Where Would I Be Without You (14 page)

I raised my eyebrows in question as I set my empty milk glass in the sink.  "Nope.  Quite
all right.  We all know how senseless I can be.  Why make me out to be something I am not?  I suppose Mark Anthony, that's Mason's dad, is just trying to keep his son from doing something really stupid again, like falling for someone me."

Marion walked over and put her hand on my shoulder.  "Don't be
Daft Darling."  She said it in an English accent.  I knew she had been caught up in her English soap opera Downton Abby.  I didn't blame her.  I was a season behind and just waiting for her to lend me her iPad again, loaded with the next season, for a long day of nothing but English proper drama.

She grabbed my hand, led me over to my couch and told me to sit.  When she finally sat next to me, she let out a huge sigh and smiled brightly as if to cheer me up.  "Here's
the deal.  So Carl and Mason went out for a few drinks after the meeting.  Carl sensed the poor chap needed it.  Which he did.  When Carl found out that Mason had to do maintenance on a building for six months, he knew you lived in a building owned by Montahue Properties.  So, Carl showed him a picture of you and me that he took on his phone.  Remember that brunch we all attended, and you looked smashing.  That one.  Well, Mason wanted to know all about you.  Carl made you out to be one hell of a woman.  I'm not sure if it was coincidence that put your two apartments across from each other, it could be Mason did a little check ahead if you get my drift.  Carl mentioned you might be single.  I guess, just by what I said about Steve and your dates, Carl already figured the guy had a wife or girlfriend.  Sorry.  I thought of mentioning it the day Carl thought it aloud, but the next day was your family party, and you know.  I guess I wanted to meet the guy first.  Get my own opinion formed.  By the way, I had planned on grilling the son of a bitch with several questions, nicely of course.  Anyway, back to Mason.  It was just a coincidence with the whole you drunk naked dancing and passing out due to the birthday family dinner fiasco.  But it's a really cute story you can tell your kids one day."

I sat in silence for a second
mulling all of that over, then I crossed my arms and pouted.  "I doubt we will be creating any offspring.  Not to mention the fact that I eluded the fact that Steve is married part by substituting in crazy mad wife for crazy mad girlfriend.  I didn't want it to look like I am such a blithering idiot, which obviously I am."

"Stop."  Marion
put her hand up in a stop motion and frowned.  "Stop making yourself out to be so bad.  You're not.  Your awesome, besides your pouty look doesn't work for me.  I'm team Amber, remember."

"I know."  I paused as I took in a huge breath.  "It's just I was already planning the wedding.  Is that so weird?"

"Yes... and no.  I was that way with Carl.  Think about it.  Just a week ago today, you were hopeful that Steve and you might just take it up a notch to commitment and look what happened.  This time, you know a lot more about Mason.  You both seem to really like each other.  Heck, he took you to meet his family, although a bit too soon if you ask me.  What I gathered from Carl, Mason gets a bit too excited easily.  This little disaster probably had him thinking, just like it got you thinking."

"Yeah.  I think I should slow it down.  I almost feel pressured now to work on my growing up plan before stepping back out to the world and announcing
'hey, look at me'.  You know.  Maybe get going on the whole management online course.  Get in a few charitable hours at an elder home or dog shelter.  Deliver meals on wheels.  Something.  Then maybe I wouldn't look like such a disaster to his dad."

"Stop.  Who cares what his dad thinks?  Ok.  I know you do, but slowing it down might not be a bad idea.  By all means, let's keep the family dinners for
like, month four of serious dating.  It was a fluke that he got to meet your mom and sister already.  Meeting family does not include going out for drinks with Carl and I, by the way.  Once you two have ironed it out, we would like to go out as a couple.  Carl says they got along great.  No pressure by the way.  And I really like him, because he really likes you."

I let that mull over in my
mind, and then I reached over and hugged her.  "You're right.  Like always.  Hey.  How was the baby shopping?"

A
loud 'ugh' echoed out through my apartment.  I got the impression she was about to unleash the MIL shopping stories on me.  I did not mind.  I needed something to take my mind off Mason.

