I MUST BE DYING
LIBBY
“I’m looking for Libby.”
The male voice sounds familiar. I frown, trying to figure out where I know that voice from and why there is a man here looking for me at all.
“And you are?” Peggy asks.
I quickly wash my hands and rinse them off, then grab a paper towel and start to dry them.
“Walter,” the voice answers as I push through the swinging door. I come to a dead stop when a familiar set of blue eyes rests on me.
“Walter,” I whisper in shock at seeing him again. Especially here, of all places.
“Hey.” He smiles, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his trousers, looking a little uncomfortable. “I know I should have called, but when I spoke with Palo this morning, he told me you were buying a pizzeria. I wanted to come check it out, and to tell you congratulations.”
“Buying a pizzeria?”
My heart sinks and my stomach coils. I turn to look at Antonio, whose voice is filled with tension. It’s been three days since I left his apartment in tears after trying to tell him that I was the buyer. We’ve talked since then, but the conversations have always been short.
“You’re the one buying the shop?” he asks, his jaw clenching and unclenching while he waits for my answer.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“What the fuck?” he barks, making me jump.
“I was going to tell you,” I say quickly while I take a step toward him.
He takes a step back, holding up his hand between us.
“I tried to tell you,” I say softly, holding my hands together. Tears start to sting my eyes. “You always shut me down.”
“It’s been weeks since my parents told me they got an offer on the shop. Weeks, Libby. In that time, I’ve spent almost every day with you.”
“I know. I tried to tell you,” I repeat softly as my chest starts to get tight. “I’m sorry . . . I tried.”
“Sorry? What are you sorry for, exactly?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I should have told you sooner.”
“You didn’t fucking tell me at all,” he growls, his eyes shooting behind me to where I know Walter is standing.
“I know. I was going to—” I cut off my own words when his eyes harden. “Can we talk about this in private?” I ask, feeling everyone’s eyes on us.
“I think your time for talking is up.”
“Antonio . . .” I try to stop him, but he storms past me.
I follow after him. When he goes inside the office, I shut the door behind me. “Just please hear me out,” I beg as I watch him put on his coat and hat.
“Why should I listen to you now?” He turns on me, and the anger I see in his gaze makes my breath freeze in my lungs.
“I’m sorry. I knew I should have told you sooner. I knew I should have, but at first I didn’t think you’d understand why I wanted this place. I thought you’d try to talk me out of buying it. Then you wouldn’t listen to me whenever I tried to bring it up.”
“I guess now you’ll never know what I would have said or done.”
He moves for the door, but I step in front of it.
“Get out of my way, Libby.”
“Antonio, please. Just . . . let’s just calm down and talk about this.”
“It’s too late. We have not one fucking thing to talk about. Not anymore,” he growls.
My heart doesn’t just sink; it shatters in my chest, cutting me wide open.
“Good luck, Libby. And good fucking riddance.”
He opens the door and then leaves, slamming it closed. I start to breathe heavily, and tears blur my vision. I know I can’t let him leave without talking to me. I open the door and run out after him.
“Chiquita, give him time to cool down.” Hector stops me at the front door of the shop, and I finally let the sob out. I turn toward him and bury my face against his wide chest.
“Give her here, babe. Get her coat for me. I’ll take her home,” Peggy says, taking me from Hector and wrapping her arms around me. “Calm down, Libby. It will be okay.”
“I messed up,” I whimper. Her arms tighten. “I ruined it.”
“It will be okay,” she repeats gently. She lets me go and holds out my coat so I can put it on. “Come on. Let’s get you home. You’ll see. Everything will be okay.”
“It won’t be okay,” I deny, looking at her.
Her eyes fill with sympathy. “It will. Just give him time,” she says gently. I shake my head. “I’ll walk you home.”
“No, I’m okay. I’ll be okay.” Worry fills her features as I wipe away the wet from my cheeks. “Really, I’m okay.” I pull in a deep breath, willing myself to stop crying.
“Libby, I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Walter says.
My eyes go to where he’s standing—still with his hands tucked into the front pockets of his trousers.
“It’s okay. It was going to come out one way or another.”
“I—”
“It’s okay,” I repeat, cutting him off.
