Chapter 12

If you like to spoon, you’ll love to spatula. That’s where I flip you over and make sure you’re done properly on both sides.

-Pickup lines that don’t work unless you have a beard

Naomi

Three weeks later

I was officially over Sean’s shit.

As I walked out of the station and saw him up close and personal with his ex, I decided that it was high time that I either shit or got off the pot.

It’d been three weeks of nothing but Sean ignoring me, and I was officially over it.

Something needed to give, and it wasn’t me.

It was him.

He either needed to forgive me, or I needed to move on, because I was tired of feeling this way.

I walked to my car, a car that I was lucky to have since Sean had been taking me everywhere for the last three weeks.

But he’d wanted to go vote on the way to work, and I’d needed to stop to get some ladies’ utensils, aka tampons.

Something that he’d allowed me to do either because he didn’t like dealing with women’s shit, or he was tired of being around me.

Regardless, I now had my car in my possession, and things were about to get real.

The moment I got to my car, I bleeped the locks and opened the passenger side door, easily extracting a spiral bound notebook from the floorboard and started writing my note with a pen I’d found on the ground outside of a gas station the day before.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I bit my lip, wondering if I should answer it or write the note.

I answered the phone.

“When are you coming home?”

My mom.

“Today.”

Her inhale was swift and sharp, and I smiled.

Then I wrote my note.

I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore. I was being stupid. I’m a girl, and we do stupid things sometimes. But ever since I’ve gotten out of the hospital, you’ve broken my heart a little more each day. It hurts. I miss my friend. Don’t be mad at me.

I placed the note on the seat of Sean’s bike, hoping that it didn’t blow off with a gust of wind.

With one last glance at Sean where he was talking with Ellen, I got into my car and didn’t look back.

Wouldn’t ever look back.

Putting my phone to my ear, I dialed my best friend and unloaded.

“I’m coming home.”

***

I drove ten over the speed limit the entire way and didn’t once get pulled over.

Either it was divine intervention happening, or I was just not speeding as much as other drivers.

Regardless, I pulled up in front of Aspen’s house seven hours later and turned my car off in her driveway.

I didn’t even make it out of my car all the way before my best friend was on me, tackling me to the ground and wrapping her legs and arms around me like a monkey on crack.

“Jesus,” the breath left my lungs, whooshing out so fast that I got light-headed.

“Your phone’s ringing.”

That was from Aspen’s husband.

I looked up and grinned at Drew.

“Yeah,” I acknowledged. “Been doing that for a couple of hours now.”

Or six.

He allowed me an hour before he’d started calling, trying to figure out where I was.

I hadn’t answered at all. The only clue he had that I left the city was that I’d at least called Big Papa and told him that I wasn’t going to be home tonight.

Though, that was out of courtesy to the man I was staying with since Big Papa was a worry wart.

“I missed you so much,” Aspen said, squeezing her arms tighter around my neck.

I patted her elbow.

“Yeah,” I wheezed. “But if you don’t let up, I might die.”

She snorted.

Did her grip around my neck let up, though?

Hell no.

“People are staring, Aspen,” Drew pointed out. “And your brother just pulled up.”

I looked up, the inch that Aspen’s grip allowed, and waved with my fingers at her brother.

He grinned at me.

“Looking a little red there, girl.”

I snorted, patted Aspen’s arm again to get her to let me go, and I breathed a sigh of relief when she finally did.

We both made our way to our feet, and Aspen was on me again.

“I’ve missed you so much. Do you think it’d be okay to…”

“No.” Drew and Downy responded at the same time.

I rolled my eyes.

“We can paint each other’s nails,” I informed her. “But I’m not going out drinking. The doctor strictly prohibited that.”

She huffed. “That’s ridiculous.”

I shrugged.

“Not even wine?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“Come inside,” Drew said. “And make sure you dust yourself off. Y’all have grass in your hair and on your asses.”

I started to dust the grass off of my shirt, and followed Drew inside, waving at Drew’s daughter who was on the phone talking to someone.

She waved back but didn’t disrupt her phone conversation.

“Who’s she talking to?” I asked as soon as the door closed.

“Her man. He calls at the same time every day…if he can. They’re doing really good together,” Drew answered.

Drew’s daughter had met a boy who’d gone into the military, and he’d gone on his first deployment only three months ago.

“Is she still living at the dorm in the family housing?” I asked.

Drew grunted.

I grinned.

“What’s for dinner?”

My phone rang again, and I looked at Drew accusingly.

He handed it to me, and I silenced it by pressing the ‘ignore call’ button on the screen.

Then I shoved the thing into my pocket and crossed my arms over my chest.

“You’re a stubborn bitch, you know that?”

I looked at Aspen.

“Look who’s talking, felony girl.”

Aspen flipped me off.

“My life isn’t under scrutiny here, yours is.”

I shrugged.

“Well, my life is just that—mine, and you need to butt out of it.”

Aspen rolled her eyes as Downy started to chuckle.

