Page 53 of Friendshipped
She stands back with her hands on her hips. Her eyes rake over me from head to toe then she licks her lips like she’s at a barbecue.
“You look amazing. How did you get even more handsome?”
I’m at a loss. She’s being so much more forward than I expected. “Um? I eat my broccoli?”
She slaps at my chest with one hand and lets it rest there longer than it should.
“You silly,” she says and then she giggles. “Okay. Let me tell mom we’re leaving.”
She steps inside and I let out a breath. Obviously, Meg’s as nervous as I am. She wasn’t this overzealous in high school—at least not that I can remember. A few seconds later, Mrs. Abrams and Meg are back in the doorway.
“Trevor. So nice to see you,” Mrs. Abrams says. “Thank you for taking Meg out to welcome her home. I know the two of you have a lot to catch up on. I hope we’ll be seeing a lot more of you around now.”
Nothing like a subtle hint.
“I’m always here in town. Unless I’m at work,” I say.
“Well, that’s good, because Meg’s here in town too now. Okay, you kids. Go have fun, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Or at least don’t tell me if you do!”
Mrs. Abrams laughs at her own joke and I smile the kind of smile I give my dentist when he tells me I need a filling.
“Mom!” Meg says.
She turns and rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t pay attention to her. She’s over the top. You know how she is.”
I grin and nod like a marionette. “Yep. Well, let’s go. Goodnight Mrs. Abrams.”
“I won’t wait up!” she says as Meg and I walk down the steps.
Once we’re in the car I ask Meg, “So, you didn’t tell me what brought you back home.”
“Well, it’s a long story,” she says, placing her hand on my thigh near my knee. I wiggle a little and it doesn’t encourage her to move away at all. It’s like she’s slipping right back into how things were between us before we went to college. A lot of water has passed under the bridge since then.
I don’t want to hurt Meg’s feelings, but I also don’t want to lead her on. I finally pick her hand up while she’s talking and set it on the center console, giving it a light pat. Meg looks at her hand and a sulking expression passes across her face for a second, but then she goes back to filling me in on what she’s been doing for the past five years.
Meg spends the next half hour telling me about budget cuts at her old workplace and how she got laid off and ended up looking for jobs around Philadelphia. She finally realized she needs to be home with her family.
And then she says … wait for it …
“Besides, Trevor. You’re here.”
We’re already seated at the restaurant and folding our menus by the time she finishes relaying everything to me and drops that bomb.Besides, Trevor. You’re here.What does she even mean?
I take a long swig of water.
She did not move here for me.
She did not move here for me.
Maybe this works like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. If I repeat the saying enough it will be true. Maybe I’ll even wake up in my living room and find out this night was a dream.
Meg sits across the table with a misty look of hope in her eyes. She’s batting her lashes with her chin resting on her folded hands while her elbows prop on the table.
“Well, I’m sure everyone will be glad to see you,” I tell her. “The whole gang.”
The whole gang? What are we? The Little Rascals?
I’m losing it.
