“God, you are seriously depressing, Callie,” Willow said. “I’m totally planning on getting laid this weekend.”
“No surprise there,” I said. Willow was the most experienced of the three of us, and I fully expected she would find someone to hook up with.
“Oh, screw you, Callie,” Willow said. “This is supposed to be a fun getaway, not a break-up bitchfest. Oh, and you guys,” she said, her voice lowering. “That’s the guy.”
Willow pointed discreetly at a guy who did look like Kyle, but he was so not my type. Not that I knew what my type was anymore. Blaine had been a stereotypical band boy, playing guitar, notorious for driving a beer truck and forgetting his wallet.
Thanks for nothing, I’d thought when he broke up with me. I was the one who’d washed his clothes, made him dinner, and filled his gas tank when it hit E.
The Kyle look-alike was with three other guys. They could have been mistaken for cover models for an outdoor magazine, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they had real jobs that afforded their laid-back look. Annoyed with my judgmental thoughts, I looked over at Willow and Courtney, wishing I could chill out like them. I was tired of being the type-A drag.
“They’re all so hot,” Courtney said.
“We should go talk to them,” Willow said daringly.
“Yeah, right,” I said, using disinterest as a coping mechanism. I didn’t want to be rejected for the second time in a week. But, stealing a glance at the guys, I realized my friends were right about one thing: they were all super-hot. “I’m not interested, and Courtney would never make a move.”
“Fine,” Willow said, deflated, as the guys walked out of the lobby.
I instantly regretted my snappy comments, and determined to be a better friend to her tonight.
One guy stopped on his way out and turned to look my way. I smiled, but pretended not to notice. He took off his beanie, revealing close-cropped blond hair. He was much more athletic than guitar-playing Blaine had ever been. Now he gave me a full-on smile and I quickly turned my head, keeping up my charade of disinterest.
The one I was tired of. The one that put me in a box so restricting I couldn’t breathe.
“Anyone ready to get to our cabin?” Willow asked.
Courtney said yes and jumped for the keys, and I couldn’t have agreed more. I was ready to drop my bags and get in comfy clothes.
And maybe I was being a bit over the top in judging Court’s afternoon drink—because at this moment, all I wanted was to get buzzed and forget all the responsibilities I’d put on myself.
I was ready to stop being everyone’s mother, and start being my own woman.Chapter NineThe three of us claimed beds in the studio cabin and dropped our bags on them. The cabin was cozy and quaint, and I eyed the tub in the bathroom, knowing it had my name on it for later tonight. Willow began a fire in the wood-burning stove, and the chilly evening air dissipated quickly as the crackling flames radiated heat. I took off my cardigan and opened a bottle of Merlot.
Pouring glasses, I held mine up to offer a toast, wanting to apologize for my bitchiness.
“To Willow, for making this weekend away happen,” I said. “I know my attitude has been less than stellar, and I just wanted to thank you both for loving me despite that.”
We clinked glasses and I took a long drink, the rich wine warming my throat.
“That’s sweet, Callie, but we get it,” Willow said, and Courtney nodded in agreement. They were being way too generous with me. What I really needed was to be put in my place.
Settling in quickly, we began chopping romaine for salad and warming a baguette.
By the time we finished our Caesar salad, we had drunk two bottles of wine, and I decided what the hell and uncorked a third. I began refilling our glasses, but Courtney surprised me by announcing that she was headed off to the soaking tubs, alone.
“Which should I wear?” she asked. “My one-piece or the bikini?”
“The bikini for sure,” I said, eyeing her curves. “You’re in the best shape of your life.”
“You know the sauna and soaking tubs are clothing optional, don’t you?” Willow said.
I had totally forgotten, not that I planned on spending much time there. I wasn’t really interested in a naked hot tub; I’d had enough of those in college. I wanted something a bit more grown-up when I took off my clothes.
Courtney took off pretty quickly, leaving a near-drunk Willow in her wake.
I began clearing the table and putting away leftovers as Willow watched.
“I’m not mad that you think my barista job is a dead end,” she told me. Apparently the booze had made her reflective. “Because, honestly, I just feel stuck. Like, there are so many choices and I don’t want to put myself in some box by choosing a lifetime career at twenty-two.”