I widen my eyes at Lucy, and she laughs. “That’s Cash for ya. He handles the club's accounting and investments. He's our genius hermit who basically lives in his office.”
“Have you met everyone?” Lucy asks me after Dana leaves.
I look around the yard. “I think so, everyone but her,” I say as I gesture towards a nicely dressed blonde talking to Doc.
“Let’s go,” Lucy smiles. “Paging doctor Yoda,” she tells the woman as we approach, and they both laugh.
“Oh, Lucy, don’t ruin my day off,” the blonde says before extending her hand. “Hi, I’m Emily, but the Chasers call me Yoda.”
“Nice to meet you, Emily,” I say, ignoring the stab of pain that hearing my mom’s name still causes in my chest.
“We call her Yoda because she’s a shrink,” Lucy tells me conspiratorially.
“Emily just finished her residency and accepted a permanent position at the psychiatric unit of the same hospital that I work at,” Doc explains.
“Miguel is a nephrologist,” Lucy explains.
I don’t let on that I don’t know what that means. I’m too busy being self-conscious that this woman, who is barely older than I am, has completed medical school and residency and is now a gorgeous, well-dressed blonde doctor.
I wipe my palms against DJ’s shirt.
I pray to God that no one asks about my education or employment history, so I can avoid uttering the phrases:
between jobs
lunch lady
barely got through high school
Suddenly, it feels like the room is spinning around me.
This party is filled with all these accomplished, interesting people with cool jobs, amicable relationships with their exes, deep friendship bonds, and here I am, the outsider, apoor, unemployed, single mother, reliant on charity to find employment and a place to live.
Aimless.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why did I move here with a man I barely know? Why do I always make these big, stupid, impulsive decisions whenever tragic things happen?
As if sensing that I’m about to lose it, Hawk comes over and announces, “Marissa hasn’t eaten yet. Let her process all the names and info you and Shroomie have thrown at her.”
People exchange amused looks and, in my emotionally raw state, it rubs me the wrong way. It feels like they’re laughing at me.
I’m still beating myself up when we arrive at the food table. I put DJ back in his stroller so I can make myself a plate, and that’s when I see it.
Tank reaches for the box with my cake in it while talking to Squid, who stops the motion with his hand and shakes his head while whispering in Tank’s ear. Tank then moves to another dessert.
My stomach feels like someone dropped a boulder inside it. I try taking several deep breaths, but nothing changes. That deep, heavy, sinking feeling isn’t going anywhere. Then, the telltale burning in my nose and eyes starts.
I can’t take it any longer. I rush back into the building, jostling poor DJ like a bag of potatoes. By the time I reach the family room, I’m blind with tears. I plop down on one of the gray couches and bury my face in my hands to muffle the sobs.
I soon hear steps, but I refuse to look up. A hand squeezes my shoulder as I feel the couch cushions shift from the added weight. Hawk’s perfume betrays him.
“Wanna tell me what just happened out there?”
His kind, familiar voice makes me blubber even harder while he patiently rubs my back up and down, up and down. Several minutes pass before I calm down enough to put my hands down, after wiping my nose on my sleeve.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” I say, and Hawk looks like I stabbed him. “I feel like I’m intruding, like no one wants me here. I knew it would be like this again. I don’t know why I stupidly hoped-” A sob prevents me from finishing that thought.
“Did someone say something to make you think that?” He asks darkly.
