I’ve dreamed about all the ways I could give Ross my two-week notice. I’ve imagined telling him off in a heated moment while “Brynn’s beauties” stood by in astonishment. I’ve pictured removing the prepubescent photo from the board, ripping it to shreds before his very eyes, and saying,‘I’m not part of the club anymore, buddy.’
But as the time draws near, as my resentment drowns in a sea of relationship bliss with Liam, I no longer feel the need to deliver the news with such sting. Moving on, I decide, will say everything that needs to be said. I will rise above the fray. I'll keep my chin up. I’ll keep it classy.
I'm about to meet Liam outside his office building for lunch, when I get a surprise call back from Loretta.
"Hey," she says in a muffled whisper.
My brow furrows. "Loretta? Is everything okay?"
"Yes, yes, it's fine. I just don't want Dr. Brynn to hear me. I snuck out of the office for minute to tell you that they have a terrible picture of you in the waiting room. It didn't seem right, so I thought I should let you know."
Immediately, my mind draws back to the horrible picture I plan on removing soon, but that’s not in the waiting room.
“Are you talking about that bad junior high picture of me in Ross’s office?"
When she doesn’t respond, I elaborate. “Bad perm, high bangs, braces, and a zit on my nose?”
"What? No,” Loretta says, sounding very confused now. “It’s a recent photo, in fact, very recent, from when you busted yourteeth at the singles campout. Mandy Wheaton told me about it. Sorry that happened, hon.”
“Oh, it’s uh, yeah. He’s got a photo of it? In the waiting room?” Sure, I’m just repeating her at this point, but none of it makes sense.
“He sure does—two of them, in fact, a before and after shot. And I hate to tell you, but they're not very flattering, and neither are the sentiments he posted along with them."
I gasp. "You’ve got to be kidding. Do you think you could snap a picture of it with your phone?"
"I already did,” she says proudly. “I’ll text it as soon as I hang up. I just wanted you to be prepared because Brenda noticed me looking at it, and she admitted that you hadn't seen it yet. She sounded concerned about your reaction.”
Maybe Brenda should havevoicedthat concern to Ross.
"Well," I say, "I appreciate you letting me know, Loretta. Now that I have a heads-up, I can…plan out a good response.”
“That-a-girl,” Loretta says proudly. “Oh, and Ashley?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m so glad you’re back with Liam Wheaton. I think you two are perfect for each other.”
I smile. “Thanks. I kind of think so, too.”
With Liam's offered assistance, along with the use of the color printer in his office, I come up with something that revenge-dreams are made of. Sure, it will only produce a splash of momentary embarrassment, but I don't need to give him anything more than that. We still have to co-parent, after all.
Still, this is the second time he’s purposefully tried to humiliate me with ugly photos, and now an embarrassing tale to go along with it? It’s time he got a little taste of his own medicine.
Folder in hand and smile on my face, I lean over and kiss Liam goodbye. “Thanks for your help, Loverboy Liam,” I say playfully.
He gives my behind a playful swat. "Go get him, Tiger."
And then I open the door of my new-to-me Audi TT, something I purchased just yesterday. It’s fast, gorgeous, and as good as new without the new-car price tag.
I slink behind the wheel like Cat Woman, so happy I want to purr. The car is everything I wanted. The cool charcoal color, the comfortable leather seats, and even the luxurious new-car smell, courtesy of the air freshener.
Liam leans in for one last kiss, gingerly closes the door, and waves through the window affectionately.
Now I’mreallypurring. Man, I am one lucky woman. I blow him a kiss and tear off with an impressive squeal of tires.
The bulletin Loretta sent is even more horrifying than I imagined. The photographs are terrible. The before pic, as you can imagine, is not pretty. But even the after pic is bad. The odd angle makes my jaw look three times its natural size. My eyes aren’t exactly open, but they’re not fully closed, and since a small corner of my eyes catches the flash, I look possessed. Hideous isn’t a strong enough word.
And then comes Ross’s warning:
