Hi! Welcome back to Chapter Two of Someone Borrowed, Someone Blue. If you haven’t read the first chapter I strongly suggest you do so before venturing into this piece as you’ve missed quite a bit. If you read the first chapter already and are back for more THANK YOU VERY MUCH! You are quite appreciated. Please vote/leave a comment if you feel so inclined.
As mentioned before Chapter One this is a sloooooow burn and the sexytimes don’t really show up in this one yet, so if you’re looking for heat I don’t want to mislead you. Is it coming? Hell, yes. Is it in this chapter? Hell, no. I’d like to think it’s a good read anyway but I’m hella biased. ::shrug::
Please enjoy the further adventures of Tish and Ted. Chapter Three won’t be posted quite as quickly as this one but I’ll do my best to make it worth it. Thanks!
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“WOO WOOO! The ‘Have Fun at a Wedding Filled With Horrible People’ Express is HERE! ALL ABOARD!”
I rubbed at my brow as Tish leaned against the front of her SUV, some sort of dark silver Lexus electric vehicle. Instead of opening the truck’s door, I made a gesture of apology to one of my neighbors who had paused in the walking of his dog across the street to take in Tish’s proclamation.
She noticed and turned to give him a cheery wave as well. “Hi! I’m Tish and the people who are going to be there are truly the worst! Be happy you don’t have to go!”
He gave her a deer-in-the-headlights look, sparing a moment to flick a glance in my direction. Tish shook her head, her hair concealed in some sort of bright red wrap, and pointed at the dog. “Cute! Wheaten Terrier, right? I hear they are the BEST, is that true?”
I rolled my eyes at her sales technique kicking in but my neighbor lit up like a kid on Xmas morning at the opportunity to expound on indeed how wonderful his dog was, and by the time I’d tossed my bag into the back of the truck and hung up my suit – I’d been assured it wasn’t a black tie affair – the two of them were babbling about being hypoallergenic and the best kind of kibble. A few more minutes and she’d have him inviting her over for dinner, and she didn’t even have a dog of her own.
“Marty, I have LOVED meeting you and your amazing buddy Chester but Ted and I need to get on the road because it’s THREE HOURS to get to the terrible wedding, can you believe that?” She shook her head and unleashed her megawattage smile. “I look forward to seeing you and Chester again. For now enjoy the rest of your walk but, hey, who’s walking who, right?”
Marty – I think I knew that was his name before all this – laughed with genuine pleasure as we climbed into Tish’s car, while I wondered if we had traveled to the 24th Century. I glanced around at the various screens, lights, and controls, somewhat overwhelmed. “Does this thing have pre-made cocktails or do I have to mix them myself at the wet bar?”
She chuckled as we pulled away. “The robot bartender gets installed next week. Are you excited about this?”
“Am I excited about the wedding you just told someone else was going to be filled with hot garbage? No.”
“Lamentable, but perhaps that’s my fault. I’m not upselling the positives.”
I furrowed my brow. “And those are?”
Tish gave me a hurt look. “Me, you big dope. You get to attend this mucus ball of a wedding with *me* and what could be better than that?”
“Okay, sorry. That’s a fair point. But in my defense you’ve been talking more about the bad than the good.”
“Given that the ‘good’ is me I assumed it was understood by all involved, but it’s possible I underestimated your comprehension of just how glorious I am.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “That’s true. You are indeed a good time.”
“Oh, you have *no* idea, my friend.” She stopped at a red light, fingers tapping the steering wheel. “You know what? I’m going to make you a bet – this is going to be one of the best weekends of your entire life. And I’m saying so knowing that the first part of it was spent in a hospital getting your head sewed back together.”
I managed to stop myself from touching my bandage yet again. “That’s a bold claim, Tish. What are you willing to put on the line?”
“Hmm.” She pursed her lips as the light changed to green and we started moving. “Oh! I have a good one! If you somehow don’t walk away from this weekend with me doing everything possible to secure even MORE weekends with me I will take you to dinner, anywhere you want.”
“Uhm.” I held up a finger while struggling to keep a straight face. “If I have a bad time with you my reward is… spending more time with you?”
“If I’m forced to spill your blood due to your impudence I’m making you pay for the detailing to clean it up. Listen to me – dinner, anywhere you want. You want a burger in Seattle, let’s go. Shrimp cocktail on the beach in Key West? Pick a night. McDonalds in Paris? Weird, but yours for the asking.”
I tilted my head, considering. “That’s a pretty cool offer, I must admit. Other shoe time – what am I betting?”
“Oh, yours is easy.” She waved a hand adorned with blue, glittery nails, the color a match for what I’d dreamed about on her lips the night before. Spooky! “If you do have an amazing time – which you will – you have to give your finished manuscripts to an agent. Oh, and what you’ve written for that series, too.”
I sighed, vexed. “We’ve been over this before, Tish. They’re not ready yet.”
“I strongly disagree. And in doing so, allow me to briefly change the subject.” She gestured around the cabin. “Do you know what I call this thing?”
“The car?” The dash looked like the electronics section of a Best Buy. “USS Enterprise?”
“The aircraft carrier?”
“No, the spaceship, from Star Trek. Captain Kirk, Doctor-” I stopped as I realized she was fighting to keep down laughter. “This is already the worst weekend ever,” I said, struggling to keep a grin off my face.
“Yeah, this might actually be the high point.”
“Really?”
“Hell, no. I mean, I hope not. Anyway, it’s not ‘Enterprise.'”
“Okay. Uhm, Henrietta?”
Tish came to a halt at a stop sign and favored me with a look. “Why on earth would I name my car ‘Henrietta?'”
“I think the question is, why *wouldn’t* you?” I eased back into the ridiculously comfortable seat and turned my palms skyward.
She pressed a thumb against her forehead for a moment before hissing out a sigh and returning her attention to the road. After a few blocks rolled by in silence she waved some fingers in the air. “I call it ‘Zone of Truth’ because that’s what it is, a zone of truth. Any question you get asked, you have to answer truthfully.”
I blinked. “Did that come standard or did you have to pay extra for that? It seems like something that would cost extra.”
“I should have let the first doctor sew an actual zipper into your forehead,” she said, but I’m pretty sure she was biting the inside of her cheeks to keep from cracking up. “ANYWAY, by entering the vehicle you’ve agreed to abide by the terms of the Zone of Truth, which means no fibbing out of you or else.”
“What about you? Am I the only one under the eye of the Inquisition?” An awful thought came to me. “Too bad you didn’t get the Nissan version of this, you could have named it Torquearmada.”
