Page 38 of Keepsake
“NO!” he yelled. “We weren’t together until after I told you we should see other people. I was faithful, except for one little slip-up.”
I stood up fast.
“Well, now you can register for crystal and china without wondering whether my funeral would interfere with your engagement party.” I turned my back on him. The cider, which had tasted so good a few minutes ago, was now burning a hole in the back of my throat. On autopilot, I moved towards the steps. “Have a nice life,” I said over my shoulder as I ran off the porch and across the lawn toward the bunkhouse.
May stood goggle-eyed, a sprig of basil in each hand, while Griff and Zach turned to pin Gilman with twin laser beam death-stares.
Luckily, nobody tried to halt my escape.
Afew hours later, the door to my room opened slowly, and someone bumped and scuffled her way inside. “Jeez, Lark. Can I turn on a light?”
I woke up quickly, sitting up to switch on the bedside lamp. “Sorry, May.” I blinked furiously into the sudden light.
May carried a big wooden tray into the room, placed it on the bed and then sat at the foot of the mattress. “Did I really wake you? It’s only eight.”
I wiped sleep out of my eyes. “Nap attack.”
“Oh boy. That’s why you missed dinner. But I thought you should eat something. Audrey made her chili. I saved you a portion before the savages could finish it all.”
“Thank you, sweetie.” I made an effort to sit up straight. I pulled the tray closer and picked up the spoon. May had nested a salad plate over the bowl to keep the chili warm. When I uncovered it, the lovely, spicy scent began to fill the room.
“I even brought toppings,” May pointed out. “That’s how much I love you.”
“Oh man. You’re the best.” I picked up the saucer of diced avocado and shredded cheese, tipping them into the bowl. I didn’t feel like eating, but May had gone to all this trouble. So I spooned up a few beans and put them in my mouth. The male voices in the next room were louder than usual. “What’s going on in there?” I asked, hooking a thumb toward the wall behind me.
“Griff and the boys are discussing the renovation he’s doing after Audrey leaves.”
“Oh.” I sighed. I’d forgotten that he was moving into the bunkhouse soon. One more thing for me to worry about—waking up Griff Shipley with my night terrors.
“Do you want to talk about your shitty day?” May asked.
“Well…” I was considering what to say when Zach appeared in the doorway.Great. The whole world would be party to my humiliation. I knew I wasn’t supposed to care about Gilman’s marriage. I’d already decided another relationship with him wasn’t in the cards.
Fornow, anyway. That was the sticking point. He’d slammed the door shut. He’d said he wanted to play the field, to be single. And now he was marrying someone else, and letting me know just how unlovable I really was. As if I needed one more reminder.
“He’s getting married,” I blurted out. There, I said it. I’d ripped that Band-Aid right off.
“What?” May yelped, leaping off the bed. “Thatasshole!”
I put a chunk of chili meat in my mouth and chewed. Audrey made a kick-ass chili, and anyway, there was really nothing more to say on the matter of Gilman.
“Should I have punched him in the kisser?” Zach offered from the doorway.
That made me smile. “It wouldn’t take much effort, would it?” The idea of slender Gilman facing off against Zach was comical.
Zach shrugged, a grin tugging at his mouth. “I’m pretty sure you could drop him yourself, Lark. At least now I know it isn’tthatguy haunting your dreams.”
“What do you mean?” May asked, swiveling to study me. “Someone’s haunting your dreams?”
“Nah,” I said quickly, avoiding Zach’s suddenly guilty gaze. “But go ahead, May. You know you want to say it. Tell me you never liked him.”
My best friend sat down on the bed again. “It’s not nice to say ‘I told you so.’”
“Today you can say whatever you like.” I took another bite. This was good—both the chili and the company. Dissecting my failures with May had always been more fun than dissecting them alone.
May held her arms out, like a martyr on the cross. “Fine. He was too old for you.”
“He was twenty-eight!” I laughed.
