Page 18 of Griffin
Shay giggled as I struggled to break myself free from the cheese tether. It ended up on my chin and from there, I worked it into my mouth … after an embarrassing few seconds.
"And this is why I have a rule—no pizza on a first date." I popped open my soda, deciding I couldn't get into too much trouble with my drink.
"Something tells me any girl on a date with you would be too starry eyed to notice that you had a piece of cheese dangling from your mouth." She pointed to her own chin to let me know that my humiliation continued. I reached up and discovered a piece of mozzarella still clinging to my beard stubble.
"I knew I should have shaved this morning. I may be too traumatized by that last bite to take another."
Shay laughed. "Dreamy and funny. Self-deprecating isn't a bad quality either." Her long lashes dropped, and she turned the can around in her hand. "Better than arrogance." She turned the can again but didn't take a sip. "He's leaving tomorrow morning," she said quietly. "For his next job. I thought he'd be here all weekend, but he's leaving in the morning. He has an extra stop in Salt Lake City."
I waited, not entirely sure if that was a good or bad thing. I assumed it was good or, at least, that was what I hoped for.
She turned to me. "That's why I'm having such a great day."
"Shay," I started.
She shook her head. "No, I'm not looking for pity. I don't do pity when I'm in my other life, the one where he's on the road and I'm a single woman, independent and happy."
"Why don't you leave him?" I knew it was an asinine question the second it came out of my mouth.
She stared down at her half-eaten pizza. "If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me that, and it's a fair question. There's no easy or reasonable response. At first, I didn't because I was sure things would get better. I thought he was going through too much stress from work, and he was having a bad year. Then it was a few bad years and then I realized I'd gotten myself into a terrible marriage. The only thing that kept me going was the fact that he was gone for more than half of it. I settled for that half-life when I realized Tate wasn't going to let me go easily. I tried a few times, and he came after me. I settled into my half existence and that became the easiest solution. When he's out of town, I don't think about him. I don't think about that shitty half of my life. I just live."
"Come live with me," I blurted. "Shit, can I make a bigger fool of myself today? I meant come out … to a party. Tomorrow night. My cousin Stella and her roommates have this cool, funky place right on the beach, and they're throwing a party. It'll be casual. Music, snacks, beer." She didn't look too keen on the idea. I held up a hand. "Sorry, I'm being pushy. No biggie. I just thought since you were free—after he leaves in the morning, anyway." I took a big bite of pizza deciding my best bet was to shovel food in my mouth so no more stupid shit came out.
"It sounds fun but—" She shook her head. "I haven't been to a party in … I won't say how long because it makes me sound like the most pathetic person in the world. It sounds lovely, Fin, and I appreciate the invite, but—I don't know."
"Wait." I walked over to Dad's desk and ripped a piece of notepaper off the pad and grabbed a pen. "I'll write down the address." I paused and looked up from the notepaper. "Will you have a car?"
"Yes, Tate will be in his truck."
I slapped the address down on the table. "Just if you want. No pressure. I'll understand if you don't make it."
She folded the paper and put it in her pocket. "Again, I appreciate the invite, but me and parties and well—people—I've lost my ability to socialize." She sighed. "I really am pathetic."
"You're anything but pathetic. You're—" I paused and rolled up my eyes. "Nope, don't know what the opposite would be because as my sister likes to point out 'books catch fire in my hands.'" I reached up and wiped a crumb off her small chin. My finger lingered far longer than necessary. When she didn't pull away, I let it stay even longer until I finally willed myself to lower my hand from her face.
The door opened, and I straightened abruptly, guiltily. Nothing had happened, but that wouldn't be how my dad saw it.
"Fin, I wondered where you got off to." Dad stopped at the table and smiled at Shay. "Enjoying the pizza?"
"Yes, thanks. It was just what I needed to get me through the rest of the afternoon. Which reminds me, I've got some calls to make. Thanks for keeping me company at lunch, Fin."
Dad's brow arched slightly. "Yes, thanks for that, Fin." Sarcasm dripped off his words.
I stood up and grinned smugly at him. "It was my pleasure."
"I'll bet," Dad said as I slid past him to leave.
TWELVE
SHAY
I doubted that cell phone and social media inventors realized what a great service they'd done for women in my unfortunate position. Like so many people, Tate had a cell phone addiction. He spent most of his free time scrolling through social media and porn and whatever else he had saved on his phone. When he wasn't being a vicious pig to me, watching television or driving his truck, he was staring at that thing as if looking away might turn him to stone. I'd gotten home from work Friday evening and found him asleep with his phone in his hand. It was paused on some beautiful influencer who was standing in front of a waterfall in a wet T-shirt. Another wife might have been mad, but I wanted nothing more than for him to get lost in his social media world of fake boobs and plumped up lips. When he was focused on that world, I faded seamlessly into the background. I was an invisible entity, and you couldn't shout or throw a cup at an invisible entity.
Tate woke long enough to down six beers and two fast-food burritos before falling asleep on the couch. I stood there and watched him, slack-jawed and snoring and wondered how the hell I ever fell for the man in the first place. Everything about him repelled me. Fretting about him waking and climbing into bed caused me a rough night of sleep. But the morning light came. His phone alarm went off out in the front room, and I knew the day was going to be just fine. He bellowed for me to start coffee and breakfast, which I obediently did as he took a long shower. I was so thrilled he was leaving, I hummed show tunes while I put together two sandwiches for him to take along. An hour later, he rolled down the street in his noisy rig. I was sure I'd be hearing from the neighbors or the landlord soon, but for today, I put those worries aside. He was gone, and I was back in my other life.
Colt paid every other Friday, and my first week happened to end on the second Friday. It was so nice to see money deposited in my otherwise drought-ridden account. Tate gave me enough to pay bills and buy food, but there was never extra. There'd be enough today to buy a few plants at the nursery and a new coral pink lipstick I'd been eyeing at the store. But first, I had something to do, something I hadn't done for a long time and something that I missed so badly just thinking about it made me ache. Up until now, I hadn't bothered because all it did was remind me of my days before Tate, but I had two new people in my life, Griffin and Annie, and meeting them had made me realize that I'd let far too much of myself disappear. Tate had spent the last few years erasing me, and it was time to bring back Shay.
I did a quick pirouette on the way down the hallway, but my sneakers and the narrow passage made it less than perfect. My ballet teacher, Miss Augustin, would have clucked her tongue loudly and told me I looked like a clumsy octopus. I walked across the small, creaky floor to the dresser and opened the top drawer. I reached to the back, and my fingers landed on the soft satin. The bright pink slippers popped out from their dark corner and seemed to be saying, "where the heck have you been?" They'd been my favorite practice slippers. I had a pair of pointe shoes too, the special ones I wore for recitals, the ones that allowed me to hop up on the tips of my toes, a feat that took me a good six months and lots of turned ankles and sore toes to learn.