She grimaced. “My regret is that we’re not already traveling at high speed on Route 80 yet, as that would make ejecting you that much more satisfying. Although that is the on-ramp just up ahead, so could you repeat that in about two minutes?”
“I noticed you didn’t answer me.”
“You did, did you?” Tish slid the car over just in time to make the on-ramp. “Well, it applies to everyone riding in here. That robot bartender is going to have to toe the line as well.” The Lexus surged onto the highway in that weird, from-the-future way that electric cars do, settling into the fast lane doing about 75 as she engaged the cruise control. “So. Back to your writing. It’s fucking excellent. And I can’t lie about that because of the Zone of Truth.”
“Yeah, yeah. Unfortunately Zone of Truth doesn’t keep you from being perhaps a bit biased.” I rubbed at my jaw. “I do appreciate your support and encouragement, I do, but the stuff just isn’t ready yet.”
“You keep saying that, and I’m sorry but it’s bullshit.” She grumbled under her breath as she swerved to the right to get by someone plodding along in the fast lane. “I mean, what are you afraid of?”
I shifted in my seat, bristling at her words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Tish wasn’t intimidated by my snarl. “It means I’m asking you what you’re afraid of. You’re the head writer for the biggest sports network in the world, Bear. I’ve seen the genius that you create there and if anything your manuscripts are even better. So why are you stalling?”
“I’m not stalling,” I said, wishing I was riding on the luggage rack on the roof instead of in the cabin as I squirmed. “It’s just… they’re not the way I want them to be yet.”
“Uh-huh. So you’re fine-tuning them, is that it?”
I waved my hands around with exasperation. “Yes, yes, I’m fine-tuning them.”
“Okay. When’s the last time you worked on them? Any of it – book, scripts, whatever else you’ve created?”
“I could start looking for good restaurants now, I think.” With surprise I realized my hands were clenched into fists and I took in a long, slow breath to calm myself down. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Zone of Truth, Bear.” She glanced in my direction with an odd expression. “I’m serious – when’s the last time you worked on any of them?”
My eyes looked skyward as I tried to remember. It wasn’t that long ago, was it? Silence stretched out as I ransacked my memory. “Uh… I’m not sure. I want to say not long ago but maybe it’s been a while.”
Tish nodded as if she’d already known the answer. “Okay. Different question: when’s the last time you got laid?”
Oh boy. “I think you can just let me out here, no need to slow down, thanks.” This was a hell of a minefield to drop me into – was she asking because she wanted to be the next one up? Or would I just stick my foot in my mouth if I went in thinking like that? My lips twisted as if the robot bartender had shown up and started stuffing lemon slices in my mouth. “Is this something-”
“Zone of Truth.”
“Yeah, but-”
“Zone. Of. Truth.”
“Fine.” I blew air through my lips and shook my head. “It… has also been a while.”
“Zone. O-”
“Okay, okay, it’s been like, almost a year. A year.” I rested my forehead in my palm, drummed my fingers on the top of my head. “Longer than a year.”
“Since Jessie?”
My shoulders slumped. “Yeah, probably. I mean, I had a couple of dates since then but they didn’t work out.”
“How would you say they didn’t work out? You didn’t hit it off with anyone?”
“No, they were fine, it was just… look, what are you getting at here?” My mind was whirling with confusion and embarrassment. “I think-”
“Zone of Truth, Bear.” Tish’s tone was about as serious as I’d ever heard from her. “I know I’m asking you uncomfortable things but I’m doing so for a reason, a good one. So along with your lack of interest in your writing, have you lost interest in sex as well? Or perhaps had trouble with performance?”
“JESUS CHRIST!” I could feel myself turning several shades of red. This was the last thing I wanted to talk about… or was it? As I stared out the window I realized I hadn’t told anyone about what had been going on – or not been going on. It wasn’t that I was ashamed, but… ah, who am I kidding? Of course I felt ashamed. Dude law, right? If your cock doesn’t work every single fucking time, you must be some kind of loser. Before I even realized I’d decided to speak I heard myself say, in a small voice, “There’s been issues.”
Tish reached out with her right hand, grabbing my left. Part of me wanted to be spiteful and yank it away, but truth be told the contact felt good, reassuring. “Bear, are you seeing anyone about your depression?”
“My… what?” I gave her an incredulous look. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m not depressed! I’m fine!”
“Okay, I’m addressing this issue not to upset you but because depression is something that shouldn’t go ignored.” She released her grip and held up her hand as I started spluttering with indignant outrage, waiting until I finished. “I’ve known you for a long time, Bear, and I can tell when you’re not really yourself. You’ve just confirmed a couple of symptoms, and I’d imagine there are a few more as well. How’ve you been sleeping?”
“Uhm, that’s been kind of a mixed bag.” I felt my anger draining away, replaced by some sort of numbing as I considered what she was saying. “But I don’t feel suicidal or anything.”
“I’m glad to hear that. That is indeed a symptom as well, but you don’t need to check every box.” She looked away from the road long enough to give me a warm smile. “Depression is a liar, and it does its best to make you feel guilt and shame in addition to everything else. I can’t tell you not to feel those things but I will reiterate what I just said – depression is a liar.”
“I’m… I’m in a rut, I get it. But depressed?” My nose twitched as I looked through the windshield, not really seeing the cars we were zipping past. “I guess I’ve been a little down but it’s not like… I don’t know.”
She gave my hand another squeeze. “You’ve been a little off since I came back, which I figured was due to you and Marisol breaking things off.”
I shrugged. “Sure, I wasn’t happy things between me and Mari ended, but there was no acrimony between us. She got a great offer in California and I had just been made head writer, so me going as well wasn’t even an option.” I tugged at an earlobe. “We’re still friends, though, yak via text or email every once in a while. She seems to be doing well.”
“Okay. And then you got involved with Jessica?”
“Not right away – there were a few dates and other short relationships before we got rolling.”
“So.” Tish slid open the center armrest and produced some sort of bottled tea. I shook my head as she waggled it in my direction before popping the top off and taking a long pull. “Given that you’ve never really talked about it, I’m going to assume that the breakup with her was much less amicable than it was with Mari.”
“Assume away.”
She cocked her head and gave me some quality side-eye. “Do I need to say it?”
“Say wh – ah, ‘Zone of Truth,’ right?” I made a noise of disgust deep in my throat. “I am going to have some words with the travel agent who booked me on this trip,” I said, reaching up to rub my brow but stopping when I hit my bandage. “Fine. But for reasons that will become obvious I’m going to ask, nay, I shall demand, that this doesn’t leave the confines of this vehicle.”
