Read Little Miss Lovesick Online
Authors: Kitty Bucholtz
“That’s what best friends are for, remember? Now get up. I’ll go start the shower for you.”
It should’ve come as no surprise to me that Emily was absolutely correct. The shower made me fee
l
muc
h
better. Between clean clothes, clean hair and som
e
amazin
g
broccoli and cheese soup, I knew I was once again in the land of the living.
“Feel like talking now?” Em asked as she took the bowls to the kitchen. She brought back two tall glasses of water. “Drink this. You’re probably dehydrated.”
“I had a plan, you know. The Slocum’s had a plan and they got everything they wanted. So I decided to do the same. But it didn’t work. I couldn’t even fix myself, let alone other people.” This was so depressing. Still, it felt less horrible when Emily was here. At least I wasn’t alone.
We curled up on opposite ends of the couch, facing each other, like we’d done for every other heart-to-heart. Only no chocolate or ice cream or anything. Em was afraid I might throw up again.
“Why not? What didn’t work?”
I got up and pulled The Plan out of my briefcase. I handed it to her and sat down again, hugging a pillow to my chest. She read it without saying anything.
“What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I be happy? That’s all I want. But it seems like all I do is work to make other people happy, then they leave. I find people the perfect house, and they buy it and leave. I can’t find people the perfect house, and they leave me for another agent. I give Dirk love, support, loyalty, everything. He gives me nothing. Well, a couple good years of keeping my hopes up, then Heartbreak.”
“That’s not ‘nothing,’” said Em.
“It sure as shit isn’t.”
She chuckled. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you.”
I sighed. “I don’t know what to do. Why didn’t my plan work?”
Emily watched me silently. I knew she was waiting for me to tell her it was okay to speak her mind. That’s one of the things I love about her, she never forces her opinions on people. Which is why I value her opinion.
“Tell me,” I said. I swore to myself I’d do whatever she said if it eve
n
sort o
f
sounded like it might work.
“People are happy or unhappy because they choose to be,” she said gently.
“I didn’
t
choos
e
to be unhappy. I was unhappy because Dirk led me to believe we’d get married and—”
“Dirk made choices and you made choices. You chose to not get over the hurt.”
“Okay, but Matt made like he liked me, then was all cool, then made like he liked me again, then completely blew me off! I didn’t make any of that happen.”
“Have you ever thought that Matt might have more on his mind than Sydney Riley’s happiness?”
Ouch. I played with the edge of the pillow, remembering my conversation with Patty. “Patty told me some things about his parents. I think he’s afraid he might turn out like his father.” I looked up at Em. “He left when Matt was little and never came back.”
Em made a sympathetic face. She rearranged herself on the cushions.
“Remember what you told me on the ride home from the fishing trip? You said you were sitting on the porch and realized you ha
d
decide
d
to find some peace up there in the woods. And yo
u
di
d
. But I think it’s a daily choice, regardless of what’s going on around you. Whether you’re on vacation or home dealing with your problems. That’s goes for you and Matt both. He’ll have to choose to be a better man than his dad — or not.”
We sat quietly, thinking. I drank some more water. “Do you think I’m like Ashley Judd’s character i
n
Someone Like Yo
u
? You know, blaming everyone else and not realizing she caused a lot of her own problems?”
Em smiled. “You really do watch too many movies. No, I don’t think you’re that messed up. After all, you’ve never unveiled your fake identity on national television, right?”
I smiled and shook my head.
“But she got things figured out in the end, and so will you.”
“She got Hugh Jackman in the end. Maybe Matt could be Hugh Jackman.”
Emily laughed. “But will you find that he’s a romantic-at-heart TV producer, or a cigar-smoking mutant with claws?”
I finally laughed. Oh, that felt good. “I think I’d take Matt either way.” I sighed. I didn’t feel that good anymore. Because I wasn’t ever going to get Matt. I told Emily so.
“Do you love him?” she asked quietly.
I shrugged. “Don’t want to think about it.” I traced the pattern in the couch cushion. “When we came back from the fishing trip, I made a list of qualities I’d like to find in a man.” I didn’t look at Em. “Based on him.”
She looked thoughtful. “If you ask me, part of the reason your plan didn’t work is because you did it all by yourself. I think these things require group effort. That’s probably why it worked for the Slocum’s — they did it together.” She looked at The Plan, then put it on the coffee table. “So you and Matt had a fight, right?”
I grunted. “You could say that.”
“Do you think you could get him to talk to you again? Have lunch?”
“Not in a million years.”
“Perfect!”
I looked up. “How is that perfect?”
“’Cause you’ve got nothing to lose!”
SINCE I had already completed (or messed up) most of the items on The Plan, Em and I only worked on two areas for The New Plan — GT and Matt. She didn’t really have any thoughts for helping me with GT, but when I told her my idea, she thought it was wonderful and wrote it down.
