Anything Less Than Everything Page 8
He picked up before the first ring finished. “Hey,” he said, his voice husky. Had he been crying?
“Hi,” I answered. I wasn’t sure where to go next, if I should ask him to explain himself or make him do all the talking. He jumped in before I had the chance to decide.
“I didn’t send those texts, Brooke.”
“That probably wasn’t you in the pictures, either, was it?” It was a quick jab, one that no doubt caught him off guard. But I had to say it before I started to believe him about the texts.
“No, that was me. Though I didn’t even know they were being taken. Not that it matters.”
“So who sent them, then?” I asked. The thing was, the more I thought about it, the less likely it seemed Aaron sent them. Not just because he wouldn’t do that, but because the grammar and tone didn’t resemble his other texts.
“I think the girl in the pictures did. If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll try to prove it to you. Then I’ll try to explain myself and you can decide what happens next. But please hear me out.” I didn’t say anything, which he took as agreement.
“I’m going to do something that will make me look worse than the person you think I am right now, but I have to prove this to you. Hang on. I have to get a number from my contacts.”
I heard him clicking buttons on his phone, then him dialing from the land line on speaker phone.
GIRL: Hey, you! I was wondering when you’d call.
AARON: Someone sent text messages, including a picture of us, from my phone the other night. Any idea who that might have been?
GIRL: Well. So much for pleasantries. I guess that was me. So what?
AARON: So what? My best friend thought those were from me.
GIRL: Oops. I saw the name Brooke and assumed it was an old girlfriend. I was just marking my territory. (Giggles. Gag.)
AARON: You may have ruined the best thing in my life. You had no right to take my phone, no right to butt into my life like that.
GIRL: What? So you’d choose a friend over something more with me?
AARON: Every. Single. Time. I never said or did anything to make you think I was interested. I tolerated you clinging to me all night because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but I really don’t care anymore.
GIRL: How dare you--
I heard a click, and the line went dead.
“You still there, Brooke?”
“Yes,” I said softly.
“I would never, never let you go for some trashed sorority chick.”
“I’m your best friend?”
He sighed. “Yeah, you are. Did you really think I sent those messages? I thought you knew me better than that.” He didn’t sound mad or accusing, but hurt definitely laced his words.
“I do, I mean--it’s just everyone keeps telling me how I can’t possibly know you as well as I think I do, that I’m going to get hurt. And then Marcie found the pictures online right before I found those texts...”
“And it all just came together,” he said flatly.
“I’m sorry, Aaron. I’m so, so sorry.” That’s when the tears started.
“Shhh. It’s okay, Brooke. Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. Shhh.” He let me cry for awhile. Not for the first time, I wished he was with me, that he could hug me and tell me everything would be okay. But that led me to thoughts of “more than friends,” thoughts that partially got me in this mess in the first place.
“I had no right to be jealous. Even if it had been what it looked like, you’re entitled to date whom you want.”
“Why in the world would you be jealous, Brooke?”
“Because I don’t want to lose you,” I said, my voice just above a whisper.
“You wouldn’t. I wish you would have fought more for us.” Those words stung. But I knew why I hadn’t.
“I’ve been left before; I wasn’t going to let it happen again.” I snapped my mouth shut at those words. I did not mean to say that--it was too much.
“But from what you’ve told me, you didn’t fight for that relationship, either.”
I could feel the anger in me rising. “Oh, so you wish I would have? Just like everyone else, you think I should have gone back to that--”
“No!” he cut me off. “But the truth is you had no idea about any of that the day Spencer dumped you, and yet you never asked for any type of an explanation. You just walked away from four years together.”
I had. I’d walked out of the restaurant that night and never looked back. Even finding out about the cheating had been a matter of coincidence. I guess I didn’t really want to know the reason Spencer was dumping me, preferring ignorance to hearing him tell me of my shortcomings. As for not trying to win him back, well, you can’t be rejected if you never try.
“Okay, I know that crossed the line. But, Brooke, you can’t just run away from me every time I make you mad. I think I’ve earned more than that.”
“But other girls...” I left off, afraid to say the words out loud.
“Can either accept you in my life or find someone else. You’re as non-negotiable as football or my sisters. Did you not hear what I said to her a few minutes ago? You are the best thing in my life. Period. I’m not leaving you.”
“I should have given you more credit,” I said sheepishly.
“Yes, you should have. But, it’s over now, okay? Just please don’t shut me out again. Even if you’re mad at me, at least answer the phone and tell me where to go. I was so worried that something had happened to you.”
“I won’t. I promise.” I was exhausted from not sleeping and crying and the emotion of the last few days, as was Aaron. We hung up after assurances from both of us that things were okay between us. I called Caryn and told her she was right and thanked her, then called Marcie and told her she was wrong, but that I was over being upset with her.
And then I tried to get the butterflies in my stomach that kept appearing at the mere mention of Aaron’s name to stop fluttering.
Chapter 12
I was up to my elbows in bathroom cleanser when I heard the familiar knock, knock, knock...pause...knock. knock. Mom. I rolled my eyes and rinsed my hands before hoisting myself up from the tile floor and going out to receive this unexpected guest.
