“Who’s heart? If he wants to risk it, let him.”
“Everyone’s heart, Nate! Everyone’s! That’s what happens when people you love make bad decisions and you’re left standing as the only responsible person in the room, no matter how much you wish you could say, ‘Fuck it! I think I’ll skip work and go to Paris tomorrow—that sounds like a shitload of fun!’”
Nate stood and put his hands out in a “let’s placate the crazy person so she doesn’t shoot” manner. “Okay, I can see I’ve touched a big nerve and you’re getting emotional. Let’s take a step back—”
“Emotional? Emotional?! Oh, so now I’m just the hormonal female fucking things up by bringing feelings into it. Oh, and I probably have PMS too so obviously my opinions are invalid!”
“That’s not what I said and you know it!” He was starting to get pissed. I should accuse him of having PMS.
This was getting way out of hand. “I can’t talk to you right now. I think you should leave.”
“Come on, Laney. This is crazy!”
Tears pricked my eyes. “Of course it’s crazy—the entire world seems to have turned inside out and I’m the only one making any sense!” I physically turned him around and started pushing him to the door. “Please just go. I can’t handle any more of this right now.”
“I don’t want to leave things like this, Laney,” he protested but let me lead him, even though he certainly possessed the strength to stay put.
I started to cry. I couldn’t help it. “I can’t … I just … I need you to leave me alone for now.”
I think the tears did him in because he finally caved. “I’ll go home but we’re going to talk tomorrow and work this out.”
I continued to push him out. All I could do was shake my head. My mind was so discombobulated and the tears wouldn’t stop. I felt my heart breaking but I wasn’t entirely sure of the source.
“I am so sorry! I had to go to Raleigh for one of the charities—my mother guilted me into it—and everything was so last minute. Gary was pissed so I’m probably fired, but that’s actually a good thing. He was starting to flirt with me and you know I don’t go there. I’ve got something else lined up anyway, I think. So I ended up spending the night because my dad got off work and we all went out to dinner. One wine led to another and I stayed at the hotel where the function was. So, what did I miss?” Fiona chattered over the phone.
I laughed but it held no humor at all.
“Oh no! What happened?”
“I have no idea. I mean, I do, but I don’t. I think my brother is moving to Virginia and I think Nate and I may have broken up.” The tears started again for the tenth time since last night. I’d had to call Charlotte for emergency babysitting this morning because I didn’t want Rocco to see me upset—so at least I was by myself while I cried my eyes out. Two nights without sleep and with too many tears—I was shriveling up like a raisin.
“What? No! That can’t be true,” Fiona protested.
I proceeded to tell her everything I knew, ending with me shoving Nate out the door.
“You really told him you loved him?”
“That’s all you took from that whole saga?” I sniffled
“Of course not, but I wanted to focus on the good stuff.”
“There is no good stuff. And to top it all off, if I broke up with Nate and Gavin is leaving, I’m essentially stripping my poor kid of his two best friends. Just hand me my ‘Mother of the Year’ award right now,” I sobbed.
“Oh stop. All of this can be fixed. Just listen to your fairy godmother, Fiona, and it will all be okay.”
She proceeded to calm me down a bit and try to put things in perspective a little better. My exhausted mind wasn’t working very well, but some of what she said started to make a little sense.
“You and Nate did not break up. What you did was have a fight—all couples have fights—and once you patch things up you get to have hot make-up sex. I’ve known you for years and when you get going there is no stopping you—you’re sort of like a Housewife in that sense—I hate to be the one to break it to you.”
“Hey—that’s mean. You’re supposed to be making me feel better.”
“Oh shut up—you know it’s true. Now, listen. I love you and I only want the best for you and Rocco. You’ve not had the easiest time of it, but I need to lay it out for you, Laney, so please don’t be mad at me.”
“Oh God—what? Is this the part where you tell me I’m not always 100% right?”
“Yes it is, girl, and you can handle it so here goes.” She took a deep breath and dug in. “I think the reason you get so worked up over Gavin and his admittedly sketchy life choices is that you may be projecting a little bit. You’re not happy with some of the choices you’ve made, and after you beat yourself up a bit, you tend to turn it around on him. Maybe you’re reluctant to treat him with more patience and compassion because you can’t stop being mad at yourself for your mistakes and decisions that didn’t work out too well.”