Then we worked out a plan to win Matt back — if it were possible. It was daring, with a huge chance I’d be humiliated again. But Em was right. I’d never run into him in all the time I’d lived here until we both ended up working for GT at the same time. If he chose to blow me off, there was a really good chance I’d never see him again. That was the only thing giving me courage.
Perry called Friday morning and told me not to come into the office until Monday. Didn’t want anyone else to get sick. I didn’t try to explain, but thanked him for his kindness. I sat at the kitchen table and did an Internet search on the house GT liked so much. An hour or two and a couple of phone calls later, I leaned back in my chair and took a deep breath. I’d never done anything like this before.
I picked up my phone and dialed.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Mrs. Andrews?”
“Speaking.”
“Hi, my name is Sydney Riley. I’m a realtor with By the Bay Properties. I have kind of a strange question for you.”
BY FRIDAY night, I was feeling much better and agreed to go out with Em and Geoff. Sorry
,
Geoffre
y
. He treated us to a little Italian place that was crazy busy. When the maître d' greeted him by name, I realized he wasn’t kidding when he said he came here all the time.
I looked for all the things Emily had gushed about in her man, and — I can’t lie — I looked for hidden faults as well. I kept reminding myself
,
I choose to be happy for Emily, I choose not to be jealou
s
. Surprisingly, the fake-it-until-you-make-it advice of my old teacher was still working. I had a great evening. By the end of the night, I had no doubt that the two lovebirds were equally smitten.
They’r
e
s
o
cut
e
, sighed Little Miss Lovesick.
It was true. They were.
Saturday, I decided to try and catch up a bit at the office, just for an hour or two. I threw on shorts and a polo shirt thinking I might wander around downtown to catch some sun and a bit of exercise. Which I desperately needed after my binge eating lately. Some of my shorts were too tight for comfort. I planned to work on healthier habits all around.
As I was leaving, a young couple walked in. “Can I help you?”
“Hi, we were just walking by,” said the guy.
“We were wondering how to find out, you know, what you need to have, or do, or whatever, to buy a house,” the girl said.
“Yeah.” He put his arm around her and they grinned at each other. “How does this work?”
I tried to tame my smile so it wouldn’t look like I was laughing at them. If they were old enough to drink, I’d be surprised. They looked so darne
d
earnes
t
.
“Come on back and we’ll see what we can do.” I turned to lead them back to my desk.
“Oh, but weren’t you leaving? We don’t want to interrupt. We can come back.” The girl hung back.
“Yeah, we probably can’t get anything now anyway.”
I smiled and urged them to follow me to my desk. “Let’s at least talk about where you’re at and what your plans are. You might be surprised at how qualified you already are. If not, I can help you create a plan for getting a house later.”
They smiled at each other again and shared a quick, excited kiss.
I choose to be happy. I choose not to envy them.
The voices in my head finally had somethin
g
helpfu
l
to say.
Marty and Scout McAlester (she’s Marty and he’s Scout — don’t ask; I don’t know) had fairly good jobs for their age. Scout was assistant manager at a restaurant (amazingly, h
e
wa
s
twenty-one) and Marty worked as a receptionist at a dentist’s office. She was going to school at NMC at night to become a dental assistant. Their plan was for Scout to get his food service degree when Marty finished.
Though they couldn’t afford to buy a house now, they seemed eager to take any advice I was willing to give. By the time we finished, they had a plan for building credit and getting a savings account started just for the house.
“Thank you so much,” Scout said, pumping my hand with exuberance.
“This is great,” said Marty, looking at the notes they’d taken. “We’ll call you as soon as we can. Thanks so much for helping us today. This is so cool!”
They rushed out, eager and excited. I sat at my desk watching them. I could just see the glass front door if I leaned far enough to the left. They paused as they exited to give each other a hearty kiss. I chuckled. Then I took a deep breath.
That was great. Honestly. I closed my eyes and smiled, picturing them sitting here discussing whether they could open a savings account today, or if they’d have to wait until Monday.
This is happines
s
, said a Voice.
I opened my eyes and blinked. Well, yeah, I guess thi
s
i
s
happiness. I smiled again. I loved helping people like this. I’d gotten tangled up inside focusing on my own wants and needs. But now I remembered again that I enjoyed helping other people find happiness, too.
I felt a little pang that it had taken so long for me to see how far off course I’d gotten. Thinking about the number of houses I’d sold since I moved to Traverse City, I had to admit — I was pretty good at this. How many people get to enjoy their work and be good at it, too?
The rest of the weekend was relatively uneventful. I saw David in church sitting next to a very cute blond. I caught his eye from across the room later and raised my eyebrows at him. He grinned and turned away. I couldn’t tell for sure because of the distance, but I think he even blushed.
Later, soaking up some sun while I pretended to read, my cell phone rang. The call I was waiting for. I made some notes, thanked them and hung up. Then I smiled for about five minutes straight.
