Almost Broken (8 page)

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. What happened to moving on, leaving the past in the past? Just having a relationship for Caylen?”

“Who says I’m not doing that?!” I laugh in disbelief. I know I’m not, but they don’t know I’m not.

“Your face says it all!” I can’t be that easy to read.

“Hun. Don’t do this. I see this going so badly, and you know if anyone knows disaster waiting to happen it’s me,” she says, pointing to herself. I roll my eyes.

“I just want to be his friend. Can I at least be his friend?” I say defensively. Hillary sighs.

“Friends, Lauren. Really? What are you going to do, be his best man at his wedding after he divorces you and marries that other chic?” I feel my breath catch in my throat and Hillary looks down at her feet guiltily.

“Okay that was harsh.” She steps towards me, and I step back. I feel tears in my eyes, and my jaw stiffen.

“You know what, Hillary, you screw a lot of guys—a whole lot of fucking guys. And you know what I think? I think it’s stupid and dangerous, and you deserve better!” I spit back at her. Her eyes narrow in on mine.

“Say what you want, but I’m happy with my life. I know exactly what I want from the men that I choose to deal with. I don’t have any secret agendas or unrealistic expectations. When things don’t work out for me it doesn’t
break me
. That’s the difference between us. If I fuck five guys tonight, and they don’t call me, I don’t give a flying fuck. I won’t shut down. It won’t
immobilize me. If
this
goes wrong, can you say the same thing?” She walks to my door and turns around before she leaves.

“And FYI, what I tell you is because I care. Because you’re my best friend, not to be a bitch to you when you’re saying something I don’t want to hear,” she says quietly before leaving the room and closing the door behind her. I sit down on my bed and look at the missed call. The text alert goes off again, it’s Chris. I suddenly don’t feel as excited as I was to get a text message.

She hasn’t responded. She didn’t pick up her phone when I called either. She always responds right away whenever I text her. Usually it’s asking about Caylen, or to see if our Skype time is okay. This was different though. This time I wanted to talk to her. We haven’t really talked these past two weeks since they’ve been gone. Well when we Skype, we talk, but it’s pretty much about Caylen. Still, I watch her, how she is with Caylen, how much she loves her. I notice the way she smiles, how her hair falls in her face, the little giggle she does. Even though she’s usually wearing just a pony tail, and in sweats or a t-shirt, she’s beautiful.

I try to push thoughts like that out of my head. Every time they come, I tell myself how beautiful my fiancée is, how much I love Jenna. I tell myself that this is just curiosity or infatuation with Lauren, and it’s shallow, artificial and could ruin everything if it gets misinterpreted—if I misinterpret it.

I remind myself of that line that’s between me and Lauren. The one that’s there for a reason. That still didn’t stop me from texting her even when I knew Caylen was asleep. Or calling her to hear her voice I don’t know why or where this is coming from, but I know it needs to stop.

I’m supposed to see Jenna tomorrow for the first time since all of this happened. She stayed in Lansing for school. She’s coming up for the weekend. She sent me a text me and wants to meet once she gets back tomorrow. I hope seeing her will clear my head of all this confusion and get me back on track.

Lauren hasn’t called me back. I know there’s a plenty of reasons as to why. Maybe she fell asleep, or Caylen woke up, or she just doesn’t want to talk to me. I should call her again, just to make sure she’s okay. I stand up and let out a deep breath. I
shouldn’t
call her. We have nothing to talk about if it’s not about Caylen.

But really, we have everything to talk about since we really don’t know anything about each other. As parents, we should get to know each other. We should be friends. Being my daughter’s mom’s friend is okay, perfectly acceptable.

Yup, I’m calling.

I hit her name in my phone and hear the ringing tone again. It rings about four times, and I’m about to hang up when it stops.

“Hey.” Her voice is little above a whisper and flat. She sounds tired or sad, not what I was expecting from the tone of our last text.

“Is everything okay?” I ask concerned.

“Yeah, everything’s fine” she says, letting out a small sigh.

“Chinese food not turning your stomach is it?” I decide to joke, and she lets out a laugh. It makes me smile.

“I hate to tell you, but my stomach is the most satisfied part on me,” she kids back.
She’s funny
.

