the cloud I’m currently in.
“I wanna see you. Can you come up here tonight?”
Automatically I lie. If he’s not even going to know my voice when he answers the phone, I’m not about to give him my time. “I can’t. I have plans with Cara and the rest of the week depends on what happens with the resumes I dropped off today. There were some really promising places. Hopefully, I’ll have some interviews coming up soon.”
“But I miss you, love. I need you.”
“I miss you too.”
“Soon?
“Yes, soon.”
“Are you behaving without me?”
“Of course, are you?”
“What?”
“Nothing. Listen, I gotta run. Cara’s bringing groceries in and needs my help.”
“Behave, Bridgette.”
I hang up completely and utterly…frustrated. Where did that come from? One second he doesn’t recognize my voice, then he’s sweet and misses me, then he’s being possessive and telling me to behave . I thought we’d moved passed the controlling shit the other night after I walked out on him at dinner. Irritated, I push away all thoughts of him and focus on hanging out with Cara. She needs my help and I want to be there to help her any way I can.
Walking into the house, her iPod is blasting and she is feverishly working away in the kitchen. I turn it down and look over her shoulder. “Whatcha making?” I ask.
“A cake. Thank God you’re here.”
I bust out laughing at her when I see she has flour on her face and looks exhausted. “I’m all yours, but you have to tell me what has you in such a tizzy.”
“It’s Matt’s birthday and Abel forgot to tell me about it. The poor guy doesn’t have any family here, so Abel agreed to have a party for him at the station and asked me to cook. When Abel asked what he wanted for his birthday, the only thing he said he wanted was a cake like his mom used to make.”
“That’s not a big deal. We can totally do this.”
“Bridgette, there are going to be almost twenty firefighters there.”
“It’s okay. Take a deep breath. Let me change and I’ll help you.”
She nods her head and I go into my room unzipping my dress and stepping out of it. I grab a pair of jean shorts and go in search of a tank top in my dresser. My phone interrupts me, like it always does.
I hear I get to see you tonight. Now I have something to look forward to.
That you do, although I might be cooking, I’ll be there.
Works for me, I’m glad we’ll get to talk more. I’m at the liquor store now, do you want me to grab you anything?
A bottle of Tuaca! LOL.
That’s my kind of girl. See you soon.
I was joking, I text back, but I get no response. Oh well, there’s nothing wrong with taking a shot. Or two. Or three.
“All right, girl. How can I help?” I ask Cara.
“Can you wash and cut all the veggies?”
“Sure thing. What are we making?”
“Italian subs. I’ve made them for the guys before and they loved them, especially Matt.”
“Why don’t we set everything out buffet style and let them add what they want to their subs? It would be easier on us and that way everyone gets what they want.”
“You’re a genius.”
“Nah, just thinking outside the box.”
Cara and I work feverishly in the kitchen preparing all the fixings for the sandwiches. Then I watch her decorate the cake. She really is quite talented at it, not to mention her writing is perfect and looks professional. After we load everything into the shiny new white Tesla my brother-in-law, Vincent, bought for her, she drives us to the station. Glancing at my phone, I see a text from Troy. I open it to see he sent me a picture of the Tuaca bottle and two shot glasses. “What’s that?” Cara asks as we approach a stoplight, glancing over.
I show it to her. “Troy sent it to me.”
“So you’ve been texting him?”
“Yeah.”
“Does he know about David?”
I shake my head unable to speak the words. I hate lying. “Are you going to tell him?” she asks.
“I don’t know. I mean, should I?
“I wanna see you. Can you come up here tonight?”
Automatically I lie. If he’s not even going to know my voice when he answers the phone, I’m not about to give him my time. “I can’t. I have plans with Cara and the rest of the week depends on what happens with the resumes I dropped off today. There were some really promising places. Hopefully, I’ll have some interviews coming up soon.”
“But I miss you, love. I need you.”
“I miss you too.”
“Soon?
“Yes, soon.”
“Are you behaving without me?”
“Of course, are you?”
“What?”
“Nothing. Listen, I gotta run. Cara’s bringing groceries in and needs my help.”
“Behave, Bridgette.”
I hang up completely and utterly…frustrated. Where did that come from? One second he doesn’t recognize my voice, then he’s sweet and misses me, then he’s being possessive and telling me to behave . I thought we’d moved passed the controlling shit the other night after I walked out on him at dinner. Irritated, I push away all thoughts of him and focus on hanging out with Cara. She needs my help and I want to be there to help her any way I can.
Walking into the house, her iPod is blasting and she is feverishly working away in the kitchen. I turn it down and look over her shoulder. “Whatcha making?” I ask.
“A cake. Thank God you’re here.”
I bust out laughing at her when I see she has flour on her face and looks exhausted. “I’m all yours, but you have to tell me what has you in such a tizzy.”
“It’s Matt’s birthday and Abel forgot to tell me about it. The poor guy doesn’t have any family here, so Abel agreed to have a party for him at the station and asked me to cook. When Abel asked what he wanted for his birthday, the only thing he said he wanted was a cake like his mom used to make.”
“That’s not a big deal. We can totally do this.”
“Bridgette, there are going to be almost twenty firefighters there.”
“It’s okay. Take a deep breath. Let me change and I’ll help you.”
She nods her head and I go into my room unzipping my dress and stepping out of it. I grab a pair of jean shorts and go in search of a tank top in my dresser. My phone interrupts me, like it always does.
I hear I get to see you tonight. Now I have something to look forward to.
That you do, although I might be cooking, I’ll be there.
Works for me, I’m glad we’ll get to talk more. I’m at the liquor store now, do you want me to grab you anything?
A bottle of Tuaca! LOL.
That’s my kind of girl. See you soon.
I was joking, I text back, but I get no response. Oh well, there’s nothing wrong with taking a shot. Or two. Or three.
“All right, girl. How can I help?” I ask Cara.
“Can you wash and cut all the veggies?”
“Sure thing. What are we making?”
“Italian subs. I’ve made them for the guys before and they loved them, especially Matt.”
“Why don’t we set everything out buffet style and let them add what they want to their subs? It would be easier on us and that way everyone gets what they want.”
“You’re a genius.”
“Nah, just thinking outside the box.”
Cara and I work feverishly in the kitchen preparing all the fixings for the sandwiches. Then I watch her decorate the cake. She really is quite talented at it, not to mention her writing is perfect and looks professional. After we load everything into the shiny new white Tesla my brother-in-law, Vincent, bought for her, she drives us to the station. Glancing at my phone, I see a text from Troy. I open it to see he sent me a picture of the Tuaca bottle and two shot glasses. “What’s that?” Cara asks as we approach a stoplight, glancing over.
I show it to her. “Troy sent it to me.”
“So you’ve been texting him?”
“Yeah.”
“Does he know about David?”
I shake my head unable to speak the words. I hate lying. “Are you going to tell him?” she asks.
“I don’t know. I mean, should I?
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