By the time Marion left, it was past
dinnertime and no Mason.  I had turned my phone back on, and I did not see a text or message.  So I did what any 'grown-up' woman would do, I logged on and completed some information on my on-line management course.  I charted a calendar set with dates and times specific to when I was to study and be on-line.  Kind of like a job.  I patted myself on the back for doing that.  Then I did a search engine wording for volunteer work and there were more choices than I could possibly imagine.  I finally settled on reading to the elderly at a senior center on Sunday mornings.  I figured if I wasn't going to get up early enough to go to church, I would at least give back to my community by getting to the Senior Center by ten for a few hours of reading.  Besides, I had a great theatrical voice that I mastered in high school drama, this was going to be fun.

Somewhere in all my efficiency, was Mason, lingering in between decisions, thoughts
, and fingers clicking on the keyboard.  I had my doubts about how things were going to go forward.  I had wished he had said something on the ride back to my apartment that reassured me of what he wanted, that being me.  I even thought of how nice it would have been if the rest of his family wasn't so quiet when his father spoke up.  I guess they are one of those old Catholic families that doesn't speak out against the head of the household.  It's not like I can expect everyone to be as outspoken as I am.  Lord knows, it has gotten me into more trouble than I would want to admit to.  I don't think me sticking up for Mason helped the matter any.

I picked up my phone and put in the text before I could change my mind.  Besides, Mason might want an out in this relationship
any ways.  This text will give it to him.  I simply typed in:  Need some space, let's give this thing a rest for a bit.

I hit the send button with much trepidation that I was making a mistake.  I
did not want a breakup, but perhaps a break from any family meddling.  Deep down, what I truly wanted was for him to rush over here and confess his undying love for me, wrap me in his arms and show me tenderness for the drama that we just endured.  Somehow, I did not see that happening.  Watching too many romance movies always put a damper on what really happened in these situations, at least that was what my grown up side of my brain was saying to me.

I grabbed my ereader off my
charger, locked up my apartment for the night by putting the safety chain in place, and headed to my room.  I was still full from my cupcake mixed with the pity party drama that had my stomach on the edge, so I settled for a hot tea and my fluffy land of twenty or so pillows on my bed and settled in for a good read.

Sometime around ten
p.m., I had drifted off to sleep, only to be woken up to my phone buzzing with a text.  It was Mason.  He was outside my door and wanted in.  I didn't move.  I froze.  I wanted to rush to the door and let him in, but instead my body laid there weak from all the chaotic emotions that had boiled in my head all night.  Then my phone lit up with him calling.  I had the ringer on silent, but the vibration caused my phone to move about on my nightstand.  Then I saw it stopped, and it was as if I had been holding my breath.  I picked up my phone and held it, debating whether or not to call him back.  I finally settled on checking the voice mail he left me.

As I listened, I ached for his arms to surround me.  "Amber.  Please call me.  We need to talk.  I want to apologize for my father's actions
, hell, my actions.  Listen.  We don't need a break, but if you want one, I understand.  Call me, okay?"

I was torn.  I wanted to call him back so badly, yet I knew the type of man he
was; he might actually want the break and just want me to think it was my idea.  Wait.  It was my idea.  But did he want the break and was just making it sound as if he was honoring my decision?  I was falling deeper into a crevice of indecision.  Calling him now would only make me doubt it more later.

I fell asleep with my phone in my hand out of
exhaustion from mental thinking around midnight.  I never called back.  I wanted to, badly.  Somehow, playing hard to get or not playing at all seemed like the more mature thing to do.  I wanted him to think that I was putting serious thought into all this, and I was, but I also wanted him to feel bad that I didn't call back, which was immature.  I was on the fence about how I was dealing with this, yet I knew seeing him or talking to him right now did me no good.  I think?  I fell asleep with those questioning thoughts rolling back and forth in my brain.

