Yours Truly (Part of Your World #2)

Once I knew we were eating Juicy Lucy’s, I carefully planned when I’d have to leave to get the food to get to her house on time. I Google Mapped it. I didn’t want to show up early in case she wasn’t ready for me. If I did get there early, I planned to wait in my car until it was time—but not in her driveway. Down the street somewhere. If I waited in her driveway, she might see me pull up and then it would stress her out that I was outside, even though I hadn’t knocked—and thinking that I was stressing her out would stress me out.

But in the end, I ended up showing up late because my very last patient vomited all over me.

It pushed my entire plan back by twenty-seven minutes. I was twenty-seven minutes late. This made me flustered, so I was anxious when I pulled up in front of her house, even though I’d texted and told her what happened and she didn’t seem to care that I wasn’t there yet.

When I knocked at almost eight o’clock, my anxiety was at a low hum. But when she opened the door, it quieted down and then disappeared with a blip.

She was in black fleece skull pajama bottoms and a navy shirt that said Everything Is Terrible on it. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun and, as promised, there was no bra.

It was hard to feel anxious when the situation is so informal. And I was starting to realize it was hard to feel anxious around her in general. Most of the time when I did, it was in the lead-up to seeing her, not the actual spending time with her, and it was my own overthinking that got me there.

Speaking of overthinking…

There was something I kept going back to from the other night at my parents’ house. She’d said she really looked forward to our letters. I wondered if she just made that up for the story. Because I had looked forward to those letters. A lot.

I think it mattered to me so much because those were before the news about my kidney. How she felt about the letters wasn’t because of what I was doing for Benny, it was just between us. Unadulterated by gratitude.

There wouldn’t be anything that was untouched by that now. Now I wouldn’t know if anything she was saying or doing was because we were pretending or she was just feeling indebted to me.

I wished I could navigate it better and know what was what.

Had she really liked the letters? If she wasn’t trying to make our relationship look authentic, would I even be here tonight? Would we have talked on the phone like last night? How much bonus time was I getting from her because of our fake dating, because she felt obligated?

I hated that I didn’t know.

“Hey,” she said, pushing the door open to let in me and Lieutenant Dan. I stepped into the entry and she crouched to pet my dog and he bounced on his lone front leg and made puppy noises. He liked her.

I looked around while she was ruffling his head. She hadn’t been kidding about the house. It was…old.

I liked old. My cabin was old. But this wasn’t the nostalgic kind of old that had aged well. This was the kind that was dated and in need of serious renovating. The carpet was brown shag, the ceiling was popcorn. There was a glass coffee table with shiny brass legs. A huge cat tree was in the corner next to a window covered in cheap, bent blinds. The pink floral sofa in the living room had thick plastic on it and a huge glittery framed painting of the Virgin Mary hanging over it.

Briana put her hands on her hips and surveyed the house with me. “Well, here it is.”

“It’s…”

“Don’t lie to me. Actually—yes. Lie to me.”

I laughed a little.

She nodded to the sofa. “Let’s eat. I’ll give you the grand tour later.”

I took off my shoes and she made her way to the sofa. Her pajama bottoms were inside out.

“Your pants are on inside out,” I said, following her.

“I know. The outside was fuzzier. Follow me for more fashion tips.”

I smiled.

I’d settled on wearing my workout clothes—a gray T-shirt and some black Nike training pants.

It took me a day of planning just to decide on it.

She dropped onto the sofa and patted the spot next to her. I sat down and the plastic squeaked under me. I started unbagging the food onto the coffee table and she turned on the TV while Lieutenant Dan nosed around. He started sniffing under the dust ruffle of the sofa and wagging his tail. The cat was probably there.

I eased myself down onto the floor and put my back against the seat cushion.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Trying to meet your cat.”

“Is he under there?”

“I think so.”

I handed her a burger. She grabbed a blanket and pulled it over her lap. Then she crossed her leg under her, and her knee pressed into my shoulder.

I pretended like I didn’t notice it, but I did. I really did.

There was going to be touching now. Obligatory touching, but touching nonetheless. We’d have to in front of my family.

I felt the same way about this that I felt about the rest of it. I liked it, but hated that I didn’t know if she did.

She turned up the volume on the TV. Two actors walked through a parking lot as a building blew up behind them. “That stuff kills me,” she said, setting down the remote and opening her to-go container.

“Total bullshit,” I said.

“They wouldn’t be walking away like that. Blown eardrums at the very least,” she said.

“The shift in pressure would rupture a lung. Soft tissue damage.”

