Page 35 of The Bright Side of Brooding
“The food was so good. I expected nothing less, but we couldn’t stop talking about how good it was. I think you might need to plan to invite Eric and Livie soon, or Livie is going to die of jealousy.”
Emily set her straight. “Well, we just decided the next night is going to be ladies only, so Livie can come. Eric will have to wait a while.”
“He’ll be fine,” she said, then took a long drink of her wine. We’d ordered a bottle of red, and I’d filled her glass as soon as she sat down.
The conversation moved on, and I could see some of the tension slowly seep out of her shoulders. While Katie and Bec watched Emily telling a story about some encounter she’d had with the garrison manager, I leaned in and whispered, “You okay?”
She tilted her head toward me but kept her eyes on Emily. “Yeah. Just frazzled. We should have dinner sometime soon.”
“Yes. Let’s. Maybe this week?”
I didn’t typically share my feelings easily. It gave me a sense of restlessness, and I didn’t like burdening friends with the ups and downs of whatever silly things my mind had grasped onto. But I’d also never had friends like these, and I felt particularly drawn to Ariel. I wanted her to be able to confide in me, and somewhere in the halls of my heart, I understood that only worked if it went both ways.
Plus, I wouldn’t mind updating her on the whole Nick thing. Especially before we went to London. It’d be good to check in.
She turned to me and smiled. “Perfect.”
“Well, if you two are done whispering, I have something serious we need to discuss.” Emily raised a brow, and we all chuckled.
“Let’s have it,” I said, curious. You never knew what to expect with her.
Her face sobered, and she nearly glared at me. “I heard you’re organizing a community food and shoe drive. I heard you have finagled a way to donate out into the community, somehow getting around the kilometers of red tape that entails, and I heard you’re doing itall by yourself.”
I swallowed. “It’s just a little side project. The drive ends right after spring break, so it’s not too much longer and then it’s out of my hands anyway.”
Nerves shot through me.And then we’ll see if that’s enough to make me look like I know how to manage.
“That sounds amazing, Summer.”
Katie’s soft words made me want to hug her. I didn’t need constant accolades… or at least, I normally didn’t. Something about these last few months had me feeling like a colt just learning to walk.
“What can we do to help?” Ariel asked.
My throat tightened. “It’s kind of on autopilot now. You can spread the word so people do actually donate. It’s been a little slow, but I think the weather hasn’t helped. There are drop-offs at the commissary, PX, and chapel.”
“I love it. You’re just the most aggressively generous person I’ve ever met, and I’m in awe.” Bec’s compliments never fell flat, and this one was no different.
I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of beingaggressively generous, but I understood it. In fact, the phrase did sound like me, and frankly, how I wanted to be viewed. I didn’t want to be subtly generous or lackadaisically generous. What was the point of serving people if it waseasy?
“To our amazing Summer. Generous to a fault, and the best chef I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.” Emily raised her glass and winked at me before we all clinked.
A mix of joy at her calling meour amazing Summer, and discomfort for all the attention on this part of my life, swirled around in my mind. Or could be that was the wine. I needed to eat something and steady myself. Then maybe I wouldn’t feel this odd… guilt, for lack of a better term. I loved these women, but something about the conversation left me feeling unsettled, even as we moved on and everyone pestered Katie about how she liked her master’s program.
By the end of the night, I’d eaten everything on every plate served to me, laughed until I cried, and teared up more than once. We all took the same train back, doing our best not to be the raucous Americans. When we parted and I got in my car, the sudden muted quality to the air came as a jolt to my senses. I breathed slowly, feeling my way through the odd sensation—full, happy, sad, heartened, lonely.
Why did I feel lonely after all of that delight and fun? I didn’t like ending an evening like this in such a pit of self-pity. I didn’t want it, and it had no business, no space, in this night. I jammed the ignition button on the car, then briefly petted the poor thing in apology because I did push it too hard, probably. I drove home carefully, wondering how late Nick had worked, if he was still awake, if he was angry with me for not wanting his charity with my ticket.
When I saw the tell-tale envelope, my heart leapt. I would’ve liked to have been less desperate for something from him, but the frustration from our conversation earlier today lingered, and this cloying, crushing sense of loneliness had me needy for it. All in all, pretty pathetic, but maybe he was to blame since he’d trained me to have a Pavlovian heart-leap every time I saw he’d penned me a letter.
Imagine my surprise when nothing inside spoke to me like he usually did. It was formal and stale. It felt distanced. Purely apologetic and courteous. I tossed it onto the kitchen table but plugged in his number since I would take him up on the ride to the airport. No need for me to leave my car parked outside for four days if I didn’t have to.
* * *
Knowing I would be gone for a long weekend and taking two days off work wouldn’t normally stress me out. But doing so with Nick, whom I hadn’t seen or spoken to since our discussion about the ticket? Yeah, that was getting to me. I felt clumsy and off. I’d texted to tell him I’d gotten the note and that, yes, I’d like a ride to the airport if he still felt comfortable with it. I did caveat because his entire letter had felt like a giantyeah we kissed but now I’m putting you firmly back in your placenotice.
He sent back“See you Friday at 09:00.”Well. How typically verbose.
Irritation climbed up my neck—the same feeling I got when I broke a fried egg too soon. Not horrible, but definitely more irritated than I should’ve been for something small. Just fry another egg, Summer! Just move on from the text, woman!
