Lucy Wagner Gets In Shape (A Romantic Comedy) (16 page)
Read Lucy Wagner Gets In Shape (A Romantic Comedy) Online
Authors: Claire Matthews
“So, what’s your big plan once the new owners close on this condo?” Will’s rolling his noodles methodically around with a fork, avoiding my gaze. Does he want to talk about the future? Like, the
air quotes
future?
“Oh, I’ll crash with my Dad for a while until I figure out my next step. Jen wants me to move in with her, but I don’t think I can handle the drama. Or the
Jerseyliscious
.” I take a fortifying breath—I can’t put this off any longer. “As a matter of fact, I’ve got some news.”
“Yeah?” He looks at me expectantly. Meep.
“Well, do you remember my disastrous interview at LSU?” Now I’m the one staring intently at my noodles.
“Yes, although I’m sure it wasn’t as disastrous as you make it out to be.”
“Obviously not, because they offered me the position.” Will’s silent for a very long moment, as if he’s trying to absorb my words.
“Really?”
“Yes,
really.
You don’t have to sound quite so shocked,. I’ll get a complex.” I punch his shoulder good-naturedly, to let him know I’m kidding.
“No, no…that’s not what I meant.” His fork drops with a clang against his plate, and he grabs my hand quickly. “Luce, that’s great. It’s just…God, it’s a wonderful opportunity.” I look longingly at our entwined hands. “God,” he says again, shaking his head.
“Yeah…God.”
“They want you to start this fall?”
“Yes.”
“God.”
“Yeah, you already said that.” I pull my hand back in my lap.
“I’m sorry.” I know he doesn’t want to ruin my good news. But I don’t seem to have a problem with it.
“I don’t want to go,” I blurt out suddenly. “I don’t want to leave you. I know that this is the culmination of everything I’ve been working for, but I just don’t care. Does that make me the biggest loser in the world?”
“Possibly.”
“Shut up.”
“Well, you can’t turn it down because of me. You’d end up resenting me—I won’t let you blow off an opportunity like this.” His green eyes are focused on mine, and I know he means it, which makes my heart start to flutter with panic.
“So you don’t want us to be together?” Wow, how pathetic do I sound?
“Lucy, of course I do. We’ll just have to figure something out.”
“What--a Facebook relationship in YoVille? I can’t just see you for a few hours every other Saturday.”
“So, I’ll move to Baton Rouge with you.”
“Nope…nope, nope, nope,” I stand quickly, to distance myself from his bad ideas. “I won’t let you throw away all of your hard work here. You’re finally tenured, you can’t leave now.”
“Sure I can, it gives me some leverage with other schools.” He follows me into the kitchen, where I busy myself rinsing dishes.
“But LSU isn’t right for you. They don’t need a legislative specialist.”
“But New Orleans is just an hour away. They’ve got Tulane, and Loyola, and UNO, and Xavier…” He’s ticking schools off on his fingers, until he runs out of fingers.
“But those are tiny, private schools, with zero in terms of research budgets. How many times have I heard you tell grad students to stay away from places like that?”
“What,
now
you listen to me? What the hell do I know?”
“You know. You know that some tiny Catholic school on the bayou is not where you want to be.”
“So now you’re an expert on what I want?” He grabs the plate out of my hand and turns off the water in the kitchen sink.
“Umm, yeah? I’m your best friend. I know what you want.” My voice is getting that annoying high pitch that I hate.
“Really? Because I’ve wanted
you
for years, and you never seemed to notice.” The plate gets thrown in the sink.
“So what are you accusing me of here? Being clueless, or being selfish?”
“Both…Neither…I don’t know.” He runs his hands roughly through his hair, which sticks up in all kinds of crazy directions when he’s finished. “I don’t want to fight.”
“Well I don’t want to, either.” Cue sulking Lucy, which is so not a good look for me. We stand off in the kitchen, both inspecting our bare feet, me feeling increasingly ridiculous in my half-dressed state. I’m pretty sure Will would rather be fully clothed for this conversation, as well.
“Can we go back to bed and pretend none of this is happening?” I whine. Denial is one of my favorite pastimes. Plus, I just want to get him back in bed, because his bare chest is giving me naughty thoughts.
“Just for tonight,” he says slowly, pulling me into a hug. “Tomorrow, we have a serious, mature discussion.”
“Okay,” I murmur into his chest.
“An open-minded discussion. With no screwing around or Gilmore Girls analogies. Got it?”
”Yep.”
“Promise?”
Jeez. “Yep.”
***
I wake up the next morning to a persistent knock at the front door. My alarm clock tells me it’s 7:30 am. Will just grunts, flips onto his stomach, and pulls the covers over his head. I guess this one’s on me, then.
“What?” I squeak, yanking the door open roughly. Of course it’s Jenny.
“I called you six times last night. Then I texted you for another hour. What the hell?”
“Christ, stalk much, Crazy?” I’m tugging on my robe, but I can’t seem to get it closed correctly in my semi-awake state.
“I won’t be ignored, Lucy.” She gives me her best Glenn-Close-in-Fatal-Attraction stare down.
“Whatever. I was busy.”
“With what? And who gave you permission to get a life, anyway?” She walks past me, and straight into Will, who has emerged from bed (with boxers on, thank God) to make a beeline for the bathroom.
“Fisher! What an incredibly awkward surprise,” Jen chirps loudly. She loves waking people up.
“Who flipped your psycho switch this morning?” He growls, tugging her ponytail like an annoying little brother. Not waiting for an answer, he slides past and slams the bathroom door.
“So I’m thinking he’s not a morning person?”
