Chapter Twelve
Veronica
I put my purse over my shoulder, looking through it to make sure I had thrown the list of books I needed to get in there. The cheapest one on the list was a cool $200. I only had to purchase two, the others I could short loan from the library, but textbook costs were no joke. Education costs, in general, were no joke but hey, it was supposed to be an investment, right?
Right.
I had half a mind to buy the books, copy my reading material, then return then to the bookstore when I was done. I walked out the door of my apartment, still rifling through my purse. I stopped when my foot kicked something hard. I looked down, slipping my purse strap back up onto my shoulder. I frowned picking up the box in front of me, looking for a name or apartment number, something that would tell me it wasn't put in front of my door by accident.
There was nothing on it. It wasn't taped up or anything the way boxes came in the mail. I could just lift the lid and see whether there was anything inside it. I mean, it had been on my doorstep, chances were it was for me.
I lifted the lid outside my apartment, just in case. Inside was a single sheet of paper. I took it out, putting the box on the floor. Handwriting in blue ink covered one side of the sheet; a man's writing, if I had to guess – not messy, but not really fine calligraphy, either.
Ron, after all this time, you're still my favorite person to see on a Saturday night. There was something there, and I want to know that you felt it, too. Apologizing for what I did will never be enough. I'll be at our spot every day at noon, ready whenever you are.
It was mine. I knew it was the first word I read. I knew who had sent it, too, even though he hadn't signed his name. I took the box and note inside, leaving them on an end table before heading out again. I didn't want this right now. I was busy. Not only that, I had moved on.
A whole year later after he dumped me for a bullshit reason he could have avoided, and now he wanted to talk. I was pissed getting into my car. It wasn't fair.
Maybe I wasn't as over him as I’d thought that I was since all it had taken to plunge me back into my feelings was him showing up again, but honestly, I had been at least some of the way there. I had made some progress – had started seeing other guys, moved into a new place which he shouldn't have had the address to, gotten my shit together and moved on with my life. This was selfish. He wanted to show up again after a year and act like after what he did, he still had a right to my time.
My annoyance must have been apparent on my face because the man who sold me my textbooks told me to smile, it was summer and a pretty girl like me shouldn't be feeling so down. It wasn't fair. Roman couldn't talk about things like “our spot” anymore. He couldn't drag me back to that place where I had thought everything was good between us because obviously, things hadn't been as good as I had thought.
Peeved, I called Tiffany to see if she was home. I liked living alone but I could see the advantage of staying at home and at times, specifically when rent was due at my place, I envied her a little for staying with her dad.
When I arrived, she yelled at me from inside the house to let myself in. She had been in the kitchen putting groceries away from the shopping trip she had just come home from. I had had breakfast, but I didn't turn down the coffee she offered when she joined me in the living room.
I had never met her mom, but there were signs of her all around the house. Pictures of her on the walls with the rest of the family, carefully placed art and decor that were an obvious woman's touch. Buying a couple ferns for my apartment was cool, but I was looking forward to the day I had a home that I could make into whatever kind of space that I wanted, once I found the right person to share it with.
"Busy morning?" I asked Tiff.
"Dad's got a thing about online shopping. He feels like you have to be in the store to inspect your item before you bring it home," she huffed. She had been trying to get her father to let her get groceries delivered to the house, but he wasn't comfortable with a person he didn't know or trust picking his food out for him.
"Tell him it's just like UPS," I suggested.
"He knows that. He's just stubborn."
"I bet he just does it to make you pay your way," I joked.
"I'd believe that. Neither of us is home most of the day, though, so I guess he sort of has a point, especially when summer session starts up."
"I wish I had been half as dedicated as you when I was a sophomore. Maybe I'd be graduating already."
"Why are you in such a hurry to get out? I think you should enjoy this while it lasts."
"You want me to be paying these loans till I'm eighty?"
"I'm just saying. Once you're out, no more student discounts at the Apple store."
"The student discount at the bookstore today saved me like $20 on a $200 textbook. Bullshit," I complained.
"Textbook? You already went shopping?"
"Just before I came here."
"You didn't wait for me so we could go together?"
"You didn't warn me that I would have to have dinner with my ex after a year of not seeing each other last Saturday, so how about we call it even?" She paused for a second, looking kind of sheepish.
"You're really upset about that, huh?"
