Being in my parents’ guest room is weird. The walls are bare except for some random piece of “art,” and I use the term art loosely, a single chest of drawers sits in the corner, and a throwback comforter blankets the bed. It’s not the room I grew up in, but being here still feels like being home. The smells are the same, the sounds take me back to being a kid, and the comfort of my mom holding me when I’m hurting
I’ve been successfully ignoring Owen for most of the week. I gave in to a moment of weakness and answered him once. I was proud of myself for not letting him come over. For not answering his calls. For not calling him myself. That last thought was the final straw. I realized I have never called him. I’ve never talked to him in public other than that first weekend he took me to Ranks. A place that isn’t in Lexington and nowhere any of his, our, friends would see us.
When Dakota called me and told me she was headed home, I was so thrilled, I picked up the phone and wanted to call Owen. I wanted to share my joy and excitement of having my sister home.
I didn’t.
And, while it is probably not the best idea to thrust Dakota back into her life the day after she gets home, I had to leave for at least a night. Plus, Linc went to stay with her in my place to help buffer with the girls if it was needed.
I figured since I was coming to my parents this was also an excellent opportunity to meet with my soon-to-be former employer. I’ve decided to officially resign and pack up the last of my belongings from my small office.
Although I’ve been awake for a while, my alarm signals it’s time for me rise and face the day. Instead, I hit snooze and roll over on my side. Today I take the final step in putting my old life behind me. Gone is the relationship I thought brought stability, structure, and comfort to my life, and after today, gone will be a job that, while it offered growth and opportunity, didn’t bring me joy or a feeling of ownership.
Even though I’ve already ended things with Kent, I know he’ll sniff me out today when I enter the building. He’ll offer me a back-handed compliment, remind me how great we could be, and force me to once again explain we’re over.
Thoughts of my relationship with Kent run through my mind like a silent film. Black and white tidbits of … boredom. Sure, we had fun times early on, but eventually we fell into a mundane life that consisted of long work days, schedules, and chaste kisses. Sex itself became mechanical and I had resolved it to be the life I was fine with. Happiness isn’t a daily occurrence and surely many long-term relationships went through rough patches.
When my mental movie hits the conversation about taking care of the kids, it’s no longer a silent movie. The words are loud and vivid. My hurt overshadowed by anger and disappointment. I still don’t know if the anger was directed at Kent for his response or myself for thinking he’d be different.
My phone blares again and this time, I slide the red button to turn it off. I slide my feet off the bed and take a moment to gather my thoughts and put on my happy face before opening the bedroom door. The smell of coffee fills the house as I pad my way down the hall and into the kitchen. My dad is sitting at the table with a cup of Columbian goodness raised to his lips and my mom is at the stove flipping bacon. My stomach approves of all that is happening in this room.
“Morning, honey. Coffee is brewed and your fancy creamer is in the fridge.”
“It’s not fancy, Mom, it’s vanilla.”
“Whatever, it’s there for you. Are you hungry?”
My stomach answers for me and my dad laughs.
“Starved, apparently.”
I pull the creamer from the fridge before pouring a cup of coffee and stirring in a little of the creamer. I pause and inhale the aroma before blowing into my cup a little to cool the first sip. Heaven.
Taking the seat across from dad at the table, I grab a section of the newspaper. My parents still subscribe to and read the actual paper every day. I’ve tried showing them how convenient the internet is for news but my parents want to support businesses like the newspaper, small coffee shops, and the public library. My mother refuses to succumb to “one of those digital book things” and will only read paperbacks she can get from the library. I love my parents, but I’ve learned to choose my battles. I’m just glad they both finally gave up the flip phones for smartphones. Baby steps.
“Big day today, pumpkin.”
“Don’t you think I’m a little old for the ‘pumpkin’ bit?”
“Nope. I’m your father, I’ll call you what I like until I utter my last breath.”
“Oh dear, that’s a little dramatic don’t you think?”
