Epiphany (5 page)

“So … dinner tonight, just us?” Skylar reiterates.

“I haven’t really had a chance to talk to my mom about the engagement. I’ll probably
try to catch up with her later on. Maybe get some ideas where to start in this wedding
planning stuff. You have things you can do, right?
Something at the shop?”

Third time’s a charm?

“Yeah, I can find something to do. There’s always something to work on.”

I quit. I’m done. There’s absolutely no hope for him.

“Alright.
I’ll talk to you later, then.” I excuse myself from the table, rush into the master
bathroom and lock the door. I can only take so much of him omitting information.
I know I should just ask him like a real adult, but I want Skylar to feel comfortable
talking to me, telling me what’s going on in his life. Why is it important enough
for Danny to know, but not me? They just talked about it hours before Danny told
me. It couldn’t have slipped his mind. There’s a reason behind my not knowing, and
it’s eating at me.

After scalding my body with water as hot as I can withstand and dancing around washing
my body to some Spice Girls, most of the stress washes down the drain. It’s silly
and girly, but it usually does the trick. Yet again, my method works.

Dressing in a pair of black yoga pants, a black tee shirt with a saying from one of
my favorite books, and towel drying my hair just enough to not be sopping wet, I throw
it up in another bun. I’m ready to start my day … again.

On the dining room table, I find the mess Skylar left when he took off. He couldn’t
have stayed more than a few minutes after I got in the shower. Whatever it was that
he needed to get to must be pretty important for him not to finish his bagel or throw
his cup in the sink.

I quickly straighten up the kitchen and start the dishwasher. When I come home later,
my mood is probably going to be shitty again and the last thing I need is to walk
into a dirty house.

Pulling a hoodie over my head and grabbing a pair of sneakers from the closet, I fling
my purse over my shoulder and take the elevator to the parking garage.

Heading to my car, I hear someone call my name. Once I register who it is, I snap.
Since leaving Kylee’s yesterday and wondering about Skylar’s whereabouts, I totally
forgot that she’s been missing for three days now. I consider ignoring her, but the
garage isn’t that big and she’s bound to catch up to me. Best to hash this out right
now so I can move on with the impromptu meeting at my mom’s.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I’ve been scared shitless that some creeper kidnapped and threw
my best friend in a well. It doesn’t look like you’ve been putting lotion on your
skin, so what the fuck happened?”

“I was lost in writing, that’s all. I was home the entire time. Why didn’t you use
your key?”
Oh, sweet Kylee, today’s not the day to be a smart ass, I promise you that.

“If you were on some crazy sex bender, I didn’t want to be part of it. I knew when
you left our Pitch Perfect dance party that something was off. I knew that you were
freaking out about Jacoby and his daughter. I figured you were either dead or letting
the first string seniors at U of M run a train on you, trying to fuck Jacoby out of
your mind. I didn’t want to stumble into either scenario.” Long winded, I know,
but hell if every ounce of frustration and stress I washed down the drain doesn’t
come back with a vengeance—kinda like the hair that gets caught in the drain. You
think it’s gone, but it’s just there waiting to fuck with you again.

“Well, I’m glad you think so highly of me,” Kylee whispers. I should be concerned
with hurting her feelings, but if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times—if
you say it, you better own that shit.

“You don’t get to flip this around. You leave my house late at night after coming
over because you’re upset. You don’t answer your phone or the door. You scared me,”
I say, trying to hold strong, but the girl who’s planned her wedding in her head since
she was six comes sneaking into the conversation.

“Don’t
fucking do it again or I’ll cut you out of my wedding.” Let’s see if she picks up
on my subtlety.

“Skylar proposed?” She wins. Finally, someone today gets it. I want to be upset
with her and be a bitch, but truth be told, I’ve never been able to stay angry with
Kylee. That’s the tricky thing about unconditional love—you can’t just stop, it lasts
forever.

“He did. It was magical and I wish that my best friend was the first person I told.
I tried to keep it in,
Ky
, I really did, but I had to tell someone. Danny’s so happy for us.” And here comes
the lie word
vomit, but I’m on a roll here. “I was worried he would freak, but he and Melissa
already gave us their RSVP.”

