Anything Less Than Everything (10 page)

He let out a
laugh devoid of humor. “It’s hard enough to date when people aren’t watching
you or trying to get something from you. Add in a few vultures looking for
popularity they think I can get them, and it’s not really worth the trouble.”

“Not even for
the right girl?” I asked. He’d been quick to tell me that relationships were as
uncomplicated as finding the right person. I needed to remind him to take his
own advice.

“For the
right girl,” he said, “I’d do anything and everything.”

T
he Fourth of July. For most it’s a holiday; for
retail, it’s mayhem.

Dwell was
packed when I arrived at 10 am, a half an hour before I was scheduled. People
were crowding the aisles, clamoring for deals on last minute decorations for
their cookouts, scoping out the new fall merchandise that had just arrived.
Nearly all of them had light blue cards in their hands—fliers for the class I
was teaching in an hour.

I found Caryn
in a back corner, trying to help a customer decide between a bronze and a
tortoise shell mirror. When she glanced up and caught my eye, she excused
herself from the customer and walked over to me. “Do you have everything you
need?” she asked.

“I think so,”
I replied, “except maybe some Valium.”

Caryn smiled.
“You’ll do fine, honey. You teach teenagers, for goodness sakes. This oughta be
a piece of cake compared to that, right?” You would think, but in fact, talking
to a few adults for twenty minutes was way scarier to me than thirty
seventeen-year-olds. It was probably the subject matter. I hardly felt like an
expert in home décor, even if Caryn constantly praised my work and asked for my
input.

“We’ve had
lots of people asking about it,” she continued. “Go make sure you have everything
ready. We’ll take care of things out here.”

She had
already placed a table beside the display room I’d be making over. It stood
empty and ready for me to transform the space for fall. I was glad I had come
in the night before and organized all of my products. All I had to do was move
the baskets of accessories to the front of the store and put them in the
correct order. Customers kept stopping me, asking where they could find glass
vases, or where we kept the throw pillows. Of course I answered each question,
pointed out directions. As a result, though, even with all my careful planning,
I barely finished setting up in time.

Mom entered
the store with Jill in tow five minutes before eleven. I saw her walk over to
the display area, take a flier, help herself to the refreshments Caryn had
provided. I backed into the storeroom, making sure she didn’t see me.
Deep
breaths, Brooke.
My mother’s presence only added to my nerves. Was she here
to watch me go down in flames? To be able to say I told you so? I grabbed a
bottle of water from the mini fridge. Then I dug around in my purse for my
compact and lipstick. If I was going to fall on my face, I could at least look
good doing it. A flashing light on my phone caught my attention, so I took it
out and touched the screen to life. A text message. From Aaron. Even before
reading it my heart started returning to a normal rhythm, my breathing slowed.
I know you’ll do great today. Can’t wait to hear about it!
Now I was ready.
I pulled my new monogrammed apron over my head, tied it around my waist, and
headed out to meet the waiting crowd.

It wasn’t
until the store closed that I was finally able to remove my apron and catch my
breath, though the class had ended three hours earlier. When I had left the
safety of the storeroom, I’d walked out to the sight of people crowded into the
aisles, craning their necks to catch what was going on; we’d run out of chairs
long before Caryn introduced me to the audience. She’d hung in the back,
watching, observing customer reactions more than my demonstration. My nerves
vanished as soon as I began and saw so many people furiously scribbling notes,
hanging on every my word. I didn’t lose my train of thought once. Everything I
needed had made it to the table. Nothing fell. Afterwards a long line had
formed with people asking questions, wanting help finding products to give them
the same look with different colors or in a different size. My mother touched
my arm as I led a middle-aged woman to the floral section.

“Brooke, I
had no idea you had such an eye for decor, dear.” I smiled, embarrassed. I
wasn’t used to praise from my mother. “You were great. Really great.”