She was midway into her second series of knocks when I opened the door. It took her a moment to right herself, and when she looked at me I thought the shock would make her stumble once again. “Oh! Brooke!” she said as she surveyed my disheveled state. “I should have called, obviously.” The last line was not an apology; it was a condemnation. My mother’s trademark.
“No, it’s fine, Mom,” I said, though, really, it was anything but. “I was just cleaning the bathrooms. Come on in.” I held the door open as she entered. She clutched her purse to her like some sort of security blanket, and eyed the room suspiciously. “So,” I said, trying to play nice, “what brings you here?” Besides looking for things to pick on me about.
“I was just out running some errands and thought I’d stop by,” she said, attempting a smile. “You haven’t been by to see us in forever--” Great, make this my fault. “Or called,” she finished. “So I thought I’d come to you. Is that not okay?”
Playing nice was going to be harder than I thought. But I could try. “Of course it is, Mom,” I said, sighing.
“Well,” she said after an awkward pause. “Things are really coming together here, aren’t they? All you need are some new drapes, maybe some different pillows...”
“They are new,” I said. “Caryn, my boss at Dwell helped me put it all together.” Leave it to my mother to find a way to insult me and Caryn--someone she’d never even laid eyes on--with one statement. “I like them,” I finished.
“Well of course you do,” she replied. She tried to make it sound like a recovery, but I heard the statement underneath her words: someone without taste would like them. She started back up again, completely unfazed by the look I shot her. “I don’t know why you’re working at that place, anyway.”
“But it’s retail, dear. She said the word like it tasted bad in her mouth. “You’re college educated. You’re better than retail.” I could not believe my mother was being so judgmental. She who single-handedly kept most shops in business.
“It’s just a summer job, Mom, not a career change,” I replied. “It keeps me busy, gives me some extra money.”
“Well, I just think there are better activities to keep you entertained,” she said. “Things that engage your mind.”
I didn’t try to hide the eye roll this time. “It does engage my mind. I get a chance to be creative in a way that’s different from teaching. It’s new, so it’s challenging. It’s fun.”
“But you don’t have to have a job to have fun,” she went on. “Fun is for after work. Like, dating perhaps.”
“And whom would you like me to date, Mom? Spencer?”
“Well what is wrong with that?” she said. “You two always made such a cute couple.”
“He broke up with me, Mother. His choice.” My voice rose in anger. “I wish you’d just come off it.” She looked like I’d slapped her, so shocked was the expression on her face. I never talked to her that way. Maybe I should have a long time ago.
“But perhaps it’s not too late to change his mind. Call him up. Ask him to meet you for coffee. Win him back. There’s still time to save face.”
And then I saw it: the reason my mother had been so insistent I get back together with Spencer had nothing to do with my feelings for him, the hurt I’d felt. It didn’t even have anything to do with his feelings for me. It had everything to do with her embarrassment at having a daughter who had been dumped.
“I don’t want to get back together with him. Was I hurt when it ended? Devastated. But it was the best thing he ever did for me. He was so wrong for me. Bad for me, even.”
“Maybe y’all just needed a break.” She obviously was not listening to a word I said. I stood up and headed back towards the bathroom. I was done.
“Ask Jill about Spencer’s idea of a break,” I said. “And lock the door when you leave.”
I didn’t call Aaron after my mother left. I wanted to, but I felt bad always running to him when my life hit a speed bump. I didn’t know how much drama he could take, especially after the week we’d had. Instead I met Marcie at the gym as promised. I ran five miles on the treadmill, exorcising some of my anger towards my mom with every footfall. Marcie kept looking over at me questioningly, but didn’t ask, and I didn’t volunteer. I had promised to tell her things like this, but I couldn’t at the moment. I wasn’t sure she’d get it.
After a shower and lunch, I went to Dwell, even though I wasn’t scheduled to work for a few days. Caryn looked up at the ringing bells on the door signaling my entrance.
“Hi, Brooke,” she said. She smiled, but sounded slightly confused. “You’re not working today, are you?”
“Not until Tuesday,” I said. “I just needed to get out of the house for awhile.” She looked at me, concern in her eyes. I hadn’t come to unload on her, but I couldn’t help it.
I exhaled. “My mother,” I said. “She came for a visit and tried to plan my life while she was there.”
Caryn didn’t flinch; she just nodded. “Mothers can be that way.”
“Do you have kids?” I couldn’t remember her saying anything about them, and there weren’t any telling pictures of them at her desk in the back room.
“No,” she said. “I think God knew I’d be the same way as your mother, so He just made it easier on everyone by not blessing me with any.” I tried to smile in a sympathetic way, but Caryn just laughed. “I really just didn’t want any, Brooke. You don’t have to look sad for me.” Had someone else said that, I would probably be embarrassed, but with Caryn her jokes put me at ease. “So,” she said. “What’s mama doing that’s so awful?”