I turn for the door and run out. I head straight home. As soon as I make it inside the entryway, a sob rips from my chest. I stop, lift my hair away from my face, and try to breathe.
“Libby?” Spinning around, I find Miss Ina standing in her open apartment door. “What on earth happened, child?” she whispers with wide, worry-filled eyes.
I cover my face with both my hands and cry harder.
“Come on.” She grabs my arm and leads me slowly into her apartment, where she forces me to sit on her couch before taking a seat next to me. “Now tell me what happened,” she urges, wrapping her arm awkwardly around my shoulder.
“Antonio found out that I’m buying the shop.”
“Was he mad that you’re buying it?” she asks, sounding slightly confused.
I shake my head.
“No . . . he”—my head jerks from side to side—“he was mad that I didn’t tell him about it . . . that I didn’t tell him that I was going to buy it.”
“Oh dear.”
“Yeah.” I try to suck in a lungful of air, but it’s difficult with how tight my chest feels. “He said, ‘Good luck and good riddance.’ Good riddance . . . god . . . we’re done, and it’s all my fault for not telling him something that I should have told him weeks ago. Before things between us got serious.”
“Give him time to calm down. He’ll come to his senses. It was just a shock, that’s all.”
“He won’t. I know he won’t.”
“He’ll come around, child. It will all be okay.”
“He didn’t even want to hear me out when I tried to talk to him.”
“Men are stubborn like that, Libby. It’s best you learn that now. He’ll come around, and when he does, you two will work this out.”
“Why does my chest hurt so badly?” I whisper, looking into Miss Ina’s dark eyes.
Her face softens. She doesn’t answer my question; she just wraps her arms around me and gives me a hug.
“Am I dying?” I ask, hugging her back.
“What?” She pulls back to look at me.
“You’re hugging me and my chest is hurting. I must be dying of a heart attack.”
“You’re not dying, child. It’s called heartbreak.”
“Great.” More tears fall down my cheeks. “Heartbreak sucks. Remind me to never fall in love again,” I say, then feel my eyes widen. “No.” I shake my head when her eyes turn knowing. “I’m not in love with him. I’m not. I can’t be. It’s too soon.”
“Hush.” She covers my mouth with her hand. “Love doesn’t always happen when we expect it to. It doesn’t always happen with fireworks and explosions. Sometimes it sneaks up on you silently, when you least expect it.”
“I’m not.” I try again, my voice muffled by her hand.
She shakes her head.
“You are, and it’s going to be okay,” she says gently.
I want to believe her, I really do. But I saw the look in his eyes before he left. It wasn’t just me not telling him about buying the pizzeria—it was something deeper than that.
“It will be okay. One way or another, it will be okay, Libby. That I can promise you.”
Grabbing her hand, I pull it away from my mouth. “What if he doesn’t forgive me?”
“Then he doesn’t deserve you, and you will find someone who does. Someone who will cherish you exactly like you deserve.”
“What if—”
“Enough with the what-ifs, child.” She lets me go and stands. “Right now I’m going to make you some tea. Then you’re going to go upstairs, wash that makeup that’s running down your face away, and go to bed. Tomorrow you’re going to start a new day knowing that, one way or another, things will work out.”
“Okay,” I agree, watching her walk slowly to the kitchen.
When she comes back, she hands me a cup of tea that smells like peppermint. I drink it while she watches in silence. My mind is in turmoil.
“Is she sleeping?” I swear I hear my sister Fawn, but I know I must be dreaming.
“Her eyes are closed, so my guess is yes,” Mac answers.
I frown. Why am I dreaming about my sisters?
“Should we wake her up?” At that question, I blink my eyes open and stare at my sisters, who are both standing over my bed. “Never mind. She’s awake now,” Fawn says, and her face softens. “Hey.”
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask, looking between my sisters. They both have concerned looks on their faces.
“Mom called us,” Mac answers, taking a seat on the bed. She jumps up a second later when she accidentally sits on Pool, who was under the blankets.
“You got a cat.” Fawn picks up the kitten and holds him against her chest.
“That’s Pool,” I tell her, feeling my chest get tight.