“Thanks,
Mom,” I replied. “Um, I’ve gotta go help this lady. But I’ll talk to you
tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes, I’d
like that,” she said, squeezing my arm. “How about lunch at the tea room?” The
tea room was Mom’s favorite restaurant, a tiny place she only went on special
occasions. I nodded, smiling.

Back in the
present, Caryn stood at the register, counting the day’s take. “Amazing,” she
said, shaking her head. She looked up at me. “Do you have any idea how much we
did in sales today?” By the look on her face and tone of her voice, I assumed
it was good, but she didn’t give me a chance to guess or even ask. “In the two
hours following your demonstration we sold as much as we did in the past two
days. Amazing,” she said again.

That was
irrefutable proof that I had done a good job. Caryn was right: I’m a teacher. I
teach. Apparently, the content was irrelevant.  I left Dwell with a lightness
to my step. I killed the demonstration and Mom was being nice. Hopefully the
cookout I was heading to would be equally as wonderful.

I guess two
out of three isn’t so bad.

I should have
known, really. Jill had been keeping her distance since the Carson incident,
but she insisted I attend this party with her. The one that, despite her
denials, was sure to have guys she was itching to set me up with. I tried for
days to get out of it, using every excuse I could think of. I failed. In the
end I agreed to go for lack of something better to do. Marcie was vacationing
at the beach with her sisters; everyone else I knew seemed to be out of town,
as well. And so I went. I was actually in a good mood despite my reservations.
Fireworks, food--it couldn’t be that bad. Right?

We arrived
around 7:30. People filled every square inch of Leighann’s yard, and the smell
of charcoal welcomed us, invited us closer. Jill immediately found Dave and
left me to my own devices.

I didn’t know
many of the guests--it was more Jill’s crowd than mine--but I did see a few
acquaintances from high school, and even one I’d had some education classes
with in college. I stopped and spoke, smiling and being polite. But that was
about as far as I could get: being polite. I had never had much in common with
these people, and had even less so now. Nothing against them; we were just
different. Met of them were still regulars on the party circuit while I had a
career that kept me planning and grading papers most nights. They were young,
or at least young at heart, while I was the boring old woman. Despite my best
efforts (and, yes, I really did try), I could not get the conversation to move
beyond pleasantries.

As I
disengaged myself from an awkward conversation with another of Spencer’s exes,
I caught a glimpse of Leighann talking to a guy who looked vaguely familiar. I
approached her, eager to talk to someone I actually
knew
. It wasn’t
until I got there and saw the guy embrace her that I realized who it was.

“Brad?” I’m
not sure why it came out as a question, because it was definitely him. I hadn’t
heard from him since the day on the lake, but apparently things had gone well
that day for him and Leighann.

“Hey, cuz!”
he said, letting go of Leighann and coming to hug me instead. She was beaming.

“I didn’t
know you were back in town,” I said.

“Neither did
I,” Leighann said. “He surprised me.”

“So I guess
one of Jill’s plans finally worked,” I said, nodding towards the pair. They
both looked away a little awkwardly.

“Hey!”
Leighann said, changing the subject. “How did your thing go today? Jill said
your mom was going...”

“Actually, it
was great. Surprisingly so.”

“You mean the
class you were teaching at that store?” The fact that this came from Brad confused
me.

“How did you
know about that?” I asked.

“Aaron
mentioned it the other day,” he said with a shrug. “Have you talked to him
lately?”

“Not today,”
I said, immediately realizing how that sounded. Leighann picked up on it.

“Waiiiit a
minute. You and Aaron? Really???” I felt my cheeks burning and hoped the
quickening darkness would hide it from them.

“It’s not
like that,” I said. “But we have become good friends.”

“Must be
really
good friends if he knew all about your new job and teaching that class,” she
said, a note of accusation ringing in her voice.

I realized I
was being stupid, cowering under her comments. More than that, I was making
myself an easy target. “We are, but that’s it,” I said with more conviction.
“And,” I added, “we are both more than content with that, so don’t pull a Jill
and try to make it into something more.” Brad was smiling, but more out of the
humor of the situation than teasing me. I could tell Leighann’s wheels were
turning, that she was unconvinced. “A little help, Brad?” I pleaded.