Monday morning, I woke up nervous. I’d slept fitfully. Tired, but awake long before the alarm went off. I wasn’t sure what to expect today. Should I go to GT’s house and try to apologize, try to get him back as a client? Should I go into the office and pretend nothing happened, pretend that we parted amicably? But then what about The New Plan Em and I had crafted?
As I waited for my toast to pop up, my cell phone rang. (I have to admit, those few days of not hearing it ring, not having another appendage — a bit of heaven.)
“This is Sydney.”
“Sydney!” GT’s voice boomed in my ear. “I hope you’re feeling better. Are you on your way here yet?”
“Oh.” I paused, trying to think through what was happening. Wasn’t I fired? Maybe not.
I looked at my watch. 9:15. Technically I should already be there. “I’m sorry, GT. To tell you the truth, I thought you fired me. Did I get that wrong?”
“No, no, that was a misunderstanding. I got it out of Matt what’s going on between you two. I told him he’s ten times the fool to let you go. But I’ll take care of that later. How soon can you be here?”
It made me nervous that GT the matchmaker had spoken to Matt. About us, I mean. An
d
wha
t
was he going to take care of later? “Uh, I can be there in half an hour. Will that work?”
“I’ll see you then.” GT hung up before I could ask any more questions. My mind was overwhelmed with a swirl of thoughts and emotions. Did he mean that he fired me but he realized he shouldn’t have? Or did he mean I misunderstood about being fired? And what exactly did he say to Matt?
I buttered my toast, grabbed a napkin, keys, and briefcase, and headed out the door. If all went well, I’d make GT a happy client today.
When I got there, I walked through the empty kitchen and back to the office. GT was on the phone. He mouthed, “I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a few minutes,” so I backed out of the office and wandered toward the kitchen.
I say wandered, but what I did was walk as slowly as humanly possible. In my mind, the kitchen was Matt’s territory. I probably needed to apologize to him, but I wasn’t sure how.
(
That’
s
become a mantra in my life recently.
)
What should I say?
I was staring at a picture in the hallway, thinking, when the subject of my ruminations barreled into me. My left shoulder smashed into the wall. Matt reached out and caught me as I started to tumble backwards.
“Umf! Excuse me! Are you okay?” His face was at least six inches away, but I could smell his shampoo or aftershave or something. The scent
—
no
t
his proximity — made my heart race. Oh, who was I kidding? O
f
cours
e
it was his proximity!
His hands still grasped my shoulders, warming my cool skin under my cotton shirt. My breathing felt shallow, too light for someone who needed to keep her wits.
I moved my left shoulder, which stung a little. Reaching up to rub it, my hand touched his. Nine-volt batteries again.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you. You all right?” Matt didn’t move away. His voice sounded funny, and he rubbed my shoulder some more. I had the strangest sense of déjà vu from when we met in Abundance Creek. Then, I didn’t want to meet a man. Now, it was looking like the man wasn’t so happy to be meeting me. Matt moved back a step and dropped his hands.
Stop it, I told my pounding heart. Like that would work.
“Hi,” I said. D’oh! I sounded all girly-girl. And I didn’t even answer his question. What a doofus. “I’m fine.”
Yeah, you sound fin
e
, said a Voice
.
He’s going to know.
Know what? I couldn’t think when he was staring at me.
That you’re completely freaking i
n
love with him!
Oh. Right.
It occurred to me that we were standing there staring at each other while I was having an internal dialogue. Or would it be a monologue since the Voices are all me?
“Hey, uh—” I stopped. I wanted to apologize, but I didn’t know how. Or when. Or if. No, that’s not true; there is no if. I really did need to apologize.
“I, um, really want to, uh, apologize.” I stumbled all over my words, my eyes falling to his shirt buttons. The guilt lay too heavy to keep my eyes up. I heard him clear his throat. I can’t do this! What should I say?!
“I’ve, uh, been—” I cleared my throat. I’ve been messed up in the head, I wanted to shout. I’ve handled everything badly, and I want to start over.
I took a deep breath. I looked into his eyes, beautiful blue, intense, lovely. Oh, I want to tell him everything. Right now.
No
!
said a Voice
.
Stick to The New Plan!
I took another calming breath, eyes on his shirt again. “I’m sorry that I’ve acted so badly around you. I hope you’ll forgive and forget.”
I chanced a look up and internally breathed a sigh of relief. No anger, no condemnation, perhaps even a touch of compassion — or something like it.
I thought maybe Matt was thinking about saying something, but before he did, GT came around the corner. He stopped and grinned when he saw us.
Oh my gosh, I’m going to die.
No cute little obituaries popped into my head this time. All I wanted was to get out. I’d made peace with Matt as best I could. Now it was time to get back to work.
I put on my professional face and turned to GT. “I may have some good news for you, GT. Would you like to talk in your office?”
“I’ll be there in a minute, darlin’.” GT stood with his arms folded across his chest, grinning like he expected a show. I wa
s
no
t
going to give him one. Not again.