Rumor Mill, page 8
I didn’t have Corey’s number, and though I attempted a web search, I couldn’t narrow the field down enough to be confident that I had his contact information. I did know where the man lived, however.
After work, I stopped by the drug store to pick up two toys for the little girls and a bottle of wine for Corey’s wife. It wasn’t exactly a bribe, but hopefully the fact that I was bringing gifts would buy me some good will.
I almost expected to find Teddy’s car in the driveway, but she wasn’t there. I could only guess that she had gone back to her apartment. It was a shame. Maybe on familiar ground she would open up again, and we could put the nastiness behind us. But it wasn’t to be. I still had a lot of work ahead of me and no idea how to accomplish it.
My previous relationships hadn’t prepared me for this eventuality. Not only were my former girlfriends more well-off financially than Teddy was, but none of them meant as much to me. I could have easily walked away from any of them, not giving a second thought to whether or not they texted me. In fact, that was exactly how it happened a few times. I couldn’t remember the last time I spoke with Cindy or Brittney. I didn’t want Teddy’s story to be cut short that way. There was so much more I wanted to do with her, up to and including marriage.
That thought hit a discordant note in my mind. It’s funny how I had been thinking about putting our relationship on the fast track until just recently. Teddy seemed perfect, and we were destined for each other. But if she couldn’t turn toward me in her hour of need, how could we possibly make something work long-term?
I knocked on the door, my arms full of presents. Sunny answered, looking confused. She broke into a smile at the sight of me, which warmed my heart. At least someone was happy to see me.
“Brad!” Sunny said, accepting the wine. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“I was wondering if I could talk to Corey,” I said, deciding not to pretend it was a social call.
“Brad!” One of the little girls threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I handed over one of the toys, and she grabbed it with a child’s lustful honesty. “What is this?”
“It’s a doll,” I said.
“It’s a Buzz Grrl!” the child announced, jumping up and down.
“Which one?” Sunny asked, gesturing for me to come inside.
“Henna Hailey,” the child responded, tearing into the packaging.
“Smart choice,” Sunny said with a wink.
I didn’t have the heart to tell either of them that it was an off-the-shelf purchase at the drug store that took me all of six seconds. The other daughter came skipping up to see what all the fuss was about. I gave her the second gift, and she gave me a hug in exchange.
“Corey’s in the woodshed,” Sunny said.
I walked back outside and down the front walk to cross the driveway. The woodshed was past Teddy’s old apartment, right in front of the fire pit. There were two barn doors that were thrown open, even though it was mid-November. The California winter just never got cold enough to make working outside uncomfortable.
Corey was working on his specialized rocking chairs. They had an innovative base, and we had bantered about the possibility of going into business together. I was only semiserious since he was doing all the work himself and nowhere near scaling. If I was going to be interested as an investor, he would have to hire at least five more artists to make the project worthwhile. But I held back that little piece of information. A week ago, I would have been happy to write him a check just because he was Teddy’s brother.
“Hey Brad,” Corey said, looking up from his task.
“Hi,” I responded, checking out the latest additions to his growing collection of chairs.
“Did you come to talk shop?” Corey asked, setting down his tools.
“No, but it looks like you’ve been busy,” I replied.
“Yeah, I’m getting it down to a science,” he said, walking to a fridge that was set up against the far wall. “Do you want a beer?”
“Sure,” I agreed. Maybe a little alcohol would make the conversation easier.
I accepted the bottle from him and twisted the cap off. It was one of the cheaper kinds, but I wasn’t going to disrespect him by turning up my nose at it. Corey led the way out of the workshop and over to the fireplace. He didn’t light any of the logs but simply waited for me to take a seat opposite him.
I held the bottle in both hands, not sure where to begin. “I’m having some trouble with Teddy.”
“Ah,” Corey answered, tipping back his drink. “What kind of trouble?”
“I don’t know how much she’s told you...” I hesitated, not wanting to overstep my boundaries. If Teddy hadn’t filled Corey in on the lawsuit, then I didn’t want to be the one to break the news.
“About what?” Corey asked.
“Has she told you about my legal trouble?” I decided the safest way to feel this out was to talk about my own lawsuit first.
“Yeah, with Nikki?” Corey said.
“Right,” I agreed. “And has she told you about her own?”
“Yeah,” Corey answered. “She said the chick is suing her for some ridiculous amount of money.”
“Right,” I said. After realizing that he was read into the situation, I felt able to speak candidly. “She’s not dealing with it well.”
“Who would?” Corey asked.
“I have a little bit more experience than her,” I admitted.
“In what?”
“In being sued.”
“You’ve been sued before?” Corey asked bluntly.
I shrugged. “I don’t think you’ll find anyone with a substantial amount of money who hasn’t been privy to at least a few lawsuits.”
“Why is that?” Corey asked, setting his beer down on the ground.
“People see money, and they want it,” I explained. “It doesn’t take long for them to come up with reasons why you should give it to them.”
“Is that what Nikki’s doing?”
“Exactly,” I said. “And she’s barking up the wrong tree. But Teddy doesn’t see it that way. All she’s focused on is the number that Nikki is asking for. It’s highly unlikely that the judge will award that much, if anything.”
