Page 82 of Your Two Lips
Rex wandered over from Mom and Dad’s some nights when I left the garage door open as I worked on a bike. He sat on the concrete lip before the gravel started and looked out at my driveway.
“She isn’t coming buddy.” He’d usually flop down and rest his head on his front paws. I felt the same way.
I tried to remember step by step how it all went to hell. The anger was becoming fuzzy. Her smell, her skin, her lips only became clearer.
Since the heart attack, we hadn’t been back to our booth at the farmers’ market. The crew leaders volunteered to cover as they sometimes did, but Mom refused, saying there was already enough work going on. She called the food bank, and they were happy to come and collect all the vegetables we couldn’t can or freeze or give away. Watching vegetables go to waste was painful for a farmer, like throwing a painting in a fire for an artist.
The downside was I had no way to see Emily wandering the market stalls with the sun in her hair and her face lit up with a smile.
The grading for the resort had finished, and Lucas wrote the big check and one for Emily. One she had not yet cashed, which Lucas said was a sign it wasn’t over.
I hadn’t canceled the hold on the yurt kits I ordered. That would feel too permanent, and I wasn’t ready to face that yet. I was sure Dad had seen the grading work completed, but he never mentioned it, and neither did I.
Dan called earlier today and said the bikers were getting together at The Boathouse to play pool. I hadn’t been off this farm since my last trip to the hospital. I didn’t want to go anywhere again, but he was my best friend, and I needed to suck it up. So, I begrudgingly agreed and wondered if Emily would be there. If she was, what would I say?
The idea of seeing her and not touching her clenched my gut. The idea of not seeing her at all was worse. It had been two weeks, two days, and a handful of hours since I last saw her.
The Boathouse was busy for late September. We settled in for a few games of pool, and I watched the door more than I wanted to admit, hoping to catch a glimpse.
Angela eyed me. “Carrie said she isn’t coming.”
I sighed. No sense denying it. “Did Carrie say why? Is she okay?”
“Carrie didn’t say why. And, no, I don’t think she’s okay. She’s as miserable as you are. We’ve been biking. She puts on a smile and rides her ass off like usual, but she looks as bad as you do. All she says is you weren’t interested in seeing her anymore. Seeing you right now, that doesn’t seem right. Why does she think that?”
“Because I broke it off and asked her to leave.”
“And again, why?”
“The details are fuzzy.”
“Well, unfuzzy them. You two are both sad. Figure your shit out and be happy, for the sake of the world.” With that wisdom, she stepped away. Great.
Dan ordered a round of shots for everyone. Bourbon. The good stuff, and it made me miss Emily even more.
“What’s the occasion?” Alex asked over the din of the busy seating area nearby. Carrie stood close to Dan, and he looped an arm around her shoulders.
“Jake, we need one more. Carrie doesn’t have one,” Angela said as Jake passed out the shots.
“No, no.” Dan’s grin was huge. “Carrie can’t have any for at least,” he said as he flopped his head back and forth, “about five more months, right, babe?”
Carrie rested her hand on her stomach. “That’s right.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Angela shouted. Right. In. My. Ear. What the hell? Angela launched herself at Carrie, who was crying, and Dan was standing there like he was okay with it.
“We’re having a baby!” he yelled and raised his glass. “To Carrie, the love of my life!”
“To Carrie, the love of his life!” We all said in unison before taking the shot and lining up for the congratulations. Wow. A baby. A picture of Emily and me here making the same announcement flashed in my head. I needed another drink.
I was happy for my best friend, and I was jealous. The woman he wanted was standing right next to him.
I checked my watch. I had about twenty more minutes of tolerance for all this happiness. Carrie broke free from her well-wishers and wandered over to the bar where I was.
“Jake, you have any grapefruit juice?”
“Comin’ up.”
“Congratulations,” I said with as much energy as I could muster.