“Of course! How dare you suggest I don’t know how a Zone of Truth works.” Her smile was only a ghost of itself. “Talk to me, Bear.”
“So, okay, things had been going along just fine, I guess. The facts that we didn’t have a lot of common interests had been easy to ignore during the beginning, when all your stories are new again and sex is like opening presents on your birthday.”
“Your parties as a kid must have been really cringy.”
“If the peanut gallery is going to interrupt I’m down with skipping the retelling. Up to you.”
Tish mimed locking her lips together and tossing away the key.
“So, anyway, for a while it was cool. She was stunning, sex was frequent and great, and we did a lot of laughing and little excursions new couples are supposed to do. We didn’t have much as far as shared interests, though, and as time moved on that started to concern me a bit – what were we supposed to do together?” I paused, recalling some awkward moments. Why is it we always remember those? “She started talking about moving in together and I didn’t see the logic in that. Became a bit of a recurring conversation.”
“I’ll bet. What else?”
I blew a raspberry. “Oh, she wanted me to take a week off to visit her hometown, meet her family, that sort of thing. For whatever reason it had to be on a specific week and that happened to be right before the awards show, and you know what that time is like for me.” She nodded. “It was even worse because it was my first one as head writer and I wanted to light the lamp, knock it out of the park, and whatever other sports metaphors you’d care to apply. I was working twelve, fourteen hour days for a couple of months and even though I’d told her there was no way I could go, could she pick another time, she kept asking me over and over and over. Why was two weeks later not feasible?” I threw up my hands. “I don’t know. I’d never get a straight answer from her when I asked. Anyway, the show goes off and I’m pretty happy with the results – I think my team and I did a good job. Given the stress I’d been dealing with any sort of vacation would have been great, but she’d stopped asking once the time she’d wanted to go had passed. Instead she calls me up the next morning -”
“She didn’t go with you to the awards show? Did you ask her?”
“I asked, but she wasn’t interested. She didn’t like sports and certainly didn’t want to spend a night at an event that was focused on them.”
Tish shook her head. “She had to have had some idea how big a night it was for you.”
My shoulders rose, fell. “I would think so, but I was okay with her not being there. One less thing to juggle.”
“‘Juggle?'”
“Maybe not the best choice of terms, but she wouldn’t have known anyone.” I sucked at my teeth. “I would have foisted her off on you but you weren’t there.”
Her eyes narrowed. “They don’t invite the sales gang, even to be babysitters.”
I held up my hands in a placating gesture. “Not saying you’d done something wrong, just that I wasn’t too upset she wasn’t there.”
“You know that speaks volumes, right?”
“Uhm. It does, doesn’t it? Hmm.” I chewed on that for a bit. “Anyway, she called me the next morning and asked me to come by her place right after my class that night.”
Tish wrinkled her nose. “Like, all sweaty and gross?”
“She did have a shower at her place, you know. Big enough for two, truth be told.”
“That’s a detail I could have lived without knowing, thanks.”
I laughed. “You asked for the story.”
“That doesn’t mean I need to know about labial piercings or if she has ‘fuck you’ tattooed on the inside of her lower lip.”
“Who would have that tatt-” I froze as Tish reached up and pulled her lower lip out. “You’re kidding.”
She made a noise and wiggled it before breaking up. “You are so gullible, Bear. One of the many things I love about you.” She rumbled with laughter again. “I do know someone who has that tatt, though. She’s an exotic dancer, flashes it at the no-tippers.”
“Pretty certain Jess didn’t have that, as it would have been put to use. So, I do as requested and show up at her apartment after class, let myself in. I was hoping she wanted to have sex but also figured maybe there was something else on the menu.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Turns out I was right, but wrong about what my role was going to be.”
“Oh. OH.” Tish glanced at me as the light bulb flared to life. “Really?”
“Really. Bedroom door open, loud sex occuring.” I grimaced. “In fact, she’d moved her bed so she could have a sight line and see when I showed up. Once it was obvious I could understand what was going on she starts yelling that she had to go find a real man because I’m terrible in bed and this is what it sounds like when she’s actually getting pleasured, and so on.” I paused, made a face. “I mean she sounded the same as when I was with her but what do I know?”
“That’s… rough.”
“You’re not wrong,” I said with a tight smile. “Her jumping out of bed to continue to berate me wasn’t much better.”
“You’re kidding me.” Her hand went to her mouth. “That’s pretty vicious. Are you sure you haven’t left something major out of this?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
She took another drink of her tea. “I mean, I get she was upset because she wanted something more serious than you did, but that’s pretty extreme.”
“Did she?” At her raised eyebrow I added, “Why do you think she wanted it to be something more?”
“She wanted to take you to meet her parents, you dingbat. That’s not usually the plan with your late-night booty call.”
I mulled that over for a bit. “We… I mean, like I said we had nothing in common. I thought it was obvious that we were just in it for a shared good time.”
“I’m going to venture a guess that it wasn’t obvious to her.” Tish slid us over a lane as a pickup with ridiculously large tires roared past with a black belch of diesel exhaust. “I’m not interested about where blame is to be placed on the failing of your relationship. I’m concerned about you and the somewhat broken thing you are now. You don’t need to further elaborate about what happened at Jessica’s – I get the picture. So would you say your… issues started after that?”
“The whole episode stayed lodged in my head for a while, as you might imagine it would.” I rolled my neck. This was difficult and uncomfortable to talk about but at the same time I was getting the idea that it really needed to be discussed. The ‘letting it fester’ approach hadn’t been working so well. “The second-guessing didn’t start until after, uhm, the first time I didn’t rise to the occasion. Then it kind of took up residence in my head.”
Tish nodded. “Did you seek any help? A therapist, maybe? Doctor? ED pills?”
I kneaded my hands, working off nervous energy. “No. I was waking up with, uhm, morning wood so it didn’t feel like a physical issue.” Pretty much confirmed given the past few weeks with Tish in my head, but there was no way I could say that out loud. “And I didn’t talk to anyone, because, well…” I trailed off, feeling my cheeks redden.
“I speak out of place here, but in my opinion there’s nothing to feel shame or be embarrassed about, Bear. I’ve had partners who experienced the same thing you’re talking about, and look at me!” She made a flourish with her fingers. “Can you imagine not being inflamed with desire in my presence?”
Absolutely not, but I couldn’t tell her that. “Okay, I get that, but still, it’s a rough thing to hear. And it doesn’t go away because then I’m like, ‘well, what if she was being honest? What if I *am* lousy in bed?'”