Why did I let Antonio name him? Now I’m going to be reminded of him every time I say the name.
“He’s cute,” Mac says, taking him from Fawn.
“Why did Mom call you?” I ask, bringing the situation back into focus.
They both look at me.
“Miss Ina called her last night and told her what happened.”
“Great.” I close my eyes, wishing that I could go back to sleep and wake up with last night being nothing but a really bad dream.
“How are you doing?” Fawn asks, sliding my hair away from my face.
My heart feels like it’s been ripped out of my body and stomped all over, then run over a few times. I open my eyes and sit up.
“I’m okay. You guys didn’t need to come over.”
“We’re your sisters. Of course we needed to come over.” Mac sighs as Fawn walks around to take a seat next to me on the bed. “We know we’ve sucked lately. We’re sorry for not being here for you.”
“You both have your lives to live. I get it. It’s okay,” I say quietly as my throat starts to get tight.
“It’s not okay that we’ve gotten so caught up in what’s going on in our own lives that we’ve neglected our baby sister,” Mac says, picking up my hand and giving it a squeeze. “What happened?” she asks.
I drop my head forward and look at her hand holding mine. Then I tell them everything that’s happened between Antonio and me—including the fact that I gave him my virginity.
“I really am a jerk,” Fawn says when I finish. “I had no idea you were going through so much.”
“I didn’t tell anyone.” I shrug, and she leans into my side while I keep my eyes on my lap.
“I know. But I also didn’t ask. I’m sorry,” she says quietly.
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” Mac says.
I lift my eyes to her when I hear the angry tone in her voice.
“I knew something was going on with you and Antonio, and I didn’t ask you about it. I should have asked you about it.”
“I don’t know that I would have told you anything—even if you did ask,” I admit. Her face softens. “Now I don’t think it matters anyway, since I doubt I will ever see him again.”
Hearing Fawn snort, I look over at her. “Once he cools off, he’ll come around.”
“He was really mad.”
“Yeah, and he has a reason to be mad. But he will realize that he overreacted and come around. Just give him some time.”
I don’t think that she’s right. He was good at pretending to hate me for years—and that was before I ever gave him a real reason to dislike me. Now that he has ammunition and a reason for why he shouldn’t trust me, I have a feeling that he’s going to use that to stay away from me for good. I don’t know exactly what his ex did, but I’m sure that, in one way or another, she lied to him and kept things from him. He’s probably put me right into the same box he put her into.
“I think you need alcohol,” Mac says.
I look over at the alarm on my bedside table. “It’s nine in the morning.”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” Fawn sings, and I laugh. “Come on. Get dressed. I’m going to search and see what I can find in your kitchen.” She shoves me out of bed, then scoots out behind me.
I grab a pair of sweats and one of my old shirts, then go into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. When I look in the mirror, I groan. I didn’t do as Miss Ina suggested and wash my face when I got home last night. Instead, I got into bed and held Pool while I cried some more. Grabbing a face wipe, I clean my old makeup off my face, then tie my hair up into a ponytail before I get dressed. I head into the living room and find Fawn in the kitchen, cooking. Mac is opening the bottle of white zinfandel that was in my fridge. Looking down when Pool circles my feet, I smile, pick him up, and kiss the top of his head.
“Here.” Mac hands me a glass full to the top with wine. I take it from her and raise a brow. “Drink up, sister.”
“I should probably call Martina before I get too drunk and explain to her what happened,” I say before taking a large drink of cold wine.
“Do you think she’s going to upset you more if you talk to her?” Fawn asks, looking troubled.
I shake my head.
“She knew I didn’t want to tell Antonio about purchasing the shop. I asked her and Tony not to tell him. I don’t want him to get to them before I have a chance to tell them that he knows and that he’s pissed, though.”
“I still don’t really understand why you didn’t want to tell him,” Mac says, studying me.
“That’s because my reasons were totally stupid—in hindsight.” I set down my glass of wine and grab my cell phone from my purse. When I turn on the screen, I see that I have a few missed calls from my mom and sisters. Ignoring my mom’s calls for now, I dial Martina’s number. I put my phone to my ear as I take a seat on the couch, keeping hold of Pool.
