I think even a few months ago, I would have been relieved to see her trying to respond to me, making as little effort as typing out a sentence, even if it were to break bad news. I can’t bring myself to feel guilty that I’d be shamelessly thrilled if my mom remembered to invite me to someone’s funeral.
She’s never been a person to run to and just hold my hand while I cry out everything that’s been weighing on my mind. The prospect of calling her back is as weighty as anything else I’ve felt these last few days, getting tangled in my feelings about Shawn and his family.
But right now, her attention isn’t what I want. Maybe some deeply buried part of myself wants to feel like I’m not alone in all this, that I could just hand over the bulk of my emotional burdens to someone else, or just have someone whose lap I could cry into for a while.
But it’s not my mom, and it never will be. I’m just going to have to handle this on my own.
I switch to scrolling through my email app, taking a few more moments to myself before I head back in. A couple old clients are having events I could cater, one said she would recommend me to a friend that had a more long-term job open.
And after Shawn rejected me last night, I’m grateful for a bit of hope for life after Mystic Falls.
I feel dirty. I shouldn’t have come onto Shawn. I don’t know what I was thinking, trying to hook up with him. But I knew he could make me feel good. I just didn’t think he wouldn’t want to.
I mean, I guess I should have been ready for that. I did leave him; why would he want anything to do with me? Just because we’re back in the same place doesn’t mean we have any kind of want or need for each other again.
I mean, maybe I hadn’t been thinking that because Deanna has liked me so much these past few years, and his brothers, that they’d be happy to see us together, that things could easily pick up the way we left things off. It would be like they’d never refused to meet me, heartbreak simply forgotten. But I hadn’t been thinking or wanting that. Because that’s dangerous hopeful thinking, and I can’t allow that.
I don’t want to go down this line of thinking more than the million times I’ve already been through it.
He could’ve at least decided he didn’t want to take me up on my offer before he started touching me. Even his rejection isn’t enough to throw cold water on my libido, it seems. I guess that’s a win for therapy.
For maybe the hundredth time today, I think about texting Shawn. Not that I even have his number. I don’t think I could get it from Aiden or Laura without some pretty judgmental looks, either.
The brewery’s back door swings open abruptly, and some stupid part of me hopes it’s going to be him, that we can have a private word about what happened.
But it’s Deanna. “Oh, Elise. Good morning.”
She looks just as surprised to see me out here, standing on the little platform of the loading bay. People really only hang out here on their smoke breaks.
“Sorry, I was just stepping out for a second,” I start to say, when she cuts me off with an apology.
“I’m sorry if dinner was a bit awkward last night.”
Deanna looks me squarely in the eye as she says that. It doesn’t sound deeply heartfelt, but there’s sympathy in her voice.
It’s honestly caught me so off guard all I can do is stare back at her. This is not at all what I expected, especially after how she acted last night. She takes that moment and puts a gentle hand on my arm. She wears a solemn expression.
“Elise, I value our relationship. You’ve been wonderful to work with, and pleasant company outside of work.” She glances away towards the woods on the hill, where the Hayes Housestands, just on the other side of it. She chews her lip a moment. “So, I hope you understand how much I value you, when I say you shouldn’t spend too much time with Shawn.”
I frown. My heart is pounding in my chest. I have to look away. My hands are automatically tight fists at my side, and I try not to overtly show that I’ve been dreading this.
“I . . . um, uh,” is about all I can manage to say.
Not exactly the kind of confident dressing-down speech I’d rehearsed and tweaked in my head for so many years. It’s a lot harder to summon those feelings of indignance at being dismissed when she just said she values me.
I don’t know how to respond, except to turn a little away from her.
She takes her hand off my arm, but hovers nearby. “Did he tell you he was married?”
I swallow. This conversation might not be what I was afraid it was, but I’m not sure where it’s leading. She seriously thinks we’re still married, after all these years? Did he never tell his mom we got divorced?
“I mean,” I stammer, not really sure what I mean. What do I even say? Yeah, I’m well aware he was? Or, no, actually to correct you Deanna, boss, I’m pretty damn sure he’s as divorced as I am.
“I saw him take his ring off the other day, before he went to talk to you,” she sighs, a faded disappointment crossing her features. She glances at me, misunderstanding my shocked expression, and giving my hand a sympathetic pat. “And I’m sorry you had to learn the way you did, last night.”
“He, um...I know about the falling out you two had. That he didn’t come home for years.”
“He’s filled you in on that much, then?” Deanna sighs, rolling her neck as she digs her hands in her pockets. It’s a movement that is so quintessentially Shawn, it’s actually jarring to watch. I don’t know how I never noticed it before.
