“I thought you were grounded,” he said, as I got out of my car and walked over to where he was standing in front of the truck. I couldn’t believe how happy I was to see him.
“I am,” I said. “I’m at yoga.”
He looked at me, raising his eyebrows, and I felt myself smile, suddenly feeling reassured. Of course I wouldn’t go back to Jason. Of course I wasn’t the same girl again. It had just taken seeing Wes to remind me.
“Okay, so I’m not at yoga,” I said. I shook my head. “God, this night has just been . . . I don’t know. Weird. I just needed to get out. Too much to think about.”
He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “I know the feeling.”
“So what are you doing?” I asked. “Working?”
“Um,” he said, glancing at the truck, “not really. I took the night off. I have a bunch of stuff I have to get done.”
I looked at my watch, then said, “I’m have another hour before I’m due home. You want company?”
“Um,” he said again. I noticed this, for some reason. In fact, as I stood there, I noticed that he was jumpy, nervous even. “Better not. I’ve got to meet with this client at seven-thirty. You’d be late.”
“Oh.” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, and neither of us said anything for a minute, a silence more awkward than any I’d ever felt between us. Something’s going on, I thought, and immediately I flashed back to that night at the hospital, when I’d cried. Maybe it had been too much, and had freaked him out. We’d only talked on the phone since then, hadn’t seen each other. For all I knew, this change had happened ages ago, and I was only just catching up with it now.
“It’s just,” he said, as I turned my head, watching a car pass by, “just this thing I have to do. You wouldn’t want to come.”
I felt my body reacting, my posture straightening, as I shifted into the defensive mode I knew so well. “Yeah, I should go anyway,” I said.
“Well, hang out for a second,” he said. “What’s been going on?”
“Not much.” I looked at my watch. “God, I’m gonna go. It’s stupid for me to even be risking this, with everything that’s happened. And I have this email from Jason to answer.”
“Jason?” He looked surprised. “Really.”
I nodded, flipping my car keys in my hand. “I don’t know, he’s having some problems, we’re in touch. He wants to get back together, I think.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I don’t know,” I said, even though I knew it wasn’t. “Maybe.”
He was looking at me now: I had his full attention. Which was why I turned my back and started walking to my car.
“Macy,” he said, “hold on a second.”
“I really have to go,” I told him. “I’ll see you around.”
“Wait.” I was still walking, but I could hear him coming up behind me, knew he’d put his hand on my shoulder even before he did. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I said, and started walking again. “I’m fine.” Even when I got to my car and opened the door, he hadn’t moved, stayed there as I drove away. I would have thought this would make me feel better, for once getting to be the one to leave and not the one left behind. But it didn’t. Not at all.
I was almost all the way home when I turned around.
But he was gone. I sat at the light for a second, the big time and temperature sign at Willow Bank blinking above me: 7:24, 78 degrees. I kept looking from the red stoplight to the numbers, then back again, and all of a sudden I knew where to go.
Call it a gut feeling, but all the way to the World of Waffles I was sure that somehow, I could fix this. Maybe I’d just been too sensitive. He had a lot on his mind. It probably had nothing to do with me. But he had been acting so weird, checking his watch. That I knew I hadn’t imagined. But regardless, he needed to know why I’d been so cold to him, how important he was to me. Maybe that would freak him out, too. But it was the Truth. And we’d always held to that.
As soon as I saw his truck parked in the lot, I felt myself relax. I can do this, I thought, as I pulled in two spaces down and cut my engine, then pushed my door open. The air was full of that sweet, doughy smell, and as I started toward the front door, I reminded myself that this, too, was proof that I had changed. Once, I would have just let Wes go. But I was different now.
I was different all the way across the parking lot, to the edge of the curb, almost to the door. But then I saw him, sitting in the same booth against the window. He wasn’t alone.
Gotcha, I thought, and it was weird that it felt exactly the same way, a sudden shock, a jump of the heart, like your entire system shuts down, and then, as you stand there gasping, somehow reboots. Somehow.
I hadn’t heard a lot about Becky, but I recognized her with just one look. Like Wes had said, she was skinny, angular, with a short haircut, the ends of which barely touched her collar-bone. She had on a thin black tank top, a rosary necklace, and dark red lipstick, which had already stained the rim of the coffee mug she was holding between her hands. Wes was sitting opposite her, talking, and she was looking at him intently, her gaze steady, as if what he was saying was the most important thing in the world. And probably it was. Maybe he was telling her his deepest secrets. Or asking her the question I’d been waiting for. I’d never know.
I got back in my car, starting the engine, then drove off. It wasn’t until I pulled onto the highway that it all really sunk in, how temporary our friendship had been. We’d been on our breaks, after all, but it wasn’t our relationships that were on pause: it was us. Now we were both in motion again, moving ahead. So what if there were questions left unanswered. Life went on. We knew that better than anyone.