“Are you?” The look she was giving me wasn’t mocking, but curious. “I mean, you must have some idea.”
I hissed with exasperation, then wiped the flecks of spit from the dash pad. “Oops. Sorry. My ego is a little moist, it seems.” I fell silent for a few moments, thinking. “I mean, I don’t think I’m a lousy lover? This was the first time someone came right out and said it to my face but maybe everyone else was too nice to do so? Or less angry at me?” I threw up my hands. “So I guess I have no idea.”
“Ask someone else.”
“What?”
“Ask someone else. It’s entirely possible that Jessica was just being a vindictive twatwaffle, and if she was then kudos to her for a job well done.” Tish smiled over my scowl. “Ask someone you trust, someone you know will be honest and doesn’t have an agenda.”
“I have no-”
“Marisol, you dope. Ask Marisol.” She shook her head. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, Bear.”
Sure, what could possibly go wrong? With a small sigh I dug out my phone and started typing.
Hey, it’s me. Was I a decent lover?
“It’s pretty early out there, so who knows when she’ll see this?” There was a beep. “Or maybe she’ll answer back right away.”
New phone who dis?
I rested my forehead in my palm and let out a long, slow exhale. “I’ve always wanted to have a fine meal in Paris on someone else’s dime.”
Tish laughed. “Don’t tell me she answered ‘no’.”
“No, she’s too busy being a smart ass first.”
Did you mean to send this to Tinder instead?
I ground my teeth. “Maybe I’m better off staying celebate for the rest of my life.”
“Easy now, big fella. You know Mari and you know she’s going to have her fun with you first. It’s like paying a toll before you cross a bridge.”
“Apt, since she’s trolling the hell out of me.”
LOLOLOL Hi Ted if this is a pickup line it’s not your best work
Fine let me start over Hi Mari it’s Ted hope all is well I was wondering if you could answer a question for me
Go ahead is it about sex I bet it’s about sex
You know it’s about sex because I already asked it
I bet you’re doing that thing where you scowl and you get that little vertical line between your eyes
I took a moment to stop scowling.
ANYWAY I would appreciate if you’d answer the question as honestly as possible
Oh you were serious? Why would you even – you’re fine at the sexing, Ted. Better than fine I mean I didn’t date you for all that time for your mind LOL
Thank you, I think
Why did you ask me that? You know I’m pretty serious with Lance, we talked about it at length a few weeks ago
I’m not trying to recapture the rapture and I was and am happy to hear things are going well for you
Okay then I have to assume someone said you weren’t and it’s fucking with your head
You’re not wrong
“That’s a lot of typing, Bear. What did she say?” I jumped as Tish poked me with a finger. “Do you suck or what? Oh, and say hi from me.”
I feel like there’s a story there that is not meant to be shared via text
Once again, you’re not wrong. Also Tish says hi
HI TISH!!!!! What are you guys doing is it fun I like fun
Got roped into being her arm candy at a wedding in her hometown fun level undetermined as of yet
There was no immediate response. I looked out at the sunny sky, empty of clouds, and listened to the highway racing beneath our tires. I was sincere about being happy for Mari and her relationship. There were times I missed her – more so during the past few months although that made a lot more sense now – and what we’d had, but we’d emerged as friends and I was glad that she’d found someone. Checking my watch, I was shocked to realize that we’d been on the road for well over an hour already. How had that happened?
I heard a buzzing sound and looked over to see Tish’s phone vibrating in the stand on the dashboard it was clipped into. I couldn’t see the screen, and she gave it the briefest of glances before returning her gaze to the road.
“I forgot to go to the bathroom before we left,” she said. “I’m going to get off at the next exit, there’s one of those places that’s like a Wawa but isn’t a Wawa. Okay?”
“You don’t need my permission to stop and pee.” I was still pretty twitchy from the earlier conversation and walking around a bit couldn’t hurt. Grabbing a soda sounded good as well.
Mari still hadn’t responded by the time we glided into the parking lot of something called a Sheetz. Almost as soon as we’d stopped Tish tossed me the keys before grabbing her phone, stuffing it into her purse, and exiting the vehicle. Hey, when you gotta go, right? I wandered over to the place’s store at a much more sedate rate and spent the next few minutes poking around through tee-shirts and trying to decide whether or not I needed a bag of chili cheese Fritos. By the time I’d convinced myself that I didn’t and had settled for a Coke Zero instead Tish emerged from the restroom, gracing me with a big smile as she approached. Heads turned as she walked by, which didn’t surprise me. She had that ‘it’ factor, above and beyond her physical appearance, the kind of person who pumps energy into a room just by being there. I felt myself smiling back as she drew near.
“Having fun yet? You know you are.”
“I dunno, maybe not until we start unearthing childhood traumas I’ve been repressing.”
She gave me a playful shove on my shoulder as she laughed. “C’mon, I’m going to get a Slushy in a color not approved by nature. You just want a soda?”
I nodded as I followed her to an unexpectedly large selection of machines bearing bright frozen confections. A few minutes later, as we got back into her truck, she stuck out her tongue at me.
“Blue looks good on me, right?”
Oh, the thoughts that raced through my head at that. “You look like you’ve been eating Smurfs.”
She laughed as we headed back off, zooming back out onto the highway and heading deeper into Pennsylvania. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and pulled it out to discover Mari had responded.
Go have a good time! Being anywhere with Tish is usually pretty awesome. And again, I can’t vouch for others but you were almost always at least barely adequate in bed HAHAHAHAHAHA I’m a terrible person which is why you love me seriously Ted you were terrific don’t let some jerk get you down
Thank you
All this sex talk gettin me hot and bothered gonna go jump my man now
TMI MARI
LOL love you bye HAVE FUN
I felt a ghost of a grin as I thumbed through my email. Mari’s kind appraisal had made me feel slightly less grumpy, although Jessica’s words still rankled and probably would until things down there worked the way they were supposed to.
“So, are you terrible, or what?”
“Ever tactful, Tish, ever tactful.”
“Psshh. I’m not pulling punches with you. You’re a big boy.”
“You just told me I’m depressed! Is haranguing me your idea of treatment?”
She favored me with some side-eye. “Still waiting for an answer here.”
I threw up my hands, dropping my phone in the process. “She said I was fine. More than fine, okay?” Bending over to retrieve it included first getting stopped cold by the seat belt, but after some twisting and blind groping I got it back. “Does this mean I’m cured?” I asked in a peevish voice.
That earned me a slow, cold stare. “I’m telling you this because you’re my friend and I love you – take your depression seriously. If you underestimate it and what it can do to you… it would be bad.”
