On the Outside Looking In (Wrong Reasons) (10 page)

“Cool,” Evan said as he straightened to make drinks for three college guys who’d just entered.  Once they had their pitcher of beer, they joined Heidi and Jenn at their table.  “I’m glad you’re back in town.  Let me give you my cell number.”

While they exchanged info, I watched their body language. I was no expert by any means, but it didn’t appear as if there was any sexual tension.  Not that I was experienced in that sort of thing, either.

Beer half finished, Ridley stood up with a smile on her face.  “I need to run.  I just wanted to stop in and let you know I’m around.  It was nice meeting you, Morgan.  Try to keep him out of trouble, huh?”

“See you,” Evan said.

“Bye,” I said, watching as she waltzed out of the bar, drawing male attention.  “She’s pretty.”

“Yeah, she’s a good girl,” Evan said as he washed glasses in the little sink behind the bar.  “I’ve known her since we were kids.  We kind of grew up together.”

“Oh,” I said. 
“Childhood friends, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said as he finished.  He dried his hands on a towel and smiled at me.  “Jealous?”

I snorted.  “At what?”

Laughing, he reached out to caress my cheek.  “Don’t worry, Morgan, she’s like a sister to me, that’s it.”

“I’m not worried,” I said as my cheeks flushed.  “I mean, you know…”

“Gotcha,” he said, positively glee. “So, I’m totally off tomorrow.  Do you want to do something?”

Smiling, I realized that I did.

***

After making arrangements to meet Evan the next day, I went home.  Changing into pajamas, I wrapped myself in a throw blanket and turned on the television.  I wanted to think only about Evan while watching mindless TV.  I didn’t want to think about Jessica and her snide remarks.  I especially didn’t want to think about her traipsing around town with Irelyn and Bailey, looking at houses.

Although I fought it, I couldn’t keep all the doubts and mixed emotions out of my head.  It was stupid and childish to get my feelings hurt about not being invited, but I couldn’t help the way I felt.  I’d been working hard to get my friendships back on track, but obviously not hard enough.

Was it possible that the nonsense Jessica had spewed in the bathroom Friday night was right?  Were Bailey and Irelyn just being polite?  Did they not want me to be part of their little group any longer?

Shaking my head, I drew the blanket tightly around me.  I didn’t need to be with them every single day.  I didn’t want to be a shadow, following them around while they lived their lives.  But I did miss them.  I did miss the closeness.

I just needed to talk to them.  I needed to tell them how I was feeling.  We needed to quit skating around the summer incident and put it all out on the table.  Maybe, once that happened, then things could become a little more normal.

Snuggling into the sofa, I smiled.  Things would work out – they had to.

Chapter Ten

The weeks flew as quickly as leaves whipping in the fall wind.  Before I knew it, the Thanksgiving holiday was upon me and I was preparing to go home.

Evan was disappointed that I wouldn’t be around for the holiday, although he understood that I needed to go home to see my family.  Things between us had been going remarkably well and not too fast.  We’d spent
hours together, hanging out at the mall, going to the movies, or at Rusty’s.  We’d shared a few little kisses – nothing too passionate – and I was fairly happy.

If only things with my friends could be going as well.  I was finding it harder and harder to get in touch with Irelyn and Bailey.  My plan of sitting down with them and getting everything out hadn’t come to fruition.  I ate lunch with Bailey occasionally at school and met up with them at Rusty’s, but we hadn’t had much time to get together to talk.

I helped Irelyn and Lucas move into a little house close to Dunne-Browling the week before Thanksgiving – and tolerated Jessica’s little taunts.  Bailey and Collin hadn’t had as much luck finding a house, though.  They were finding time to look increasingly difficult as the guys had started recording with the indie label.

I packed slowly, dreading the trip back home.  I adored my family very much, but couldn’t stand the lectures about my future from my father and the inquisitions about my social life from my mother.

Just as I stacked my things by the door, my cellphone rang.  Locating it on the kitchen table, I smiled as Evan’s name showed on the screen.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Morgan.  Packed yet?” he asked.

“Yes, just finished,” I said, eyeing the single suitcase next to the door.  “All set.”

“What time are you leaving?” he asked.

“Early,” I said.  “I promised my mother.  It was the only way I could get her off my back for not spending the entire week at home.”

He laughed.  “Apologize to her for me.  It’s my fault that you didn’t go sooner.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said, smiling.  “I wasn’t planning on going home until Wednesday, anyway.”

“Sure,” he said.  “Whatever.  I know the truth.  I know you can’t resist my charms.”

“Okay, Evan,” I said as I walked to the living, sinking into my chair.  “I’ll let you continue to believe that.  I’d hate to burst your bubble.”

“Whatever,” he said.  “So, when will you be back?”

