Four Letter Word
Page 6

“I know. I know. Just hear me out. Don’t yell at me yet.” She sat the bag of pretzels down and turned her body, angling herself toward me. She tucked a chunk of hair behind her ear. “I’ve always liked Marcus. You know that. But I think he kind of dulled you out a little, hon.”
I narrowed my eyes at her.
“Dulled me out? What does that mean?”
She motioned at me. “You weren’t you with him. I don’t know. You two were always so serious together. It was like the guy couldn’t take a joke.”
I shrugged. “So what?”
“So what?” she repeated, sitting up on her knees. “I never saw you laugh with him, Syd. I mean, you two seemed happy, otherwise I would’ve said something to you, but …it was like you weren’t friends at all. You were just married. He never played with you.”
I slid my hand around my neck and squeezed while my eyes lost focus on the carpet.
I couldn’t dispute what Tori was saying. Marcus wasn’t really a playful guy, but I never needed him to be. He always, up until recent months, made me feel like I was the only woman he ever saw. He was affectionate, most of the time, and caring. He supported and encouraged me through college. I didn’t need him to joke around or make me laugh. That wasn’t important. I just needed him to love me. And he did.
He just didn’t anymore.
Tori sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to upset you further, it’s just …I’ve known you forever. I know the person you are when we’re together. You’re silly and a complete nut. Remember how we met? Seventh grade? You told me your name was Tori, too, because you wanted us to be best friends and you thought it would happen faster if we had the same name?”
I smiled faintly.
“Had you calling me that for a week,” I said.
“I know.” Tori laughed. “I yelled at everyone who called you Sydney. Even teachers.” She nudged my shoulder with hers. “I’m just saying, I missed that girl when Marcus was around. That’s all.”
She said those final two words on a shrug.
I slid down farther and rested my head on the cushion, staring up at the ceiling.
Tori joined me, putting herself into a similar pose.
After a minute or two of silence, I finally responded.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe Marcus and I weren’t friends. Maybe we didn’t play with each other and laugh all the time. But you know what? It doesn’t matter anymore. Whatever we were, he no longer wants it. He’s done. And I need to think about my life without him, starting with finding a job around here.”
“Oh, I got you covered on that.”
“You do?”
I stared at her profile. I had no idea what she was driving at.
She tilted her head to the side and smiled.
“Hell yeah I do. Come work with me at Whitecaps until you find an x-ray job.”
“As a waitress?”
“Yep. Nate will work you into the schedule no problem. He’s cool. And I’ll make sure he puts us on the same shifts.” She slapped my knee and stood, stretching her arms above her head with a yawn. “I’m beat. Do you need help bringing the rest of your stuff in?”
“Nah, I got it. When do you think I could talk to Nate about getting a job?”
I got on my feet to join her, both of us grabbing a bottle and the trash from the snacks we’d devoured during our conversation.
We carried our handfuls to the kitchen.
“Tomorrow,” she answered, holding the lid of the trash can open for me. She then took the unfinished bottle of moscato and recorked it before sticking it into the refrigerator. “We’ll take a drive down to Whitecaps and get you set up. I’m sure he’ll want you to start immediately. We just had someone quit last week.”
“It’ll only be until I find an x-ray job. Are you sure he won’t mind if it’s temporary?”
I knew some managers frowned upon hiring someone who wasn’t willing to stick around. I wouldn’t blame Nate for being hesitant about bringing me on, and I would never keep my motives from him. I could very easily find a job in a couple weeks and leave them short staffed.
On the other hand, it could take me months to find an x-ray position here locally.
Tori placed her hands on my shoulders, gently squeezing. Her eyes got soft.
“You know you don’t have to jump right into something. You could take a few weeks to relax—”
I cut her off.
“I need to work, Tori. I can’t just sit around here. I’ll go crazy.”
Crazy thinking about how I was suddenly single for the first time in seven years, and how I’m going to be divorced—divorced—before my twenty-fifth birthday.
Crazy thinking about what I could’ve possibly done to cause this, or to prevent it.
Crazy.
This didn’t feel like my life.
Tori stepped back, dropping her hands with a nod and a smile.
“Okay. You know what’s best for you. And you’ll like it there. Trust me.” Mischief danced in her eyes.
I could only imagine what she meant by that.
“I’m heading to bed. Pick a room, any room. It’s yours.”
“Tori, wait.”
She stopped almost to the stairs, gazing back over her shoulder.
“We’ve done nothing but talk about me all night. Are you okay, with Wes and everything?”
It took her a second, but a ghost of a smile tugged at her mouth.
“Getting there. I mean, it hurts, but you’re here. That’ll help. I know I’ll be okay.” She winked at me before climbing the stairs. “Night, roomie,” she called out.
I stood in the silence of the kitchen for a minute, maybe more, wondering when I could be okay, too.
* * *
I couldn’t remember falling asleep last night.
I couldn’t remember the slow drift of weightlessness that takes over your body when your mind is quiet.
I couldn’t remember relaxing at all in the most comfortable bed I’d ever lain on.
I did, however, remember calling my mother and filling her in on my eventful evening after I carried my suitcases inside. I also unfortunately remembered her sweetly paired “I told you so’s” and “God hates divorce” rantings in my ear.
She was never a huge fan of Marcus, for reasons she never expanded on, but more so, she thought my choice to leave him and move in with Tori, instead of staying and working things out with Marcus, was disappointing.
Disappointing. I disappointed her.
That hurt.
The conversation with my mother was kept brief. I made up an excuse and got off the phone while she was in the middle of yet another spiritual lecture, and I readied myself for bed.
I remembered hitting the soft, billowy mattress and wiping the tears from my eyes.
I remembered flipping my pillow over when I soaked the satin.
I remembered the peaceful hum of the fan spinning overhead, the clock on the wall ticking away the seconds of my misery, and the faint sounds of waves crashing outside my window, and how all of it, every calming noise, irritated me to no end.
But clearing my mind enough to welcome sleep? No. That I couldn’t remember at all.
I woke in a tangle of sheets and blankets, my hair matted and soaked with sweat. My nightshirt twisted on my torso.