When I woke, I had to trudge through getting ready.  By the time I was three blocks from my apartment, my car died.  It made a gagging sound and
sputtered, then nothing.  Dead.  Wouldn't start or move.  I was in the midst of morning rush hour on a major side street, and some not too happy co-drivers were honking at me.  As I got out of my car, put my hood up as a signal that my car was down, a woman in her fifties pulled over and parked in a metered parking spot, right next to where I was stalled.  In her navy work dress and three-inch heels, she offered to steer my car off the main street to a parking spot empty ahead of me while I pushed.  I thanked her profusely as we worked together to get my car moved out of the way.  She jumped back in her car after wishing me a better day, and I waved her on with a smile as I watched her merge back into traffic an inch at a time.

It could have been worse.  I could have been on the highway or further from my apartment.  I texted Wally Woo that I needed a vacation day because my car died on
the way to work.  Then I sent a second text to make it seem as if I was being productive: 'I am going to work on my college courses'.  He sent me an 'ok' back.

I grabbed my
purse; tossed in enough coins in the meter for two hours, and hoped like heck my plan to get my dad to come have my car towed would work.  I locked up my dead car, not that anyone would steal it; it wasn't worth stealing, or that this was a bad end of town, all the same, there had been bums known to take a nap in unlocked cars around here.  I trudge the block and half away from my apartment to the bakery.  Not a healthy sign that I was visiting here again this week, Marion's cupcake trip was just yesterday.  However, I was in dire need of a blueberry muffin and large hot coffee, flavored with lots of creamer to help me walk back to my apartment.  By the time I made it home, both were gone, and I figured I would call my dad and let him handle the dead car situation for me.  If there was one thing that made him happy, it was to come to my rescue.  I never let him deal with my man drama, but my dead car or late bill drama; he was first on my list.

I closed my apartment
door, just as I hung up with my dad on my cell phone.  I set my purse on my table next to the door and stood there shocked and dismayed by what I saw.

There, in Mason's apartment, across the alleyway from me and in plain sight
, was a naked, except for a towel, Mason.  His back was to me.  However, that didn't shock me.  What did, was the naked blonde bimbo with big boobs, naked - did I mention that, standing in front of him, with her naked boobs facing towards my apartment.  I watched her move in on my man, arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands come up.  I could not watch anymore.  He must have thought I was at work and it was safe to play with woman number two.  I turned and stormed into my room, tossing pillows at my door and practically growling with a scream.

When I finally lost steam from picking up and throwing my twenty or so decorative pillows about ten times, I grabbed an extra
dark-blue bed sheet out of my closet.  I went to the kitchen and found my silver duct tape.  I walked right over to my window with the bench seat that faced his place, tossed the cushion he got me onto the floor, and I put that sheet up over the window.  I did look though.  There was no naked Mason, or naked big boob woman standing there.  I didn't care.  What I did care about was the fact that I was officially over playboy Mason Montahue, I'm not good enough for you.

Chapter Eleven

"Sitting around eating all
the blue peanut M&M's out of that two pounder bag of M&Ms you got there is not going to solve any of your problems."  My aunt Heather, recently back from the Bahamas, tanned and heavy blonde streaks that have taken over her brown hair, took the bag of M&Ms out of my hand and walked over to the trash can, hit her foot on the pedal that raised the lid, and dumped the rest of the M&M's in, bag and all.

"What the hey?  I was going to eat all the yellow next."  I stammered while cuddling deeper into my couch
as I hit the mute on the movie I was watching.  I tossed a glare at my aunt Heather that could evaporate a bad politician from thin air for misconduct.

As my
aunt stood there, freshly tanned from the Bahamas, some curl to her long mostly blonde but born a brunette hair and striking a motherly poise in an outfit that wasn't motherly, she decided to scold me in tone.  "Listen.  You will thank me later.  Think of all the hours on the elliptical it would take to burn those off.  Not to mention, if you were my age, and once you turn forty, the metabolism turns off.  Best to start now on better habits."  She smiled as she grabbed the red handled straps of the white trash bag, pulled it up out of the trash can, tied the red handles in a triple knot, and then put a fresh bag in my trash.  Like taking out my trash would make it any better.