CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The light blue fabric of my brother’s couch is soft and comfortable as I stretch out on it. I need to enjoy this now because with a new baby on the way, I worry what will be on this piece of furniture when dirty diapers enter into the equation. My white plain t-shirt inches up and I stuff it into my fleece pajama pants.
I’ve been forced to leave work a little earlier each day to avoid the black Escalade sitting out front. I can’t be certain it’s there for me since I haven't seen Jake in the driver’s seat, but I don’t want to take my chances. At ten after five, I didn’t expect Rebecca or Ben to be home already, but Rebecca met me at the door when I walked in a few minutes ago.
She’s making noise in the kitchen, but besides the quick hello as I passed coming through the front door, we haven’t spoken. Their condo is bright with all the windows and open floor plan between the kitchen and living room, but the space feels heavy with my mood. I bring down the atmosphere wherever I am.
“Are you going to change out of those pants any time soon?” Rebecca asks her question from her perch in the kitchen, but doesn’t turn to face me even after I peek my head above the couch. Maybe she thinks if she pretends her question was simply an offhanded remark, my answer will be truthful.
It works. Kind of. “I dressed for work today.”
She hesitates but stops cutting whatever vegetable she has on the counter in front of her. “True, but then you’ve come directly here and changed into them every day this week. Maybe we should wash them?”
Oh no, I can’t wash them. They don’t carry Finn’s smell, but I’m pretty sure he’s touched them. I can’t wash the possibility away. Of course, I can’t admit my crazy thoughts to her either.
“They’re comfortable,” I answer with a bland tone. It’s semi-truthful.
I pick a piece of invisible lint from the long white fleece pants with the San Francisco logo in bright orange. Monday I didn’t feel up to going out to lunch. It had nothing to do with Finn and Britney getting back together. It was simply that nothing sounded good. At least it’s what I told myself. I raided the break room vending machine and had a candy smorgasbord with Amanda. For a new friend, she’s been supportive during both of mine and Marissa’s recent boy situations.
When I returned to my desk, there was a white box with bright orange ribbon sitting on top of my keyboard. Kind of hard to miss. I almost didn’t open it, but an hour later curiosity got the best of me. Inside were the pants I’m wearing now and a note with a simple "I’m sorry” in Finn’s messy scrawl.
Sorry? He’s sorry, but for what? Lying about the money? Getting back with Britney within hours of our breakup? Having a penis? Being a dumbass? I can’t decide and he hasn’t provided any additional explanations.
All this staring at my pants reminds me of the monstrosities in my purse and I reach for the newest box. “Hey, Rebecca,” I draw her attention back to our abandoned conversation, “you wear earrings right?”
At my question she lifts her head, blonde hair spilling from the hair clip she’d tied it back with and squints at me. “Yes, I suppose.” Her words are measured and deliberate.
I steal a last glance at the sparkly princess cut stud earrings. Each must be at least a carat. The snap of the box as I close it echoes off the walls. I stand and walk them to her marble kitchen island.
“Here, for you.” I slide them on the white counter without taking my eye off the box.
Rebecca sighs. “Aspen.” She doesn’t move to grab the light blue box. “Is this today’s gift from Finn?”
“Yes, and if he knew me at all he’d know I’m not flashy. I don’t want his money.”
“But, you want his pants?” She runs her eyes over my outfit in an over exaggerated move.
“Yes. They’re different.” The pants were thoughtful. Finn always joked he loved it when I wore sweats around him. He’d told me more than a few times I needed a pair from as he said, “a good team.” Now I have the pants but not Finn. It’s a twisted and sick world.
I also kept the five Cahabón chocolate bars from Wednesday’s gift box. I don’t want the reminder of our first date to the chocolate factory, but the bars are good and I can eat the evidence. Amanda was the recipient of a new iPad on Tuesday. I didn't want it, but someone should get to enjoy it. Each gift had a simple “I’m sorry” note with slight variations on the sentiments. "I’m so sorry” or “I’m very sorry,” but no other explanations.
“At least the flowers are beautiful.” Rebecca moves the clear crystal vase to the sink and adds more water from the faucet.
I don’t respond at first. They’re another reminder of what I’ve lost. I didn’t want to bring the flowers home, but I’ve run out of places and people to give them to at work. The deliveries happen twice a day and I run around passing them on to co-workers. Our office front desk, the break room, and Amanda’s cubical all carry a tropical getaway scent. Our boss finally complained. Apparently, his allergies couldn’t handle anymore pollen in the air. I rolled my eyes behind his back but brought the last delivery from today home with me.
“The flowers are like our relationship. Pretty at first, but then they wilt and die before someone eventually tosses them in the trash without a second thought.” I move and sit on a tall pine stool in her kitchen and lean my upper body on the smooth counter.
“Well, that’s not melodramatic or anything.” Rebecca rolls her eyes at me as she puts the vase back on the counter in a better place than where I stuck it on my way in.
“You know you can stay here for as long as you need, Aspen. I’m just curious why you won’t take Finn back if he’s obviously sorry.”
It’s the same question everyone has asked me over the past four days I’ve been in hiding with Ben and Rebecca.
“It’s not that simple, Rebecca. Finn ran right back to his ex within hours of us breaking up. He couldn’t have been too upset. He's apologized, but he hasn’t said he wants me back. He hasn’t even attempted to call me since Monday once he figured out I wouldn’t answer. There hasn’t been a single text or email. I think this is his way of trying to alleviate his guilt over picking Britney. Buy me off so he thinks I get something from the relationship.”
“I realize I don’t know him well, but that doesn’t sound like Finn. You should at least keep whatever is in this box.” She pushes the blue package closer to my side of the kitchen island, but I don’t make a move to pick it up.
