Page 55 of When I Come Back
Her boyfriend—I think his name is Jameson, but honestly, I could be wrong—laughs and says, “Pretty sure it was seven times, but yeah, that’s right.”
“It’s not everyday I get to come here dressed up, I wanted to take advantage,” Tiffany retorts. I smile politely, welcoming the distraction the two provide.
By the time we reach the door, Tiffany has fallen back behind me, hand in hand with her boyfriend now. They’re cute together. I think—if I remember correctly—they’ve only been dating for a few months, but she seems happy. They both do from the few encounters I’ve had with them together. I just hope it lasts. If they break up, and I have to hear about her fucking Brooks in the parking lot behind the distillery again, I will lose it.
I open the front door, and the aroma of Thanksgiving dinner overtakes my senses. Greeting the staff I pass by, I make my way toward my office to put down my purse and compose myself before I see Cary. I didn’t see Ripley’s or Brooks’ cars in the parking lot. Brooks showing up would probably be a miracle at this point, and Ripley is usually late to the party unless I tell him I need him sooner.
I decide to text him and see when he’ll be here so I can use him as a buffer.
Me: Hey, you gonna be here soon?
Ripley: I am… leaving my house **grimacing smiley emoji**
So it’ll be another twenty minutes before he’s here. Fuck.
Ripley: Why? Are you okay?
Me: I’m fine. Just trying to avoid Cary. I was hoping he wouldn’t show.
Ripley: He came?! After last night? Shit. That takes balls.
Me: Does it? He’s the owner, he kind of has to be here.
Ripley: I’m sure he could have let you handle it. I certainly wouldn’t show my face if I’d been busted for cheating.
Me: That’s because you’re sane.
Ripley: Eh, debatable **shrug emoji**
Me: Feel free to turn the snark up to 100 tonight. Seeing that vein in his forehead bulge will bring me joy.
Ripley: You got it, babe **winky face emoji**
I sink back into my desk chair as I put my phone back in my purse. If I stay in here too long, someone will come looking for me. I’ll just have to make sure I stay surrounded by people so he can’t talk to me.
As I walk into the kitchen, the smell of the food Travis has prepared for us is making me realize how hungry I am. Speaking as I round the corner, “My God, Travis. That smells so fucking goo—” Before I can finish, I realize it’s not Travis but Cary who’s in the kitchen. He looks up to me and gives me a thin-lipped smile, as if that would win him some kind of points. I’m frozen in place, staring at him wearing that stupid fucking apron I love so much on him.
“Don’t worry,” he starts, “I only made a couple of the sides, so you don’t have to boycott Thanksgiving entirely.”
It’s an unnecessary comment. As if I’d not eat just because he made it. I roll my eyes and turn to walk away. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop me. I guess I’m not the only one still pissed off.
I see Travis on my way out of the kitchen, and he waves me down.
“Thea, hey! Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Happy Thanksgiving, Travis,” I say as I look him over. He’s jittery and seems out of sorts which isn’t normal for him. I place my hand on his forearm before asking, “Hey, you okay? What’s up?”
His shoulders sag. “You know the woman who stopped by the other day for me?”
“Yeah. Did you figure out who it was?” I ask, still concerned about the way he’s acting.
“It was my ex-wife. Melody’s mom. The second you said she was brunette, I had a feeling, but I wanted to make sure before I said anything. Turns out, she tried to get in contact with her parents too. I didn’t even know she was back in town.” He’s toldme very little about his ex. I never pushed because it seemed like a touchy subject.
“Okay… what does that mean? You seem off,” I ask as he shoves his hands into his pockets.
“I’m not sure yet. She’s never done this before. I just wanted to let you know in case she came by again. She doesn’t get to know anything about Melody.”
I nod my head in response. “Of course. Where is Melody now?”