“Okay,” I said in a softer tone. “I’m just… this has been kind of a lot.”
“I get it. Let’s take a break and talk about something else.” She showed teeth again. “Why is your rugby nickname ‘Knock-knock’? It sounds dirty. Is it dirty?”
I snorted. “Alas, it’s more stupid than salacious.”
“And yet you’re going to tell me why because we’re back in the Zone of Truth. Is it because you fumble a lot? That’s called a knock in rugby, right?”
“No, and yes. I don’t commit too many knock-ons. My hands are pretty good for a scrummie.”
“Not according to Jessica BAHAHAHAHAHA!” Tish let out a smaller giggle. “Sorry, but I couldn’t resist.”
Maybe I should have been irritated but she looked too good while cracking up. Besides, it was pretty good. “ANYWAY, you vituperous harpy, a long time ago – a REALLY long time ago – we were at a post-game drink-up at a bar in the Village. We’d been there a while and suffice to say we were pretty well-lubricated.”
“Got your excuses all lined up, I see.”
“Hush, you. What I have been told was that an extremely attractive woman broached our little gathering, walked over to me, and said, “Tell me a good joke.”
Tish stuck out her lower lip. “That’s a pretty good ice-breaker, to be honest. I like it. So what did you OHHHHHH” She covered her open mouth with her hand. “Bear. BEAR. Did you tell her a knock-knock joke?”
Amazing that I still found myself somewhat embarrassed about this a good ten years later. “I did mention I’d had a lot to drink, right?”
Tish exploded with laughter again. “Shit,” she managed to get out, “I don’t know if that’s adorable or pathetic. Maybe a bit of both.” After taking a moment to gather herself she added, “Do you remember which one you told?”
“The only thing I could come up with was ‘interrupting cow.'”
“I don’t know that one.” After a long pause she added, “Tell me!”
“Ugh. Do I have to?”
“Do I even have to tell you the answer to that?”
I sighed, shook my head. “Fine. Knock-knock.”
“WHO’S THERE?” asked Tish in a sing-songy voice.
“Interrupting cow.”
“INTERRUPTING CO-”
“MOOOOOOO!”
Tish laughed so hard that she snorted. “I like that one! You would have gotten a laugh out of me and been allowed to continue the wooing.” She abruptly slowed down, glancing at the shoulder up ahead. “I see you, Mr. Policeman.” Her eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror as we drove past, lingering long enough to make sure she wasn’t in trouble. “No cherries and berries, thank you very much. So shall I assume that your lady fair was not as amused by your offering as I would have been?”
“She rolled her eyes, said ‘lame,’ and walked out of my life while my teammates roared at my failure. And thus, ‘Knock-knock’ was born.”
“Given that it’s a rugby thing I expected something much more disgusting.”
“Sorry to disappoint you. If you want I can tell you how Puddles and Fester got their names but to be honest you’re better off not knowing.” I paused. “I kinda wish I didn’t know.”
She showed me her palm. “I’m good, thanks.” We rolled along for a while in companionable silence as I responded to a few messages on my work Slack. Part of being a boss, even one as low on the corporate ladder as I am, requires almost constant accessibility. Which sucks. Then I fell down an internet rabbit hole or two for much longer than I realized, only snapping out of it when Tish cleared her throat.
“So,” she said in a tone much less boisterous than her usual one. “Only fair that I also allow the Zone of Truth to affect me as well.”
I arched an eyebrow. “We are intrigued. You may proceed.”
Tish gave a nervous chuckle that seemed out of place. “So, well, it will probably get mentioned on air but I wanted you to know before that happens.” She flipped a few of her braids over her shoulder, which allowed me to notice that she’d removed her red hair thingy at the rest stop. “I’m, uhm, leaving.”
My mirth vanished. “Oh? The company?”
She nodded. “The company. And my field. And the East Coast.” She looked over at me and then quickly away. “I’m moving to California.”
“For good reasons, I hope?” I did my best not to let my disappointment show but I’m not going to lie, I was pretty shaken by the news. She’d become a big part of my life.
“Yeah!” She perked up for a second, then reined herself back in. “La Jolla State University is making the jump from D2 to D1 and they’ve hired me to be the coach. For softball, obviously.”
“Good thing you told me that, because I was figuring it was for rugby.” I managed a small grin as she stuck out her blue tongue, my insides roiling. “That’s amazing! Congrats!” I leaned over and performed the best hug I could given that we were both belted into seats, letting go far more quickly than I wanted to as I did my best to blink back tears before they could fall. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. “You must be so excited! You, uhm, never elaborated about what happened when you left to coach last time… was that four years ago?”
Her face scrunched up as she did some calculating, nose wrinkling in an absurdly adorable way. “I think it was almost five years ago that I left, and you’re correct that I was maddeningly vague about my tenure. But this is the Zone of Truth so I kind of have to and besides, I would love to get it off my chest.” She turned her dark, dark brown eyes my way for a moment. “You know, if I can trust you not to share the NDA I’m about to violate.”
I was doing my best to focus and ignore what felt like a heavy blanket settling over me. “Hmm, tough choice. I’m a big fan of ‘chained heat’ movies and I can already picture you in an orange prison jumpsuit with the arms torn off.”
“Perv. Although you’re right, I’d wear the hell out of that.” Her arm muscles bulged as she flexed, favoring me with a smirk. “But if you’re done playing shower fantasies in your mind can I tell you what happened?”
“Fine, fine.” I mean, now that she’d mentioned it I couldn’t help but have those images. “Tell me your tale, which sounds like it’s way more salacious than my rugby name story.”
“You got it, Knock-knock.”
“That can be not a thing and I’d be okay with it.”
Her reply was a giggle. I sighed.
“Anyway, before I tell you that story I need to tell you another one. What do you know of my softball career?”
I plumbed the depths of my memory. When we’d first started hanging out I’d done some research out of curiosity. “Uhm, well, you won the college World Series in… oh-eight? Right?”
“Yup. And not only did we win it, but I was the Most Outstanding Player.” She radiated pride. “I hit.675 over the tournament, which is still a record. I threw out all seven runners who tried to steal against me. I was on the All-Tournament team and before I graduated I was already invited to try out for the Olympic team.”
“So you didn’t suck, is what you’re saying.”
“If I wasn’t the best player in the world I certainly could have been included in the conversation, to be sure.” She pursed her lips. “Pretty amazing time.”
“And then you got hurt.”
She nodded. “Indeed, although that’s kind of like saying summers in Arizona get a little bit warm. Do you know the details?” At my headshake her gaze fell to her right knee for a moment, which bore a myriad of scar tissue snakes. “First day of Olympic tryouts. Foregone conclusion I was going to make the team. Little bit of scrimmaging for fun. And then I stepped on a bat.”
