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Rosie: Are you counting the family group text, or did you two actually talk to each other?
Mark: A group message is still talking.
Rosie: Really? You’re going with that?
Before I can respond, another text comes in.
Rosie: TALK TO JONATHAN
I know a lot of my lack of relationship with Jonathan is my fault. I didn’t know how to deal with all the pressures of being the man of the house. Even before Dad left, I always felt that need to shield Jonathan from what was going on. I didn’t want him thinking that any of what was going on between our parents was his fault. He was only six. As we got older I felt that undeniable need to be at everything since Dad never would. I would go out of my way to protect my little brother from anything and everything I could, but we didn’t talk. Not about the divorce, not about life. Nothing.
After the divorce was final, we moved in with the Jacobsons. It was helpful for my mom, but now that I’m older, I wonder if it was the final straw that broke what little relationship Jonathan and I had. It was easier for me to talk with Ben and Danny and for him to talk to Millie. It just felt more natural. Once we moved into our own place, the damage was done. We had five years of having others to talk to. We were more set in our ways. I always just assumed we would figure it out someday. Someday we would have more in common. Someday we would be as close as the Jacobsons are with each other.
Someday still hasn’t happened. When it came time for college, I all but ran away from Ridgeview, hardly going home even on breaks. It’s not like I don’t love my brother, I do. I just don’t know how to show it. I’m not exactly good at talking about my feelings. I’m so proud of all that he has accomplished; I’ve just never told him so to his face. I’ve told Mom and Rosie, which is basically like telling him.
“Well, someone is a Grumpy Gus this morning!” says Nancy.
She runs the front desk and has been more than welcoming to the newcomer. After working for such a large firm in Charleston, this small office is going to be an adjustment. I have a feeling Nancy is all about knowing the ins and outs of everyone’s lives. I’m not sure how I feel about that. If I learned anything from my last breakup, it’s that it makes life so much easier to keep work and home separate.
Natasha was everything I could have wanted. Not only was she gorgeous, but also wicked smart with a work ethic that rivaled my own. We met shortly after she started at Bancroft and Watson as a paralegal. After working on a few cases together, we started having lunch together which soon turned into dinner. Then we were basically living together. If it would have been up to Nat, we would have been; it was one of our biggest arguments. Call me old-fashioned all you want, but the only woman I will ever live with is my wife.
The beginning of the end of our relationship happened when I brought Natasha with me to Ben’s wedding. To say it went badly is an understatement. Natasha and I had been growing more and more distant, and we were fighting more and more. We were always working. I had hoped that coming home to Ridgeview would get us back to how it was before work took over our lives. Before Natasha had become so hyper-focused on me making partner. She wanted us to be some sort of power couple. I just wanted to be proud of my work. If I’m going to dedicate my life to something, I want it to mean something. I don’t need nor do I want all the recognition.
Over the week we were in Ridgeview, it became more and more evident that not only had we grown apart, but we also no longer wanted the same things. Maybe we never did. Natasha bailed on all of Ben’s wedding related activities and didn’t even make it to the wedding. It didn’t matter how important it was to me that she be there, work always came first. I would always come second to work. It was my parents all over again.
By the time the plane landed back in Charleston from Ben’s wedding, the relationship was over, but the drama of it all was just beginning. Monday morning came, and by lunch the entire office knew we had broken up. I could feel eyes on me everywhere I went. I would go into meetings, and whispering would follow me. Natasha did everything in her power to throw any kind of dig my way, including starting to date my office rival, Rick, just to prove that she could. I kept my head down and did my job. Natasha finally saw that I wasn’t going to let her get a rise out of me and backed off.
Six months ago, when it came time for them to announce the new partner, it was between me and Rick. Against my better judgment, I went to dinner with my dad who was in town a few days prior to the official announcement and something in the way he told me not to worry about the promotion, that it was as good as mine, made me pause. He had gotten me the promotion. He was still interfering in my life, despite how much I had told him that I didn’t want him to do anything. I still hadn’t forgiven him for going behind my back and talking with Mr. Watson after my initial interview. Nothing I had worked for and thought I had earned was really mine. It was all a lie.
I got home from dinner and sent my resignation letter. Rick could have Natasha and the promotion. He could have all of Charleston for all I cared. I was done with it all, including my father. I spent the next few weeks deciding my next move. I didn’t talk to anyone other than Todd. I didn’t answer texts, phone calls, or emails. I was a complete nomad. By the time I told my mom that I was moving back, I had already been back to California a few times. Once to take the California bar, once for my final interview with Miles Lexington, and once to sign all the closing paperwork on my new place. I didn’t see a reason for her to get her hopes up if things didn’t work out.
The feeling of eyes watching me pulls me out of my thoughts. I look up at Nancy, still focused on me.
“I’m not grumpy,” I say far dryer than I intended. “I just got done talking to my sister,” I add hoping it makes my tone sound lighter.
If she is bothered by my tone, she doesn’t show it. “Older or younger? My older sister used to give me such a hard time! I always had to remind her she wasn’t my mother, and we already had one of those.”
“Younger. I’m the oldest.”
“Just the two of you or are there more?”
“We have a brother that’s in the middle.”
“Are you close?”
“To my sister. My brother and I are pretty hit and miss.” That’s the polite way to describe it, at least to a mere stranger.
“You’re from around here, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am. Born and raised. Went out of state for college and law school. I’ve visited over the years, but it’s actually been a good two since I’ve been back at all.” That is probably way more information than she was looking for. It was definitely more information that I was intending to give.
“Are the rest of your family still here?”
“My mom is. My brother is a high school choir and theater teacher at our alma mater, and my sister is in fashion school a couple hours away.”
“Well, I’m sure your mama is happy to have you home again.” She gives me a soft smile and turns to go, but turns back around to add, “I’ll be at my desk; let me know if you need anything, Sugar.”
“Thank you, Nancy,” I say with the first genuine smile I’ve had in days. Nancy was right about one thing; I am a little grumpy today. I don’t mean to be. I’ve just been under this dark cloud for what feels like months. Maybe a little caffeine boost will help shake me out of my lull.