She ate a fry and smiled at me like she liked that I knew this and we could complain about it. I liked it too.

“So I was Googling get-to-know-you games,” she said. “And I think we should play Would You Rather.”

I let out a dry laugh.

“What?” she asked.

“The last game Amy wanted to play was Penis,” I mumbled, tearing the corner of a ketchup packet with my teeth.

“The game where you take turns shouting penis in a public place louder and louder until one of you gives up out of embarrassment? That’s like your number-one idea of hell.”

I nodded. “Yes. Yes, it is. I’m not very fun, unfortunately.”

She scoffed. “You’re fun. That game fucking sucks. What other torture did she subject you to? Did she like to text you ‘We need to talk’ too?”

I paused. “She did, actually.”

Briana rolled her eyes.

“She threw me a surprise birthday party last year,” I said. “She didn’t understand why I was so mortified, since it was just my family and Zander there and she got my favorite cake.” I shook my head. “I don’t like parties. I especially don’t like parties for me, and I definitely don’t like them when I don’t have a chance to mentally prepare for them. It was like my nightmare trifecta.”

Briana bit the tip off a fry. “What the heck was wrong with her? I’ve known you like three weeks and even I know you’d hate that.”

I pinched off a small piece of hamburger and held it under the couch. A moment later a soft mouth took it. “It’s not her fault. She always meant well. She’s just a people person, she likes parties. I was the one who always ruined things.”

I felt Briana studying me and I looked up. “What?”

“You know that it’s not your fault that you don’t like that stuff, right? There’s nothing wrong with you.”

I didn’t know what to say in response to that.

She pivoted to look at me straight on. “Have you ever heard that quote if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it’s stupid?”

“Yeah…”

“Sounds like Amy really likes hanging out in trees.”

I laughed a little.

“I will never judge you for how you climb a tree, Jacob. And you should know that you are an exceptional fish.”

She held my gaze, and I smiled and looked down at my lap. I didn’t know that I needed to hear this. But I did.

I put so much of the blame of what happened between me and Amy on myself, it didn’t even occur to me to look at it another way. And for just a moment, I allowed myself to believe that maybe I really was a fish put in a tree.

“All right,” Briana said, sitting back into the sofa. “Would You Rather. Are you ready?”

I pinched off another piece of burger and held it under the couch. “I’m ready.”

“Would you rather be a reverse centaur or a reverse merman?”

“Like, a man with a horse head or a fish head?”

“That is correct.”

I thought about it. “A centaur. I don’t love the idea of not being able to blink.”

“Or breathe. You’d have to live in the water. Things would be very shrively.”

I chuckled.

“Your turn,” she said, taking an exploratory bite of her burger.

“I need to Google questions. I can’t just think these up on demand,” I said, pulling out my phone.

I scanned a Would You Rather question list. “Okay. Would you rather fight flying monkeys or infinity ants?”

She swallowed. “Flying monkeys,” she said without thinking about it. “The ants won’t ever stop. That was too easy, give me another one.”

I looked again. “Would you rather know the history of everything you touch, or be able to talk to animals?”

She scrunched up her face. “I don’t like either of those. Either way I’m going to be honor bound to solve unsolved mysteries for the rest of my life. But if I had to choose, animals.”

“You don’t like unsolved mysteries?”

“I do, but I don’t want that to be my job. I only solve murder mysteries for fun.”

I gave her an amused look.

“My turn,” she said. “Would you rather name your kid whatever you want, or name your kid after an internet provider in exchange for eighteen years of free Wi-Fi?”

I laughed. “What? Like, Xfinity or something?”

“Yeah.”

“Xfinity isn’t awful,” I said.

“So it’s a yes? You’d do it?”

“How much is this free Wi-Fi I’m getting?”

She bobbed her head. “Well, assuming you’re getting the premium plan for bequeathing them your firstborn—seventy-five, maybe a hundred dollars a month?”

“Over eighteen years that’s probably about twenty thousand dollars in savings. Yeah. I’d do it.”

She gawked at me. “You’d make your kid live their whole life with that name for twenty thousand dollars in savings? I’d pay twenty thousand dollars for my kid not to have that name.”

“What? It’s not like I named her CenturyLink. Xfinity’s a nice name.”

“If you’re a horse in a Disney movie.”

I twisted to look back at her and made my face serious. “There is nothing wrong with Xfinity pulling her weight around here. Childcare is expensive.”

“Wow. It is sad how easily bought you are. At least she’ll be able to Google therapists.”

“We could call her a nickname and she could legally change it once she turns eighteen.”

