Unwritten (9 page)

My thoughts of Rich and I together were suddenly interrupted by the ringing coming from Rich’s pants pocket. He grabbed his cell and checked the caller ID.

“Sorry, it’s Aubrey. I better take it.” Before I knew it, Rich had removed his arms from my waist and was walking to the other end of the boat deck for some privacy.

“Hey, babe …” I heard him say as he walked away from me.

There was a monumental shift in his behavior after that call from Aubrey. He hardly spoke two words after he returned to me on the deck. The heat we had generated had been replaced with an icy, cold shoulder when he returned.

I couldn’t wait to get off that boat and into the bus where I could talk to other people besides Rich. It didn’t really work out in my favor, though; Cassidy was too busy flirting with what appeared to be three single Lambdas in the back of the bus and my other girlfriends were all busy making out with their boyfriends. I sat pinned between the window and Rich during the ride.

“Well this is awkward,”
I thought to myself.

“What’s that?” Rich asked.

Crap, I didn’t mean to say that out loud …
“Oh, nothing. It’s not important,” I said, as I leaned my head against the cool, glass window.

I must have dozed off on the way home because I was suddenly woken by the sound of Rich’s voice and his hand rubbing against my shoulder.

“Hey, Brooke, we’re back, Sleeping Beauty. Let’s get you off this bus and back to your room.”

Rich walked me the few blocks back to my room and an eerie sense of déjà vu overcame me. Just like the two other times when Rich walked me to my door, he wrapped his arms around me. This time felt different though; I didn’t feel the same intimacy as before when his arms were wrapped around my waist on the deck of the boat. He seemed more distant this time. His mind must be on Aubrey because it certainly wasn’t with me.

Rich gave me a quick, chaste peck on the cheek and thanked me for inviting him. I smiled and told him goodnight before I stepped into my room and shut the door behind me. The third time would not be the charm for Rich and me.

Rich was to graduate summa cum laude from the Western Michigan University class of 2002, just a few weeks following the sorority formal. I didn’t see him much in those weeks, as we’d wrapped up production for the
Eagle
in early April due to student finals and the impending graduation.

I found myself daydreaming a lot about what could have been had I dumped Jay when he first expressed his absurd proposal ultimatum. Rich wouldn’t be with Aubrey Sullivan right now and he would probably be waking up with me in his bed on the morning of graduation. I would lick all the cinnamon goodness from his mouth before helping him get ready for his big commencement ceremony.

As usual, Cassidy snapped me back to reality when she returned with, at least, a dozen boxes in tow. She’d stopped by the local grocery store to pick up some empty shipping boxes so we could pack our stuff, before heading back to our hometown for the summer months.

I decided to attend the graduation ceremony that next morning. I wanted to congratulate many of my sorority sisters as well as see Rich one final time. I had convinced myself that this was it for Rich and me. Our hometowns weren’t really all that close and I had no particular reason to see him outside of school.

Cassidy sat next to me and whistled annoyingly as each one of our sorority sisters walked across the stage to claim her diploma. The loudest catcall I’d ever heard, erupted from her throat, as Rich strutted across the stage, shaking the hands of the academic hierarchy. He looked amazing with his perfectly ironed, black robe. The knot on his cobalt tie and collar of his white shirt peeked through the top zipper of his gown. What I would do to get him out of that gown and every layer underneath it.

After the diplomas had been distributed and the class of 2002 had been announced, the graduates were released to the embraces of their families. I congratulated several of my sorority sisters and other friends before I noticed Rich with whom, I assumed, were his parents and sister. I slowly made my way toward him and our eyes locked, as I continued across the spacious quad area that had been set up for the commencement ceremony.

A smile widened on his face as I walked into his extended arms. He held me tight against his chest for a minute before I forced myself to step away. Feeling tears welling up in my eyes, I attempted to tell him goodbye.

“Well, I guess congratulations are in order, huh,” I said. “Seems like just yesterday you were driving me bat-shit crazy in Markley’s class and now you’re graduating. I just can’t believe it’s time to say goodbye.” I blinked back the tears as best I could before I felt one escape down my cheek.

“Hey, don’t cry, Brooke. We’ll keep in touch. This isn’t goodbye, I promise. Besides, you’ll be such a hot shot senior next year, I’m sure you’ll forget all about Rich Davis.”

“I’ll never forget about Rich Davis,” I told him, as I gave him my most forced smile. “Is this … is this your family?” I managed to ask between sniffles.

“Yes, how rude of me. This is my mom, Brenda; my dad, Michael; my sister, Jennifer; my brother-in-law, Connor; and this precious angel is my niece Leila,” he said, as he rubbed the infant’s soft, blonde head. “Guys, this is my friend, Brooke.”

I made small talk with his family for a few minutes before noticing Aubrey come up and hug Rich from behind. He quickly turned around and pulled her off her feet before giving her a chaste kiss on the lips. I decided it was my cue to leave and placed my hand on Rich’s shoulder as he put Aubrey back on her feet and turned around to face me.

