“Work. He got a new job at the gas station downtown. Night shifts.”
I remained silent, though the thought still came—Iwonder how long he’ll keep it.
I’d learned to keep comments like that to myself, however. Mari didn’t need reminding; she already knew. But knowing and admitting were two entirely different animals. She’d spent such a long time making excuses for him that it became secondnature, a reflex as automatic as breathing. She deserved better than that man—always had. But try telling her that…
“But enough about me. What’s going on with you? It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
I tried not to wince. In my defense, my schedule had been brutal these past few weeks.
“Sorry. Work’s been a real bitch lately.”
“And what about your personal life?” Mari asked.
“What about it?”
“Any news, I mean,” she said, not even a little bit subtle.
Each time, it was the same story with her. But I couldn’t get too annoyed, since I knew that it came from a good place. She was only trying to look out for me, concerned that I didn’t have a life outside of work—which, to be fair, I didn’t.
Still, that didn’t mean that I liked hearing about it every time I came over. “Nope, no news.”
Mari shook her head, and I could see the lecture forming behind her eyes. “You should really try to get out more, meet some new people, make some friends. Do you even remember the last time you went out on a date?”
As I said, it was the same old story.
“I went out with my coworker last week,” I argued, but Mari didn’t seem to buy it.
“Is ‘went out’ another way of saying you had a one-night stand?”
Damn her for knowing me so well. I sighed. “What do you want me to say, Mari? I just don’t have the time.”
“You don’t want to make the time, you mean. That’s the real problem. Tell me, why couldn’t you have gone out on a nice date with that coworker of yours, instead?”
“It’s Hayes,” I said, as if that explained everything.
Mari made a thoughtful sound. “You’ve mentioned him to me before, haven’t you?”
Had I?
Thankfully, before I could dig myself deeper into a conversation I wanted no part of, I realized something. The house had gone quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that meant a small child was definitely up to something.
“You know, it’s been a while since I’ve seen Ella. Is she still in her room?”
Mari looked up from where she was crouched by the toy bin, a plastic tiara dangling from her fingers. “Oh, shit,” she said, dropping the toy like it was on fire as she made a beeline straight for her daughter’s bedroom.
All I could do was shake my head.
Motherhood really changed a person, didn’t it? How was this the same girl who once showed up to our American Literature class wearing two completely different shoes? Or the same woman who used to pregame with straight vodka and danced on top of tables till dawn?
Now she had a drawer full of matching hair bows, a Pinterest account devoted to creative lunchbox ideas, and a tiny human who looked at her like she’d personally hung the moon.
Lucky her. Ella was awesome.
Mari’s words continued to echo in my head, though, refusing to be dismissed. They circled like vultures, picking at the defenses I’d so carefully constructed.
Maybe she was right. Maybe I was being ridiculous, sabotaging something before it even had a chance to turn into something real. Hayes wasn’t like the others. He understood the job, the odd hours, the darkness that we waded through daily. He didn’t expect me to be softer, gentler, more digestible.He took me as I was—sharp edges and all.
I took out my phone before I could talk myself out of it. My thumb hovered over his contact for a moment, and then I was typing, the words appearing on the screen faster than my doubts could catch up.