“What’s her nickname? Password?”

I grinned. “Well, what nickname would you give her?”

“Ava,” she said without even thinking about it.

“Why Ava?”

“Because I like that name. If I ever get a dog, I’m going to name her Ava.”

The cat slid out from under the sofa.

Briana blinked at it. “Well, I’ll be damned…”

Cooter sniffed me. Then sniffed Lieutenant Dan. Then the cat came back around and rubbed his head on my hand and let me pet him. “Hey, there.”

She shook her head. “How did you do that?” she asked, her mouth open. “He’s been hiding for weeks.”

“Move slowly, talk softly, and offer food,” I said, talking to the cat in a low voice.

She grabbed three fries, dipped them in ketchup, and bit the tops off. “I am impressed.”

I looked up at her and smiled, liking that I did something to impress her.

“So what’s your dream date?” she asked, taking another bite of a fry. “What kind of stuff are we doing in our pretend time together?”

I shrugged. “This.”

She looked at me. “Really? You like this? Just hanging out?”

“I love this.”

She nodded. “Me too. It’s so underrated. And hiking and camping.”

“Yes.”

“Nick never wanted to go with me,” she said. “I always had to go alone.”

“I’ll go with you,” I said, a little too quickly and immediately regretting it. She wasn’t asking me to join her.

“Oh my God, I would love that.”

The corners of my lips turned up. “There’s a lot of good trails up by the cabin.”

“All right, it’s a date. Oh! That reminds me. I should probably delete all my dating apps. I don’t want someone seeing me on Bumble or something and think I’m cheating on you.” She pulled out her phone. “You should delete yours too. In case you match with one of the nurses or something.”

“I don’t have any.”

She looked at me over her phone. “Really? None?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Well, where’d you meet Amy?”

“At work. And my girlfriend before that too.”

“Wow. Spared the horrors of online dating,” she said. “Lucky you.”

“I don’t even know what they’re like. I’ve never been on one,” I said.

“Wanna see mine?”

“Sure,” I said, getting back up to sit next to her on the sofa. The cat followed me and jumped up on my lap.

Briana did a few swipes and then handed me her phone, open to her profile.

Her main picture was the one of her at Minnehaha Falls in the gray baseball hat and glasses.

Her info was sparse. Drinks socially, never smokes, no kids and don’t want any. Her bio read:

Looking for something casual. Someone to do fun things with. Must love tacos. And be advised I will be Googling you and I’m very good at it, so don’t bother if you’re not who you say you are. I don’t want anything serious and you’re not going to convert me, so don’t fall in love.

“You don’t want anything serious?” I asked, looking over at her.

“Nope.”

“Now? Or ever?”

“Ever.”

Oh.

Had her divorce been that bad? Amy hurt me too, but I wasn’t ready to give up. I wasn’t ready to date yet, but eventually.

I handed back her phone. “You lied on there.”

“Uh, about what?”

“You said you like tacos. Those are not real tacos you like.”

She made a fake indignant face. “Oh, stop.”

“How’s your stomach? Everything okay?” I asked, grinning at her with my hand on the cat’s back.

“Mind. Your. Business, Jacob. Cat whisperer. I’m taking you to Taco Bell with me one day and I’m gonna eat ten of those and you’re going to be impressed and not at all grossed out.”

I cracked up and she laughed with me.

God, this was easy.

I wondered if she saw how easy it was too. Or maybe for her all her friendships were like this. Mine weren’t. To have this kind of rapport with someone so early on was unusual for me.

Briana made me the best version of myself when I was with her somehow.

She stopped laughing and smiled at Cooter in my lap. “Why did you and your ex break up?” she asked, petting the cat.

I blew out a breath. “It’s hard to explain.”

She waited.

“It’s like…I was a prop.”

“A prop?”

“Yeah. Like she was the main character, and I was her sidekick. It was always about her. What she wanted to do, what she liked. I was there just to be there. And when I finally said something about it, she left.” I laughed a little dryly. “The funny thing is, Jeremiah really is her sidekick. And he likes it. They like all the same stuff and he’s perfectly happy just facilitating whatever it is she wants.”

“Oh, I totally get that. That’s what it’s like with my mom and Gil. He follows after her like a puppy dog. How did your brother and Amy meet?” she asked.

“They work together. They actually knew each other before we met. She’s a pediatrician and he’s a nurse practitioner in the pediatric department at Memorial West.”

“Is that why you left the hospital?”

“That is why I left.” I let out another long breath. “What about you?” I asked. “What happened with you and Nick?”

