Page 57 of Even After This
I place the tips of my fingers on my lips, almost able to still feel his pressed against mine. I must be terrible at interpreting a kiss. No. Kisses.
I’m so stupid. I’m so very, very stupid.
The shuttle jerks me forward as it pulls away from the hotel. My phone chimes to alert me of an incoming text message. I’m not in touch with my body’s automatic response to pick it up and check the screen.
Claire
You’re coming home today! I want the story on this boy you kissed.
I fight back the next round of tears. I’ll tell her someday. But I don’t want to go into it now.
It turned out to be nothing.
Love you.
And that was Claire. She knew I’d tell her when I was ready.
I set my phone down, and after a few minutes of swallowing down my emotions, I hear it chime again.
Stanley
Safe travels today. Can’t wait to see you.
Great. The beautiful man I kissed was just embracing his ex-wife and their child, and Mr. Good Option just texted me.
13
“Meredith? Did youhearwhat I said? I’ve got your schedule lined up for the week.” Molly slows her red Ford Explorer to pass through the DFW airport toll booth.
Staring out the passenger window, I nod. “Yeah. Schedule.”
“The food pantry is starting to get busy with the upcoming holiday season. The director said they could use you a few more hours a week.” She sets her blinker and exits onto 635 East.
Her proposed calendar for my life feels like a needle pricking at my skin.
Molly settles the car in her chosen lane and accelerates. “The animal shelter always needs people to walk the dogs, but adoptions don’t kick up until much closer to Christmas.”
Prick.
“The only other volunteer thing I have for you right now is with the church. They’re working on Octoberfest.”
Prick.
My cell, settled deep in my purse, alerts me to an incoming text. If it’s Stanley, I want to cringe. If it’s Harlan, I want to cry. Ignoring the pang in my heart, I refuse to reach for the phone.
I hold my gaze on the passing cars, hoping my sister doesn’t see the semi-permanent sheen of tears in my eyes. “We should combine efforts with these volunteer jobs to multitask,” I say. “Let’s dress the dogs in tutus and trick-or-treat at the festival booths for canned goods.”
My sister doesn’t laugh at my lame joke. “I think the church could also use some help updating information after the recent financial campaign.”
Another prick.
Seething with frustration, I can’t hold back any longer. “Can I ask you a question, Molly?”
“Francine Clyde is the point person.” She adjusts the rearview mirror. “Yesterday I left her a message asking when she wants to train you on the database system. I assume you’ll be in town now because, thank God, you didn’t follow through on your whim to purchase property in Colorado.”
Prick. Prick. Prick. The tingles on my skin intensify to pain. I reach over to squeeze her arm. “Molly.”
She glances at my hand, then back at the road. “What?”
