“Come in,” I yell.
Riley barrels through the door and, with Jenn’s help, strolls into my office carrying a baby approximately two years old in one arm and a plastic bag in the other. She plops the bag in front of me, and the smell of my favorite blackened salmon makes my mouth water.
I groan in delight. “God, I love you. Thank you.” She flashes me a weak smile and sets the plastic fork on the desk. Wasting no time, I pour the Caesar dressing on top of the salad, close the lid, and shake the container to mix everything evenly. Caroline taught me that trick. She told me learned it from a friend—she probably lied about that too. When a pang of sadness hits my chest, I push the thought of her far away.
After shoveling three bites into my mouth, I don’t experience the fulfillment I usually get from my favorite salad, but I’m starting to feel like myself again. Remembering that I’m not alone, I crinkle my eyebrows together at the drooling baby in Riley’s arms. Who is that? She doesn’t seem pleased to see me either.
I attempt to break the growing tension with a joke. “Don’t tell me you and Hazel made me an aunt.”
It doesn’t land. She boosts the child up her hip. “This is my nephew, Ollie. My brother is in town from Ohio.” She tilts her head and gives me a look that tells me I’m in trouble. “We had an entire discussion on Monday about you meeting us for lunch.” Her brows scrunch together at my confusion. “Meet at the restaurant at 11 a.m. Thursday…three hours ago?
My eyes go wide. “Shit—I mean shoot.”
“I called you six times.”
I reach for my phone, wondering why it didn’t ring, then I remember it's buried in my bag somewhere on silent mode. “I don’t even know what day it is.”
“Thursday,” she repeats.
“Right. Sorry.” I grab the bottle of juice and twist it open, take a whiff, and recant my decision. Maybe the drink has been inside my desk longer than two months. I’ve lost track of time at this point. I push it to the side. “I’ve been discombobulated with work. Can I make it up to you?”
Directing my attention back to my laptop, I scroll through my calendar. “I have a free lunch hour next Wednesday before I fly to Maryland for a demo.” I’ll actually create the calendar reminder this time.
“Don’t worry about me. Try eating some real food.”
Luckily for me, she never stays mad for long. As if reading my mind, she flashes a grin, coos at the little one, and changes her voice to baby talk. “Ollie, wouldn’t it be fun to see Auntie Basil bite the cis men’s heads off because she’s Miss Grumpy Pants when she’s hungry?” The baby giggles and paws at her scrunched face. “I’d love that sight too.”
“I do eat real food.”
“Then want to explain what that is?”
I follow her gaze to my trash can full of empty wrappers.
“I’m worried about you.” She slowly lowers into the chair across from me, concern written on her face. ”Something is definitely up if you’ve resorted to eating this amount of processed carbs. You’ve also been pretty distracted lately. Do you remember the movie from last night?”
I think for a second. Honestly, not really. “I was present…but wasn’t paying much attention.”
My mind has been consumed with what everyone else wants. To be fair, it’s difficult to focus on anything at home with Riley and Hazel sucking face every ten minutes. Not to mention their frequent date nights, where they bring a whole new meaning to the words “Sleepless in Seattle.”
Still, Riley has a point. I sigh in defeat and push my bitterness at my third-wheel status away. I lean back in my chair and cross one leg over the other. “Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life?”
“Depends on if you want to be a clone of your mother, who makes workaholism look like an impressive skill,oryou can go back to being the badass we know and love. Basil Version 2.0.”
“She’s an emotional brick wall sometimes, but she’s just trying to do her best.”
“A parent's best isn’t always enough.” She shrugs. “And that’s okay. That’s my conclusion, anyway. It’s not fair, but they’re human too.”
“Basil Version 2.0 it is.” Not knowing where to start, I massage my temples with my fingers. “No-judgment zone?”
“Of course.” Riley confirms our code for confession time. When she sees me struggling to continue, she speaks up. “Still have your island goddess on the brain?”
A weak chuckle escapes. I nod. “And I don’t know who I am anymore.” I motion to my fancy office, the sleek, minimal white decorations and the skyline. “I thought this is what I wanted, but now I’m not so sure. I made amends with my mother and sacrificed my happiness, yetagain. What’s wrong with me?”
She meets my eyes. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve been through a lot, and it's only been a handful of months since the wedding.”
I nod again and sulk my gaze toward my desk. My mind travels back to the last positive image of Caroline and me together. We were cuddling in bed. For a moment, our eyes held, and I could sense she wanted to tell me something. The truth? I’ll never know, because instead, she pressed her lips into my neck before compelling my hands where she wanted them. I miss her warmth.
Memories of my mother showing up, and the arguments, come crashing in. “I was so livid that I told Caroline she meant nothing to me.” The hurt in her eyes remains carved in my mind. “It’s the furthest thing from the truth. I know lying because my mother paid her doesn’t excuse everything, but I—I fell in love with her, Riley. The real thing. I get that love’s not enough though. But now I’m just empty inside.”