“Caylen tire you out?” I ask, feeling a little more relaxed since she seems to be in better spirits. I sit down on my bed and rest my elbow on my knee.

“Not really. My aunt Raven’s here today. I was able to get a little R&R,” she says, and I can tell from her tone that something’s bothering her.

“Then what’s wrong?” I ask her, and she’s quiet.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” she asks after a second, and I shrug even though she can’t see it.

“It doesn’t take a genius.” I laugh to lessen the tension.

“I got into a fight with my best friend,” she says hesitantly.

“A bad one?”
I guess.

“Yeah. I said something I really shouldn’t have, and I feel like a huge puppy kicker.” She sighs and I laugh.

“Are you laughing at me?” she asks, surprised.

“Puppy kicker?” I chuckle, and she pauses and then giggles.

It’s cute.

“Oh yeah. I’m sorry. Sometimes I drift into the code words I trained myself to use around Caylen. Before her, I had quite the potty mouth,” she explains, her voice is light and almost back to itself.

“What’s ‘puppy kicker’ a code word for?” I ask, lying back on my bed.

“Bitch.” She chuckles.

“Really? What other codes do you have?” I say, finding myself way too interested in this.

“Uhm. Well let’s see, poo, of course, for shit. Bottom mouth for a-hole. Diaper for douche. Frick for fuck.” She pauses at the last part and a moment of awkwardness slips in.

“Well puppy kicker is definitely the most creative,” I tease her, and I can tell she’s smiling.

“You think you could do better?” she says in a challenging tone.

“Hmm lets see. Ground licker for kiss ass, tree dung for shit, the classic darn-it for damn and for fuck, frechetta,” I rattle off.

“Did you come up with these off the top of your head, or do you secretly have a list or something?” she says, amidst laughter.

“Well let’s just say since I work with high schoolers and profanities are frowned upon, this isn’t the first time I’ve discussed code words.”

“Did you come up with freschetta because you love the pizza?”

“Of course,” I say.

It should be obvious.

“You are such a foodie!”

“Is that code word for fattie?” I ask sarcastically.

“No comment,” she says, covering up a laugh.

We talk about our favorite foods. Hers is any type of pasta. I tell her I’m easy. Steak and potatoes. She tells me about her best friends, Angela and Hillary. How she always wanted to go school in the city. She loves cats but is allergic to them, and if she had to live any other place in the world, it’d be Paris even though she’s never been. I tell her when I was younger I wanted to be a pilot. She finds it ironic that I’m afraid of heights. I joke that it’s more tragic than ironic. I tell her how even though Aidan can be a
ground licker
sometimes, he’s really a loyal friend. We talk about so much but avoid the obvious like her life with Cal, how I met Jenna, how things are going to go from here, but it’s nice and it’s
easy
, and I don’t even realize two hours have passed until Aidan texts me and asks why I’m not downstairs.

I was supposed to meet him for a run. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten, and she hadn’t either. I don’t want to get off the phone. She doesn’t seem like she wants to either, but it’s probably a good idea since it’s almost ten. I tell her goodnight, and she says not to eat too much before bed. I tell her I don’t eat that much, and we finally hang up. I feel good about our talk. No lines were crossed, and I’m much closer to being her friend than before the conversation. I throw on my shorts, gym shoes, and run down to meet Aidan. He’s like an old guy when it comes to being on time.

“Dude what the fuck? You were supposed to meet me down here twenty minutes ago?” he says, throwing his arms in the air.

“Lost track of time,” I say simply.

“And what’s with the goofy smile on your face,” he says, nudging me. I shove him back.

“Thinking about how I’m about to make wannabe Captain America eat my dust,” I say before taking off in front of him.

“So you cheat now?” he calls after me.

“Who said we were racing?” I call back to him before quickening my speed and furthering our distance.

“All that training and you’re still slower than your grandma!” I taunt him. When we reach our halfway mark, we both stop to catch our breath.

“So you seem to be in a ‘just got some’ mood today,” he jokes. I frown at him.

“You make up with Jenna?” he guesses.

“No, she’s coming home tomorrow though,” I inform him.

“You’ve been jerking off or something, then?” He laughs. I wave him off.