“Well, I guess it’s time for me to head out. Keep in touch, Rich,” I said.

“I’ll miss you, Brooke. But, remember, this isn’t goodbye.” He used his fingers to wipe the tears that were now falling from my eyes and gave me a quick peck on the cheek before I turned around and quickly walked back toward Cassidy who was standing with a group of our friends.

The next year went by in a blur. Before I knew it, I was the one walking across the stage, shaking the hands of the academic hierarchy. Rich was right about one thing he had said a year earlier: I may have become a hot shot senior, but I would never forget him. He didn’t keep his promise either, though. I hadn’t talked to him since that day a year earlier in this exact same location. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, where he was, or if he was seeing anyone.

I asked Aubrey about him when we began our senior year, but she informed me that the two of them had ended their relationship shortly after his graduation. She didn’t go into much detail, but I didn’t really expect her to, as we never had been very friendly toward each other.

As I turned my tassel from the right side over to the left with the rest of Western Michigan University’s class of 2003, I decided it was finally time to end the Rich chapter of my life. I was moving to East Lansing in just a few months to begin graduate studies in journalism at Michigan State University, and it was time to start fresh.

As I made my way toward my parents who were sitting next to Cassidy’s mom and dad, I knew my story with Rich Davis had probably come to an end. Perhaps, it wasn’t the greatest love story ever written, and maybe, it wasn’t a love story at all, but, at least, it was our story.

PART TWO:

Fall 2011

I
just wasn’t feeling myself lately. Ever since Cassidy had Kaitlyn, we hadn’t been able to go out much. Sure, I loved my goddaughter to pieces, but hanging out watching every Disney princess movie wasn’t my idea of an entertaining Friday night. In fact, ever since she turned two, it had gotten to be a bit much since Aunt Brookie had to dress in her tiara and princess tutu before watching said movies.

Oh, I was only kidding myself. That little girl, her mom and I dressed in tutus, eating popcorn mixed with Junior Mints and singing at the top of our lungs to “Under the Sea” was the highlight of my life. Oh, and don’t forget the wine. Cassidy and I even invested in special wine, sippy cups so that Kaitlyn would think we were just drinking apple juice right along with her. Hopefully, she would be twenty-one before she realized our dirty little secret.

Cassidy’s short relationship with Steve What’s-His-Name only lasted about two months, but those two months produced the most beautiful baby girl. Steve What’s-His-Name wasn’t in the picture for obvious reasons. He did nothing but bail on my best friend when she informed him she was pregnant, a little over three years ago. I believe he mumbled something about her “getting fat” before he left her in tears, just a few weeks pregnant. Of course, I was the first one she called when he left her a blubbering mess. I could barely understand her through her hiccupping sobs, but I rushed to her little apartment and spent nearly the entire pregnancy at her side.

I moved in with her during those nine months to help hold her hair back through the morning sickness and spoon with her at night when she couldn’t sleep. Not only was I best friend, I had also become Lamaze coach, surrogate dad and Aunt Brookie. I loved both of them like my family. And, besides my dad, they were the only family I had. I suppose all three of them were the reasons I put my dreams on hold. At least, that’s what I always told myself.

After my mom died nearly six years ago, I wanted to stay at home so my dad wouldn’t be alone. I completed my master’s degree at Michigan State University, but I didn’t use it much to further my career. Sure, I was writing and editing for a local paper, but I wasn’t soaring high at the big-city paper like I had always envisioned. Instead of covering presidential campaigns and the latest scandal on Capitol Hill, I was covering small-town politics and stories like the latest membership drive for the Red Hat Society.

My most fascinating story was when the water installation project turned sour in one of the rural townships. I suppose I could credit myself with, at least, reporting hard news instead of writing about the latest fashion trend, or diet fad, like all the reporters I read about it my favorite romance novels.

I did consider myself a real reporter even if it wasn’t at the
Washington Post
. I had given up on my dreams of moving to Washington D.C. several years ago. Most journalists aim for a position at the
New York Times, Los Angeles Times
or
Chicago Tribune
. But, with my focus in college on both political science and journalism, it was the vision of working at the
Post
that stayed with me for so many years. I remember working on a research assignment for one of my political science courses and using an article for my outline. “One day this will be my byline,” I remember telling Cassidy, as I ran my thumb across the inky paper.

For the last six years, I kept making excuses for why I never applied to positions in the larger cities. I kept telling myself that I probably wasn’t cut out for an urban assignment. After all, what if my dad needed me? What if Cassidy and Kaitlyn needed me? I was starting to think that it might not be the case after all.

I was really more afraid of me needing them and I needed to get past my fears and insecurities. Maybe the big city is just what the doctor ordered to help get me out of this rut and this funk. Come to think of it maybe the funk is just because I haven’t showered in two days …
maybe
that’s why I haven’t gotten laid in six months.