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"No no no. It's wonderful. It's everything I thought it would be, except for the drama. And the supreme hunk."
Gemma squeals, changing gears completely, “Stop it! You met someone? There's a hot single guy at the retreat with you?"
"Yes and no."
After a long pause she demands, “Tell me everything!”
"I don't have long to talk. His mother could come out at any minute."
She asks, "A guy went on a retreat with his mother?" obviously weirded out, "How old is he?"
Thinking it funny the track her mind is going on, I decide to run with it. "He's in his thirties. And she's beautiful."
“Ew. Is this some kind of Oedipus thing?"
"Could be."
"Stay away from him!"
I laugh, "I'm kidding!"
Doubtful, she asks, “Which part?"
"His mother owns the business. Well, co-owns it. And I just learned that he lives next-door on his own farm, because someone else asked. There is no Oedipal thing. I was just messing with you.”
“You're disgusting."
"I'm hilarious is what I am. No, but seriously, he's absolutely gorgeous. However he has a major flaw. He's married."
Huge pause. “Then I keep my earlier command in tact! Stay away from him!"
As the words, "It's complicated,” fall from my lips, I immediately feel how stereotypical they sound, the words of every woman who ever fell for a married man.
“Stay away!”
“I’m keeping my little crush at bay but it is really difficult. Here's why." I whisper to her what happened with Shelby, all the big and tiny details, while repeatedly checking over my shoulder to make sure I remain alone. The part about my photo, I keep quiet. I haven't told her yet that I even bought my expensive DSLR camera, because I don't know how she will take it.
Gemma has always thought so highly of my job. I make pretty good money, and I've been able to save some, unlike her, she often tells me. Gemma is a singer but she hasn't found her way into making a living at it yet, so she's been waiting tables for far longer than she hoped to. My revealing a secret desire to become an actual photographer, to pursue a creative art — which are notoriously unstable — might not be well received. And like I told Ben, my lawn hasn’t become strong yet. Have to keep my tiny blade of grass safe, even from her. Just in case. The only reason I showed my photograph to Ben today was he looked so sad. I was hoping it would make him feel better, to see nature’s beauty, and ended up receiving much more than I anticipated. I decide instead to share with her a small part of that story, keeping it vague. “We had a moment outside, before I came in for lunch, where it felt like…he got me. It was just the two of us and I don't know, something kind of happened.” Feeling slightly guilty for keeping all of the details to myself, I admit a very true, “It's hard to explain."
There is silence on the other end of the line until, "This is an extraordinary situation, Willow, because you've actually had a chance to witness their dynamic. It’s not like he told you they don’t get along, and you never meet her so you have to just take a married guy’s word for it, right? You saw two battles with your own eyes! And trust me, I get why you thought it might be foreplay, at first, but the second time cancelled that out. Pretty clearly!” She laughs, then flattens me with, “You need to ask his Mom what's going on."
“No way,” I balk, “I’m not interfering like that! Besides, I already tried to…until Shelby interrupted us. I didn't get a chance to talk to Rachel afterward and find out more. But to ask out of the blue? Now that it’s over? In the moment would have been one thing. But now? No way. Too awkward. It's really just not my place."
“If you're trying to make it your place, then you're gonna have to start somewhere."
I sigh, “What does it matter? He lives all the way out here and I’m in California."
"True. Yeah, you should probably just drop it. I am intrigued, but logistically it's not very likely that this could work out."
My stomach turns over, the discouraging words having an impact I don't want to feel. She's right, is the problem. Sometimes when you hear your concerns coming from somebody else's mouth, it cements them. This is one of those times. "I won't have any trouble staying away from him. He wouldn't even join us for lunch because of the trouble he caused. Oh! I didn't mention it but we're all getting a refund.”
“What?!”
“I know. I feel kind of shitty about it, actually. All of these meals and classes are on the schedule, the paint supplies, who knows what else? It's gotta be expensive for them! They’re just really concerned about their reputation. Reviews are crucial.”
Behind me, Laura comes out of the room and I know she won't mind overhearing me quietly say, “It wasn't how you wanna start a first night."
Laura nods and mouths, “Bathroom,” pointing as she walks in that direction.
