Page 13 of Off Script
Gotta get ready for the week—GTL.
GTL? You lost me.
CARLISLE
You know, fromJersey Shore. GTL = gym, tan, laundry. But my GTL is grocery shop, tidy up, and laundry.
You absolutely cannot make fun of me for watchingSeinfeldreruns when you’re over there quotingJersey Shore.
CARLISLE
Fair point.
What are your plans for the day?
A little of this and a little of that. Nothing special.
Glancing at the upper left corner of my phone, I notice the time and realize that I need to get ready for my fitting with Brooke that's supposed to start in a few minutes.
I need to run. Call you later?
CARLISLE
Sounds good :)
“Fancy hearing from you again,” Carlisle chirps after answering my call on the first ring.
I'd like to think she was eagerly sitting by the phone awaiting my call, but I'm sure that's wishful thinking on my part.
“Just calling to see how your day is going. Finished all your BLT stuff?”
“GTL,” she corrects me with a giggle. “But yes, I finished my Sunday chores, so I feel ready for the week. I think it’s going to be a good one.”
“Such an optimist.”
Optimism. It isn't a concept that I usually devote much time to contemplating, but this is now the second conversation I've had today where it's been mentioned.
Perhaps it's the universe's way of subtly encouraging me to be open to new possibilities.
“I try to be. What about you? Are you an optimist or a pessimist?” Carlisle asks.
I pause a few beats before answering, gathering my thoughts. “More of a realist. Some things from my past have left me guarded. I try to protect myself now by not being overly optimistic, but I try not to assume the worst either.”
“So, you’re saying you have trust issues.”
With a hollow grin, I quip, “Don’t we all?”
“Do tell, do tell,” she suggests playfully before turning serious. “But I understand what you’re saying. Once you reach a certain point in life, it feels almost naïve to be optimistic. We all have stuff in our pasts that has the power to leave us scarred if we let it.”
“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience, Carlisle. Care to share?”
“I was hoping this conversation was going to be about you and your trust issues, Brent.”
Every time she says my first name, it sounds odd, and my instinct is to correct her. But I don't because it serves as a reminder to keep Carlisle at arm's length. Even if I'm not sure that I want to.
“Looks like we’re at a standstill then because I was hoping it would be about you again.” But she stays silent, waiting me out until I sigh and explain further, “Most days, I have people hovering and hounding me, telling me what to do, what to say, what to wear. It’s just nice to have something that doesn’t revolve around me. I enjoy learning about you and your life. You're so refreshingly normal—”
"Normal?" Carlisle laughs. "You think I'm normal? God bless you, Brent. You just made my day."
