Page 89 of The Nice Guy
The way she says it is the way I imagine how she would feel having to handle a dirty diaper. “That’s correct. My grandparents left me a beautiful home after they passed away.”
“Oh, sweetheart, it’s time you come back to civilization. I’ve seen some of those reality shows from Atlanta, and I can only imagine the backwards people you encounter daily.”
“Most of them are actually very kind and generous.”
Everyone except for the gossiping witches who huddle together in grocery stores. And Honor. Actually, they remind me more of what it was like living in Chicago than I realized.
Mary smiles and gives me a look that says she believes me to be nothing short of simple. “Oh, to have the innocent outlook on the world you have. I’ve been around long enough to know it can’t be anything other than opportunistic for people to be kind. No one is nice without expecting something in return.”
Then what the heck does she think of me? I always thought I was kind, but now I feel like I need to review my memories of my time here. Was I just as terrible as everyone else and didn’t realize? Or was I just a step nicer than they were, so it came across as though I was a nice person?
Oh, this is going to bug me now.
“Are you coming to the holiday party we’re having this weekend? You know, it’s the annual event and the biggest of the season. Everyone who’s anyone will be there.”
“Uh—”
“Oh, I do hope so. Everyone will be tickled pink to see you. It’s Western theme, which you’re probably very familiar with by now, and I bought the most beautiful dress with sparkles and fringe. It should be such fun.”
Tickled pink to see me? Like her husband? I can’t push the thought from my head as I remember the last Sandoval holiday party last year. It’s their excuse to show off how much money they have, only inviting the elite, and then Arnold hits on everything in a dress. Including the woman who’s dating his son.
If someone doesn’t match the theme, they become a social pariah for the next season, and they’ll be lucky to get an invitation to anything after that. The holiday party kicks off the social season even though it’s before New Year’s.
Wait, did she just say sparkles and fringe?
“It would also make Pippa disappear. I know Kevin is just waiting for you to come back and forgive him. I even helped him pick out three lavish gifts I know you’ll love should you come to your senses,” Mary says with a bright smile.
Fake, white veneers. Perfect teeth. Three facelifts. Spray tanning and eye lifts. Everything to keep her looking perfect rather than show any signs of aging.
And come to my senses? Of course she would think I lost my mind. Even a year ago, I’d be lured into a false relationship filled with empty promises and shiny gifts, but I’m no longer that woman. I’m not the type to just accept the life others want for me. Rather than give Mary a response either way, I just smile at her.
“It was really great to see you again, Mary. Have a great holiday.”
Walking out of the store, I head back to the hotel for a nap. I’m beyond tired, and it’s difficult to sleep at night. The bed feels so cold and empty after months of sleeping with a burly man who wrapped himself around me every night.
Ignoring the sickening feeling as the front desk receptionist nods to me with a familiar smile, I head to my room and lie down on the bed. But the moment my head hits the pillow, my mind runs through everything for the umpteenth time.
How, no matter what, I’m still beyond thankful not to have to prepare for the party. The last thing I want to do is fit into a dress with a price tag far beyond what people should pay for an outfit they’ll wear only once to eat rubbery chicken and talk to people who don’t know anything outside of superficial topics that usually end in bragging about something. I never liked them, but I was required to attend. Until now.
I also can’t take my mind off of what it must be like preparing for a holiday with a family as large as Rhett’s. I really thought I’d get to experience a big family Christmas for the first time in my life, and thinking about the kids tearing open gifts in excitement makes the tears fall from my eyes.
Sleep doesn’t feel as close as it did twenty minutes ago, and I pull my phone from my purse. Seeing a number I don’t recognize as a missed call and voicemail makes me groan. I’ve received an endless number of calls from various “friends” whojust found outthe wedding’s off. The last thing I need is to talk to those vapid women. They just want to be the first to share the dirt with others. They’re fishing.
Putting the voicemail on speaker, I close my eyes and brace myself for whatever message has been left. Instead, my heart sinks.
“Brynle, sweetheart, it’s Lydia.”
I fumble to pause the message because I just started full-on crying. Bawling. It’s not just Rhett I miss but also his mother. Damn this time of year!
“I got your number from Darla, and I wasn’t sure whether I should call or not. But I know you don’t have any family to celebrate the holiday with, and I hate the thought of you alone on Christmas.”
Pause.
Of course, she would be thinking about her son’s ex-girlfriend while she’s getting the house ready for the holidays. This womanhas more love in her heart than everyone in Kevin’s family combined. Times a hundred.
“Rhett told me what happened, and I wish I could explain how disappointed I am in my son. I know how you feel about him, and I know he cares about you. He’s just stubborn, and… I’m just goin’ to say it. He’s a stupid man, Brynlee. I’m convinced Martin dropped him on his head as a baby, no matter how much he denies it. Or maybe one of the older kids did it. It’s the only explanation I can come up with.”
Pause.
