“There will be no working,” I said and then pretended to wash my hands clean of the situation. “It’s over. I’m ready to move on.”
Both of them looked at me puzzled, and then laughed uncontrollably like a bunch of crazy hyenas.
“What?” I asked over their annoying laughter. I didn’t like to be laughed at.
“You. You thinking that. This situation is far from over,” London said.
Oliver did a few deep breathing exercises as if he were in a birthing class, and London held his hands to calm him through it.
All to stop his laughing.
How were these people my best friends?
“Honey, it’s just getting started. You know, Easton. He won’t let up until he has what he wants,” Oliver said through a shaking tenor from laughing so damn hard.
It wasn’t that funny. Heck, it wasn’t funny at all.
“And what does he want? My forgiveness? I’m pretty sure I gave him that today.” At least, I thought I did. Maybe I didn’t, but everything was pretty ‘let’s move on’ so forgiveness was just bundled up in the entire package.
“You, Luna. He wants you.”
I shook my head and guzzled my drink. “No, he doesn’t. He made that clear when—”
“He was a fifteen-year-old dipshit? Come on; he’s a man now. He might not be that guy.”
“It doesn’t matter because, to me, he will always be that guy, London.”
“Well, maybe that’s what he wants to prove to you. Maybe he wants to prove that he isn’t that guy,” Oliver said.
“I brought ham sandwiches!” my dad sang from the stairs, interrupting our little group get together.
“Oh, you make the best sandwiches, Mr. N. You put the right amount of mayonnaise and mustard on it. It’s a talent, really,” Oliver said, snagging a sandwich right off the top of the platter.
“It’s the bread. Tessa makes the best homemade bread; it’s soft and fluffy. God, she’s just perfect. Isn’t she?” My dad had hearts in his eyes as he talked about mom, biting into the sandwich and chewed absent-mindedly as he daydreamed about his wife.
It was sickeningly cute how in love they were after so many years of being together.
I wanted that.
But with someone else. Not Easton.
“Maybe it’s time for me to hit the dating scene,” I said, biting into the sandwich dad made, and the ham, lettuce, and pickle burst across my tongue perfectly making me groan. It wasn’t deli ham; it was real ham. Mom refused to have that ‘processed shit’ as she called it and only bought the ham that people made during Thanksgiving.
It made the difference. Trust me on that.
“Well, you need to make a list because you’re redoing your room, you want to hunt a spot for the shop you want to open, and now you want to date. Star, there isn’t enough time for all that. So, why not just cross the dating off your list. You know?” Dad waved his half-eaten sandwich through the air as he spoke with animation. “Men suck. They are a waste of time.”
“Preach, Papa N. Preach!” Oliver lifted his name in praise as if dad were really preaching god’s word.
“Well, you don’t suck, dad. You’re pretty perfect.”
“Doesn’t mean I didn’t use to. Didn’t your mom ever tell you how we met?”
“No,” I said and wished I had a seat to get comfortable to listen to this story, but the living room was packed with my belongings. “Tell me, tell me!”
“1973. A drive-in movie theater. The Exorcist played. Everyone was on their way to see it. Your mom was on a date with another guy. I was there with a few of my friends. We were a bunch of rowdy assholes that kept throwing popcorn on the screen. We made hand puppets too that ruined the movie, and your mom, the firecracker that she is, stomped right up to me and said, ‘You better stop that. You’re acting like a bunch of no good heathens. You’re ruining the movie for other people, and that’s just rude.’ My dad’s voice hitched higher to portray mom, and it made us all laugh. “I was completely in love with her in that moment. She was so damn pretty. Her hair was down and long; she wore bell bottoms and a crop top. She was a stunner, but she wasn’t there with me. So I wrapped my arm around her, pulled her to me, and kissed her.”
“You didn’t!” London said.