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The condom is no big deal.
Right?
Right?
—
I'm sitting at the receptionist desk, working on the bank reconciliation for Kyle, trying to ignore the condom thing from this morning.
I'm determined to focus on work, but my thoughts keep wandering...
Stop it, Jenny!
Get a grip, geez.
I refocus on the task at hand. Kyle hates this part of the business, all the data entry and numbers and making sure things line up. Double-checking your work and balancing what the bank claims he has (which is a freaking lot), and what QuickBooks says he has (which is also a freaking lot).
Turns out Boulder loves the Gallery and the coffee shop. They're showing their appreciation in dollars and repeat business. It doesn't seem to be slowing down.
I decide I need a break and grab my phone, click on Matt's name. I haven't talked to him since Halloween. Not even when Kyle and I stopped by the hospital to see Audra before heading home. She's on bedrest still, her blood pressure under control for now.
It's been almost four weeks. That's the longest I've ever gone without speaking to Matt.
I want to talk to him, to see how he’s doing, how he’s coping with everything going on.
But I don’t.
Because I made my choice. I chose Kyle.
And the truth is, I don’t think I can have them both.
But I try not to think about that. What it means. How I really feel about letting my best friend go. It's just easier to pretend there isn't this small chunk of my heart that feels like it's missing. Lost. Misplaced. Gone.
Besides, I don’t want to interfere. Matt has Audra. And they have a baby that will be here soon. The last thing Matt needs is me around, complicating his life by telling him what I think he should do. Or shouldn’t do.
It’s just, I miss him. I miss playing basketball on Saturdays. And eating lunch together. And those stupid memes he sends in the group text that I unblocked. He hasn’t sent any since I told him he sends too many. Why did I do that?
The silence on his end is deafening and I guess it’s probably for the best.
Time to move on, Jenny.
I reluctantly set my phone down, pay a few bills online, create an invoice, and then file paperwork for Kelsey.
Chantal walks in just as the mid-afternoon sun peeks through the cottony clouds intermittently passing overhead. Her dark hair is pulled into a tight bun on top of her head, her high cheekbones on full display, her creamy cashmere sweater complimenting her gorgeous skin. She smiles as she stands in front of me.
"Are you still free for lunch today?" she asks
"Of course," I tell her, eager to get out of this place and stop thinking about, well, everything I've been thinking about. "I'm going to let Kelsey know I'm heading out."
After I hand my work over to Kelsey since Kyle's in class, I grab my jacket and purse and, with my new friend in tow, step out into the cold, autumn breeze.
Chantal and I grab a table at the local sports bar down the street from the Gallery. They have the best cheeseburgers around here. They're not as good as Bruce's, but pretty close.
"Did you grow up in Colorado?" I ask Chantal as I twist a tendril of blond around my finger, nervous I won't have anything witty or interesting to say to her. I really want her to like me. She's smart and successful and sophisticated, all the things I want to be.
She nods as she sets the menu down. "I grew up in Colorado Springs. I go home as often as I can to visit my dad and grandmother."
The waiter appears, takes our drink order before disappearing.
