Page 26 of Wild in Minnesota
After awkward goodbyes back in the cabin, consisting of me staying as far from Gabe as possible, I ripped out the door to the safety of Katie’s backseat. As we pulled out of the driveway, I looked back to see everyone getting into cars except for Gabe.
He stood in front of the cabin with his hands in his pockets. A chill ran up my spine as our eyes locked, and my stomach muscles tightened. That was the moment I knew I’d fallen in love with a man who wasn’t available. It was time to check out and regroup.
I watched her drive away and couldn’t wrap my head around what the fuck had gone down. A conversation that made me sound like a lunatic or obsessive loser left her running for the hills with good reason.
Once everybody was gone, I went inside to the place I loved, but it was now a shell of what it was when she was there. There was an instant pull toward Jack Daniels.
Instead, I went to her room and stood in the corner, reliving every detail of her time there. It’d always been a guest room where friends would stay, but it was now Fern’s room. My eyes searched for signs of her.
The way the comforter was pulled up and the pillows placed leaning against one another in a decorative way. A little bottle of lotion left on the nightstand. When I opened it, my mind raced back to rolling around with her and the faint smell of flower blossoms on her neck.
Of course, I slathered it on my hands and then smelled them constantly like a complete freak. I pulled open the closet door, and the wind was knocked out of me. The empty closet was alive as the stunning burgundy dress looked back at me. She left the dress behind along with the promise.
Every bit of energy drained from me as I plopped on the bed and rested my head on her pillow. When I turned, there was the faint aroma of her coconut shampoo, bringing hot water to my eyes that I quickly wiped away.
I don’t do the liquid from my eye thing, but looking at the perfect dress that was worn by the perfect woman was killing me from the inside out.
The woman I’d scared away with my past. The freedom I finally felt had been yanked from me.
Dear life, whatever bastard. Whatever.
The further we drove from the cabin the deeper my mood sunk. I was pissed.
Katie looked into the backseat with her larger than life smile. “I’m helping a friend think of a new business to get up and going. Do you have any ideas?”
“Do I have ideas?” I let out a huff. “I think the world is too cheery, Katie. Yeah, maybe it needs to be brought down a notch. How about a coffee shop called Screw You Mornings . Yeah, they could make all sorts of delightful drinks with cute names like It’s too early for this shit with an extra shot of fuck you. ”
Her eyes grew wide which seemed to spur me on. “Or he’ll never love you, ya stupid bitch with a pump of dumbass , or maybe something like?—”
She nodded and cleared her throat, “Well, that is definitely an idea.”
I leaned my head back, knowing I was half way to the silent ride I wanted. “We could do some top notch brainstorming if you’d like. We have an hour.” I flashed my toothiest smile.
Her eyes shot around the backseat. “You know, I think I’m just going to check my emails. But thanks for the creative ideas.”
When we finally pulled up to my parents’ house, I grabbed my suitcase, waved them goodbye, and wished there was a way into the house that would allow me to sneak past my mom.
She had weird witchy senses and could always feel when something was wrong with me.
Let’s face it. I deserved a medal for making it through today without stabbing someone in the neck with a fork.
I snuck in the front door, hoping to get upstairs without being noticed.
“Boo!”
I nearly jumped out of my skin when my mother sprung from the coat closet. She loved to get a jump scare out of anyone she could. That would likely be what eventually takes my father out.
I looked at my Italian mother and sighed. She was five-foot-three on a good day with her hair styled in a chin-length bob as it had been as long as I could remember. I looked into the blue eyes she gave me and shook my head.
It was then her mouth dropped open. “What in the hell happened to you? Bruises and cuts on my baby!” She leaped forward and took my face in her hands.
Her eyes were filled with concern, but after a second, they switched to who do I need to kill ?
“Oh, I’m calling Dave. Get my gun and shovel. Somebody might die today!”
“Mom, you can’t kill?—”
“The hell I can’t. I’m a woman who has been washing bloodstains out of my clothing for decades. I can sure as hell get away with murder.”
I pulled my face from her grasp and held her hands. “Nobody did anything, Mom. Calm down. I hit a piece of ice, and the car went over a tiny little cliff?—”
She yanked me to her and buried her face in my shoulder while her Italian tongue flew. “Oh buon Dio, sto avendo un infarto!”
“You’re not having a heart attack, Mother. I’m fine.” I peeled her off me. “But Dad’s car is jacked up.”
She placed both hands over her heart. “I don’t give a tiny rat’s ass about the car!” She looked up to the heavens. “Grazier Dio per aver risparmiato mia figlia!”
Translation: Thank you God for sparing my daughter . Yes, she’s a tad bit over the top.
Her head shook. “If you had died, I would’ve crawled right in that casket and gone with you, I could never live without you.” She inhaled deeply through her nose. Her eyes were freaking me out a little.
“That’s an odd pressure you’re laying on me, Mom.”
My mother took my hand and led me upstairs to my childhood room that hadn’t changed in a decade. White desk and dresser, lavender walls with a cozy bed covered by a purple and white floral comforter.
I plopped down on the bed, and she sat next to me just as Madam Fluffypants, the family cat, hopped up beside me. I side-eyed my mom who shook her head.
“She loves it, Fern.”
My eyeballs moseyed back to the white fluffy cat who was wearing a blue and yellow crocheted sweater dress.
Yes, Mama Novotny has taken up crocheting, and the family cat, who seemed to have lost her mojo since I’d been away, was her victim.
Poor cat was dressed in humiliating crocheted outfits and then shoved into a cat backpack with a window any time they left the house.
My mother took my chin in her hand. “You escaped the clutches of death, Fern Ethel.” She wiped a piece of hair from my face. “You were spared.”
I wanted to tell her to shut up, but instead I sat there fighting the burning at the back of my eyes.
While I’d done my best to not think of the car on ice situation, it was still there.
The accident, sitting trapped in the freezing car believing that might be the end and realizing what having no way out felt like, ran through my brain like burning lava.
Once she pulled me into her, I let it go. Tears for the unfairness of it all. Tears for the physical pain of missing Gabe. Tears for the heart I was almost certain would never be whole again.
Seeing Gabe’s face outside the car window that day. The look in his eyes as he calmed me down was now a memory I was trying to erase.
So many things had happened, and my mind and emotions were drowning in all of them. I was raw.
I’d made the biggest mistake when instead of running from him and the weekend pass, I jumped in headfirst and fell for an unavailable man.
The perfect unavailable man. The man who was into me because of similarities with the true love of his life—his wife—who was gone forever.
Now who in the hell saw that one coming?
I’ve been known for making bad decisions with men. One after another really. I would say I’m naive, but once past the age of twenty-five, it’s just called being stupid, and it happens again and again.
My last relationship ended nearly a year ago when, after falling in love with a doctor I worked with and dating for four months, I was blindsided to find out he was married.
Married . I had unknowingly been the other woman .
WTH right? He had kept the whole marriage thing from everyone at work by saying he was divorced.
Looking back, there were a bazillion red flags, but the love-struck idiot I was didn’t catch a one of them.
This was me. I attracted men who aren’t available. Every time. This confirms it once and for all. Stress and heartbreak are caused by giving a fuck.
New mantra:
I do not give
One fuck
Two fucks
Red fucks
Blue fucks