I remained silent as Tish grimaced before scratching at the side of her face.
“The doctors, well, they told me they’d never seen anything like it. Not only did I tear everything in my right knee – and I do mean everything – I also managed to tear things on my ankle and foot. Some clean from the bone. Never been one to half-ass things, to be sure.”
“Going to assume that’s why you missed the Olympics,” I said in a soft voice.
She sniffed. “Pretty much missed everything for a while except for getting operated on, got really good at that. Remove this, reattach that, put this thing in from a dead person, and so on. I did the work they told me to and then some, until they started warning me to throttle back before I blew everything up again.”
“Did you?”
“Did I what? Re-destroy my knee?” Tish curled a corner of her mouth. “No, but not for lack of trying. I spent the better part of two years pushing myself to the edge in order to get back to what I’d been. Women’s team lost the gold medal game in 2008 and I was determined to be part of the crew that would win in 2012.”
I knew that hadn’t happened. “Ah, shit.”
“Yeah, exactly.” There was no missing the bitterness in her tone. “I never did get back to what I’d been, but I was doing well with my rehab. And then the IOC announced in 2009 what had been rumored all along – no more softball. Never thought they’d follow through with it” The edges of her eyes glittered with moisture. “Bastards.”
“I’m sorry, Tish,” I said, leaning over to rub her shoulder. “I can’t even imagine how much that sucks.”
She reached up to squeeze my hand before rubbing at her eye. “Thanks, Bear. It’s been a long time since I’ve talked about this, maybe too long.” She sniffed again, and I fumbled around before finding a napkin in one of the cupholders and giving it to her. “Sometimes you have to air this shit out, though. Otherwise it’ll just rot you away from the inside. I appreciate you listening.”
“Not like I had a fucking choice – kidding!” She narrowed her eyes for a second before joining me in a laugh. “Pretty fair tradeoff since you had to listen about me getting whisky dick, sans whiskey.”
“I’m not done yet, though.”
“No?”
“No. I still have to tell you about what happened when I left to coach a few years ago BUT we’re not done with this sad tale yet.” She looked at me, her expression unreadable. “Never told anyone but my therapist about this before, so as mentioned before please keep this between us or I’ll put you between my thighs and squeeze you like a grape.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I joked. Well, half-joked. “You don’t have to keep swearing me to secrecy, Tish. You’re my best goddamned friend and I’d never do anything to hurt you.” I paused. “Well, knowingly. I can be pretty clueless sometimes.”
“HA! Ain’t that the truth.” She gave me a wink. “So, anyway, we get the official death knell notification and I’m like, well, what the fuck do I do now?”
“Don’t you have, like, three different degrees?”
“Three different majors, not degrees. But in any case State says to me, ‘hey, come be an assistant coach.’ And I’m like ‘whoa, that sounds like a great idea, what could possibly go wrong?'”
I took a pull from my soda. “I’m guessing there was indeed some wrongness.”
“Indeed. I was a terrible coach.”
I paused while screwing the cap back on my bottle. “Wait, what? How? Why?”
“You left out ‘when’ and ‘where,’ Lois Lane.” She tapped a finger against her chin. “I was like a year and a half removed from being one of, if not the, best players in the world. They made me the catchers’ coach, gave me four women barely younger than myself to be in charge of. They were all good, very good, but they weren’t as good as I had been and it drove me *nuts*. I had no patience with them not being able to wait on a pitch and drive it to the opposite field with power. I gritted my teeth every time one of their throws to second wasn’t exactly where it needed to be. And when I’d discovered they were spending time on something other than softball, training, or classes? Hoo boy.” Tish let out a sigh, her entire body deflating. “Ten years later, at the suggestion of my therapist, I sought them out so I could apologize for the year of hell I put them through.”
My eyes widened. “You were that bad?”
“I was frustrated, angry, and bitter. I took it out on them for not being me, and that was an awful thing to do.” She took her hands off the wheel long enough to crack her knuckles. “The only saving grace was that none of them were seniors, so at least I didn’t ruin anyone’s final year. Both the AD and I agreed that I should move on when the season ended with as little fanfare as possible, and a few months later your life improved markedly when we got jobs with the same company.”
“Little did I know the significance of that moment.”
She exhaled. “You weren’t getting optimized Latisha at that point. Not that I wasn’t still worth the price of admission and then some, but I was working through some shit. Still am, obviously, but I’m a better person now.”
“As we head toward a wedding being attended out of spite,” I said with a grin.
“Not just spite. Also to flaunt about how well I’m doing, how great I look, and the quality of my date.” She gave me a meaningful glance. “That’s you, by the way. QUITE the catch.”
“I bet you say that to all the guys you grab as a last minute replacement.”
She started to reply but caught herself, falling oddly quiet for long enough that I began to wonder if I’d touched a nerve. Not caring for the awkward silence, I faked a cough and dove in again.
“So, where were we? Are we to the story at the center of this Tootsie Pop?”
Tish nodded, her face easing into a smile. “I like that, because my inner sweetness is indeed a different flavor than my outer. So I – whoa, I didn’t know cheeks could get that red! Bear, you have a dirty mind!” She dissolved into laughter while I shrugged and nodded. Giving the stirring in my shorts things were going to get a whole lot more embarrassing (yet also encouraging given my overall picture) unless the subject got changed. Lucky for me Tish remained interested in airing her dirty laundry, so to speak.
“Anyway, my delicate flower, several years back I get a call from the woman who’d been my catching coach at ASU. She’s an assistant AD at New Orleans State U and her boss has an offer for me.”
I frowned. “NOSU… isn’t that where what’s-her-name, Constance McVry, hasn’t she been coaching there for like a century or so?”
“Not quite that long, but a while. I fly down on their dime and meet the AD. Constance has been there forever but the softball program hasn’t been relevant in at least a decade. Her contract is up in two years and the plan is to hire me as an assistant, let me learn what I can from her, and when they don’t offer her a renewal – she’s going to be 87 or something like that by then – I get the job.”
“And she was on board with that?”
Tish waved a finger. “One of the many questions I should have asked, but didn’t. Instead I dove in head first without checking how deep the water was. I was asked not to speak about the future and instead to focus on my job as so not to take away from McVry’s last two seasons.” She grabbed her tea, took a drink. “The first indication that perhaps I wasn’t getting all sides of the story was when I showed up and was put to work – scouting other teams via video.”