“I’m so happy for you, Mi. Let me see that ring.” I feel with my fingers, making
sure I didn’t take it off in a fit of anger. Touching the cool metal on the tips
of my thumb, I thrust my hand forward, showing off my one of a kind ring. Just seeing
the black encircled by red makes me almost forget how much I want to kick Skylar’s
ass.
Almost.

“I really do have to go, though. I’m not ignoring you. Skylar needs some dinner
taken to him at the shop since he’s doing to be there a few more hours. You know
how he gets when he’s hungry.” I have to get out of here before she catches on to
the lies. They say, to make a lie believable, don’t give too much detail—keep it
natural. But here I am, giving her every unnecessary detail. If anyone ever drags
me on the Maury show, I’m pretty much fucked before I even get on the airplane.

The lie detector test has determined that you ARE a full of shit liar and a terrible
friend.

“Okay, I’ll come by next week and we’ll catch up. I need to meet Jacoby at his house
anyway.”

Hugging Kylee goodbye, I’m feeling rather guilty for being such a dick … oh and being
a liar. I consider calling her in a few minutes, once we’re not face to face, and
repenting for my indiscretion, but I decide against it. There’s nothing I can say
to repent for this. Who lies to their best friend about stupid shit that doesn’t
matter? I’ll look like the craziest bat in the cave. It’s embarrassing enough to
think that your man’s cheating on you, but to spread that information like wildfire—that’s
just nuts.

I’ll make it up to her somehow.
Probably with cupcakes and a bottle of wine.
Yeah, that sounds like the perfect plan.

Angling into the car, I make my way to my mom’s house. Hopefully, she’ll say something
that I won’t understand the meaning of today, but tomorrow will make a whole lot of
sense.

CHAPTER SIX

Mira

“Ma.
Where are you? I’ve been knocking on your door for at least five minutes.”

“I’m not home, Mira,” she responds nonchalantly.

“But your car’s here.” Something tells me to not press the issue. That I won’t like
the answer she’ll give me.

“Sweetheart, I’m with a
friend,”
she says in a hushed tone. The sound of male laughter comes across the line.
She’s with a man?
I’ve heard stories about Linda and Patty, but those don’t sound like dude names
to me.

“What friend, Mom?” I ask, skeptical as she’s never once mentioned a male friend in
all the times we’ve spoken over the last few months which isn’t like her. If there’s
something new, it doesn’t matter the time, my phone’s a ringing, getting told stories
of blood moons and who said what at church. The gossip train stops at her house at
regular intervals.

“Mira,” she warns. I’ve not gotten this tone since I was sixteen and was running
around the pharmacy asking for the hemorrhoid cream that my mom needed terribly.
Well not really, but it was funny as hell at the time. Kylee and I caught a lot of
shit that day.

“Mother,” I scold back, not letting her brush this one under the rug. Seven years
ago, I would have dropped it, but not this time. I’m a grown up now and I’ve learned
the art of matching tone with her.

“
His
name is Chip. He had some work things to tie up in Traverse City and asked me to
join him. So I did, and we’re having a relaxing weekend up here.”
So, we just run off with strange men on a whim?

Chip?
Chip
! No. I’m totally down for my mother finding her happiness and getting back into
the dating pool. Shit, it’s been at least ten years since she last went out with
a man that wasn’t strictly platonic. But Chip? Come
on,
is that even a real name? If she says she met him on an internet dating site, I
might have to give her the same speech she gave me when we first got a computer.
Stranger danger and all that mess.

“Well, when will you and
Chip
be home? I have some things to talk to you about.” I’m barely able to keep a straight
face while saying his name. I really hope that she doesn’t expect me to meet him
until I can say it without cracking a smile or laughing uncontrollably.

“We’re taking a long weekend. Honey, when are we going home? Tuesday?” she asks
her
friend
.

