Page 40 of The Girl He Loves
“I used to work at the Gap when I was in high school. Loved it,” he tells me. “It gave me an excuse to dress well.”
My eyes grow wide. “So did I,” I tell him. “I worked there too. I loved it. Doing up the displays and dressing the dummies was my favorite part.” The memory tugs at my heart — one of life’s many heartbreaks. “I got fired though.”
“No way,” he says, curious. “What happened?”
“I kind of lost it on a kid who was messing up my displays,” I confess.
He laughs, not realizing how serious the incident was for me. “Oh, I get you. I used to hate the kids… I mean I love kids, but not when I was a teenager working at the Gap.”
Another beat of silence.
He glances up from his smoothie. “You and I… we should have met a long time ago,” he says. “We have so much in common.”
My heart is beating so widely, I fear it might explode. “We do.”
“I’m good with people… I mean, I love people,” he tells me, “ but Ijustmet you, and we already seem to click.”
I smile. “We do… we click.”
We click a little too much.
I stare down at his cool shoes as I polish off my tasty smoothie. Joel tells me this funny story about an elderly woman who came in to his salon, and brought a photo of Julia Roberts and asked him to make her look like the famous actress. I nod and smile, and take the opportunity to unapologetically stare at him and indulge in the beautiful perfect angles of his face. My intense attraction to him surprises me. Like Brian, the man could have been a model.
We’re still chatting about his salon as we step out of the smoothie shop. We say goodbye on a corner not far down the road. He gives me a quick friendly hug, and I smile as we say our goodbyes. I’m giddy all the way home, energized, my head crazy full of dopamine, and all those good chemicals which hit your brain when attraction enters the picture.
I know I’m behaving badly. I realize I’m acting crazy. Yet, how can I stop when it feels so damn good?
20
“Remember, Mom?” Tristan is saying.
I shake my head. “Sorry, remember what?”
He pouts and stares down at his plate of pasta. He looks so much like his father when he’s cross, same pouty lips and straight brow. “You weren’t even listening.”
“I’m sorry, Tristan. Mom’s tired. I just have a lot on my mind. Tell me what you were saying.”
“Never mind,” he says. “You should have been listening.” He digs his fork in his pasta.
He’s right. I should have been listening. Instead, I was obsessing over another man. But I’ve not only been thinking about him, I’ve been fixating on Renee and Brian too. They made a child together. And he’s hidden it from me for nineteen years. Every day, every meal shared together, every goodnight kiss, Brian had a secret. All those times he’s been as distracted as I am now, was he thinking about Ava?
I know exactly what I’ve been doing, why I’ve fallen so hard for Joel. I’ve been redirecting my emotions, avoiding the truth. I don’t want to see it. I have no desire to address it, to accept it. I don’t want to mess with the status quo. So I justify this ill-advised behavior. Brian cheated, Brian hid something from me. I can cheat too. I can have a secret life too.
What about Renee? Well, she knowingly slept with another woman’s boyfriend. She knew we were together — everyone at that party knew. If I want to have a taste of her husband, it’s only fair. Even the score.
I know exactly what Dr. Russell would say. She would say this is all a reaction to the anger I’m experiencing over all this, frustration I’m refusing to acknowledge.
True, I’ve been walking around like a zombie, pretending nothing bad has happened, pretending my whole life hasn’t just been turned on its head. Someone like me, who likes things just so, who compulsively desires order, just can’t deal with this in a healthy way.
I know all this, yet it won’t stop me.
But first and foremost, I am a mother. No matter what happens between Brian and I, the boys will always be my priority. “Hey, I was thinking we could play a game of Scattergories after dinner. What do you think?” I secretly hate that game, but I play it because I know the boys love it.
Tristan’s face lights up, and it makes me so happy. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
“You’re in, Trevor?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Sure.”