“That doesn’t sound like what the catching coach does. Is it?”
“On a tiny staff, maybe, but this was NOSU and I was doing the job of an intern, or even an injured player. I figured it was a temporary thing but despite there not being another catching coach there – the previous one had retired – during the Fall I wasn’t even getting asked to be out on the field during team practices or individuals. After a few weeks one of the catchers, who knew who I was, came to me for coaching. The other catchers followed.”
I cocked my head. “They can do that?”
“Sure. During Fall players are pretty much expected to be doing something related to softball every moment they aren’t doing schoolwork. Some hire outside coaches, trainers, and so on.” Her fingernails, a rather sedate red, tapped out a rhythm along the top of the steering wheel airbag. “They’d seen me at full team meetings but at no point had Coach McVry or anyone else introduced me or indicated that I was supposed to be the catching coach. The AD told me to be patient, that everything would work out soon enough.”
“Not so much?”
“Not so much. Over time I managed to find out that McVry hadn’t been consulted on my hiring, was furious about it, and determined to freeze me out as much as possible. Turns out she had no intention of retiring when her contract was up and had adroitly surmised that the AD had me in mind as her replacement. It was December before I managed to get in to talk to her alone, and I damn near had to stalk her to accomplish that.”
“And how’d that go?”
“After she stopped yelling at me because she might have collapsed otherwise? Better than expected. I told her I’d been hired as the catching coach and that’s what I wanted to be. I didn’t admit that the AD had loftier plans for me but I didn’t deny them either – I was more than happy to let her target her ire on the slippery weasel that had tossed me into this mess.” She used her fingers to glide the truck around another person who didn’t understand the concept of the fast lane. “You suck, Miss. Go do the speed limit in the slow lane. Where was I? Oh, detente. Or some watered-down version of it, anyway. I was allowed to work with the catchers, including at practices, but otherwise I was persona non grata. Not that it really mattered because the talent level there… yikes.”
I was starting to wish I’d grabbed the Fritos as my stomach made a low growl. “No longer one of the best programs?”
She rolled her eyes. “She was coasting on her reputation instead of going out and doing the legwork and the recruiting. Scholarships mean you’ll always ink some decent players, but it also means you’re getting the leftovers because the best ones went to where they thought they had the best chance of winning. But I’ll give her this, she was pretty shrewd. Scheduled a load of games against inferior schools before the conference season started to pad our record before the whuppings started, so at season’s end we were a game over.500. Good enough for them, I guess. Meanwhile, I started deciding in my mind which coaches could stay and which I was going to jettison into the Gulf.” Her lips twisted into a wry grin. “There were going to be a lot of splashes, I can tell you that.”
“Ha!” Her eyes flicked in my direction as my tummy got a little more vocal.
“Why didn’t you get something to eat at the absurdly clean gas station?” Tish made an exasperated sound before rummaging around and producing a bulging ziploc bag. “Lucky for you I made a ton of my personal recipe trail mix and am beneficent enough to share it with you. Feast, my fortunate friend.”
Nodding thanks, I took the bag and, after opening it, tossed a small handful into my mouth. “Uhm. UHM. That’s really good.” It was. Not just a nice sweet and salty mix but other zesty spices on there as well. I started chowing down in earnest as she, with a satisfied smile, continued.
“Then, over the summer, the AD was fired. ‘Mutual parting of the ways’ and all that, but his ass got punted for sure. New AD was announced a few days later, and a week after that the exciting news that Couch McVry was being extended for another three years.”
I paused, my mouth stuffed with snacky goodness. “Oops.”
“Oops indeed. That summer found me in a place where I didn’t really know anyone, being zoned out by my fellow coaches, and having zero luck dating. It was not one of the high points of my life, despite the awesome city that is New Orleans. I had trouble sleeping, kept to myself too much, and was feeling lethargic – sound familiar at all?” The look she gave me was a mixture of sadness and concern, and I could almost feel it in my chest. “My contract ran for another year and I was enjoying the coaching aspect, even somewhat hobbled, so I stuck it out. We managed TWO games over.500 that time, all praise Coach McV. There wasn’t even a whiff of an offer made in my direction. Feeling pretty fucking low, I tucked my tail between my legs and came creeping back to our employer, who was kind enough to rehire me. And then I got people like you back into my life and shit got better, for the most part.”
“Most part?” I stopped eating, liberating a napkin from the center console and wiping at my gunked-up hand. “That sounds like something that falls under the authorization of the Zone of Truth.”
“Hoist with my own petard yet again.” She let a heavy sigh escape. “I was happy to get my job back at first, but I started to realize it wasn’t what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Plus, outside of you and a few other people, there’s not much here for me anymore. Okay, that sounds awful and minimizes how important you are to me. That’s not how I meant it to come across. It’s just-” she waved her hands for emphasis – “I’m lonely. And if I stay lonely, I’m going to get unhappy. And if that happens, well…” Tish gestured in my direction. “Then I’m in the same boat you are. I’ve been there before, don’t want to be there again, sorry.”
Ye gods, this had been a hell of a morning. “I didn’t know you were feeling this way. It seemed to me that you’re always dating this athlete or that athlete, but I might be clueless.”
She laughed. “You are, but that’s part of why I adore you. I’ve never met anyone as guileless as you, Bear. But yes, clueless. Do you know why I date so many jocks?” At my shrug she said, “Because they’re usually the only ones who are interested. I couldn’t tell you how many men I’ve encountered who couldn’t imagine dating me because I was bigger than them.”
My face bunched up. “What? How is that a thing? I mean, you’re magnificent.” And starring in my dreams as of late, truth be kept to myself.
“Mmm. Use three words or phrases to describe the appearance of every woman you’ve been involved with over the past ten years, Bear.”
“What?”
She pressed her lips together for a moment. “Humor me.”
“Okay.” I started running the highlight reel of my romances in my mind. Hair color… no set preference. Same with eye color. “Uhm.”
“Let me help you,” she said in a flat tone. She popped a finger up for each of her selections. “Willowy. Model-level gorgeous. Very long hair. Add them together and you get the traditional definition of female attractiveness.”
I started to object before catching myself… she was right. “Ah. It seems I have a type.”
“Mmm-hmm. Not just you, Bear. Most dudes follow that path and in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have any of those traits.”
“Bullshit. You’re absolutely fucking beautiful.”
She gave me a fond look. “Thank you, but not in the sense I identified. Guys look at me as an oddity, something different that’s probably not worth the effort. I am not frat-boy fodder, Bear.”
