Winter Jacket (30 page)

Troian eyeballed my drink choice.
I don't think she'd ever seen me drink bourbon before. "I'm guessing dinner with the parents didn't go as planned."

I
ran a single finger along the rim of my glass, feeling more than  little morose. "Was this relationship doomed from the start?"

Troian exhaled loudly and blew her hair out of her face.
"I don't know what to tell you, Bookworm. It certainly wasn't the most ideal situation from the start."

I breathed in sharply through my nose. 
"I think we broke up." The words felt funny in my mouth.

"What do you mean, you
think
?" Troian asked. She looked as exasperated with me as I felt.

Nikole's features hardened. "What happened?" I knew she felt protective of
Hunter, especially after what had happened with Ruby.

"We were having a nice enough time at dinner, but then her mom asked how we met."

"And the shit hit the fan," Troian guessed.

I nodded. "
Hunter stormed out, and I followed. And on the drive home I might have suggested her mom was right that we shouldn't be together." I roughly ran my hands through my hair. "I just can't shake the age difference."

"Why are you still hung up on that?
Seriously, Elle." Troian shook her head. "Age is just a number. Hunter is probably the most mature girlfriend you've ever had. And it's not like you're the most grownup 30-year-old out there," she pointed out.

I made a frustra
ted noise. "I know, I know.”  I pulled at my hair.

"And soon she won't even be a student at your school anymore," Nikole added.
"She's graduating in May."

"Then maybe I'll wait a few months and see if she wants to try again."
I took a quick slug of my drink and swallowed it down with a grimace.  The fiery alcohol burned against the back of my throat and I nearly coughed it back up.

"You're kidding, right?" Nikole looked appalled. "You can't just flit in and out of someone's life when it's convenient for you."

I rested my head in my hands. "I don't know what to do."

"If you really want to be with this girl, you won't let something paltry like 9 years get in the way," Troian said, punctuating her words with a shaking fist. "You make it work."

"You go over to her apartment right now, apologize, and stop screwing up," Nikole added.

Nikole’s suggestion sounded horrible.
I drained the rest of my drink too quickly.  I reached for the bottle again.

Troian gave me a judgmental look.
"You sure you want another drink?"

My hand halted and my
features pinched together. "Of course I want another one," I said in an annoyed tone.

I knew I was being rude, but my day had soured so much
, so quickly, I couldn't wait another moment to get home and crawl into bed. I wanted to bury myself in melancholy and down comforters.

I was screwing everything up.
I was self-destructing.

Troian opened her mouth, but stopped when she felt her g
irlfriend's hand at her waist.

"Just let her have this," Nikole advised in a low tone.
  She watched me fumble with the cap on the bottle of scotch as I prepared to serve myself again. "She'll feel like shit in the morning, but that's probably for the best."

Troian frowned
.  "Fine," she reluctantly conceded.

“I’m sitting right here,” I grumbled.

“I reserve the right to talk about you in front of you when you’re being an ass,” Troian proclaimed.

"When did my life turn into such a drama?" I sighed and rubbed at my face.
  I abandoned pouring myself a second drink.  Nikole was right.  Another drink would make me feel worse than I already did.

I'd always thought relationships should be the easiest thing in your life.
Whenever they became a complication and not a complement to my life is typically when I ran away. The world of work was supposed to be hard; love was supposed to be easy. But if I continued running when things got tough, I'd be perpetually single.

"That's life," Troian shrugged. "It's not supposed to be easy.
If life had no challenges or complications, you'd take for granted the good things in your life."

"So what are you going to do? Walk away
or fight for her?" Nikole pressed.

"I wish it were that easy, you guys." I stood up, and I could see the confusion and disappointment on both their faces.
I felt it, too. I was confused about what to do and not a little bit disappointed with myself for being such a coward. "Thanks for the drink and the talk," I said, grabbing my jacket. "I've got to get home and feed Sylvia."

Troian gave me an incredulous look. "So that's it? All that obsessing about
Hunter for months and months and months, and your answer is to go home and feed your cat?"

I shook my head sadly and started for the front door. "I'm sorry.
I just need more time to figure this thing out."

"I'm not going to babysit her for you," I could hear Troian call behind me. "I'm not going to tell you when someone else swoops in and takes your place."

Her words made me pause my exit.  “She wouldn’t.”

Troian didn’t look convinced by my weak protest.  “She might.”

+++++

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Troian nudged me in the ribs. “What do you think is up with that guy?” She nodded in the direction of a man seated in the exit row.  He had the porthole-sized window drawn shut and one hand played solitaire on his phone while the other gripped at the overhead compartment lid.  His jaw worked erratically around a piece of gum.  He looked the picture of a nervous flyer, except one thing – he wore a commercial pilot uniform.

I gripped onto my armrests tighter; the chair squeaked from the stress. “Oh God,” I mumbled forlornly. “We’re going to die.”

Troian chuckled.  She reached in the pouch in front of her knees and pulled out a water bottle.
“No. We’re fine,” she reassured me. 

I eyeballed my best friend.
“How can you be so sure?”

She uncapped the water bottle and took a small sip. “Because
that
dude’s not flying the plane.”

The
airplane bounced a little with turbulence. I shut my eyes tight and hummed “I Love Paris,” beneath my breath.

“Why did you agree to come if you’re such a bad flyer?”
Troian asked me.

