Page 75 of Selfie

“No. I invited Julia’s parents, her siblings, their spouses, and their kids to the beach house for some bonding time. It’d mean a lot to us if you came.”

“Oh, I uh…” There’s so much on my mind between my newly recharged feud with Spencer, Ruby meeting with a drug dealer, and all the work on my plate, it’s hard to sift through the clutter of my mind to find a good excuse. “I have plans.”

“What plans?”

“Some landscaping things at my house. They’re measuring the pool, replacing the fridge, and installing a new built-in grill. It’s a whole thing. I need to be there.”

Dad blinks at me. “Your excuses are getting lazy.”

I hold up my hands like I’m caught and surrendering. “Then why do you ask, Dad? I’m happy for you and Julia. And I want you to get along with your new family. I’m just not interested in cozying up to strangers right now.”

Dad’s face morphs into disappointment. “She made you soup. It’s in the break room.”

“Huh?”

“Julia makes a bone broth soup with homemade egg noodles. She swears it’s a magic cure.”

“For what?”

“For every five events Jules invites you to, I only ask about one. I’m trying not to overwhelm you. I keep telling her you’re sick so as not to hurt her feelings. I’ve used that excuse so much, she thinks you’re dying from mono. So, she made you soup. Even though you reject her over and over again, she still has hope and extends blind kindness to you at every turn. It’s getting harder not to see your behavior as deliberate.”

I tuck my chin to my chest, feeling weighed down by guilt. “I’ve been an ass.”

“You sure have.”

“Fine. I can’t do this weekend, but I swear on my life, my answer to the next invitation is yes.”

Dad makes his way around my desk to clamp his hand around my shoulder. “Thanks, Nate.”

“No problem.” He’s at the door when I stop him. “Wait.”

“Yes?”

“Tell Julia her soup is delicious.”

Dad cocks his head. “You haven’t even tried it yet.”

“I know, but it’s nice to say. Just tell her thank you.”

He nods once more before he’s through the door. My view is no longer obstructed and I see Spencer’s empty desk. An idea sprouting to mind, I march to her work area. After ensuring the rodent carrier under her desk is empty, and the guinea pig is nowhere in sight, I snag the pen off her desk.Sticky note, sticky note.

She stores a set here somewhere…

I open the top desk drawer which is empty except for a hole punch, a collection of pens, and other office supplies rarely used in this day of digital communication. I open the second drawer to see a rainbow collection of sticky notes.There we go.

I’m jotting down a note to her on a pink sticky, inviting her to lunch with me in the break room—Julia’s homemade soup. She’s been so clipped to my texts and emails, maybe a handwritten note will warm her up to me again. It at least shows some effort.

I’m signing my name,from Nate, when other contents of her drawer catch my attention. Cheap mini donuts seem out of character for Spencer. I pick up the pack of powdered sugar Hostess Donettes to see a name, Caleb, scrawled in black permanent marker. Next to it, his phone number. The chocolate glazed donuts have the same.

A beast of jealousy screams and tries to claw its way out of my chest. If there were any doubt about my feelings for this woman, I am immediately humbled. I’m furious at the idea of her gettinganother man’s number. I hate how she laughed so easily with my dad, yet every time she looks at me it’s with daggers for eyes. I’m even more pissed at myself, because I had her and I let her go. I should’ve just talked to her more that night. I should’ve explained everything that happened with Elise. It’s Spencer, she would understand. She’d be patient as I worked through my shit. But opening up about my grief is a Mount Everest I can’t seem to climb.

I know this sticky note won’t do. It’s not enough to invite her to lunch. I bunch up the note and chuck it in the wastebasket. I have to leave Spencer alone until I’m ready to tell her the truth and lay all my messy tragic baggage on the table. Until I can do that, logically she has every right to talk to other men…

But not today and not donut guy.

I casually toss the packaged donuts in the trash, one log at a time.

Sorry, Caleb.

---