“Not until Saturday,” I said.  “I’m hoping, at least.  My mother might convince me to stay until Sunday.”

“Make sure to call me,” he said.  “It’s going to be boring around here without you.”

“Don’t you have plans?” I asked. 
“With your aunt and uncle?”

“Yeah,” he said. 
“Big dinner and all that. That will be fun, but the rest of the time will suck.”

My heart twittered.  “I’ll call you, I promise.  I need to get to bed – I’m leaving early, remember?”

“Yep.  Be careful and have fun.”

Ending the call, I smiled as I took the phone to my bedroom and put it on the charger.  Quickly changing, I crawled into bed, my heart happy.

***

“Morgan,” my mother said Thanksgiving Day as I walked into the kitchen.  The scent of turkey floated in the air, combined with other pleasant smells from the various dishes on the stove.  “Can you check the table?  I want it to be perfect.”

“Sure, Mom,” I said, pecking her cheek.  She smiled before opening the oven to check on the bird.

My mother had a fully staffed house: Gardener, cook, maid.  But she insisted on always giving her staff holidays off – wanting to take care of everything herself.  She was an amazing cook, just opted to let someone else handle it most of the time.

I walked into the dining room and checked the table that I’d set earlier.  The decorative tablecloth was even, stretched perfectly across the table.  Each setting had a linen placemat in which my mother’s best China sat atop.  Her family’s silverware, polished to a shine, sat on linen napkins, in perfect order, beside each plate.

In the center of the beautiful table was a large Thanksgiving bouquet, artfully arranged in a basket.  The browns, yellows, and oranges caught the light from the candles shimmering in their crystal holders.  The entire room gave off a warm, family feel.

“Is it time to eat yet?” my father asked as he walked into the room, dressed in pressed trousers and his best cashmere cardigan over a white, oxford shirt.

“Dad,” I said, laughing, “We have to wait for everyone to get here.”

“They’re always late,” he frowned.  “Why am I the only punctual person in the family?”

“I don’t know,” I said as I rolled to my toes and pecked his cheek.

“So, Morgan, how are classes?” he asked as he trailed behind me on my way to the kitchen.  I’d been waiting for this – had been surprised when it hadn’t happened the night before.

“Fine, Dad,” I said.  “I’m doing well.”

“Still thinking about teaching art to children?”

I paused, recalling a conversation I’d had with my photographer professor just a week earlier.  We’d been working with models, working with face angles and lighting.  My professor had kept me after class one day, expressing his pleasure with my work.  He’d asked me if I’d considered a career in fashion photography, exclaiming that I had an artistic eye – the sort of eye that high fashion magazines looked for.  It had got me rethinking my entire life plan.

“I’m not sure,” I said.  “I’m doing really well in my photography classes…”

He wrinkled his nose as he groaned, waving a hand.  “That’s no career – that’s a hobby.  Teaching is a noble profession, although I think that you should consider teaching at a higher level.”

The doorbell rang, sparing me for the moment.  I hurried away to answer it, ushering in my aunt and uncle and my grandparents.  More relatives arrived and by the time my mother placed the perfectly basted bird on the table, the place was as crowded as Rusty’s on a Saturday night.

Once everyone had taken a seat, my father said grace and then carved the bird.  The noise level rose as dishes were passed around and my mother was complimented on her skills.

“I’ve always said that it’s important for a woman to know how to cook,” my grandmother said, giving my mother a nod and a smile.  “Wonderful job, dear.”

“Thank you, Mother,” my mother said.

“How are your culinary skills, Morgan?” my grandmother asked.

“Oh, they’re fine,” I said with a forced smile.

“Morgan is more focused on her academic classes right now,” my father chimed as he passed a heaping bowl of sweet potatoes to my Uncle Roy.

“Yes, I understand,” Grandmother said.  “But she’s not going to find a suitable gentleman if she’s hiding away in a library.”

“I agree,” Mother said.

I refrained from rolling my eyes as I bent over my plate.

“She needs to have something to fall back on,” Dad said.  “She needs a career.”

“She won’t have to work if she finds the right young man,” Grandmother said.  “She should worry about finding the proper gentleman to court and marry.  It worked well for my daughters.”

The atrocity, I sighed.  But, that was my mother’s family.  Their mission in life was to marry well.

Dad smiled, shooting me a look that told me that I should not consider my grandmother’s words.  I returned his smile, letting him know that I hadn’t.  I wondered, in that moment, what Grandmother would think of Evan.  I nearly snorted in my stuffing.

Dinner was bearable, even though it took close to an hour. My face hurt from my false smile and I had an ache in my neck from all the nodding.  I gave the right answers to the same questions and helped my mother and my aunt clear the table and load the dishwasher.  The men retired to the study for brandy and cigars while the women gathered in the living room for coffee.  I wished I’d told my mother that I had to return to Dalefield on Friday, rather than Saturday.

