Page 61 of Pity Present
“I’ll do what I can, Blake,” Gillian says, “But your article better knock my socks off.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I tell her. “I know what you want, and I’ll deliver. But you’d better do the same. I want those tickets before you run my piece.”
“I’ll hand them to you personally, as soon as you turn your article in.”
I don’t have what it takes to be civil for another second, so I disconnect the call without even saying goodbye. How did I not see Gillian for the shrewd manipulator that she is?
But then again, I was so excited about getting my dream job that I wasn’t really looking for warning signs. Now here I am, about to get everything I’ve ever wanted and all I need to do is air my dirty laundry for all of Chicago. Not only that, but I need to air Molly’s as well …
Opening my laptop, I start writing.
Here’s the thing about being single that no one wants to talk about: you can’t still be alone without having made a lot of mistakes. To be single means that you have rejected others, you’ve been rejected in return, and you’ve allowed hopes and dreams to build that ultimately hit a wall.
In order to not stay single, you have to open yourself up to risk and be willing to go through all of that again. And that is not easy.
I’ve had two long term relationships in my thirty-two years. With both, I thought I’d won the jackpot. Both ended in ways I did not see coming.
My first adult relationship was when I was twenty-three years old. Finley and I worked in the same coffee shop. She was an aspiring actress looking for her big break and I was an ambitious sports journalist with no idea how to break into the business.
Finley and I worked together for a month before I asked her out. Our relationship was built on shared aspirations. We fed each other’s enthusiasm and consoled each other in times when our greatest desires seemed too far away to reach.
We lived together for two years. I sporadically wrote for various sports websites, and she was cast in the occasionalcommercial. In my mind, we were in the same place in our careers.
I envisioned mutual success, eventual marriage and children, and a life full of everything we ever wanted. We were going to be a dream couple living our best lives.
Then Finley got her big break, when she was cast in a recurring role on a nighttime crime drama.
I couldn’t have been happier for her. For us, really, because I knew her accomplishment meant that I was also on the precipice of triumph. Finley did not see it the same way.
In her eyes, she was a star, and I was a dead weight holding her back from reaching greater heights. And for whatever reason, she didn’t feel it necessary to tell me we were through before she’d already replaced me.
I found out what my new status was when Finley’s show was nominated for an Emmy award. She told me that they only gave her one ticket so I couldn’t go with her. I believed her until her show won. She walked up on stage with the cast to accept their award, then she turned to one of her co-stars and nearly sucked the lips off his face.
I was hurt and humbled in equal measure. I was also gone when she came home that night.
My second relationship ended more amicably, but it was still a shock to my system. You don’t invest time and energy and expect things to just fizzle.
Now, I’m here at a singles’ convention in Wisconsin wondering how this has become my life. I was angry when I got thisassignment because covering events like this is not why I got into journalism. I was even madder when my editor told me she wanted me to write about my personal experience.
Early on, I met a woman that I liked very much but I made the call not to pursue her. Why? Because I was ordered not to tell any of the other participants what I’m really doing here, and I did not want to start something with her based on a lie.
While I want to keep telling the truth and outing Gillian for the manipulating she-devil that she is, I know my boss would have that part edited out. So, I continue writing:
This woman caught me totally and completely off guard. She’s more than just outwardly beautiful, too. She’s perpetually clumsy, she overshares, and she can be as bristly as a startled porcupine. While some people may find those things faults, I find them endearingly attractive.
For years, I have kept the women I’ve dated at arm’s length. Past heartache can do that to you. But when the right person shows up in your life, it’s easy to forget history and jump into possibilities for the future.
I hope I have a future with this lovely lady. Her name is Polly …
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
MOLLY
After breakfast with Kyle, I head toward the great room to chat up some of the lodge’s guests. The first people I approach are a mom and dad with their young son. The boy is bald, so I assume they’re one of the families Heath Fox and Trina are hosting.
“Hi there,” I say. “I don’t want to interrupt, but I was wondering if you might answer a question for me.” I hurry to add, “My name is Molly, and I work for the lodge.”
The father looks up and visibly forces a smile. “I’m Ward.” He gestures toward his wife. “This is Francie and our son, Ben.”
