Jilted Jock - Rebecca Jenshak Page 0,37
who I can teach to play soccer and show up the boys.”
“That’s quite a list,” I said finally.
He nodded and resumed eating, clearly waiting for me to go.
“I want to travel. I’d love to see Africa, go back to Australia, take an Alaskan cruise. I’d like to camp… Chance and I used to go with our dad all the time. We’d go out for a weekend. Sleep on lumpy sleeping bags and live off hot dogs and s’mores that we cooked over the fire. Now I’m not even sure I could start a fire or pitch a tent it’s been so long.”
He smirked at that.
“I want to do so many things, but there never seems to be enough time.” I looked down at my lap. “Or courage, I guess. It’s easier to watch Bear Grylls and sit on the sofa. When I first got out of rehab, they said to take things slow. The smallest things can trigger you and I was so worried about relapsing that I created this shell of a life. I guess I didn’t realize it until recently.” And then because I didn’t want him to think me totally pathetic, I added, “Moving to New York will be good for me, I think. Every day a new adventure.”
I’d tried to force some peppy optimism into it, but Finn didn’t look convinced. I didn’t feel it either. I was nervous about living in a big city where I’d only know one person. I had an online support group and a sponsor that I knew I could count on regardless of where I lived, but that was different.
Being an addict made making new friends hard. When I did find friends, they often left me out of social activities that revolved around alcohol, which let’s face it, most did. I understood. People didn’t know what to do or not to do. For as common as addiction was, most people had never dealt with someone in recovery. They were clueless and tended toward being overly cautious and afraid of making a misstep. Or the opposite and a total asshole. Thankfully those were few and far between.
“Is the boyfriend into those things. Travel? Camping?”
“Oh, uh.”
“You don’t know?” Finn quirked an amused brow.
“I guess it hasn’t come up.”
“Well, in all the time you’ve been dating him...”
“Two and a half years,” I supplied.
“So, in that time has he taken you anywhere?”
“We fly back and forth to see one another.”
“That doesn’t count. What about camping?”
“We spent a weekend in a B&B in upstate New York.”
“Unless it was a rustic cabin where you had to help kill your food and cooked it over campfire, I don’t think that counts. Possibly not even then.”
The cute little cottage had been serene and beautiful, but rustic it was not. I snorted as I thought about Richard killing anything. He could probably start a fire though. Maybe. We’d buy one of those fire starter things, it’d be fine.
“Seriously, though, you’re moving across the country to be with the guy, you must have talked about the future or at least thought about what that looks like. Do you want the same things?”
“When did you turn into Dr. Phil?”
“Since my fiancée didn’t show up to our wedding.”
I winced.
“I’m not an expert and probably the last person who should give relationship advice. I guess it’s just easier to poke holes in other people’s relationships than see them in your own.”
Did that mean he saw holes in my relationship with Richard? I was too scared of the answer to ask.
After dinner I thanked Finn for the food and company and feigned a headache and went to my room. I called Richard even though I knew he was probably already in bed.
“Hello?” he answered, his gruff voice sounded more asleep than awake.
“Hi. I’m sorry for waking you.”
“It’s okay. What time is it?”
“Just after eight my time.”
“How was your day?”
“Good. Yours?”
“Long, we got some of the executive offices finished. I’m excited for you to see it. What time does your flight get in on Friday?”
“Just after seven in the morning. I’m on the red eye.”
“Great. We can meet up for lunch afterward. Your interview is three blocks away just past that pizza place we ate at the last time you were here.”
“Have you ever gone camping?”
He was slow to respond, maybe because he was tired or maybe he was thrown by the random topic change.
“Yeah. My buddies and I used to camp over July Fourth every summer.”
“Really?” I smiled.
“Been, gosh, five or six years since