Page 18 of Cookout Carnage
JONATHAN: No. But let’s grab a beer or something, Tristan.
TRISTAN: Sounds good.
SABRINA: But if she never called you back, this is a non-issue.
JONATHAN: I blocked her. Do I trust this? It must have been when I called her. I didn’t know she texted or called. Which apparently, she fucking did. A lot. Why the FUCK didn’t someone stop me? She’s here. She quit her job, ditched her boyfriend, and moved home. To stop my wedding. She’s here for me. She was scary calm about it, and like, I don’t know. Really sure of herself. Like we’re a forgone conclusion.
RORY: Perhaps you are. Perhaps you’re not. I’m not good counsel right now.
SABRINA: Jonathan. Just go and do what your heart says. And Happy Independence Day!
JONATHAN: Holy shit on a shingle, none of you are of any help. This should not be happening. Jesus. Who the fuck told me it was a good idea to call her?
TABI: You’re welcome.
I hate wine.
4
JULIET
My hands keep sliding off the wheel as I pull out. I rub them on my shorts, but it’s not helping. I’m shivering all over and it’s almost 100 degrees.
He gave me a very solid answer that revealed absolutely nothing. Fuck. I’m hanging on a ledge, exposed and raw, and he has yet to acknowledge that I said I loved him. Oh God. At this point, I thought we’d be naked. Why isn’t this easier?
I don’t like where this is headed. I tried to flirt and be cute, but I was dying inside that he didn’t throw himself at me. That was all bravado and no bravery.
He’s not getting married. But somehow doesn’t seem overly excited for me to be throwing myself at him. I may die a thousand papercut deaths. A million teeny tiny little slivers of pain. Toss some lemon juice on them, and that’s how I feel as he stared at me like I had two heads.
I pull over in front of the feed store and find a parking space. I resend every text I sent over the last four months. He needs to know I’m fucking serious. He looked better than any dream I could conjure.
* * *
JULIET:Feb 13th– Are you serious? Are you reaching out to me just before Valentine’s Day to tell me you love me? I called you back, but it rang without voice mail. I hope you get this. We need to talk. Are you ok? Are you dying? Don’t fucking do that to me.
JULIET: Feb 14th– Happy Valentine’s Day. I talked to your mom since you’re hiding. She said you’re fine but still engaged. WTF. You LOVE me? What am I supposed to do with that? Jon, talk to me. I have a boyfriend. You’re engaged. What does this mean? Tell me, Jonathan. Tell me again so I can start to figure out how I feel about this?
JULIET: Feb 18th– I don’t know what to make of your silence, but I can’t stop listening and analyzing what you said. You’re not usually a liar, so what the hell did you mean? And where are you? This is weird. You always answer me. Always. xo
* * *
I getone back from him and I know he’s reading. My brain fizzes with possibilities.
JONATHAN: What are you up to, Jules?
JULIET: Proving my point.
* * *
JULIET:Mar 1st– No answer or word from you, but you’ve put me in a tailspin. I just keep thinking about home. About what that might be. What it should look like versus the reality.
JULIET: Mar 17th– Happy St. Patrick’s Day. Where the fuck are you? I’ve listened to that four minutes and twenty-six seconds seventy times. You’re worming your way into my every day. I’m making up scenarios. You have to stop me or help me build them. Answer me, please.
JULIET: Mar 23rd– I dreamt of you again last night. I wish you’d call me so I could hear you tell me yourself. I heard all about your wedding from Dinah last night. She was sitting at a table behind Tanya at the Sip and Shake. It doesn’t sound like anything you might want. Well, you are elaborate and over the top, but there doesn’t seem to be any heart in her plans.
JULIET: Mar 24th– And you’re all heart. You have mine. I can’t stop thinking about it. You aren’t really marrying her, are you?
JULIET: Apr 1st– Not an April Fool’s joke. I don’t know if you’re reading these or if they’re going into the ether. I left him. I can’t be with a man when all I do is obsess about you. I could come home for spring break, but if I don’t hear from you, I don’t think I should. Would you see me if I came home? Can you please answer me, Jonathan?