“She’s trying to make me get back together with my cheating ex-boyfriend.” There. It was out. I hadn’t told many people about that. Jill knew, of course, and Aaron, but only because they witnessed the revelation. Even Marcie only knew the scantest of details.
“She wants her daughter dating someone who hurt her?” she asked slowly, trying to comprehend.
“Yep. She doesn’t actually know about the cheating, but I’ve made it clear that I’m happy to be rid of him. She doesn’t care, though. He fit into her perfect plan for my life. I guess she’s trying to keep all the puzzle pieces together.”
“Well, she’s obviously lost sight of the picture on the front of the box, though, hasn’t she? I’m sure she wants you to be happy, Brooke, but it sounds like she’s trying to fit together pieces that just don’t go.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I feel like I’ve spent most of my life trying to be the person she wanted me to be. It’s no wonder I changed for Spencer, too. I even changed for my girlfriends. I think I’ve been whomever everybody who entered my life wanted me to be--”
I cut off my words suddenly before I said what I knew was coming next.
“Except?” It was though Caryn could read my mind. I gave her a look that I hoped showed innocent confusion, but she didn’t buy it. “Oh, come on, Brooke. You were about to say something. Out with it.”
I gave in. “Except for Aaron,” I said.
“I’m glad you two worked things out,” she said. “But you said you were just friends...”
“We are. He’s my best friend.” I’d felt he was becoming that, even before he’d said it. Now that he had, I was becoming more comfortable with saying out loud. “He’d never try to change me,” I continued. “If anything, he does everything to try to make me be more of myself.”
“Sounds to me like he should be the one you’re dating,” she said with a knowing smile.
“It’s not like that,” I said.
“Well, then you need to find a guy just like him. Any guy you’re with should love you, not who he can make you into, or even who you’re willing to become for him.” Aaron probably had all fifty-six qualities I wanted, and some I didn’t even know were important to me. But, I was pretty sure he was one in a million. No--one of a kind. The image of us on the swing popped into my head, and I quickly swatted it away. I was not going there. Not now. After all that had happened in the past week, I was feeling sort of vulnerable, a little reserved with what I was willing to share.
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” she said, a kind smile on her face. “You’ll find someone. Probably when you aren’t even looking for him.” I nodded, but I wasn’t really looking for him at the moment; it was everyone else who was.
“But I am glad you came by,” she said, changing the subject. “I have an idea I want to run by you.”
“Sure,” I said, grateful to have the attention off me and my problems. “What do you have in mind?”
“Okay,” she began, pushing some paperwork aside. “I’ve always thought it would be fun to offer some classes here at the store on decorating. You know, how to make a centerpiece, creating a color palette, those sorts of things.” She paused, obviously waiting for my reaction.
“That sounds neat,” I said. “I’d go to one.”
“You think?” she asked. I nodded, so she went on. “Well, then I came up with the idea the other day, if the first one goes well, to offer a series. My vision is to take one of the room displays and rework it as a fresh slate. Design it as an everyday space, something anyone could live with.”
That sounded easy. Create a relatively boring, safe room that wouldn’t intimidate anyone... “And then,” she cut into my thoughts, “change up the accessories for each season or holiday. We’d keep the same basic pieces, same paint, but switch out the tablescape, the pillows, the accessories for every season.”
“I like that,” I said. And I really did. “It’s so practical. Most people aren’t going to change the bones of a room for seasonal decor. That plan would really help
them see how they could apply the changing decor to their own space.” And give them a built-in shopping list they could fulfill at Dwell.
“Exactly,” she said, snapping her fingers for emphasis. “I’ve never done it, though, because I’ve never had someone who could do it. But now that you’re here...”
“Wait a second,” I said, backing up from the counter a bit. “You want me to teach a class. Here? On decorating?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I want. You know your stuff, Brooke. And you’re a teacher, so you know how to prepare and how to present information. You’re perfect for this. Of course,” she continued, “I would increase your pay. And pay you on a contract basis after the summer ends. You could work a day here or there changing the room over.”
My mind was moving in a hundred different directions. Did I want to be more creative? Have others admire my work? Make more money? Well, yeah. Who wouldn’t? But this was supposed to be a part time summer job, one with a definite end point. Still, it sounded fun. And so without over-analyzing, without asking anyone’s permission, without hesitating, I answered her.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll do it.”
Chapter 13
“That’s awesome, Brooke! You were made for that.” It was later that night, and I was talking to Aaron, of course, while eating dinner--pepperoni and mushroom pizza, of course. I’d been questioning my answer to Caryn all afternoon, vacillating between excitement that she’d asked me to take on such a large project and doubt in my abilities to succeed.
“I don’t know...” I said. “Teaching English to teenagers is one thing; teaching decor to a bunch of women old enough to be my mother is quite another.”
“Whatever,” he said. “You can do anything you set your mind to, Brooke.”
I rolled my eyes. “You love a cliché, don’t you?” I teased him.
“Always. But it’s true. And it is truer of you than anyone else I have ever known.” The list flashed into my mind: #26-Gets excited about my accomplishments. Finding a guy just like Aaron was going to be nearly impossible. Strike the nearly. Impossible.