Time Flies (35 page)

“It’s too late, Kurt. I think there was a point before this all happened when we both should have tried harder, but—”

“Come on, Mel, it’s water under the bridge. Let me pick you up for lunch. Where are you staying anyway?”

“Where I’m staying is no longer your business,” I said. And then I hung up.

I was still standing on the balcony, watching the seagulls swoop and soar so effortlessly it could almost bring tears to your eyes, when B.J. came back with coffee and breakfast sandwiches.

“Bless you,” I said as I reached for my coffee.

“Don’t bless me yet. I just gave Finn Miller your number. He wants to take you to lunch.”

CHAPTER 39

Finn Miller and I were gazing at each other across a waterfront picnic table topped with iced coffee and red-and-white-checked cardboard platters of fish-and-chips. Seagulls screeched overhead, and sailboats tacked and jibed in the distance.

B.J. and I had spent the morning making a tour of galleries and gift shops. We’d hit potential pay dirt at one, a funky little store right near the main fishing docks. The owner took the box spring ladies on consignment, and even said she’d do her best to keep them together.

“Good french fries,” I said.

Finn nodded and popped another Advil. His golf shirt collar was sticking up on one side. He had little marks under the thinning hair on his head that looked like they’d been made by a
sewing machine.
Hair Plugs in Sunlight
popped into my head, as if he were a sculpture.

I watched him wash the Advil down with a loud gulp of iced coffee.

He cleared his throat. “So then I told him if you’re going to jerk me around like that, forget about it. You can take your friggin’ promotion and put it where the sun don’t shine.”

I reached for another french fry. “Wow, just like that, huh.”

“You bet your sweet bippy.”

“Aww. I forgot about that expression.
Laugh-In
, right? Not that we’re old enough to remember that show.”

He shrugged.

“I know it’s a long time ago,” I said, “but I’m sorry I hurt you back in high school. You were really nice to me and you didn’t deserve it.”

“Yeah, you were a total bitch. Those Leon Russell tickets weren’t cheap, you know. Hey, so what was it you do again? Didn’t I read something about Dubai? How’s the weather over there?”

I smiled. “I’ve never actually been to Dubai. I think B.J. may have embellished my profile. I’m a metal sculptor.”

“Huh. Where do you get the metal?”

“Well,” I said, “sometimes I buy it, but as often as I can I try to work with metal that I find. Junkyards and metal yards and even yard sales. I guess the buzzword is
upcycle
. You know, recycle into something more valuable.”

“Good money in that?”

“Well, it has its moments, but I’d have to say the rewards are more creative than monetary.”

He leaned forward over the table. “Copper.”

I waited for the rest of the sentence to arrive.

Finn chewed a piece of fried fish and grinned at the same time, not the sexiest of combinations.

“Excuse me?” I finally said.

He washed down his fish and swallowed. “Copper. It’s gone through the roof. So this is what you do: You hire a bunch of high school kids for cheap and get them to pick through the junkyards for the copper. Or maybe even get your hands on some free college interns.”

He shook the bottle of Advil and grinned.

“And?” I finally said, mostly to get him to stop shaking the Advil.

He looked over his shoulder. Apparently satisfied that there were no spies around, he leaned forward again.

“And then you sell it. You’ll make a bundle. And feel free to drop my ten percent in the mail.”

My cell phone rang and I grabbed for it like a life preserver.

“Good news or bad news?” B.J. said.

“Good would be nice,” I said. I aimed a fake smile at Finn, but he was busy spearing some more fish.

“I just grabbed Maria’s subs with a bunch of classmates who wouldn’t give us the time of day in high school, and now we’re on our way to play miniature golf. The good news is I left you the car keys in case you want to join us. Unless Finn turns into an overnight.’ ”

“Not a snowball’s chance in hell,” I said. “But thanks for the first part.”

“Okay, and Kurt called Tom at home to find out where we were staying, and I’d just talked to Tom and happened to mention
where you were meeting your old friend Finn and I know, I know, it’s none of his business but he is my husband and we used to go to that fish-and-chips place together all the time when we were dating. And anyway, long story short—”

“Thanks for the heads-up.” I clicked the
OFF
button, tucked my phone back in my purse, and slung it over my shoulder.

I stood up as Kurt wove his way toward us through the picnic tables.

“Look who’s here,” I said. “What a nice surprise.”

Kurt stopped and looked over his shoulder.

I smiled at him encouragingly.

“Sit, sit,” I said when he got to the table. “Listen, why don’t you boys catch up while I hit the little girls’ room to powder my nose.”

Kurt gave me a funny look, as if he thought he might remember that I didn’t really talk like this, but couldn’t be sure.

I walked back into the restaurant and made a quick stop in the ladies’ room. Like everything else lately, the graffiti-covered stall brought me back to high school.
WHO TOOK THE CHARMIN? I’M TOO SEXY FOR THIS PLACE. K.L
. &
B.H. FOREVER. FOR A GOOD TIME, CALL 1-800-CRISSY. WIPE FRONT TO BACK. HERE I SIT, BROKENHEARTED
.

