She shook her head no.
“Want me to just sit here and watch Brendan Fraser fight mummies with you?”
She shook her head yes.
There were about a thousand things I needed to do rather than watch this movie for the millionth time. Conversation would’ve been more productive.
Finally, as the music swelled and the credits started, she reached for the remote and turned off the television.
“Now you want to talk about it?”
She looked at me, her eyes finally dry but still red, as was the tip of her nose. I wanted to punch whoever had made her cry, and it was going to be awkward if that someone was me.
After a shuddering breath, she spoke, “This has been an awful day. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Whenever Aubrey saidI don’t want to talk about it, it meant she definitely wanted to talk about it. I waited.
“First, you got on my case. Then my boss was…himself. Then the photos for the calendar were ruined, and my boss yelled at me for a solid ten minutes—I timed it. Then I got a flat tire on the way home, and some asshole splashed me with muddy water while I was waiting for Triple A. When I got home, I saw I’d forgotten to pay one of my bills, and now I have a late fee. I tripped while reading said bill and scraped my knee on the sidewalk. To top it all off, Kevin was here so I had to tell him off while blood ran down my leg, and you know how I feel about blood. I wasn’t about to let him into the house.”
My heart rate increased at the mention of Kevin. He was the aforementioned loser ex. “But he’s gone?”
“And I told him not to come back.”
She’d also bandaged her knee, so that was taken care of.
“I’m sorry I added to your crappy day,” I said softly.
Her lips turned up slightly, threatening a smile. “You did get the ball rolling.”
“Yeah, it’s none of my business if you want to show off your candy cane underwear.”
Her eyes widened. “You could see the candy canes?”
I nodded.
She exhaled sharply. “I didn’t even want to have my picture taken like that, but I’m trying to prove that I can hold down a job. I’m so tired of being the loser slacker of the family.”
“You’re not the loser slacker of the family,” I said.
“Oh come on, Cole. You know you’ve thought it, too. What’s Aubrey done now? Why can’t she finish her degree? Why does she keep getting fired from jobs? Why is she going out with yet another loser? At least I provide plenty of gossip for the otherwise perfect Longfellow family.”
I swallowed hard. I had said some of those things, but to hear her say them now, I was pretty damn ashamed of myself. “Aubrey, you just…think outside the box.”
She arched an eyebrow and tilted her head to one side, indicting me with her eyes.
“And you’ve had some bad luck.”
“Really?”
I stood and began pacing. “Okay, fine. You have made some decisions I wouldn’t have made. There. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Yes, actually. But it was very sweet of you to reassure me first. Thank you.”
Her gratitude stopped me in my tracks. It might have been the most civil conversation we’d had in months. Probably the most civil conversation since back in high school when we both teamed up against Zach because he had the unfortunate opinion thatMamma Mia!wasn’t a good movie. Aubrey and I had sung “Waterloo” over and over again until he cried uncle.
I had no regrets.
“I think I’m going to bed. Maybe tomorrow will be better.”