“Apparently not,” I answer, shrugging my shoulders and heading for the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. It’s way too early for Jenny. “Why are you here at this insane hour?”
“I was worried about you. It’s not like you to miss six calls and a dozen frantic texts.”
“Sorry. I think I left my phone in the car.” I’m not really sorry. And my phone is turned off in my purse. “Do you want some coffee?”
“Duh.” She drops her purse on the table and pulls herself up to sit on the kitchen counter. “So, am I interrupting something hot and heavy with you and your gentleman caller?”
“Not at this exact moment, but I’m hoping you might be interrupting something later.”
“Eww.”
“Hey, you asked.” She doesn’t have to sound so disgusted. We pour our coffee and doctor it with all kinds of flavored creams and sugars, turning when Will emerges from the bathroom, freshly showered and fully dressed. Damn.
“Who wants breakfast? My treat.” His happy Will grin is back in place. It’s clear this is a man who needs his morning shower.
We send Will off to pick up breakfast tacos, and settle down on the couch with fresh cups of coffee and some morning yak. “Do you want The View or Kelly Ripa?”
“You know I can’t do The View,” Jen sneers. “It drives me to violence.”
“Kelly it is.” We watch in companionable silence until the first commercial for Swiffer wipes comes on.
“So, did you tell him about LSU?”
I rest my coffee between my knees and rub my eyes. “Yes,” I murmur.
“How’d it go?”
“We kind of got into a fight, then we decided to just ignore the whole thing. That’s what healthy couples do, right?”
“Totally.”
“Because, you know, we’ll work something out,” I hedge, rubbing my fingertip around the edge of my coffee cup.
“Of course you will.”
“Are you humoring me?”
“Of course I am.” We grin at each other.
“What would you do if you were me?” I ask finally.
“Pluck my eyebrows. Get my hair highlighted. Exfoliate.”
“God, you’re a bitch.”
“Yeah. I know.”
Chapter Seventeen
After four days of pretending that nothing is happening, I wake up on Friday morning with an impending sense of doom. Today is the day that I’m supposed to call Dr. Richards at LSU with my answer, but I’m no closer to a decision than I was on the day of the race. The serious, mature talk that Will and I had committed to never actually happens, and Will spends the week calling all of his contacts at Tulane and Xavier, the schools with the best political science departments in New Orleans. When I remind him that I haven’t made my decision yet, he just kisses the top of my head and says “You’re going to take that job”. Seriously, it’s getting irritating.
I decide to teach my class before I call Dr. Richards. After giving a ninety-minute lecture on market protectionism that is as scintillating as a double root canal, I shuffle back down the hall despondently.
I’m going to take the job. I have to take the job. I just wish I didn’t feel like utter shit about it.
When I get to my office, Jen is already situated behind my desk, eating Greek yogurt from the mini-fridge. Instead of pissing me off, it just makes me sad—who’s going to break into my office and steal my food in Baton Rouge?
“Hey, Soul Sista,” she says around the spoon in her mouth.
“Hey. I don’t mean to be rude, but would you please move your happy ass away from my desk? I’ve got a call to make.” My voice shakes a little, and Jen looks appropriately chagrined.
“So, what’s the big decision?” She moves and sits on the back of my credenza.
“I don’t know. I mean, I do know, but I don’t really want it to be true. Can I just sit here and whine to you for a few minutes?”
“Sure, if I can have another yogurt. I’m starving.”
“Help yourself. I can’t stand the thought of food right now.” Seriously, the smell of the yogurt cup in Jen’s hand is making me nauseous.
“Oh, Drama Mama…why must you make everything so complicated?”
“You’re going to insult me now, aren’t you?” I ask weakly.
“No, I’m just going to ask you a few gentle questions.” She crosses her legs and tosses her empty yogurt cup in the trashcan.
“You’re nothing if not gentle.”
“Why are you taking this job?” She blurts at me.
“Because I have worked towards this goal for the past seven years, and I can’t turn down this opportunity?”
“Why not?”
“Because I
can’t
! What if I don’t get another offer?”
“Yeah, what if you don’t get another offer? What would you do?”
I exhale slowly and really think about it for a moment. “Well, I guess I would start applying for jobs around here. At some of the private colleges in town, and maybe a community college or two.”
“Would that upset you?” She asked pointedly.
“I guess. I mean, I’d probably feel like a failure. I’ve been shooting for the big time, Tier One schools.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, ‘why’? It’s just what I need to do.” She’s being deliberately obtuse, and it’s starting to tick me off.
“What—you need to be the best?”
“No, not
the
best,” I huff. “I just need to be
my
best.”
“This isn’t a Gatorade commercial, Luce. Why can’t you be your best at a smaller college here in Houston, surrounded by your friends and your family and the love of your frickin’ life?”
“Because that’s not what I’ve been aiming towards. My work would be wasted at a teaching college, I need to be at a research institution.”
“God, when did you become such a fucking snob?” Okay, she’s not kidding now--she looks really pissed.
“What the hell is with you? This is what I’ve been talking about for years—you never had a problem with it before!”
“Because you never had anything to lose before!”
“Stop bossing me!” Whoa--I sound like I’m in kindergarten.
“I will when you stop acting like a dumb bitch!”
I’m speechless for a moment, as Jen stomps across the room to close my office door. Why am I being attacked here?
“I’m not going to lose anything, Jen,” I try to tone my voice down as she turns back to face me, eyes flashing with irritation. “Will’s coming with me. He wants to look for jobs in New Orleans.”
“And you’re going to let him.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“He won’t even discuss it with me! In his mind, it’s a done deal.” Not that I’ve been chomping at the bit to discuss it, either, but Jen doesn’t have to know that.