Here I sat, brokenhearted, too.

Wait. Actually, I was kind of relieved.

I’d foolishly pinned my hopes on a guy I had nothing in common with but high school math class a gazillion years ago. It would have been a great story if it had worked out, but the truth was I didn’t even like math. And I didn’t like Finn Miller any more the second time around.

I left the graffiti behind and gazed at myself in the mirror as I washed my hands. Under the harsh fluorescent lights, even with makeup I looked every bit my age. My eyes had crinkles around them and my face was heading south, along with the rest of me.

But I was too good for Kurt and I was too good for Finn Miller. B.J. was right—I’d been the only one who still had to believe it.

I believed it.

I found our waitress. “Excuse me,” I said, “but once I’m out of sight, would you mind telling those two guys over there that I got a better offer? On second thought, that’s kind of mean—maybe you should just say that something came up.”

She tilted her head to look, then grinned. “Are you telling me they’re both available?”

I grinned back, as if we’d gone to high school together. “They’re all yours, honey—take your pick. Oh, wait, neither of them lives around here.”

She rolled her eyes. “Tourists.”

As soon as I got back to the hotel room I called Veronica.

“Hey,” she said. “How was the reunion?”

“It totally sucked. Well, actually, ask me again in a few months. How’s Fawn?”

“She’s doing okay. Thanks for asking, and thanks again for last night. It meant a lot.”

I closed my eyes. “Listen, I’m sorry I’ve been a crappy friend all these years.”

“Life gets busy.”

“Yeah, but what would it have taken? I never even called you back the last time you called.”

“Don’t worry about it, Melanie. I get it.”

“Where in the South is Mark working?”

“Birmingham.”

“Seriously? That’s only about two and a half hours from my house. Well, with Atlanta traffic, you never know, but still. Anyway, maybe you and Fawn could come stay with me for a while. Mark is welcome, too—I have plenty of room. I was just thinking it might be good for you to have a change of pace, and for Fawn to have something to look forward to.”

“Are you sure? As you may have noticed, Fawn can be a little bit of a handful.”

“Of course I’m sure. I was thinking I could help her make some sculptures. Nothing dangerous—I’m thinking soda cans and a glue gun. Remember that awesome table I made with Tab cans junior year?”

“Like it was yesterday. Glass top with an empty space in the middle to hide things? I tried to copy you and make one, too, but it collapsed midway.”

“I’ll let you in on all my soda can sculpture secrets. And I think I might still have one of Trevor and Troy’s old Slip’n Slides, if it hasn’t sprung a leak yet. Maybe we could make a soda can obstacle course for Fawn to slide through.”

“She’d love that.”

“And I’d love to show you guys Atlanta. I actually kind of miss being there.”

After Veronica and I hung up, I called Marion right away, before I could chicken out.

Four rings later she finally answered.

“Hello,” she said, as if Caller ID had never been invented and she had absolutely no idea who was calling.

“Hi,” I said. “It’s Melanie. Can I come over and talk to you for a few minutes?”

“Why? It’s not like I won’t see you in another ten years.”

“Please,” I said.

CHAPTER 40

Marion and I sat across the coffee table from each other in her stupid, stuffy formal living room, our hands folded in our laps. She didn’t even offer me a glass of water.

I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry that I flaked,” I said, the expression coming back to me across the years. “I’m sorry I bailed on you. I should have helped you more with Mom and Dad. I should have been a better sister. I should have been there for all of you. I put Kurt before everything and now I see that I screwed up.”

Marion looked at the empty space over my shoulder and shrugged.

“I can’t undo what I did,” I said.

“Or didn’t do,” she said.

“Or didn’t do. I understand that you might not forgive me
and that’s your choice, but I apologize from the bottom of my heart.”

She made eye contact for the first time. “That’s it?”

I shrugged. “Well, unless you want to do a few shots of tequila.”

Her eyes teared up. “You think you can just apologize and it’ll all go away like it never happened?”

I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t take the bait. “I have no expectations. I just want you to know I’m sorry.”

We sat there, looking at each other.

“Was Mom afraid of driving on the highway when we were little?” I finally asked.

Marion shook her head. “Don’t you remember? She was afraid of everything. Highways, spiders, the basement. Sometimes it wouldn’t be that bad, but I remember once she barely left her room for almost a month. Dad and I had to do everything.”

“Wow. I mean, I kind of remember it, but I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

Marion leaned forward. “Why? Are you having symptoms?”

I shrugged. “They say the biggest thing to watch out for is the pattern of avoidance. Funny, kind of the story of my life.”

Marion didn’t say anything.

“How about you?” I finally said.

“Nothing. Not a thing.” She brushed her hands together and stood up. “Well, Jonathan and I have dinner plans tonight, so I need to jump in the shower.”

I stood up, too. “Well, thanks for letting me come over. And give my love to Jonathan and the girls.”