Page 11 of Chalk It Up

Time for you to come over.

Thea

Am I on your leash? Just coming over at your beck and call?

Evie

Obviously, but no. I have snacks and cocoa.

Thea

Be there in ten.

I can always count on Thea. She is my absolute sunshine and always ready to drop anything and everything whenever I need her, and vice versa. By telling Thea I have snacks and cocoa, what I’m actually saying is that today is attempting to send me into a panic attack and I need to watch Bridesmaids, drink cocoa and eat my weight in puppy chow.

Thea shows up ten minutes later on the dot, with matching cocoa mugs from our favorite book series, puppy chow because she knows me so well, and two fluffy snuggies because she knows we must be bundling in for the night if I called her over at the last minute. My gorgeous best friend is greeted happily by my fur best friend, and I’m already feeling eons better than I was when I texted her. I think Thea is made up of serotonin and it wafts off of her everywhere she goes. Oh my adorable little freckly, red-headed bubble of joy.

Feeling the tightness in my chest loosen a little, I close the door behind her and Maple’s happy reunion. I take everything out of her hands so she can snuggle with her true best friend who licks up and down her face. I set everything on the counter and start prepping the hot cocoa as Thea comes to join me, sitting at my small kitchen bar.

My cottage may be small, but it's a dream straight out of a storybook and is more than anything I could ever need. But anytime I have a guest over, I remember just how small this place really is. My landlord does such a great job keeping up with the aesthetic that I never have to worry about updating a thing. A company comes out about every few years to update the kitchen and bathroom. Right now my cabinets are a gorgeous pine green, with light wooden knobs placed at the corners of each door, complimenting the butcher block countertops throughout. I am obsessed.

I dump the puppy chow into a bowl and pass it over to Thea while she waits eagerly to hear why I’ve rushed her over at the last minute. I really can be needy, but Thea loves to help, so we work perfectly together.

“I won’t push, but I know when it’s a last minute text it’s usually a big deal. So we can hang out and watch a movie and get cocoa-comfy in silence, or you can dish. I’m here for either.” I could kiss her for how wonderful she is. She always meets me where I am. I suppose she deserves something to walk away with since she came over.

We bring the snacks, cocoa, and snuggies into the living room and get situated before I take a deep, and thoroughly therapeutic breath, and start to confide in my best friend. “Thea, it’s about August.” I start.

“Ohhhh, boy talk, my favorite. And my sort-of boss? Even better.” she winks and nudges my arm to continue.

I shove her back playfully. “No, not boy talk. Well... maybe boy talk.” I start, having no idea where to go from here because truthfully, I’m not sure what is causing this anxiety of mine.

My brain is telling me there are a thousand gnats of problems flying around but when I try to grab one and think I’ve caught it, I open my hand to nothing there. Thea is so level-headed, organized, positive, and concise. I wish she could just jump into my head and tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it. I hate that I have to take extra steps to be able to explain something that others seem to be able to express so easily.

Whenever I get this overwhelmed, I usually shut down by taking a nap and hope that when I wake up, the problems will be gone. Thea deserves someone who tries. I deserve someone who tries. So that’s what I do and with my fluffy movie on in the background I start from the beginning. I tell Thea about the conference and tension, how I haven’t stopped thinking about him since I officially met him at the open house, the lunch and rudeness, the Christmas production set and how we have to work on it together, and lastly, the extremely insane interaction in the grocery store parking lot.

Thea’s enthusiasm is crystal clear and I can tell she’s not going to say anything I want to hear.

“Mija, are you absolutely kidding me right now?” I know Thea is serious when she starts throwing Spanglish around. Thea is half Mexican and half white. I know that being multicultural in a small town has been difficult for her, but she never lets it dull her vibrancy. “I don’t see the problem you’re having, loca.”

I throw my head back on the couch in only slight exasperation. Of course she doesn’t. But I know she’ll eventually try to see my side. “The way I see it, you have an attractive, single dad who’s an amazing cook, gives you lunch, and who you will be forced to spend time with, and he defends your honor. What exactly is the issue?”

I internally scratch my head because when Thea breaks it down like that, I can’t exactly remember what I was stressing out about. It must be so nice to have the superpower of being able to compartmentalize things so simply. I take a long sip of my hot cocoa to stall while I think of a response. All of those are really valid points, but August is always so rude even though I can tell it’s some kind of defense mechanism. But besides being rude, he just so happens to be the parent of one of my students. That alone is enough fuel for small town gossip, and I prefer to keep my reputation and job intact, as much as I can for being a divorcee. Then I look at the scar on my hand and remember that for all of August’s, or any man’s redeeming qualities, I’m too broken.

Thea watches as I remind myself why I can’t be with anyone. Why I’ve been trained to know I’ll fail someone even if I have the best of intentions. Or, at least I’m just programmed to think that way even though there’s a small voice in my head that tells me none of that is true. I wish that voice were a little louder sometimes. Thea holds my scarred hand and my heart, as I rest my head on her shoulder in companionable silence while bright pink dresses move across the TV screen.

“You are more than Dustin trained you to be. I know that me knowing that isn’t nearly as important as you knowing that. I can tell you until I’m blue in the face that you are so valuable, intelligent, creative, and selfless, but I know I can’t undo what someone did in manipulation but called it love.” Thea consoles me while playing with my hair. Maple, being the ever sensitive pup she is, comes to sit on my lap.

Why am I such a basket case? No Evie, it is okay to feel this way. You are in a safe place to feel this way. You are not a burden. Whenever I start to feel this way, Dustin’s words race through my mind and it’s so hard to shut them down “Why are you being so dramatic? Evie, can you stop being a cry baby? Aren’t you a grown woman? Act like one. I’ll come back when you decide to stop acting like such a little victim.”

My heart palpitates and somehow Thea knows. She starts taking deep breaths for me to mimic. She is the most incredible best friend a girl could ask for. “I love you, Thea. Thank you for tolerating me.”

“Girl, it is not even toleration. I love being here for you, for the good and the bad.” she continues. “So, what are we going to do about the attractive daddy in the classroom?” I just laugh at Thea because what else is there to do? I care about my reputation infinitely more than making myself vulnerable again so there isn’t much, if anything, to do about this situation. Now if only I could get myself to believe that and stop thinking about August Von.

chapter 8

Evie

“You gave my daughter a speaking part in the Christmas program? You don’t think that’s maybe a little misguided, given her dyslexia?” August rushes into my classroom midday, less than thrilled. I flinch back from where I’m standing at my electronic board in the front of my class. So, I guess he got the program email I sent out this morning with everyone’s roles and responsibilities. Dustin wasn’t nearly as tall as August, nor was he as bulky, but I know better than to upset a man. I know what happens. For a few moments, I stay silent and let his frustration hang in the air. If I speak, I will be hit. No Evie, you won't. This is your classroom and August is not Dustin. I wish my fight, flight, or fawn would figure out that not every man is him.