Chapter 8
Rebecca
I regretted walking out of the condo the second I closed the door, but I couldn’t get back in and I sure as hell didn’t want to wait for him to come back and see the note before I could toss it. I power on my phone as I walk to my car in the parking garage. My brother has called me twelve times. Damn, I thought he wouldn’t even notice that I didn’t come home since he goes to bed at nine. I told him that I was going out with co-workers to celebrate my first day.
I call him, and he picks up on the first ring. “Rebecca,” he shouts into the phone.
“I’m sorry. I should have called you, but my phone died, and I fell asleep at one of my co-worker’s apartment.” I compound my lies which only gives me away.
“Bullshit. Get your ass home now. Fuck, you’re never going back. Are you fucking kidding me?”
Now, it’s my turn to get pissed. I know he loves me and is only scared, but he forgets that I’m an adult and he can’t tell me what to do. “Listen, James. I know you’re upset, but did you forget that I’m old enough to make my own decisions and if I stay out late, it’s not your business.”
“Um, it’s my business until you can make it on your damn own. One fucking day on your job and you do everything to give me a fucking stroke.”
“I’ll be there soon so you can bitch at me some more, but I have to drive and can’t deal with this.” I already feel like I made the biggest mistake in the world, and this only makes the pain of running away from Rob even worse.
I pull out and pay my fee at the garage, then I head back home. My mind is on Rob the whole time, and I nearly get off on the wrong exit. I had to get myself together. My brother is already going to tear me a new one when I get to the house.
Once I’m pulling into the driveway, James comes out and instead of getting angry, he pulls me into a hug. “I’m sorry, Becca. I didn’t mean to lose my shit. I know you’re sort of an adult and it’s my fault that you haven’t had the full work and life experience at this age.” I look at him like he’s crazy, but I don’t say anything about his rapid turnabout. We walk into the house, and I smell why he’s so forgiving.
I sniff the air and open the nearest window, then walk into the kitchen. “What the hell did you burn?”
“Toast,” he whispers.
“Toast? How the hell did you manage that?” I can’t even understand how that’s possible. I lift up the garbage can lid and see what looks like giant pieces of charcoal.
“I…um… I didn’t like how light it was, so I put it back in again and started checking messages in case you sent me one.”
“Dude, you have to be shitting me. It has a number on there for a reason,” I snicker, trying to get the sting of guilt eating at me about making him worry.
“I know, but I wasn’t thinking, and I turned it up.” I look at the number he has the dial set to, and it’s to max cooking time. I open the kitchen windows and the back door. And for the first time since yesterday, I can laugh. It’s a hysterical laugh that ticks James off.
“It’s not funny. I’m fucking starving and,” he breaks off.
“And we have menus if you wanted.” I go into the draw near the toaster and pull out a stack of menus.
“I was worried I’d get a terrible call that you were in the hospital or something, so I didn’t want to order anything,” he admits, keeping his head down.
That hits me hard, and I can’t even express how terrible I feel about freaking him out. “I’m truly sorry about that. I won’t do that again.”
“Yeah, you won’t be doing that because I called your job and told them that you were moving away and had to quit,” he confesses proudly sticking out his chest.
“Are you serious? How could you do that?” It’s not that I want to go back, but it’s not the point. It’s my decision to quit.
“Hey, I was frustrated and called after I got off the phone with you.” I shove his shoulder and stomp away.
“What about food?” he calls out.
“Order yourself something. I’m not hungry,” I say, slamming my bedroom door closed. I can’t believe he called in to quit for me. I’m reeling about it, but it’s a good thing because for a brief moment my thoughts aren’t on Rob.