“Do you remember that time my sister went all Carrie Underwood on your brother’s cop car, and you didn’t see your way out of it?” Downy butted in.

I turned my glare to him.

“This is an A and B conversation. C your way out of it.”

He did spirit fingers, raising his fingers high up above his head and wiggling them. The move made him look sort of ridiculous, causing me to sigh.

“Can you at least give me until tomorrow to talk about it?” I asked.

Aspen’s mouth twitched, and I moaned. “Oh, come on!”

And that was how I ended up pouring out my recent life story to my friends, who apparently didn’t have anything better to do with their lives.

“So you just left, and you didn’t wait to see if he had anything to say?” Aspen asked with incredulity. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

She was right. It didn’t.

But I wasn’t the same Naomi that I used to be, and the sooner everyone saw that, the better.

***

“Goodnight, Mom,” I whispered, hugging my mother tighter than I would have normally.

She’d just spent the last two hours talking to me about my brother, and what her hopes and dreams had been for him.

I’d sat there, listening to her words, wondering if I should feel bad about what happened with my brother.

Should being the operative word.

I didn’t feel bad. Not even a little bit. He’d done this to himself, and he only had himself to blame.

I’d stuck by his side, even after he’d screwed over my best friend in the whole wide world. Even after he’d almost gotten me fired from my job because he’d blamed me for something that he’d done.

But when he’d run me over, almost stealing my life and causing me serious bodily injury, I came to a decision.

One where I promised myself that I’d stop putting everyone else first and put me first instead.

It was this promise that kept me from calling Sean because I was putting me first. Even if it ruined us in the process.

“Love you, Mom. I’ll see you tomorrow when you get home from work,” I whispered into her hair.

My mother squeezed just a little bit tighter, then let me go.

With a pat to the cheek, she walked to her room and didn’t once look back.

I watched her go, standing there in the doorway to my very empty childhood bedroom, and waited until her door closed to follow suit.

Once my door was closed, I looked at the room that’d been my happy place when I was growing up.

Now it just looked like an empty room.

None of my personalization was there anymore. No wacky pink paint with purple zebra stripes. No knick-knacks or posters from teen magazines or any of my old soccer trophies.

There wasn’t anything. Not even any curtains.

My phone beeped again, and I looked at it, sitting on the blow-up mattress, and wondered if I should break down and call the man back.

He was relentless, I’d give him that.

I threw back the covers on the mattress, shucked my watch and rings, and placed them on the floor beside the bed.

My phone was the next to follow, getting plugged into the charger that I’d borrowed from my mother.

And when I was in nothing but a t-shirt and panties, I flipped off the light, then walked to the bathroom. Closing the door quietly, I washed my face, used the facilities, and lifted my shirt, staring at what was left of the last few months torment.

My belly looked good, really good. (As long as I ignored the stretch marks and flab.) The stoma was gone, and all that was left of it was a pink scar that was healing, and I’d been assured would fade in color over time.

I looked like any normal thirty-year-old woman would, or at least I thought I did.

My belly could be flatter, and my breasts could be larger.

My ass had cellulite, and my chin was well on its way to being double.

But I felt good. I was on the road to recovery, I was healthy, and for the most part, I was happy about where I was in life.

Sighing audibly, I yanked my shirt back down, washed my hands, and turned off the light to the bathroom before opening the door and heading to my bed.

The moment I felt my feet hit the mattress, I eased my body down onto my hands and knees, savoring the way I was feeling.

Moving into a modified downward dog position, I stayed like that, enjoying the stretch and wondering if the soreness I felt would ever go away.

It didn’t feel like it ever would.

Literally, it felt like I was always sore.

Not in an ‘oh my God I can’t move’ way, but in an ‘I just worked out and it kicked my ass’ kind of way.

Something loud banged outside, but I didn’t move.

The neighbor had a large dog that he sometimes left outside if it was cool enough, and he was a loud son of a bitch. His name was Goober, and he was a two-hundred-pound Mastiff that looked mean as hell, but was really a big ol’ baby.

Though, he did like to eat balls, toys, shoes, plants, and wooden fences.

After going outside when the neighbor had first started letting him outside at night and seeing him chewing on the chain link fence, I’d decided that I’d just let him be.

Once I got to sleep, I was a fairly sound sleeper, so it wouldn’t bother me too much if he did happen to be outside tonight.

Stretched out as much as I could get, I dropped down on my belly, and once more reached for my phone, letting my finger swipe over the lock screen as I looked at all the missed calls and text messages from Sean.

Not one of them was mean, though.

Most of them were along the lines of ‘call me please’ or ‘Naomi, please.’

The last one he’d sent, though, was short and sweet.

Sean (11:22 PM): You better be safe. Night, beautiful.

My heart warmed for the first time since I’d left him, I turned my phone to silent and let it drop to the floor. Then I reached over my shoulder and tugged the blanket over my hips and all the way up to my chin.

Once there, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander.

It was no surprise where it went.

That bearded man owned all of my thoughts, both waking and dreaming.