He
straightened his face. “She’s right, or at least that’s Aaron’s story, too.”

“Hmmm...,"
Leighann said, finger tapping her chin as though she were deep in thought.

“Leigh,
seriously. We’ve got a good thing going. Please don’t mess it up by meddling. I
already have enough of that in my life.”

“Oh that
reminds me,” she said, a hint of concern in her voice. “Carson’s here.” I
rolled my eyes. I really wanted to just leave, as this night was not living up
to the standard set by the day, but I had ridden with Jill, so I was stuck. “I
didn’t invite him, I promise. He came with some other guys.”

“Wonderful,”
I said. There was really no use in hiding from him; the yard was too small for
that, and whether I stayed with the group or not, he could find me if he wanted
to.

I could tell
Brad and Leighann had some, er, catching up to do, so I wandered off to the
edge of the yard, as far away from the crowd and the noise as possible, and
leaned against the split rail fence. The fireworks would be starting before long;
afterwards I could leave. Smoke from bottle rockets and Roman candles mixed
with the pinks and oranges of the darkening sky. There was something still and
quiet about it, even with the party sounds nearby. I’d been so busy between the
move and working and trying to reconnect with friends that I couldn’t even
remember the last time I had walked outside with no purpose in mind, no
destination in sight.

I was looking
off to my right, so I didn’t see Carson walk up on my left. “Sup, Brooke,” he
slurred, the red cup in his hand evidence of the reason. I shuddered. I didn’t
really want company, especially not Carson’s company. Especially not when he
was drunk.

I backed up a
bit, putting some space between us. “Hi, Carson. How are you?” I made sure to
keep my tone polite, but not overly friendly. He needed to know that I was not
interested.

“What’re you
doing out here all by your lonesome?” he asked.

“Um, I just
wanted a break, I guess,” I replied.

“It’s not
good for a pretty girl like you to be alone in the dark,” he said. “Boogie Man
might getcha.” Now I was moving from annoyed to disgusted. His behavior was the
reason I rarely drank: I couldn’t stand not being in control, and equally
despised others who were not.

“I think I
can hold my own. If the Boogie Man has been up at the party, he likely won’t be
able to walk straight anyway.”

Carson
slapped his knee and let out a big belly laugh. How did Jill think I would ever
be interested in him? He was soft around the middle, and his shirt--a loud
obnoxious orange--sported a ketchup stain. Not that these were huge flaws, but
it definitely proved that he did not
#21 care about his appearance
.
“Funny and pretty,” he continued. “Now that’s a combination I like.”

He was moving
nearer to me incrementally. And while this didn’t exactly scare me, it did make
me uncomfortable. My gut told me that if I tried to walk away he would grab my
arm or something to stop me. That could get ugly fast. And so I hoped instead
that someone would wander this way, distract him.

At that exact
moment my phone rang. I didn’t have to look at the screen to know it was Aaron,
once again saving me. “Um, sorry, Carson,” I said, “but I really need to take
this call. See you around.” And I really did need to take the call. The next
morning Aaron would be leaving for his team’s senior retreat, some three day
male bonding ritual where communication with the outside world was strictly
forbidden. The coach literally took their cell phones and left them in his
office for the duration of the trip. With the exception of that one horrible
day, we’d talked at least once every day since that first call from camp. A few
days of not talking to a friend should not have been a big deal, but I was
dreading it immensely.

“Your timing
is impeccable,” I said by way of answering. I walked quickly away from Carson
and headed a little closer to the rest of the party.

“Hmm...,” he
said. “Let me guess: Jill?”

“Close,” I
said. “What’s up?”

“Just
finishing out a great Fourth of July. Good food, good music, good friends. All
that’s missing is you.”

I rolled my
eyes. “Whatever. What about the fireworks?” I knew that he had gone to a
festival/concert with some of his buddies after work, and that he was probably
still there.