California Girls. Susan MalleryЧитать онлайн книгу.
while they were on the subject, she wasn’t totally sure how long she would be holding things together. She was fine now but at some point the pain was going to slap her upside the head again and then she would be sobbing and blubbering like a fool, all over a man who hadn’t had the balls to dump her face-to-face.
“I do have plans,” he said, putting down the knife. “First, I’m going to make you breakfast. Then we’re going to get you a new phone.”
She glanced at the little bag filled with phone bits. “Probably a necessary thing. Mine now has a Humpty Dumpty–like quality and I have no king’s horses or men.”
He flashed her a grin. “You’re feeling better.”
“It was the ginseng.”
“Or the prickly pear.”
She grimaced. “Let’s not talk about that.”
“Not a problem. After we get you a new phone I thought we’d come up with a game plan.”
“For what?”
“Canceling the wedding.”
Her mouth dropped open. Well, crap. She had to cancel the wedding. As in undo all that had been done. There were venues and food and...
“I just mailed out the invitations,” she said.
“I got mine Thursday.”
“We already have gifts from the save-the-date cards. I have to tell everyone. That’s nice.” She poured herself coffee. “Hey, world, Glen changed his mind and no longer wants to marry me. Sorry there won’t be a party.”
Daniel finished cracking the egg he held, then wiped his hands on a towel and walked over to stand next to her. He put his large, manly hands on her shoulders and stared into her eyes.
“My brother is a jerk and a fool. He’s making a mistake, but I hope that by the time he figures that out, you are so over him, you can only laugh at his patheticness. You are sweet and pretty and funny and kind and he never deserved you.”
She knew he was just being nice, but still. Wow. The words, the intense gaze, the closeness.
“You’re really good at the whole consoling thing,” she told him. “You should consider it as a part-time gig. You could make a fortune.”
He smiled. “I’m happy with my current job, but I appreciate the compliment.”
He went back to his egg cracking and she was left with the reality of having to cancel a wedding. Glen hadn’t even bothered to dump her himself, no way he was going to help.
“Don’t take this wrong, but I hate him.”
“Right now I hate him, too.” He looked at her. “I downloaded some articles on what to do in what order. I brought them over.”
He pointed to a plain folder sitting by her handbag on the small table next to the front door.
She thought about all the work she’d done to get married and how much more work it was going to be to undo it all. She thought about how she’d been so happy before and how she wasn’t happy now. Everything was different. No, she corrected herself. Everything was exactly the same. That was what had been lost. The promise of something better, with Glen. Now all she had was who and what she’d always been. Talk about sucky.
She looked at Daniel, then at the food. She thought of the hope she’d had, how she’d wanted to be a part of something, to make a family. With Glen, of course. He’d been the center of her...
Her eyes began to burn and not from lack of sleep. “I can’t do this,” she whispered.
Daniel turned toward her. “Ali?”
“I can’t do this. I can’t be the perky post-breakup girl who has it all together and I don’t know you well enough to have a meltdown in front of you. No offense.”
He wiped his hands on a dish towel. “None taken.”
“I just need to process this. I’ll get a new phone and distract myself for a few hours. I want to just keep breathing.” She nodded at the folder. “I really appreciate you bringing me information on how to cancel my wedding, but I’m going to put that off until tomorrow.” She tried to smile and failed. “You’re being really sweet and I appreciate it, but I—”
“You need some time alone. I get it.”
He crossed to her, put his hands on her shoulders and lightly kissed her cheek. “Breakfast is on me. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
“It’s guilt, right? You feel guilty because of what Glen did.”
“Yes.”
“I can live with that.”
She walked him to the door. When he was gone, she closed her eyes and tried to come up with a plan. She needed a new phone. That was number one. After she’d gotten that, she would go to the movies. There had to be some kids’ movie that would distract her. Or a nice horror flick that would terrify the sad out of her. Or maybe both. Later, she would sob her heart out and tomorrow she would get her act together. For today though, she was going to wallow. She’d survived the first night. Now there was only the rest of her life to get through.
* * *
Zennie spent Saturday doing the usual errand stuff that kept her life running smoothly, but even as she checked things off her list, she couldn’t escape the feeling of a dark cloud hanging over her. She felt awful for her sister—no one deserved to be dumped like that, ever. Glen was a total jackass and Zennie hoped he came to a slow and painful end. Not that bad things happening to Glen would make Ali feel better. Only time would do that, but Zennie felt there had to be something to be done or said. Not that she had a clue. She wasn’t exactly a touchy-feely kind of person and of the sisters, Ali and Finola were the ones who were the closest. They shared a bond that had never extended to Zennie. Maybe it was because there was a large age gap between the oldest and youngest—seven years. Finola had helped raise Ali while Zennie had been much closer to their father.
Zennie almost texted Finola a couple of times Saturday morning, then told herself Ali was right. Finola and Nigel needed their week away. Not to be overly insensitive, but Ali would still be brokenhearted in a week when Finola returned.
After her three o’clock hot yoga class, Zennie went back to her apartment and got in the shower. She had a date with Clark that night—her own fault. She should have canceled. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a nice guy—he absolutely was—but he wasn’t anyone she saw herself with in the long term. Not that she ever did. She’d never been the girl who’d played with dolls and had done pretend weddings. She’d rarely played with dolls at all. She hadn’t ever imagined what it would be like to grow up, fall in love and get married. She just wasn’t wired that way. The whole two-by-two thing was great for other people but less interesting for herself.
She stood in front of her tiny closet and thought longingly of an evening spent home alone, binge-watching the new season of The Crown, but it would be rude to cancel this late, so she had to suck it up.
She pulled on her go-to black capris and a black tank top, then chose one of her three loose, flowy tops that worked in most social situations. She slid on flat sandals before returning to the bathroom where she suffered through the indignity of applying mascara and a little lip gloss. Honestly, men didn’t put on makeup before they went out—why did she have to? It was barbaric. Like preparing herself to be sold at some concubine marketplace.
The overly dramatic image made her smile. Zennie pulled her small bag out of her tote and headed for the door. The restaurant Clark had suggested was close enough for her to walk. As she wasn’t going to be driving, maybe an extra glass of wine would make the date more bearable.
Zennie arrived at the trendy Italian restaurant right on