By the time I pull into the underground parking lot at work, I’m in a murderous mood. I lock myself in my office and force myself to focus on business for two hours, until Scotty knocks on my door with an inter-office memo.
I remove the sheet of paper and read what’s written there. Then I take a black marker and write a single word in giant block letters over Shay’s handwriting.
NO.
Seething with frustration from the two phone calls and what’s seeming more and more like a hopeless fantasy about having any kind of workable relationship with Shay, I thrust the envelope back at Scotty and lock myself inside my office for the rest of the day.
Shay
I’m excited to see Scotty appear in my office doorway with the brown kraft envelope in his hand. That excitement lasts until I pull the sheet of paper out, and I see Cole’s response.
A big black NO scrawled across my note like a middle finger.
“Do you have anything for me to return?” asks Scotty, lingering in the doorway.
I force a smile and look at him. “No, but thanks. Have a good day.”
“You too.”
He leaves, taking my self-esteem with him.
In my note, I asked if we could schedule a meeting for this week. “Meeting” being code for quickie in the stairwell. I was feeling flirtatious and upbeat when I sent it, full of hope after this morning that this thing between us wasn’t already over like I thought it was last night, but Cole put the kibosh on all that hope and happiness with two letters.
He didn’t even bother to sign his name. Probably because he didn’t have a good mindfuck closing that meant “Get lost.” Not that he needed it. I got the point.
He changed his mind again.
We’re not going to be together.
Or he decided once and for all, I don’t know which because the man doesn’t know how to communicate except when he’s recounting how he followed me to a restaurant and ordered his buddy to spy on me over security cameras. The rest of the time, it’s vague references to ominous outcomes and cryptic statements that could mean anything or nothing.
Unless we’re having sex. Then he miraculously becomes a professional orator.
I shred the note, then sit at my desk until I’ve lost the urge to smash something. It’s replaced by the urge to cry, which I refuse to give in to, so I bury myself in work.
By five o’clock, I’ve almost convinced myself the hurt, anger, and irrational desire to light Cole McCord on fire are all feelings created by the proximity of my period, which should be arriving any day.
I’ve always been good at denial.
The rest of that week goes by with no contact from Cole.
No inter-office memos, no emails complaining about an error in a report, nothing. Chelsea’s advice is to give him space and focus on myself. We can’t get together to hash it out because the hospital is short-staffed. She’s working back-to-back shifts, and when she’s not working, she’s exhausted.
The office chatter about Dylan dies out. There are no news reports or newspaper articles about a missing accountant. Simone doesn’t mention him again. Life goes on as it did before, except now, I’m obsessing over Cole the way he said he obsessed over me.
I have dinner on Friday with Jen and Angel, but as neither of them knows anything about the Cole situation, I suffer in silence.
I distract myself over the weekend by binge-watching TV, cleaning the apartment from top to bottom, taking four CrossFit classes at the gym, and teaching myself how to make pasta from scratch. The resulting linguini noodles taste like glue, so I throw them out and order takeaway from a Thai food place.
Sunday night, my mother calls.
“Hi, honey. It’s me. Mom.”
She has to add that last part because when I picked up the phone and heard her voice, I was so surprised, I was speechless.
She never calls me. Never. I’m always the one to call and check on her, and then only rarely because it’s so damn depressing.
“Hi, Mom. Is everything okay?”
Her laugh is small and nervous. “Yeah, I think so.”
I’m instantly on guard. “You think so? What does that mean? Did Bob do something? Are you hurt?”
“No, no, honey, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You sound strange.”
She laughs again. I picture her standing in her tiny kitchen in her apartment in Vegas, her thin bleach-blonde hair in a messy bun, a cigarette burned down to a stub between her fingers.
As soon as one goes out, she lights another. She never started smoking until her marriage to Dad broke up, but after that, she became a chimney.
“That’s probably because I haven’t had a drink in a few days.”
I was standing in the living room when I answered, about to dust the coffee table again, but this news is so unexpected, I sit down on the sofa. “Really? That’s great.”
“Yeah, I just…I don’t know, it seemed like a good time to make a new start what with Bob leaving and all.”
My heart leaps. “Bob left you?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened? Did you have another fight?”
“No, he just up and left. Never came home from the casino one night. I figure he got himself a new woman. Only reason that man would disappear on me is for another woman. She probably has more social security coming in than I do.”
Her raspy laugh is interrupted by a cough.
I’m overjoyed by the news that Bob left, but try not to get my hopes up. They’ve broken up before, only to get back together soon after.
But the no-drinking thing is new. The last time he left, she drank herself into a stupor. Her neighbor found her passed out on her porch, lit cigarette in hand, and called an ambulance.
“Do you need anything? Money? Food? I can Venmo you some cash if you need it.”
“I’m fine, sweetie, but you’re a doll for offering. As long as I’ve got my ciggies and Mr. Bones, I’m all set.”
“What’s Mr. Bones? Is that a new show or something?”
“No, it’s not a show. It’s a cat. A stray I found behind the dumpster here at my place. He was all skin and bones when I found him, so I named him Mr. Bones. He’s sitting on my lap right now. Here, say hi to him.”
I hear some fumbling noises, then the low, distinct drone of a cat’s purr. Mom comes back on the line, sounding proud.
“Isn’t he cute? Did you say hi? I think you’d love him. You’ve always loved cats. Remember that mangy orange thing we had when you were little?”
“Scooby Doo,” I say, dazed.
She got a cat? She’s sober? Who is this woman?
She laughs. “I told your father I was allergic, but really I just didn’t like that cat. He always looked so judgmental. Mr. Bones isn’t judgmental at all. He’s a sweetie pie. You’re my best friend, aren’t you, buddy?”
She makes some kissy noises while I attempt to piece my brain back together.
“Mom, I’m so happy for you. It’s really good you have a companion.”
“Other than that loser, Bob, you mean,” she says drily. When I don’t say anything, she sighs. “I know you never liked him, honey. That’s okay. I never liked him much myself.” Her voice turns melancholy. “Sometimes we hold onto things we shouldn’t because we’re lonely.”
Unless you’re Cole, who uses loneliness like a shield to keep everyone away.
“I just want you to be safe, Mom. Safe and happy.”
“Well, I have to tell you, honey, I’ve been happier these past few days being alone here with Mr. Bones than I’ve been in years. I think I’m gonna start going for walks around the complex. Maybe eating a few vegetables too. Do something good for myself.”
I’m getting choked up. I swallow, blinking away tears, and force my voice to stay even. “That’s great to hear.”
“How are you doing? How’s work?”
“I got a new job since we last talked.”
“Oh, good for you! Do you like it?”
“It’s…challenging.”
She laughs again. “And a good thing too, or you’d get bored. That big brain of yours needs a challenge. You still with what’s-his-name? Chad?”
“Chet. And no, we broke up.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, honey.”
“It’s for the best. He turned out to be a cheating asshole.”
She clucks her tongue. “There aren’t many men like your father, that’s for sure.” She sighs heavily. “Biggest mistake of my life was leaving him. Have you spoken to him lately?”