“I knew this would happen,” Martina says when she answers. My eyes slide closed. “Are you okay?”
“No,” I whisper.
“Oh, cara. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not, but it will be,” she says as I bury my face against Pool’s soft fur.
“Have you seen him? Is he okay?”
“He stopped by this morning to talk to me and his father. He wasn’t in the mood to listen to anything we had to say, so he left.”
“I’m sorry I dragged you and Tony into this stupid mess.” I sigh.
“It’s fine. I still don’t understand why you didn’t want to tell him, but Tony says that he does. Maybe I will try to have him explain it to me.”
“Maybe he can explain it to me, too,” I mutter.
She laughs. “Are you going to be okay, cara? Do you want me to come over?”
“My sisters are here with me, but thank you. I’m glad you’re not mad at me.”
“Of course I’m not mad at you. Us women need to stick together. My son will come around—just give him time.”
Give him time . . . I swear if I hear that one more time, I might lose my mind.
“I’ll give him time,” I agree, thinking that he’s got all the time in the world. I did wrong. I messed up by keeping something from him. But shouldn’t he have at least taken the time to listen to me when I tried to explain things to him? He should have known after all the times I tried to talk to him about the shop that I had a good reason for doing so.
“We’ll talk soon, cara.”
“Soon.”
I hang up, then dial my mom’s number.
“Honey,” Mom whispers. I squeeze my eyes closed. “Are you okay?”
“Fawn and Mac are here,” I answer without answering.
“Good. I’m coming into the city. I’m getting ready to leave now.”
“Mom, you don’t need to do that.”
“Yes, I do,” she affirms. “I love you. I’ll be there soon. We will talk then.”
Great.
“Okay,” I agree. “Love you, too.” I hang up, then look over at Fawn and Mac. “Mom’s on her way.”
“You’re going to need more alcohol,” Mac mutters, picking up my still-full wineglass and bringing it over to me.
Hearing pounding on the door, my heart leaps in my chest. It crashes when Miss Ina shouts, “Open the door!”
“Great. This is just getting better by the second.”
“At least you know you’re loved,” Fawn tells me, handing me a plate of pancakes.
Mac opens the door to let Miss Ina inside.
“Took you long enough,” Miss Ina snaps at Mac.
“It took me half a second to open the door,” Mac replies with a roll of her eyes.
“Whatever,” Miss Ina grumbles. Then her eyes move over to me.
“Are you okay?”
“Peachy.” I hold up my glass of wine.
“Morning drinking. Lord. It’s worse than I thought.”
“Are you going to hug me again to make it better?” I ask her, and her dark eyes narrow. “Just asking.”
“Your mom is on her way. When she gets here, we’re all going to Bloomingdale’s.”
“What?”
“Therapy, child. I’ll even buy you something.”
I really must be broken, because for the first time in my life, shopping is not something I want to do.
“I’d rather stay in.”
“And what? Get drunk and watch TV?” She shakes her head. “We’re getting you out of this apartment for the day, getting your mind off things.” She pulls her eyes from me before I can tell her that I’d really rather not. She looks at Fawn. “Where’s my coffee?”
“I didn’t know you wanted coffee.” Fawn flashes an amused smile at the old woman.
“You didn’t ask. What’s with you kids nowadays and your lack of manners?”
“Miss Ina, stop being a grouch,” I tell her before taking a huge gulp of wine. “And I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying in, drinking wine, watching movies, then going to bed early since I have to work at the salon tomorrow.”
“Fine,” she huffs as Fawn brings her a cup of coffee.
I smile at both my sisters, then settle back against the couch with my pancakes.
An hour later, Mom shows up. When I tell her that I don’t feel up to going out, she leaves to get us all lunch. We eat in front of the TV—even Miss Ina eats her sandwich sitting on the couch next to me. Okay, so she complains the whole time about eating in front of the TV, but I ignore that and focus on the good part. The being-surrounded-by-love part. I also drink wine. Lots of it from my never-empty wineglass. We watch movies—all of them scary—and when everyone leaves, I go to bed and once again cry myself to sleep while holding on to Pool. He doesn’t seem to care at all that his fur is soaked through.