and he is a man. A firefighting man. It’s gotta be fantastic? Is it fantastic?”
I have to laugh at her, she’s incorrigible. But I nod. “I can confirm that it’s fantastic.”
She fans her face. “Oh, girl, tell me more.”
“No, tell us about the relationship.” Presley glares at the horn-dog at the table.
“Well … I don’t even know that I can call it that? We haven’t had that talk yet although I know where I want it to go. I don’t know, it’s just been so long and I know there is still so much to talk about between us and I can’t … my head is just a mess.”
“Do you still love him?” Presley asks.
“Of course, I do. That’s never been the problem. The issue is that for ten years, he’s ignored me. He left me while I was still in the hospital and has never told me why. Even now, he doesn’t want to talk about it, and he barely wants me telling people. And before you ask, no, Bowen hasn’t explicitly said not to tell anyone. But we only spend time with each other in the privacy of our own homes. In the months we’ve been taking it slow, he hasn’t asked me out to dinner once, or dropped by the library unannounced, or gone to the movies together … or anything. I feel like a booty call or a secret mistress.”
“And that’s why you’re telling us now. Because you know that it can’t continue like this.” Penelope nods, knowing me better than I know myself. “You’ve waited too long to get him back, so you want it to last. But, Lil … not like this. If he is going to pull some fuckboy bullshit with you, you have to end it.”
She’s harsh, but she’s right.
“All right, hold on. Before we go Carrie Underwood on his tires, can we make some sane suggestions?” Presley smirks at Penelope and then turns to me. “Talk to him about it. Tell him how you’re feeling.”
“I already have. I’ve tried …”
“But if you’re not happy with how he’s responding, then don’t put up with it. You’ve waited this long for Bowen to come around, and if it’s not in the right way, you still have nothing to lose. That might be mean, but you deserve answers. And if he isn’t willing to give them, then you can survive it. You’ve gone through it once and come out stronger. You’re a different woman than the girl who lost him back then. Show him that.”
They’re both right. Even if we’ve been getting to know each other again, even if every moment of passion and fleeting happiness is worth it right now, eventually the doubts will crowd my thoughts. I won’t be able to move past our history if Bowen doesn’t give me the real reason he wasn’t there after the accident. And a relationship can’t be built on lies. It shouldn’t be, and that’s what we’re doing right now. Putting a Band-Aid over the bullet hole, a temporary hold on a wound that is only growing bigger each time we ignore it.
“Why do these girls’ nights always turn into gossiping about boys?” I joke, wanting to change the subject.
They’ve given me more to think about than I can process right now, and I want to chew it over when I’m alone.
“Because what else do we have to talk about? The fact that Mrs. Murtins, the high school gym teacher, is definitely banging the new math teacher who just moved here from Lancaster?”
“Penelope, I swear, you’re the locomotive of the Fawn Hill Rumor Train.” Presley giggles. “But, is it really true?”
“Without a doubt, it is. Or so I heard.”
“The new math teacher is really nice. He came in to check out some books on World War II for personal reading,” I inform them, taking a long sip of my wine now that my relationship discussion is off the table.
“Hot, too. See? Another potential suitor for you to match me up with.” Penelope hits Presley in the arm.
“I’ll get right on that.” She rolls her eyes.
“So, how was the honeymoon?” I ask. “Any babies made?”
Presley coughs on a salted cashew. “Absolutely not. I am so not ready for that. Not with a new business, a new husband, and trying to find a new house.”
Her and Keaton’s house search has been dismal. Neither can agree on what they want, only that they don’t want to stay in Keaton’s bachelor pad.
“Yeah, please take your time. You have all