We started laughing as Pick leaned down to kiss his wife.
I thought it was sweet how those two managed to still be crazy about each other after so many years. But saying as much would just be sappy. So instead, I went with, “Hey, get a room, you two. You keep kissing her like that and she’s gonna get pregnant a second time, and then you’ll have twins.”
They laughed, then Bruce talked Pick into playing a game of foosball, leaving Lisa and me alone again. I thought she was going to press me for more details about Trip, but instead she surprised me when she said, “I gotta say, you’ve been like the old you again. You haven’t been you for a long time, you know. But I like how funny you are when you’re happy.”
It was an unexpected revelation, but the fact was, I was happy.
I mean, God. I had a wonderful fiancé, and I was only a few short hours away from inevitable career success. I was young, I was healthy, I was out with some of my favorite people, and I had just reconnected with an old friend. What was there to be unhappy about?
“Thanks. Hey, you sure you want to drive all the way home tonight? You just have to be back here for lunch tomorrow.”
“Well, that’s kind of why I’m bothering. What are we going to do with Pick and Bruce all day while we’re out? Besides, Pick’s too damn tall for a normal bed, much less that futon. I’ll just come back in. It’s no big deal.”
*
I staggered into my living room and collapsed onto the futon, spent. It was close to four, and I figured it was pretty likely that I had officially messed up my internal clock after two late nights in a row.
There were no messages on my machine (I’d checked as soon as I got in the door), and I deflated a bit when I realized that Trip hadn’t called. I wasn’t very proud of myself for that.
My body was exhausted, but my mind was actually feeling pretty wired. I considered cracking open Sheldon’s Best Laid Plans, but my eyes wouldn’t focus. I tried watching TV, but infomercials weren’t really cutting it. I grabbed the half-eaten canister of Pringles off the coffee table—thanks, Bruce—and dove in, ignoring the crumbs that were gathering in my cleavage as I sacked out, half-drunk and slouched in my seat.
I finally face-planted into a throw pillow, too lazy to make the trek to my bedroom. I was on the verge of catapulting into a glorious, beer-induced slumber when the phone rang. I opted to ignore it, assuming it was Lisa’s obligatory call letting me know she got the troops home safely. But when my machine clicked on, an achingly familiar voice was suddenly echoing around my small apartment.
I bolted upright.
“Hey, Lay-Lay. Did you know that the blue that accents every TRU hotel is officially called Wilmington Blue? Yeah. My father had the color specifically created just for his hotels.” Trip snickered casually, as though calling someone in the middle of the night to share some random trivia was a completely normal thing to do. “Anyway, I’m just lying here, thinking about last night, kinda outta my head. Why don’t you ever answer the phone?”
I stared at the cordless handset, right there on the side table, just inches from my grasp. It wouldn’t have taken much. Just a slight shift of my hand and I could’ve picked it up and stopped the recording. But who knows what could happen? What secrets of the heart would I divulge to the man who made it ache? Half-drunk and nostalgic was no way to find yourself on the phone with your ex-boyfriend when your fiancé was clear across the country. What if Trip tried to see me again? In that state, I didn’t think I’d be strong enough to tell him no.
“Hey. Remember Homecoming night? When I came to your house after the dance? Do you remember what I told you?”
My heart clenched, fracturing just the slightest bit as the long-repressed memory resurfaced.
“I told you that you were completely different from any other person I’ve ever met. Remember? The thing of it is… the thing of it is, Lay… is that that’s the truth. It was then, and it’s maybe even more true now.”
My hand flew to my mouth, and then I froze. He was leaving the message for me, yet somehow, listening to it managed to make me feel like I was eavesdropping.
“I just want to talk to you some more. We can do this, you know. We can be friends. I mean, can’t we? We’ve always been… Jesus, Lay. We’ve always been really good at that. At being friends. I always knew I could count on you. I still know that. Don’t ask me how. I just know.” He gave a little chuckle and added, “Unless, of course, you’ve managed to flay me alive with that article of yours. Damn. Maybe I’m speaking too soon.”
Despite my inner turmoil, a smile edged its way across my lips.