Page 39 of Rules Of Engagement: St. Louis
“My job will still be there after we make sure you’re okay,” Journey said firmly. “That’s what friends do.”
And that was why I loved them both. “I’m okay,” I said, and for the first time all day, it felt almost true. “Or I will be.”
Frankie reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Damn right you will be. And if Gerald shows his face around here again, he’ll have to deal with all three of us.”
“Speak for yourself,” Journey said primly. “I’m a professional educator. I handle conflicts through dialogue and mediation.”
“And I’m someone who doesn’t have time for bullshit,” Frankie shot back. “I handle conflicts through creative problem-solving.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“It’s what I’m calling it when I have to explain to my son why his mama got arrested for assault.”
I laughed and shook my head.
We spent the next hour talking about everything and nothing. Journey’s plans for her new position, Frankie’s latest adventures in online dating, the upcoming election, and the changing seasons. It was normal conversation between friends, and it always rejuvenated my soul.
As we prepared to leave, Frankie glanced toward the counter where Elijah, the nurse, had been standing.
“You know, I might just develop a sudden craving for coffee around shift change this time tomorrow.”
“You don’t even drink coffee,” Journey pointed out.
“I could learn to appreciate it. For medicinal purposes.”
I shook my head, smiling. Frankie’s optimism when it came to romance was infectious, even if I couldn’t imagine applying it to my own life.
Outside the diner, Journey pulled me aside while Frankie was digging through her purse for her car keys.
“Are you really okay?” she asked quietly. “I know seeing Gerald couldn’t have been easy.”
“I’m getting there,” I said. “Some days are better than others.”
“And the rest of your life? Work, family, whatever else you’ve got going on?”
I thought about Christian, about the jewelry box sitting on my kitchen counter, about the rules that I suddenly wanted to break.
“It’s complicated,” I said.
Journey nodded. “The best things usually are. Just remember, you don’t have to figure it all out alone. We’re here when you’re ready to talk.”
And that was Journey’s gift, knowing when to push and when to simply offer presence. She gave me a quick hug before joining Frankie, who was still digging through what appeared to be a bottomless purse.
“Girl, what do you have in there?” Journey asked.
“Everything. You never know when you might need emergency lip gloss or a granola bar or…” Frankie triumphantly pulled out her keys. “Car keys!”
“Have a good day!” I shouted.
“You, too!” They sang as we parted ways.
The jewelry box was still sitting on my kitchen counter when I got home, open and staring at me like a haunting. Inside were earrings and a bracelet engraved with words that violated every rule I’d established.
Happy Anniversary.
I stared at the inscription for a long time, running my finger over the script. Our arrangement had evolved and that scared me shitless. Quickly, I covered the top and snapped it closed, grabbed it, and shoved it in the back of my dresser drawer. I had to pull myself together or I was going to lose my mind.
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