She pressed her lips together and looked at the cat instead of me. “Well. We were together for twelve years. Married for ten. And he spent two years of that having an affair with a friend of ours. So.”

I peered over at her. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. It was pretty messed up. Kelly and I hung out. She texted me almost every day, which just made the whole thing so much more disgusting. I’m pretty sure the emotional affair went on a lot longer than the physical one. I think he basically wished I was her for most of our marriage.” She laughed a little. “I’ve never said that out loud to anyone else but Alexis. It’s embarrassing.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s just poor taste on his part and poor character on hers.”

She nodded, but she didn’t look at me.

“Anyway. Then he proceeded to fuck me over in every way possible. The house was his from before we got married, and my name wasn’t on it. It was his grandmother’s and he had me sign a prenup for it, so I got nothing there. Half the stuff inside of it was mine. I got awarded that. But they were living there, so it was all tainted and gross and I didn’t want it anymore, so I had to fight him for over a year in court to get a payout for it.”

Her face had gone flat.

“It’s hard to find out that someone you love is fine with just setting your life on fire and walking away.”

I studied her face. “I know what you mean. Amy never even tried. We went to one therapy session. She walked out and that was it. Broke up with me.”

She blinked at me. “The same day?”

I nodded. “Same day. Never looked back.”

“What the hell happened in that therapy session?”

“I was honest about how unhappy I was.”

“And her response to that was to just give up?” She shook her head.

I looked away from her. “I felt betrayed for a really long time,” I said. “And then she started dating Jeremiah and I felt betrayed again. And then they got engaged—and I realized that I had surpassed my ability to be hurt more than I already had been.”

She went quiet for a moment. Then she looked over at me. “You know what I think about? I think about perfect matches. You know how with an organ donation a perfect match isn’t really perfect? There’s still a chance of rejection, even if all the stars align like they did for you and Benny. Nothing is ever perfect. There’s just matches that have a higher chance of working than others. Maybe you guys were like that. It could have worked, but you’d spend your whole life forcing it.”

“Maybe. You’re probably right.” I glanced at her. “What if your perfect match is out there? You’re not going to look?”

She scoffed. “It’s too late. I’m done. I’ve had enough heartache for a lifetime.” I held her gaze, but she turned away from me.

“Anyway. Is it sad that I want Amy to be jealous?” she asked. “Maybe I’m just projecting my own bitterness onto this, but I kind of want her to rue the day she let you go. We need to put out some serious Morticia and Gomez Addams vibes when I meet her. Like we can’t get enough of each other, like we stopped on the way over for a quickie.”

“I think she’s a little beyond caring what I’m doing at this point. But I appreciate your commitment.”

A door closed somewhere in the house. Stairs creaked and Benny came down the hall.

Briana lit up. “Hey, where you going?”

He stopped on the other side of the coffee table. “Justin’s. He got a PlayStation. Hi, I’m Benny,” he said to me with a small wave. “Nice to meet you.”

“Jacob. Nice to meet you.”

He looked better than he did the last time I saw him. He was still frail, but Briana was right, he seemed brighter, more put together.

It was a little strange looking at this person, knowing that in a few months he’d have one of my kidneys in his body. But I didn’t have too much time to ponder this because Briana scooted over and snuggled up next to me.

I couldn’t even breathe.

“We’re just gonna watch a movie or something,” she said, putting a hand on my chest. “Set the alarm if you come home after I’m in bed, okay?”

“’K. Later.” He nodded at us and left.

When he shut the door behind him, Briana tipped her head up to smile at me. “How was that? Was it good?” Her lips were very close to mine.

I cleared my throat. “It was good.”

“Yay!” she said brightly.

Then she moved away from me. “We need to practice touching before the Amy thing. That way we’re not all stiff and weird.”

“Right. Good idea.”

My heart was still pounding. The whole thing flung me into silence. Briana had rendered me mute, yet again.

I pretended I needed to eat my fries all of a sudden and leaned forward to grab them from the coffee table. We ate without talking while we watched TV and my heart rate finally stabilized.

After a few minutes, she finished her burger and put down her to-go container and wiped her hands with a napkin. Then she pulled her legs up to her chin and put her cheek on her knees and peered at me. “You know what these silences make me think of?” she said.

I looked over at her. “What?”

“I always think that when we’re quiet, we’re agreeing to be harmless to each other. That we’re just sharing the same space and letting each other exist exactly as we are, and neither of us would hurt or upset the other one.”

“Harmless to each other?” I looked at her earnestly. “I do agree to that.”

She smiled a little.

“Good. I agree to that too.”