For the next half hour, I enjoy bantering with my dad and stuffing my face with what must be half a pig’s worth of bacon before heading to the shower. Once I’ve showered, applied a little makeup, and added a little product to my hair, I toss it back in a towel on top of my head and stand in front of my bed with my outfit options laid out before me.
Part of me wants to go into my old place of employment looking the part of the position I’m leaving. The other part of me wants to dress like I have been in Lexington, more of the person I am now. Or maybe the person I’ve always been and hadn’t realized until now.
I know if I go with the dark-wash jeans and blouse I have laid out, Kent will have a coronary. He hates the business casual look. He also hates my hair wavy but that’s how I’ve chosen to wear it today. I realize I’m putting too much thought into Kent and seeing him today, but I’m a woman and I find a little satisfaction in showing my ex what he’s missing out on.
As I balance on one foot while I slide the strap of my wedge behind my heel, my phone signals a text message. It’s probably Dakota. Nobody else would be up this early and texting me. I grab my phone and tap the message icon. It’s not Dakota.
Owen: I saw your sister.
I don’t respond.
Owen: She said you left. When are you coming back?
Again, I don’t respond.
Owen: We need to talk.
Me: If it’s about the backorder of lumber, Jameson has that info.
Owen: It’s not about work.
Me: I don’t see what we have to talk about.
I look at the time and am going to be late if I don’t get a move on. Instead of responding to the multiple text messages coming through my phone, I silence the notifications and toss it in my purse.
I do not miss city traffic. I rather enjoy leaving my house ten minutes before I need to be at work every morning. This traffic and noise is for the birds. I don’t even see birds. Even they can’t stand it here. It’s funny how being only two hours away feels like a million miles when you’re sitting through the fifth red light and have only moved a few feet.
I tap my fingers on the steering wheel as “Can’t Feel My Face” by The Weeknd fills the car. It’s when the next song, “Thinking Out Loud” by Ed Sheeran, begins playing I pause. Like the silent movie of my relationship with Kent was playing through my mind earlier, my time with Owen begins the same way. Only, this movie isn’t silent and it isn’t black and white. No, this one is in vivid color, the sounds are evident, and the emotion it evokes is all encompassing. My heart fills and shatters simultaneously. Which, seems like it should be impossible, but it’s not.
How did I let myself get roped into this? I swore I wasn’t going to date. I wasn’t going to meet someone. And I wasn’t going to fall for anyone. My commitment is to figure out my future and help my family. I finally approach the intersection with a green light and laugh to myself as I make it through just as the light turns yellow. I managed to get one part right—I didn’t date.
Dakota drove home a valid point when she said I was a booty call to Owen. I think deep down I knew that. I had heard all about his reputation, his charming wit, and megawatt smile that sent many women into a fit of giggles before dropping their panties and throwing their inhibitions out the window. I don’t know why I thought I was different. Maybe it was because I never pursued him. Perhaps it was because we didn’t just hookup, we talked. We laughed.
I pull into the parking lot and into a visitor’s spot before pulling down the visor and checking my appearance in the small mirror. I look different than the last day I was here. I may be a little heartbroken, but I’m happier. I love being there for my family and I absolutely love the little life I’m building in Lexington.
Against my better judgment, I pull out my phone and check the time and my messages. I have about five minutes until my appointment so I scroll to note I have eight from Owen and two from Dakota. Ignoring Owen’s, I open Dakota’s message.
Dakota: We forgot to tell Mrs. Larson I was home. Whoops! But she’s great and we enjoyed a pot of coffee and getting to know each other.
Dakota: And, I may have yelled at Owen last night. Okay, I did. He deserved it. Don’t be mad. He’s an idiot. Anyway, hurry and handle your shit so you can come home. I don’t remember this pig show being so unbelievably annoying. Love you!
She yelled at Owen? Great. I swear, my sister and her lack of boundaries when it comes to me.
Me: What did you say to him?
Dakota: Nothing much. Basically, told him he was a dumbass. Well, you’re both dumbasses and nobody listens to me.
Dakota: Seriously with this pig? I’m ready to tell her the pig died.