“But Teddy doesn’t know that.” Corey followed the train of thought to its logical conclusion.
“She’s freaking out,” I said unhappily. “I can’t calm her down. She won’t even talk to me.”
“Maybe you need to give her some space,” Corey mused.
“Yeah, but how much space?” I asked. “I want to be there for her. She doesn’t have to go through this alone.”
“Teddy can get stuck sometimes,” Corey pointed out. “I remember once she had this science project to do, and she couldn’t get it quite right. She spent weeks staying up late every night working on it, and there was nothing Mom or Dad could do to help.”
I heard what he was saying, but it didn’t seem to matter. Knowing that Teddy had a history of obsessing about little details was illuminating, but it didn’t bring me any closer to a solution.
“I thought we were getting somewhere,” I began, not sure where I was going. “The first time I said I love you, she said it right back.”
Corey nodded, picking up his beer again.
I took his silence as license to continue. “I feel like I’m losing her. Like we’ve hit this dead end and there’s nowhere to go.”
“She’ll come around,” Corey promised.
“What if she doesn’t?” I argued. “You didn’t see her last night. She practically ran out on me. She wouldn’t let me drive her home and insisted on taking a rideshare.”
“What did you say?” Corey demanded, his big brother instincts flaring.
“Nothing.” I tried to remember the entire scene. “I made her some soup. I told her exactly what I told you, that the judge hadn’t ruled yet and that it wasn’t worth getting that upset over.”
Corey sighed. “Listen, Teddy has her own way of doing things. She’s not going to calm down. You just have to let her deal with it and be there when she needs you.”
“What if that isn’t enough?” I asked.
He shook his head. “She’ll just keep putting one foot in front of the other until the ship rights itself.”
“But what if it doesn’t?” I insisted.
“You’re the one with experience,” he reminded me. “If it’s really not as grim as it looks, she’ll surface when it’s all over. If you love her, you’ll be there to pick up the pieces.”
“I love her,” I answered definitively. “I’m just not sure how long I’ll have to wait.”
“As long as it takes,” Corey responded.
“That’s not very helpful,” I said.
“I don’t envy you,” the man continued. “But I’m sure it will get better. Just have a little faith.”
I sighed. Of all the things that I was good at, patience wasn’t one of them. “I’ll try,” I said finally. It didn’t seem like I had another choice.
Chapter 12
Theodora
THE WEEKEND WAS A DISASTER. I ignored Brad’s texts until I couldn’t any longer. After three in the afternoon, he stopped communicating with me. Toward midnight Friday night, I was deep into my cups. I didn’t generally use wine to self-soothe, but I couldn’t think of a better option. I was too depressed to go out anywhere, even to go see Corey.
I didn’t even have anyone to call and talk to. All my work friends were scattered to the four corners of the city. They had missed so much of my life since Brad bought Retro, I didn’t want to go through the whole song and dance to fill them in.
Sunny was a great friend, but I knew she would be busy with the girls. They had a Friday night tradition of board games and popcorn, and I didn’t want to interrupt. It was better all-around if I just kept to myself. That way I couldn’t mess anything else up.
I stopped off at the store to get a bottle of red. I picked something deliberately stupid on television and zoned out while drinking alone. It was so pathetic, I almost laughed. Finally, I picked up my phone and sent Brad a message.
I’m sorry I flipped out on you, but I don’t want to talk about it, I wrote. I considered adding something like I’ll be in touch. Or maybe we can get breakfast tomorrow, but I stopped myself. I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but I knew I was no good to anyone else. I didn’t want to hurt him, and I wasn’t ready to break up with him. Dammit, I definitely didn’t want to break up.
The problem was that I couldn’t deal with anyone else’s feelings at the moment. On top of everything, I’d completely ruined my relationship with Annie. In the space of one afternoon, I had gone from a valuable new employee to an albatross around her neck. I needed to fix that, but there was no way I could think of without a spare $200,000 lying around.
It pissed me off that Brad was so rich. If he had any experience living in the real world, he would understand just how terrifying Nikki’s lawsuit was. Yet the moment I thought those words, I wished I hadn’t. At least they stayed locked up in my own skull, unable to hurt anyone. But it wasn’t fair to Brad, and I knew it.
He worked hard for his money. I’d met his parents, and while they were comfortable, they didn’t live in a mansion. He hadn’t been born with a silver spoon. Everything he had, he’d earned, and I couldn’t fault him for that. I just wished he could see the jagged rocks in the distance the way I did, and that certain dread that I was going to fall off a cliff and be dashed against them.
Brad would never have to face homelessness. Even if Nikki got her million, he would be out a few months’ earnings. He wouldn’t face eviction, and he wouldn’t have to eat ramen for the rest of his life. I, on the other hand, was staring down the barrel of a lifetime of self-imposed poverty. And it was terrifying.
The wine worked only too well. As I sat on the couch, feeling sorry for myself, I lost the motivation to do anything more than drink. I finished the entire bottle and had to content myself with my current level of intoxication. Sleep just wouldn’t come, and it was well past two in the morning before I crashed on the couch.