Hold the phone. Chip is honey? Honey is Chip? Am I in a twilight zone? I can’t
remember my mother ever calling my father by anything but his name and she gets on
Skylar’s ass for calling me Sweets instead of my given name. What in the world is
happening? Scanning my surroundings for any sign of an impending apocalypse, I’m
proven wrong by the kids across the street building a snowman out of the melting snow.
Nope. There’s now no excuse for her behavior.

A muffled voice, like she’s holding her hand over the receiver, sounds in agreement
to her Tuesday assessment.

“Yep.
I’ll be home on Tuesday.”
Yeah, mom, I heard that already.
My face twists in disgust when a kissing noise follows. With my stomach cringing
and my lips snarled together, I try to end the call as quickly as possible.

“Alright, I’ll come by then,” I concede, standing up from the stoop and walking back
to my car.

“You okay, baby girl?” she asks with the motherly concern I’ve need today more than
I have in a while.

“Yeah, Ma.
I’m good. Just need to talk. Have some mommy time.” It’s been quite a long time
since I’ve called her anything but mom or ma, let alone think of calling her mommy.
It’s kind of sad how much things have changed over the years. Okay, I can’t do this
again—thinking about the past and getting all upset about it.
Get your shit together, Mira. Time to act like the adult you are.

“Okay, then. I’ll see you Tuesday. I’ll cook us a good dinner. Maybe some pork
chops and au gratin potatoes?”

“That sounds amazing, Mom. Have a good time and call me when you’re home and settled.”

“Okay, love you, precious.”

“Love you, too. Bye.” I hit the end button and toss the phone into my purse.

A small smile crosses my lips. Telling myself she met him at church or the grocery
store, I’m happy my mom has finally found someone. Regardless of my feelings toward
a certain penis card carrying man, the fact that she’s not alone anymore makes me
happy. I just wish his name wasn’t Chip.

Sitting in the driveway, unsure of where to go, my mind flies back to my own problems.
Do I go home, where I’ll most likely be alone until Skylar decides to grace me with
his presence? Do I track down Kylee, who I know is at Jacoby’s house? I could call
Danny and see if we can talk now.

I hate making decisions. It kind of appears that no matter what door I choose, I’m
alone or the third wheel. Damn Skylar for putting me in this position.

Without another thought, I put the car in reverse, pull out of the driveway and hope
my choice won’t bite me in the ass.

My first stop is the shop. Even though I know in my gut that Sky isn’t here, I have
to give him the benefit of the doubt if I’ll be able to call him out on it later.

I park in the lot behind the building, not seeing any other cars. It’s not really
a tell tale sign that he’s not here, since they can park inside, so I proceed to the
entrance. Trying to turn the handle, I’m met with resistance.
Locked.

I hit the afterhours
buzzer next to the door, but it goes unanswered. Getting frustrated, I walk to the
front of the building, only to see a sign on the window that says:

Shop is CLOSED. For emergencies call 313-777-7777.

So … it’s true. He’s closed up shop,
literally
, and didn’t think to tell me. I really do hate when Danny’s right. I’m not sure
what bothers me more—the fact that Skylar felt the need to talk to Danny about this
or that he didn’t talk to me. It’s a pretty fucked up situation any way you look
at it.

Getting back in the car, I go to the next logical stop on my mission to track down
my fiancé … the Hooliganz clubhouse.

I don’t have to wait at the gate too long before the probe, Brock, opens without hesitation.
I sometimes wonder if every new prospect has to learn the faces and cars of all the
wives or girlfriends. I’ve never had to wait more than a few minutes. Either I’m
right or security these days is lax.

Pulling through to the lot, I examine the cars and bikes parked around. My stomach
recoils, threatening to spill its contents, when I don’t see Skylar’s truck. Some
of these crazies insist on riding year round, snow and ice
be
damned. At least Sky has a little sense to only ride when the roads are free of
salt, pot holes and a below freezing temperature.

Now that I’m here, I need to go inside for something. There are cameras all over
this building, including the exterior, and they can all see me standing here like
some kind of stalker. Leaving before seeing anyone just screams, “crazy
girlfriend,” and that’s something I can’t have.