I wasn’t a believer in the ‘friend-zone’ bullshit but that didn’t matter anyway, as Tish had never given me any indication that I lit her fire and I wasn’t interested in becoming a Creepy Stalker Dude. That being said, it made me sad that it didn’t feel okay to tell her that I thought she was someone I wished I could be with. “Okay, but do you care if those types of dudes aren’t interested in you?”
“In theory? No. But it also sucks to be alone unless I’m willing to lower my standards.” Tish fiddled with her hair. “I’m not saying all professional athletes are on the self-centered, somewhat narcissistic side but it sure has been prevalent in the ones I’ve been involved with. I mean, it’s understandable.”
“Is it?” I closed up the bag of snacks before I emptied the damn thing, putting it on the console. “Isn’t a jerk a jerk?”
“Sure, but most of these guys have been placed on a pedestal since they were little kids. They were the best and so were told they were special, treated like they were special, spoiled like they were special. Now they’re in the pros, where their every need is taken care of, so the royal treatment continues on.” She shook her head. “They don’t need to come back to the real world – this treatment is their real world. Which, hey, good for them. If you’re one of the 1700 or so guys skilled enough to be in the NFL you deserve the accolades. Doesn’t make them adept at handling a relationship, though.”
I rolled a question around in my head for a bit, debating on whether or not to ask it before deciding what the fuck. “Okay, don’t take this the wrong way-”
Tish let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Pretty hard not to with that lead in. Kind of like ‘I’m not a racist but…”
“Fair enough. Let me try to ask it in a non-douchey way.” I blew a raspberry. “Were you, as an athlete succeeding at elite levels, ever guilty of the same thing?”
She started to answer immediately before catching herself, her expression morphing from indignation to thoughtful contemplation as the highway sang beneath our wheels. A solid minute later she nodded a few times. “Yeah, I mean, I had no interest in fuckboy timewasters, if that’s what you mean. Figuring out that I needed to avoid that shit was through hard-earned experience, though.”
“Understood. Well, maybe you’ll find someone more to your liking at LJSU. Whole new world for you to explore.”
Instead of responding Tish fixed her eyes on the road ahead, her hands loosening and tightening around the steering wheel. It felt like she wanted to say something and I hoped it wasn’t to yell at me for inferring that the younger version of her might have been guilty of what bothered her now in others. As the oppressive silence dragged out I almost wished she would. Being left alone in my own head at the moment wasn’t a lot of fun, as I was still reeling from the news that she was leaving. Speaking of…
“So, uhm, when are you leaving?” Fuck, but it was difficult to get that out without my voice wavering. I could feel my throat closing up at the thought of it.
“Uhm. I gave notice on Tuesday and we agreed I’d stay for three more weeks.” She waved a hand. “Not sure why they need me to, there’s at least three people under me who’ll be better at my job than I ever was.”
I did some figuring. “Isn’t this going to be way too late for you to be able to recruit for this year? It’s late June.”
“Not making the jump to D1 until next year. One more season at D2 with what’s already there. Meanwhile I can start wooing high school seniors in the fall. It’s not going to be easy, but I’m excited.” She gave me a long look. “I am handicapping the hell out of my bid to get your writing submitted, Bear. No more Tish’s Tales of Woe for now. Let’s get back to you.”
“Oh, goody. Look, this is my excited face.”
“Is it? No wonder Jessica unloaded on you, you look like you’re waiting in line at Motor Vehicles.” She laughed as I stuck out my tongue. “What did you say before? ‘Don’t threaten me with a good time,’ right? Tell me what else is bothering you.”
“Why do you assume something else is bothering me?”
“Because I’ve known you long enough to know, Bear. I get it, you’re a bit punchy at all the revelations and open discussion so far but don’t stop now.” She cocked her head. “Do I need to say it?”
“Yeah, yeah, Zone of Truth, I get it.” I brooded for a moment or three. “They just changed the VP of my department.”
Tish let out a low whistle. “Bringing in a former writer, I hope?”
“Oh, you adorable thing. Of course not, why would you want someone creative in charge of the creative arm of the company? Came up through programming. When he gave the ‘rah-rah-everything’s-great-nothing’s-going-to-change’ speech he avoided making eye contact with me, so I got that going for me.”
“How long have you been head writer? Was it right before I came back?”
I rubbed at my nose before shaking my head. “A little over three years ago. Perfect amount of time to ‘shake something up’ and cut my salary free in order to show departmental savings.” I gave a rueful chuckle. “Why do you think I got promoted? Gina let Sarah go and promoted me for much less than she’d been paying her. Circle of life, I suppose.”
“Okay. So, how are you not more of a mess?”
“I mean you’ve already informed me that I’m depressed, so is that not messy enough?” I spread my arms wide. “ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?”
“I’m starting to pick up on that things are a little worse for you right now than I imagined, but that’s on me. Been distracted with getting the new job, and I apologize for that.” She gave me a playful punch in the shoulder. “Even though you’re going to have the best weekend of your life and all you should still get someone professional to talk to.”
“Understood. I’ll use the insurance from the job I’m going to get canned from to pay, of course.” At her baleful glance I held up my hands. “Teasing. I don’t disagree that it’s a good idea. Of course you have a degree so I could talk to you…” I trailed off at the reminder that she was going to be several thousands of miles away soon.
“Hey.” Judging by the soothing tone she adopted I must not have done a very good job of hiding the disappointment on my face. “First, while I have a degree I’m not a professional. Second, I’m not dropping off the planet. I will be bothering you ALL the time, I promise. Plus there are ways we can play games online so just because I’m on the West Coast doesn’t mean you won’t still get your ass kicked.”
I nodded without enthusiasm, belatedly noticing that we’d eased over and were approaching an off-ramp. “Something wrong?”
“I mean, yes in that we’re at the exit to take us to the awful wedding that awaits us, but otherwise it’s fine.” She gave me a quick smile as I lapsed back into brooding. “I’m not going to say everything’s going to be okay, Bear. I’m going to miss the hell out of you but I hope we stay an active part of each other’s life.”
“Of course,” I said, turning to look out the window so I could wipe away the tears welling up in the corner of my eyes before she noticed. Just like with Marisol. Maybe she’d give me updates on the awesome person she’ll eventually meet out there too. I knew I was being ridiculous and wallowing in self-pity but man, slings and arrows and all that. Surrendering to the inevitable, I grabbed a napkin and blew my nose, dabbing under my sunglasses at the same time. An uneasy silence fell between us as she turned onto a busy four-lane road boasting a number of gas stations and stores.
_Welcome to Miller’s Bluff,_ I thought. _You’re going to need to be one hell of a town to make this the best weekend ever._