"What are you talking about? You were there for me from the moment I found out."
"Yes, but you didn't want my help. It was a struggle to even talk to you. You were so angry you broke the damn kitchen table. Don't you remember that?"
"Yeah, but I don't remember not talking to you."
"It was a difficult time, for all of us. Just like I'm sure it is for this girl."
"Which is why I'm giving her space."
"Just don't give her too much space. Sometimes people who are stuck need a little push. You certainly did." He pauses. "Anyway, I just wanted to see how things are going with the house."
"Good. I'm about a week ahead of schedule."
"Does that mean you'll be moving back sooner than September?"
"I'm not sure. It's too soon to tell." Honestly, if all goes as planned, the house will be done by the third week of August. But I don't want to hurry back to Chicago. I don't want to leave Callie.
"Anything else going on?" he asks.
I shouldn't tell him, but then I do. "I found photos of Mom in one of the boxes."
He's quiet, then says, "How many?"
"Just two so far. She was a teenager in one of them and probably around 20 in the other one. She was pretty."
"Yes. She was."
I wait for him to say more but he doesn't.
"Well, I should get going," I say.
"I'll talk to you soon."
"Bye, Dad."
Just as I end the call, my phone rings again. "Hello?"
"Nash. It's Katie."
"How'd you get this number?"
"It's not that hard to get a phone number." She sounds annoyed, but then switches to what she considers her sexy voice, which is slightly lower. "So I want you to meet me at The Grand tonight." The Grand is a historic hotel along the river in a town about twenty minutes from here. "Some friends and I are having a party there, and afterward I'll have my own private room for the night."
"I'm not interested."
"But there's going to be—"
"I said I'm not interested. And don't call me again. Goodbye, Katie." I hang up and hear a knock at the door. It must be Callie. Maybe she wants to go to the bar with me. I hope so. I miss spending time with her. I want things to go back to how they were before.
"Hey, Cal—" I stop when I open the door and see it's not Callie. It's Marissa. You've gotta be freaking kidding me. What the hell is she doing here? Wearing a tight black dress and heels?
"Nash!" She hugs me, her perfume overwhelming me. Did she always wear that much perfume? "I've missed you."
I pull her off me. "What are you doing here?"
"I told you I was coming."
"And I told you not to come."
"You didn't mean it." She saunters past me. "So is this the house?"
No, I'm just living in someone else's house. Seriously, what kind of question is that?
"This is it." I hold my arms out. "What do you think?"
The living room isn't as cluttered anymore, but it still looks like shit, which is why I'll be tackling it next, after I finish the kitchen.
"It's um...very quaint."
"And who doesn't love quaint?" I'm being sarcastic but it's hard to be polite when she just shows up here after I told her not to.
She sets her purse down on the coffee table. "You look good, Nash." She smiles. "Really good."
I know that smile and that tone. She came here for sex.
"So you broke up with your boyfriend?"
"Not completely, but it's basically over." She slinks over to me and runs her hands over my chest. "I always loved your body."
I take her hands and pull them off me. "We're not having sex, so if that's why you came here, you need to leave."
She frowns. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
"That's none of your business. We're not together anymore."
"You must not, or you'd be out with her tonight." She smiles. "Come on. Just one night? Think of it as a little reunion."
"It's not happening. You need to leave." I take her hand and lead her to the door.
She yanks her hand from mine. "I can't drive back in the dark! It's dangerous. I could get killed."
"You should've thought of that before you left to come down here. Use your headlights. You'll be fine."
"You'd really make me drive home this late? After what happened to Beth or Bella or whatever her name was?"
Marissa used to say some inappropriate things, but not remembering the name of my dead best friend? That's just wrong. I dated Marissa for two years. She knows Becky's name. She's just being a bitch to get back at me for sending her home. I must've been in a coma when I was dating this girl, and on some mind-altering drug when I proposed to her.
"Her name was Becky. And she died in the afternoon. It wasn't dark. All things you already know because I've told you the story many times."
"Still, I can't drive home in the dark. I have to stay here."
I can't have her staying here. What if Callie sees her? I don't want her thinking I'm back with Marissa. I'm still hoping I have a chance with Callie. She's all I can think about. The only girl I want.
Cat walks into the room and rubs against my leg.
Marissa jumps back. "You have a cat?"
I smile, remembering she's allergic to cats.