“You were late coming down for our run. You’re never late, and you had that just-fucked smile on your face.” He chuckles.

“You’re an idiot,” I say, sitting down on the ground.

“Hey, sometimes a man’s hand can be his best friend,” he says, flopping down next to me.

“I wasn’t jerking off. I was on the phone and lost track of time,” I say to shut him up. He gives me a disbelieving look.

“I was talking to Lauren,” I say, and a smug grin spreads across his face.

“How long were you guys on the phone?” he asks mischievously.

“Not that long,” I shrug. He gives me an incredulous look. “About two hours,” I finally admit.

“Get the fuck out!” he says, slapping me on the back.

“Dude, the only reason I stay on the phone with a girl that long is if I haven’t screwed her yet and it’ll better my chances, or she’s a hell of a dirty talker,” he laughs.

“Two hours isn’t that long.” I shrug.

“Okay, you’re right. You guys do have a lot to talk about. What did you find out?”

“Well we didn’t really talk about a lot of important stuff. I figured I’d save that for when she’s here, you know,” I say, pulling out my candy bar and opening it.

“Wait. So you were on the phone two hours just shooting the shit?” he says knowingly.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it that,” I explain hesitantly, and he starts to shake his head, chuckling.

“What?” I say as he stands up.

“You like her?” he asks, but it’s more like a statement.

“Yeah, she’s cool, and she has my kid.” I defend.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“It’s not like that. I want to be her friend and friends should have something to talk about.”

“You and I have been friends our whole lives, and we’ve never talked on the phone like that,” he says as we start to walk back towards the house.

“Awww, what? Are you jealous”? I kid, and he laughs.

“How about you and Lisa? You guys talk that long?” he asks, folding his arms, and the only answer I have is one that will strengthen his case.

“I didn’t plan on talking to her that long,” I admit. As we start to speed up our pace.

“You better watch yourself, Scott.” He chuckles as he runs ahead of me. We end up running about two miles there, and back. Aidan wins by almost a half a block. I guess they did teach him something in the army.

“I’m starving,” he says as he catches his breath.

“Me too,” I reply as walk the rest of the distance between us, inhaling as much air as I can.

“Let’s go get some burgers,” he says, grabbing a water bottle off my porch and downing it.

“I want breakfast.”

“You always want breakfast it’s almost eleven at night,” he says, whining like a four year old.

“We can grab some burgers, and I can drop you off and get to my next workout plan for the evening,” he says with a wink.

“I’m going to go fry some bacon,” I say, heading into the house.

“Screw it. Throw me on some eggs,” he relents, following me.

“So what’s this one’s name?” I ask as I open the door.

“Rachel, and the body on th—” he stops mid-sentence as we see Jenna sitting at the kitchen table with her hands folded.

“Jenna,” I say happily.

“I figured you’d gone out on your run,” she replies quietly, a barely-there smile on her face.

“Hey Aidan,” she says, throwing a quick glance his way.

“What’s up, Jenna?” he responds back dryly. The two have never really warmed up to each other. Jenna thinks he’s a chauvinistic pig. Aidan thinks she’s high-strung and boring so we all never have hung out much. I look and back at Aidan.

“Rain check on breakfast,” I say, and he nods quickly, heading out the door. I lock it behind him and see Jenna’s stood up. I lean back against the door, and we both stare at each other for a couple of seconds. I want to pull her towards me and hug her, but her expression is stoic, and I’m unsure how to approach her.

“When did you get back?” I ask her hesitantly. I search for the ring on her finger, and I don’t see it there. My heart drops.

“This afternoon. You want to sit down?” she asks, gesturing towards the seat across from her. I nod and pull out the chair across from her. She’s rubbing her hands together, and I take a chance and pull hers into mine. She lets out a breath.

“Where’s your ring?” I ask her quietly. Her eyes watch my hands as they embrace hers.

“I still have it. I just haven’t decided where to put it yet,” she replies and her hands slip out of mine. “So how are things?” she asks her blue eyes surveying me. When my mom was sick, they were the only things that made me feel better. They were piercing and stern. She didn’t allow me to wallow in self-pity. Her stare can be intimidating, one that’s going to be really useful for her once she’s a lawyer. I’m used to it, but this time it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.