Yeah, it’s still there.
I slam the drawer shut. Because I won’t give the asshole the satisfaction of reading it.
NOVEMBER
The first weekend of November I get a call from Rachel. She sounds so happy and so far away. As we say how much we miss each other and I ask her about her honeymoon and she tells me all about the places they’ve gone, I wonder if I’ll ever even leave Chicago. Or better yet, leave Chicago with a guy, just because we’re each other’s best person to spend time with on Earth.
She asks me if I’ll be going to Wynn’s gallery exhibition this weekend.
I tell her I can’t go, that I’m working overtime, which is partly true. She drills me for more information, so I say I’m making house calls now, and that I spent all Halloween doing monster faces, which was fun.
“Have you seen Tahoe and Callan? What are those two up to now that my guy is gone?”
“Mischief,” I say. “Tahoe keeps asking me to one of his lacrosse games.”
“Yeah, he told Saint he can’t wear you down. He really wants you to go!” She laughs.
We talk a bit more, and I hang up the phone, increasingly unhappy about not going to his games, not feeling the relief I thought I’d feel by avoiding him. Instead I’m dissatisfied and curious, wondering what he’d say or do if I showed up.
*
For the past three weeks, Trent has been asking me out every Saturday. I hesitated at first but I finally decided I want to see where this leads, so I’ve said yes all three times.
I glance around my apartment while Trent snores in my bed.
We could work out.
For the first time in a long time, I think I have a shot.
I pull my knees to my chest and stare at him. I feel much more relaxed now about us and the sex. It was good. I get up and hurry to make breakfast, trying to make the tray as pretty as I can, the breakfast as perfect as I can.
I suppose I could chalk it up to the smidge of guilt I felt last night when occasionally I got distracted during sex and thought of…well. You know.
I wish my best friend were in town, so she could remind me of all the things she knows from Saint about Tahoe that bug me. There are so many things but right now I cannot name any except one: the girls he always hangs out with.
Again, I wonder why he’s good enough for them, but not for me.
“Back in bed, Regina,” Trent yells from the bedroom as I finish fixing up the tray.
I bring it over. “I hope you like eggs.”
“Ahhh, no, I’m vegan.” He frowns. “Haven’t you noticed?” I look down at the tray I made and want to just drop it and dip my face in a tub of water out of pure embarrassment. I’ve been going out with him for a few weeks and I hadn’t noticed he never ordered meat or dairy?
I hate admitting it but I thought it was because he’s a bit of a pinchpenny, to the point I’ve started ordering only appetizers as main dishes too.
“No worries, come here. Let’s have another go.” He lifts the sheets.
“I’d like that. Yes.” I set the tray aside grudgingly, trying to work up the enthusiasm for morning sex.
“I’m one hundred percent sure I’m not messing up with the condom this time either,” he says sheepishly.
“Good, ’cause I don’t want to go through that again.”
*
He asks me to the movies that weekend. After a full day of work, I’m starving as we walk into the movie theater. I order a medium popcorn and a Coke, and then I follow Trent into the theater and settle next to him to watch the movie. We end up sharing the popcorn as we watch the film, and I realize I haven’t had a nice evening like this in a long time.
THE SAINTS
I focus on work the following week. The streets are cold and we get our first consecutive days of nonstop rain. It’s really dreary to be alone in my apartment so during the day, I hardly go there anymore. I have lunch with colleagues or friends—even Rachel’s friend Valentine. I’ve also been working nonstop, putting in extra shifts and adding more house calls to my schedule.
I get a call from Rachel one morning while at work.
“Gina!! We’re flying back to Chicago as we speak! Oh my god, when am I gonna see you? Are you free tonight? Wait. I need to unpack.”
“That’s not even an issue, I’ll head over to your place and I’ll help you unpack.”
I’m excited to see Rachel.
That evening, I head over to the Saints’ new penthouse. Wynn has another gallery opening tonight, so it’s just me.
Rachel and I spend the first hour just talking while she unpacks. She tells me about their honeymoon. Their new penthouse is so grand and beautiful, I get easily distracted.