"A heads-up would have been nice, that's all I'm saying."
"But would you have gone if I had told you your date was with Roman?" she asked. I thought about it.
"No. I probably wouldn't have gone out for a dinner date with my ex. Met him for coffee at 4 p.m.? Maybe. Had lunch with the two of you and your dad here? Maybe that, too. A date? No. He stopped being that person to me a year ago."
"I'm sorry. I know it wasn't my place."
"You're right, it wasn't."
"Can you stop being mad now?"
"Depends on whether lunch is on you today," I said, smirking.
"Only if you come to the store with me to get my books first," she said, smiling back. I agreed.
The Roman thing was definitely something I wish I had never had to do and something I didn't want to deal with now, but I hadn't seen him since that night. Besides the box at my door, I hadn't heard from him, either. There was enough distance between us still for me to not be mad anymore. As long as she wasn't encouraging him behind my back, I couldn't hold it against her.
A couple hours later, I was scanning a shelf of books with scary-sounding titles. Tiffany was in school for Economics, and I knew nothing about what that meant.
"Can you see it?" she asked. We were looking for The Crisis of Capitalist Democracy by Richard Posner, an additional recommended book on her list; not part of her required reading, but she wanted to get it anyway.
"You could probably check the library for it before spending money," I suggested.
"Got it," she said, pulling the book off the shelf. I wandered through the shelves a little more as she paid for her books. One with a photograph of a red and black bird on the cover caught my eye. I picked it up.
"Birds of the American Southwest," Tiffany read over my shoulder as she came up to me. "When did you pick up birdwatching?"
"Have you ever wanted to go?" I asked her.
"Where? Birdwatching?"
"No. Arizona, New Mexico?"
"Not really," she quipped. "Maybe a little further south to Cabo and then we're talking. Are you getting that?"
"Might come in handy on my road trip."
"You are not doing a road trip to New Mexico on your own. I won't let you."
"If you won't go with me, who the hell am I supposed to take?"
"You're supposed to take a plane and stay at a hotel like a normal person," she said. I smiled, knowing she was just kidding.
"I want to get from coast to coast."
"In that piece of trash car? You won't even get from here to Minneapolis," she joked.
Tiff was a homebody. She had a passport, but wasn't as keen on filling it up as I was. I had been to Mexico and Puerto Rico, but I wanted to see the country before I traveled anywhere else international. The only reason I had seen Mount Rushmore was a field trip during elementary school. If I was going to be a tourist, where was a better place to start than here? The idea for the road trip had started last year because of the canceled trip to Glacier National Park that Roman and I had been talking about taking.
"You're right. I should probably just hitch," I laughed.
"You really want to end up dead in a psychopath’s trunk, don't you?"
"Maybe one big trip and I'll get it out of my system," I said, putting the book back. I doubted myself as I said it, but I was willing to try it and see whether I could prove myself wrong. What I really wanted to do was relocate, somewhere with a coast; the closer to a beach I was, the better. Maybe I'd end up back here eventually, but not before I had been around for a few years...or many years, we'd see.
"I'd join you if you’d schedule the trip for after my graduation."
"Maybe I can take Sean," I laughed.
"Don't. He sounds like the kind of guy who you'd get into a fight with and he'd leave you on the side of the road," she said. Sean and I had never really fought, we were still too casual for that, but that didn't even really sound that out of character for him. I didn't bother trying to defend him.
"Sounds like solo it is, then."
"Why don't you take..." She stopped herself before she finished her suggestion, but she didn't have to say it for me to know the rest of it. Why don't you take Roman, she wanted to say. We both knew why. I didn't know why she was acting like she didn't. She was supposed to be on my side.
"That everything?" I asked instead, changing the subject. She frowned like she was going to keep going.
"Yeah. Unless you need anything else," she said. Thank God, she wasn't about to push it. I said I was good, too, and we left the store. I didn't have siblings, but Roman and Tiffany had always been close. I adored their relationship, maybe it was a family thing, she had to stick up for him because they were related or something.
There was another one when I got back to my apartment. I picked it up and opened it immediately before I went inside. Same blue ink, same handwriting.
I missed you at the picnic today... Maybe tomorrow?
Maybe tomorrow... He sure was optimistic for a person who had no right to be. I shook my head, letting myself into my apartment. It was not happening tomorrow. Not the day after that, either.