“Are you shopping tomorrow morning?” Aunt Estelle asked my mother.

“Yes.  Morgan and I are getting up early,” Mother said. 

“Oh, the crowds will be terrible,” Grandmother said.  “Why do you want to do that?”

“It’s fun,” I said.  “Mom and I find great deals and then have breakfast.”

“But you get up so early,” Grandmother said.  “If you need something that badly, why not send the help?”

Mother and Aunt Estelle exchanged an amused look – they’d grown up with Grandmother’s attitude.

“Like Morgan said,” Mother smiled.  “It’s fun.  I enjoy spending that time with my daughter.”

“I suppose,” Grandmother said as she sipped her coffee.  “Morgan, dear, will you please go ask your Grandfather how much longer he will be?  It’s getting late.”

“Sure,” I said, grateful to leave the room.

***

“Tell me, Morgan,” Mother said as we browsed racks of clothing at her favorite boutique.  Their Black Friday bargains were Mother’s favorite even though the prices were still outrageous.

“Yes?” I asked as I held up a soft, pink sweater.

“How is your social life?” she asked.

After escaping an inquisition at dinner, I’d expected to be pelted with questions while shopping.  I hadn’t prepared much, though, and wasn’t sure how much to tell her.

“It’s fine,” I said.

“How are Irelyn and Bailey?”

“Irelyn is engaged,” I said, hesitating.  I hadn’t wanted to tell her about Bailey but I figured she’d find out somehow, sooner or later.  “And Bailey is expecting.”

“Really?” she said, spinning to face me.  “Is she going to get married?”

“I don’t know,” I said as I put the sweater back on the rack.  “She hasn’t decided yet.”

“I know you girls don’t see marriage the way my generation did, but don’t you think that a wedding should come before a child?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” I said.  “It’s Bailey’s decision.  She’s perfectly happy living with Collin.”

“Oh, I hope you don’t do anything of that sort, Morgan,” Mother said with a shudder.  “I can just imagine the scandal.  Those old bats at the Club would have a field day bad-mouthing me.  They are so catty.”

I nodded, eyeing the array of cardigans on the next rack.

“And your grandparents – oh, they would be crushed,” she continued.  “They would be so upset and angry.”

“Well, I’m not living with anyone nor am I pregnant,” I said.  “So, you can relax.”

She managed a smile as she moved next to me, flipping through the cardigans.  “When is Irelyn going to marry?”

“This summer,” I said.  “She’s asked me to be a bridesmaid.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Mother said, her eyes sparkling.  “Have you shopped for dresses yet?”

“No,” I said.

“I know of some charming shops in Indianapolis.  I’ll give you a list before you leave.”

After that, conversation centered on Irelyn’s upcoming nuptials, Mother tossing out suggestions as to venue, menu, and place settings.  I was never so glad to get back to the house.

Friday evening, I spent at home, listening to my parents gently argue over my future.  Dad wanted to go over next semester’s schedule, suggesting classes I should take, while Mother wanted to talk about possible husband candidates.  Around eight o’clock, I feigned a headache and went to bed. 

I left early the next morning, claiming the need to study for upcoming exams. 

I met Evan at Beans once I unpacked.  We took our coffee to the table near the windows, watching the Christmas shoppers rush from store to store.

“So, how’s the family?” he asked as he blew across his coffee.

“The same,” I said with a grimace.  I was already dreading going home for Christmas.  “How about you?”

“Oh, it was nice. 
Lots of good food, football on the TV, drinking beer and playing cards.”

“Sounds fun,” I said.

“Yeah, it was,” he said.  “But I had more fun Wednesday night at Rusty’s.”

The glint in his eye combined with the slight smirk on his lips caught my attention.  “What happened Wednesday?”

“Oh, the usual gang was there,” he said.  “Bailey and Collin, Irelyn and Lucas, Jessica and Spencer.”

“Didn’t Bailey go home for the holiday?” I asked.

“Guess not,” he said.

“Okay,” I said, puzzled.  “So, what happened?”

“Jessica,” he laughed.  “I wasn’t working, just hanging out, so Jessica asked me to join them.  She kept asking me questions about you, trying to pry out of me the nature of our relationship.”

“Oh, wonderful,” I groaned.

“Yeah, it was a pain in my ass but I had a little fun with it,” he said.

“What did you do?” I asked.

Laughing, he leaned forward.  “She kept asking questions about us, being really nosy, so I just answered sort of vague, but I led her to believe that we weren’t in a real relationship – that we were just having a torrid affair.”

My eyes grew as my heart pounded.  “You did not.”

“I did,” he said, leaning back.  “She shut up – didn’t know what to say.”