Saturday morning, I just lounged around watching my streaming service. The show I picked wasn’t exactly riveting, but I couldn’t be bothered to select something different. It felt like my life was at an end, and I was only 34.
On Sunday, I managed to get outside to go to the grocery store. Walking through the aisles, I felt a little bit better, but not good enough to talk to anyone. I kept my head down and used the self-checkout to avoid human interaction. Later that night, I finished off a romance novel I was reading. It did nothing for me, but for some reason, I felt more accomplished having finished a book than having binge-watched a season of Charmed.
I went to bed on Sunday night anxious about Monday. I would have to face Annie, and that was one of the last things I wanted to do. Would she call me into the back office and fire me? Would she mention the coffee incident at all? If I knew, I could prepare myself, but there was no way to tell short of texting her, and I wasn’t going to do that.
Brad didn’t contact me either Saturday or Sunday. I felt bad about that, so I did reach out on Sunday just to say good morning. He responded quickly enough, making me feel better. But there was no significant conversation. Certainly, neither of us brought up the fight or the lawsuit. It was probably better that way.
Monday morning arrived, and I wanted to stay in bed. I hit the snooze button three times on my phone before finally dragging myself into the shower. This was it. I had to face the music. I didn’t feel particularly more focused or less anxious than I had on Friday, but what was done was done. It was time to put on my big girl pants and go back to work.
I decided not to get coffee that morning. Once was enough, and I would never make that mistake again. If I never saw a cup of coffee at work again, it would be too soon. Pulling into the parking lot, I took a moment to collect myself. After five minutes of deep breathing, I realized that I was never going to be ready. I just had to do it.
Annie was in the gallery already, cleaning up from the weekend. The metal sculpture installation still took up one quarter of the white room. I paused to look at it, studying it more carefully than I would have if I wasn’t trying to stall. It was kind of ugly-beautiful. Parts of it were shinning and parts of it were scarred. The trash can was full of scraps of aluminum and flowers, probably a statement about the environment, I couldn’t be sure.
“Good morning,” Annie said, surprising me.
I turned, trying to wipe the shock off my face. “Good morning.”
“Are you feeling better?” she asked.
“Yes, thank you,” I responded. There was no other answer. I couldn’t very well tell her I still felt horrible and that I needed more time off. The paycheck from the gallery wasn’t nearly enough, but it was all that I had. “I’m sorry about the painting.”
“It was insured,” Annie responded, sending a tidal wave of relief washing over me.
“Thank goodness,” I whispered, unable to contain my joy. If the painting was insured, then that meant Annie wasn’t out hundreds of thousands of dollars. I didn’t owe her anything, and I didn’t have to feel so incredibly guilty.
Of course, I had ruined the sale, and we weren’t going to recoup the purchase price. But at least I hadn’t plunged the gallery deep into debt my first month on the job. Maybe things would be okay after all. Maybe Nikki’s lawsuit would go the same way. Wasn’t Brad continuously telling me that I had to wait for the judge to make a ruling? That I couldn’t jump the gun?
I closed my eyes and exhaled very slowly, allowing the good news to penetrate my soul. It was going to be okay. I was going to be okay.
“Regardless,” Annie continued, watching me carefully, “I need you to focus while you’re here. If you need someone to talk to, I would be happy to refer you to my doctor.”
“No,” I said quickly. “That’s okay.”
“While you’re here at work, I expect you to be at work,” my boss said.
“Yes,” I responded, stopping myself short of adding a deferential ma’am. It wasn’t the military, and we weren’t living in the south. Annie was more likely to be offended by the addition than appeased, and the last thing I wanted to do was dig myself further into a hole.
“There are some things to clean up in the back.” She moved on to the next order of business after addressing the most pressing concern. “We had a great night on Friday, and I didn’t have time to break everything down Saturday.”
“Okay,” I replied, not wasting any time.
I went into the staff area where I found a big tub of dirty dishes, a whole shelf of half-empty wine bottles, and two large bins of trash. It looked like I was playing the part of janitor today, but I didn’t mind. It was something I could offer Annie without complaint. I rolled up my sleeves and took the dishes over to the sink.
It took me about an hour to clean up the back, after which I resumed my normal spot behind the cash register. Annie had done the walk-through of the gallery, and I didn’t need to check for trash or askew paintings this time. I made sure to keep the counter free of all clutter. I even pushed the business cards farther down toward the customer to make sure I had room for any paintings I might sell.
Two girls wandered in looking for a housewarming gift for a friend. I helped them locate a beautiful landscape featuring a prominent tree. It was not inexpensive, but it wasn’t quite the same caliber as the painting I had ruined. This time, I wrapped it up without incident, and the two young women split the cost.
There were two more significant sales and two folks who bought a stack of postcards the gallery had printed for promotional reasons. I was feeling better after the day passed without incident. Getting back into my car, I felt a rush of relief that the day was done. I could go back to my apartment and spend the rest of the night numbing myself, though it didn’t seem so vital now. Maybe I would go for a walk instead of lying on the couch. That would probably be better for my mental health.
