definitely a complication I didn’t need right now.
As I hurried over to my family’s booth, I decided to quickly give my mom her migraine medicine and get out of there before the real storm—the one that Murphy’s presence here seemed to put into motion—rolled in.
* * *
Thankfully, my mom was slammed with customers at her booth and didn’t have time to draw me into a long chat. Relief swept over me at Murphy bowing out of meeting my mom. If she hadn’t, Mom would have dug in, sinking her teeth into this discovery.
Oh, you’re Murphy, the girl he pined over every single summer and winter break.
I wasn’t sure what came over me to even consider taking Murphy to our booth. That’s what she did to me—she made me forget all common sense.
My dad told me when I left for school,“Get a good education, son. Do something with it. Be better than me, but don’t become one of them. The rich people. They may have money and all the fancy things, but they don’t have happiness. Watch and you’ll see.”
When I first arrived at Pressman, I thought he was wrong, but a few months in, I noticed most of my classmates were indeed not happy, no matter how much credit they had on their American Express card. I could barely afford a hamburger and fries with a shake on the rare occasion Murphy and I sneaked out together, but when I thought about my family, I smiled. Thinking of home, and the good times we had, always made me long to ditch Pressman, go back home, and just be happy.
Then again, I wouldn’t be where I was today had it not been for Pressman.
Which was why I felt so compelled to help Branson. My nephew didn’t have a dad to advise him or show him shit. Sometimes I worried he wasn’t happy or content. Maybe he was holding all his true feelings inside?
These were the type of thoughts that plagued me, which was why when my mom was busy, I decided to head over to Colebury and surprise him. Maybe he’d want to come spend the night with me, order in a pizza and watch baseball together.
Deep in thought as I drove, I almost missed the compact hunk-of-junk car parked at the curb in front of a duplex with a woman pacing next to it. Who the hell drove something like that in Vermont?
“Shit,” I mumbled, unable to drive by, the doctor inside me needing to make sure everyone was okay.
Pulling up in front of the older Toyota coupe, I shook my head. It was hardly the kind of car anyone would want during a Vermont rainstorm like this one, let alone in the winter.
I jumped out of my Jeep into the rain and was approaching the woman when I registered the flash of red hair.Murphy?
She hadn’t even noticed my car pulling up. She continued to pace, occasionally stomping her foot as she muttered to herself. I couldn’t imagine what could be that bad or distracting.