Me: Please don’t do that. She’ll have a meltdown. You should’ve seen her when the cable was out one morning.
Dakota: Even more reason. Why aren’t cartoons cool like when we were kids. Isn’t there like a flashback channel or something?
I laugh and exit my car on my way into the building.
Me: Going in now. I’ll TTYL.
I contemplate Owen’s messages for a brief minute as I stand in the foyer of the building, but now I’m running late so I toss the phone in my purse and greet the woman at the front desk. Once she confirms my name and appointment, I’m cleared to proceed to the elevators and up to the fifth floor to officially put my former life to rest.
One hour, fourteen signatures later, and with a small box in my hands, I’m escorted to my former office by Kiersten, my human resources representative. Normally, a security guard would do this, but she and I were friendly so she offered to come with me as to not make it awkward. I appreciate the effort and secretly think she knows I may need someone to run interference with Kent.
I’ve placed the final frame in the small box and am taking inventory of the room before confirming I have everything that is of a personal nature when I hear a throat clear and look up to find Kent standing in the doorway.
“Kiersten, I’ll escort Ms. Walker out if you need to get back to your office.”
Kiersten looks from Kent to me before answering. “Nope, I’m happy to hang out with Minnie. We’re just catching up.” Bless her.
“Actually, I think Charles was looking for you. I’ll stay. You should find him.” He’s full of crap. Charles Phelps isn’t looking for Kiersten. He’s the damn CEO of the company and isn’t involved in HR business. But, the idea that he may be looking for her has Kiersten visibly shaken.
“It’s fine, I’m just about done here, Kiersten. Thanks for keeping me company.” I walk around my desk, former desk, and offer a quick hug and a whisper that Kent is full of shit before letting her go.
Once Kiersten exits the office, Kent closes the door and stalks toward me. Kent is a handsome man. He’s a little over six feet tall, fit, and has dark-brown hair with large brown eyes. He’s dressed in one of his many navy-blue suits with a simple tie that makes his skin look like he’s been out in the sun over the summer. I know that’s not true. Kent doesn’t take time off to relax, let alone in the sun.
“Minnie, I’ve missed you,” he says as he attempts to put his hands on my arms. I shift away and grab the box. Anything that failed to make it in the box isn’t important.
“Give it a rest, Kent.”
“You look very casual, Minnesota.”
“Really? You go from missing me to remarking on my clothes? You’re ridiculous. Goodbye.”
“Wait.” A hand grabs my elbow, stopping me in my tracks. I turn to look at Kent over my shoulder when he smiles. He is quite handsome when he smiles. Too bad it’s something he saves for wooing clients. I widen my eyes, wishing I had the ability to raise a single brow, in question and look down to where his hand is on my elbow. He releases me and I turn to him, blowing a piece of hair that’s fallen in front of my face. Kent reaches over and moves the fallen strand from my face and, against my better judgment, I offer a small friendly smile in response.
“I do miss you. Can’t we talk? You don’t want to throw away three years together over a misunderstanding. I’m willing to forgive you for your tantrum. Just come home.”
And there it is. The condescending way he talks to people. The way he feels he is above us all and we should be grateful he allows us into his world. I didn’t listen to Dakota three years ago when she told me he sent her hackles up. That he was pulling me away from the person I was and into a new version that fit into his perfect, stainless steel, and white furniture life.
“You forgive me? You? You have got to be kidding me. There is nothing to forgive, Kent. We had a relationship and it ended. We want different things in life. This conversation now is just further proof of that.” He begins to take another step toward me but the expression on my face stops him. “Don’t even think about it. I swear to all that is holy if you keep this up, I will kick you in the balls, Kent.”
Kent’s eyes bug out and I feel a tremendous amount of satisfaction in knowing he may actually think I’d kick him in the balls. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Kent. But, I can guarantee one thing: it isn’t me. Goodbye, Kent.”
Feeling like I’ve just shed one hundred seventy pounds of expectations, I hold my head high as I exit my former office and walk to the elevators that will lead me out of this building and away from this life that I no longer live.