Page 20 of Wish You Would

I scrub a hand across my face, picking up the phone on the third ring. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hi honey. Sorry to call you at work. Do you have a minute?”

“For you, always. What’s up?”

“I’m guessing you haven’t checked your mailbox in the past couple of days?”

I’m lucky if I check the thing once a week. “I haven’t. Why?”

My mom exhales. “Amy is getting married. She’s inviting the whole family to the wedding… including you.”

I pause. “Why would she invite me?”

Amy Nichols is my girlfriend from high school. We dated in our junior and senior years, until she broke up with me—and broke my heart in the process—after graduation.

“I think she was trying to be nice. Our families have been friends for years, I’m sure she didn’t want to invite everyone but you. You know… rock the boat.”

“Right. I’m not gonna go, Mom.” Maybe that makes me an asshole. It’s not that it would bother me to see her get married. I was pretty devastated when she dumped me, but that was years ago. I closed that chapter in my life a long time ago. But I don’t think I need to witness her wedding. I picture myself, still single and sitting with my parents, while my ex-girlfriend starts her happily ever after. It’s a depressing image.

Amy and I made sense back then. She was the first girl I dated. We’d known each other most of our lives. Our parents were best friends. She was pretty and smart, easygoing but also determined. A lot like Briar, now that I think about it. I loved her, but that was so many years ago. When I think about her now, all it conjures up is a feeling of nostalgia.

I’ve only had two real relationships in my life—the first was with Amy, and the second was with Aubrey. Both got serious fast, and both crashed and burned. It’s not that I’m afraid of commitment, I just think maybe I’m not cut out for love.

“You have time to think about it, honey,” my mom says. “The wedding isn’t happening until the fall.”

“It’s a hard no, Mom.”

“Okay. At least send the RSVP back, okay?”

“I do have manners, Mom,” I remind her. “I gotta run. I have a stop to make on my way home from work.”

“What are you up to, sweetheart?” She must be home alone. My mom has always been very social. I think she’s afraid of silence. It might be one of the reasons she left Dad. He’s quieter, more comfortable on his own.

“I need to order furniture, Mom.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Do you want my help? I can meet you wherever you’re going.”

“Nah, I’m fine. Thanks for the offer, though.” She is definitely alone.

“What are you looking for?”

I sigh. “I need a bed and a side table. Maybe a dresser.”

“How come? You getting another roommate?”

“I sorta already have one. She’s a friend of Daisy and Tucker’s.”

“She?”

Shit, I shouldn’t have let that slip. Here we go with the 20 questions. “Yes, Mom.She. But it’s not like that. She needed a place to stay. It’s only for a few months.”

“Is she pretty?”

Fuck.“Yes, very.”

“Single?”

I feel my eyes roll. “Single.”

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