“You have any wisdom to share, I’m all for it.”
“You have to ask yourself, what do you want?” she said. “It’s plain as day how you feel. It’s written all over your face, every day those papers don’t come. I know that you said you both need time, but it’s not like you to leave things like this. You both deserve closure. Good or bad.”
He thought for a few long moments. So long that his mum took a seat at the kitchen table and waited. Mason knew he was stalling. As long as things were quiet on Xeni’s end, he didn’t want to risk the conversation that might end it all for good. He was afraid, but that was no way to live.
“I’ll call her,” he finally said.
“Good. I’ll take that tea now.” Mason put the water on, then checked the world clock on his phone. She was just starting her day. He swallowed his nerves and sent her a text.
Hey, love. When’s a good time to call?
He added a gif of Homer Simpson dialing a touch tone phone.
An hour later, she responded.
I’m free to have an uninhibited emotional
breakdown at four p.m. my time. Is that too late?
He responded with the gif of former American football player Shannon Sharpe saying, “That ain’t no problem.”
Ha! Talk then.
* * *
It had been cloudy and wet all week, but there was finally a break in the rain.
“Do you need moral support?” Sarah asked.
“Can you please put the call on speaker so I can hear everything?” Meegan asked.
“No. And fuck you, no.” Xeni’s hands were trembling as she reached in her purse. She couldn’t find her damn keys and she was supposed to talk to her husband on the phone in ten minutes. “I’m going to get in my car, drive to Trader Joe’s and take this call. Then I’m going to walk inside Trader Joe’s and buy a case of three-dollar wine. I may call both of you later and see if you want to work through the case with me.”
“You know I’m game. I’ll swing by Sweet Creams just in case and ask Shae to load me up,” Meegan said.
“Antonio is bugging me, so you can count me in,” Sarah added.
“Everything okay?” Xeni asked as her key magically appeared under her wallet.
“Yeah, he just wants to move in together and I don’t want to. We’ll figure it out.”
“Tell Antonio it’s fancy as hell to maintain separate residences. Okay, got my keys. Definitely come over tonight.”
“We will.”
Meegan and Sarah headed across the Whippoorwill parking lot as Xeni climbed in her car and prepared to meet her doom. Was she being dramatic as hell? Yes. She’d spent the last six months getting her life in order. She’d found a wonderful therapist. She’d moved. Helped her step-dad prepare for his retirement, argued with her mother about hers and made decisions about the future of her career. She’d tried yoga. She’d given up yoga. She’d even given herself a break and gotten an outstanding massage at Burke Williams. The only thing she hadn’t done and absolutely needed to do was get a divorce.
She knew her family was starting to worry. Okay, so she was still wearing her rings. They were just so pretty and they brought her a level of comfort she couldn’t explain. Her parents wanted her to get to grips with the fact that she was hanging on to a marriage to a man who lived eight thousand miles away and had no plans to ever see her again. She’d prayed on it. Done some light witchcraft. Done some intense witchcraft that she’d had to undo for fear that she’d accidentally started courting a demon. Cried a lot and ate most of her feelings. Finally, she’d decided to give them a year. Something about that felt right. If she couldn’t get up the courage to contact him and if he maintained radio silence in all the time, she’d have her answer. The lingering feelings that refused to go away would have to be bottled up and cast into the sea.
Apparently Mason had made up his mind a little sooner.
The rain started up again and traffic slowed to a crawl. No one in L.A. could drive in the rain. Xeni watched her dashboard clock, hoping by some miracle that Mason wouldn’t call her while she was trying to operate a vehicle. A few blocks later, though she could see the Trader Joe’s up ahead, she was still stuck. Her dash display suddenly lit up.
MASON...INCOMING CALL
“FUCK!” She pressed the phone icon on her steering wheel and prayed she didn’t throw up on herself. “Hey you,” her voice wobbled in the most embarrassing way.
“Hello, love. How are you?”