I could picture her perfectly on the other end of the phone. She undoubtedly had her bottom lip between her teeth and her eyes were squeezed shut. I couldn’t speak as I tried to process what she said and not throw the phone down.
Silence. My wheels turned for another minute.
“Fiona?”
“Yeah?” Her voice was barely audible.
“Did you just fucking Dr. Phil me, you little whore?!”
“Maybe.” Her voice went up an octave.
“Aw hell. I’m gonna have to grow some lady balls and dish out some apologies, aren’t I?”
“That would be my recommendation, yes.” Her normal tone returned. “But I don’t think you’re wrong about Gavin needing to man up. I think you just need to adjust your sensitivity level a touch. And maybe we should both stop calling him an idiot so much. I think maybe ‘bonehead’ sounds more supportive. No—I’ve got it—we can call him a ‘boob.’ It gets the message across but will give him happy thoughts!”
“Have I told you lately how much I love you? Or how weird you are?” I was actually smiling at this point—a minor miracle given the last couple days.
“No, but it’s a given. So, if you’re feeling a little better, I have some phone calls to make and a couple errands to run.”
“What are you planning, Fiona?” My back prickled with apprehension.
“Never you mind. Like I said, let your fairy godmother take care of it.” And then she hung up on me.
Chapter Nineteen
Hangovers and Soft Underbellies
NATE
“You should always listen to me, man. Getting serious with a chick? Not worth it.” Mark took a deep swallow of his beer before setting it back on the table. When he’d seen what a pathetic mess I was this afternoon, he convinced me that a night out drinking and playing pool at Jake’s was just what I needed. I was pretty sure I was wasted because Mark was beginning to make a lot of sense.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. I bet I could get a girl here to go home with me and she wouldn’t get all emotional and bat-shit crazy.” I looked around the bar half-heartedly for a suitable woman. Ah, shit. What did it matter? None of them was the one I wanted.
“Dude, I hope for your sake you didn’t tell Laney she was bat-shit crazy.”
“No way. I’m not that stupid.” I took another swig of my beer. “I may have called her emotional though.”
Mark threw his head back with a maniacal laugh. “That’s even worse. I can’t believe how ignorant you are. That’s like rule number one on the list of things never to say to a woman you want to nail.”
“You’re such a romantic, Mark. I can’t believe you don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Believe it, man. That’s the last thing I need. Keep it light, keep it fun, and keep it comin’—that’s my motto.” He toasted me and I toasted him right back, though my heart wasn’t really in it.
“Well, would you look at this.” A familiar voice joined in. I turned my head and, after it stopped spinning, I saw Gavin and his friend Brett by our table, beers in hand. “I didn’t think I’d see you here tonight. I figured you’d be hanging with Laney and the little man. I’m still a bit scared to go home so I’ve been hanging at Brett’s.”
I gave Gavin the fakest smile I could muster. “I want to kill you.”
“What did I do?”
“I think Laney broke up with me. I may have defended you and in the process broken some unspoken rule about siding with siblings in an argument. It’s all quite … fuzzy.”
“Shit. Are you serious?” He cocked his head.
“It’s either that or she’s insane,” I offered.
“Ah, I’d go with insane.”
“Unfortunately, it doesn’t matter if she’s crazy or not because I’m in love with her.” My filter-less, alcohol-addled brain prompted my mouth to speak.
“Dude,” said Brett.
“Fuck,” said Gavin.
“Christ on a bike—seriously?” said Mark.
“Yup,” was my response to them all.
Everyone was quiet, contemplating the fucked-up nature of my situation. We all took a swig of our beers.
“All right.” Gavin moved first. “Let’s fix this.” He took hold of my arm and tried to pull me from my barstool. The world tilted a little. Hmm, that was odd. “Shit, you’re wasted, aren’t you?”
“It seems that way.”
“Okay, I’m driving you home and we’ll go to Laney’s in the morning and iron all this out. You got a couch I can crash on?” He supported me and led me toward the door.
“Yup, and according to your sister, what it lacks in style it makes up for in comfort, if I’m remembering that correctly.”