I opened one eye.  “And miss your big day?  No way.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“No.  You’re only j
ust a meeting with a major studio who’s interested in turning one of your ideas into a television show,” I deadpanned.  “Not a big deal at all.”  Troian’s modesty was seriously baffling sometimes.

Nikole returned from the
airplane bathroom and sat back in her aisle seat.  They’d agreed to let me have the window seat so I didn’t throw up.  It was very admirably, actually.  She gave Troian, who sat in the center of the three-seat aisle, a quick kiss before putting her headphones back on and returning to a movie she’d been watching on her tablet.

Troian’s hungry gaze
on her girlfriend was apparent. 

"Hey
,” I said, garnering her attention.  I snapped my fingers in front of her face.  “No Mile High Clubbing when I'm around, okay?"

My friend swung her head around to glare at me.
"Are you going to cock-block me this entire trip?"

"Maybe," I shrugged. "If I'm not having sex, I don't want anyone else to have any either."

Troian narrowed her eyes at me. “I'm second-guessing inviting you, and we haven't even landed.”

Troian and Nikole had advertised the long weekend as the perfect escape.  My job was to keep Nikole company while Troian was in meetings pitching her ideas.  We were going to go to the beach, drink fruity mixed drinks, and look at girls in bikinis
.  Normally that would have sounded like the ultimate getaway, but I was still too much in my head about Hunter.

After the disaster that was dinner with Hunter’s family, we hadn’t completely cut off ties, and it wasn’t entirely clear if we’d broken up or if we were just going through a rough patch
. Since that night, nearly a week ago, we’d talked a few times on the phone, mostly awkward recountings of how our respective days had been.

I’d been upfront with her about going away
with Troian and Nikole for the long weekend. I didn't want her to worry in case she dropped by my house unannounced.  She’d offered to feed Sylvia while I was gone because she was the only one the cat liked anyway, but I wouldn't let her. It felt too much like taking advantage of her excessive kindness. I was having Emily, my teacher mentor and co-worker, take care of Sylvia instead.

"When’
s your meeting with the production company tomorrow?" I asked.

"Bright and early at 10am."

"Are you going to be able to enjoy tonight or are you going to be an anxious mess?"

"Hey," Troian co
mplained. "I'd like to see you have an important meeting and not go a little crazy about it.  Just wait until your tenure review meeting comes up.”

I’d been trying not to think about that meeting.  In less than a month’s time, my future with the university would be decided.  I would either get a promotion and tenure, or I would be denied tenure and my contract would be terminated.  I turned away and
stared out the small, oval window to enjoy my view of the tops of clouds. Outside, the sun was hot and it warmed me through the thick Plexiglas.  The window was blemished with cloudy water spots; I wondered how often airplanes got washed, if at all.  Maybe they just scheduled the particularly dirty planes to fly through Seattle.

Coming on this trip with Troian and Nikole felt like running away, but I’d reasoned it would at least distract me from the chaos that was my romantic life.  But maybe it felt a little like running away because that’s exactly what I was doing.

+++++

“Hey Bookworm.
” Nikole nudged my knee with her own. “Don’t tell me you brought actual work with you on vacation.”

“Sorry,” I apologized, “but I’ve really got to get this done.” I looked up from my tablet.
"I finally got a publisher for my collection of short stories, so now I’ve got copyediting to do.”

When our plane had landed in Los Angeles the previous night, we’d gone directly to our hotel for an early evening because of Troian’s morning meeting.  Now, Nikole and I sat poolside in a private cabana at our hotel, soaking in the southern California sun that evaded us so effectively in the Midwest.  

Nikole wrinkled her nose. “Sounds thrilling.”

I made
a humming noise of agreement. “I’m just happy I finally got a publisher for this book.  The whole process is ego shattering – one rejection letter after the next.  I really needed a win,” I noted.  “Between that and the Hunter stuff –.”

“Take a drink
.”

I rolled my eyes, but did as she said.  I unscrewed the cap on the vodka bottle that was perched on our deck table and poured myself a shot.  “Want one?” I offered.

Nikole shook her head.  “I’m not the one that broke the rule.”

Troian had surprised me the previous night by pulling a bottle of vodka from her luggage.  She said the alcohol was to prevent me from being miserable on the weekend trip.  The rules were simple: if I mentioned Hunter’s name, I had to do a shot.  The consequences of breaking that rule didn’t make much sense to me though.  I would probably bring up her name in conversation a lot more if I was drunk.  But maybe that was the whole point – to poison my liver and punish me for being such a coward.  At least Nikole couldn’t hear my thoughts; I would be passed out by now if she could.

Nikole
clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.  "I don’t know how you and Troi do it. Writing. Putting yourself out there just to be critiqued. I don't think I could handle being so vulnerable all the time."

"I wouldn't do it if I didn't have to." I slipped my sunglasses back on
so I didn’t have to squint into the sun. "But it's publish or perish for me.  I need this for my promotion."

"Ah
, yes. The highly sought-after security of tenure,” Nikole said, nodding. “Then they can’t fire you for being a pervert."

"Now you sound like Troi
."

Nikole chuckled. "You lack subtlety, Elle. You've been staring at that girl
over there for at least 5 minutes.” She nodded in the direction of a blonde girl in a bikini sitting at the swim-up bar. “And I haven't seen you blink once."

I shrugged.  Maybe I had been staring a little bit. 
"She's cute."