“Marie!”
“What? Come on, Tar! If I can’t live vicari-ously through you, I’m gonna have to kill myself. I need to join you on your world tour.
Can’t I carry your luggage or something?
Toss rose petals when Ryan walks?”
“What’s wrong with the cooler?” Marie let out a huff. “Someone needs to get laid on top of it. Maybe that will fix it.”
“Call Gary. I’m sure he’ll be happy to help.”
I heard the familiar noise of the cash register tape cycling, grinding like the decrepit old-timer that it was.
One more thing in the
bar that needs to be replaced.
“Yeah, right. He hasn’t talked to me since we got back from ll.A. and to be honest, I couldn’t care less if he ever does. I’m sick of him.”
“Why? What happened?” I heard Ryan drop something in the bathroom and it made me flinch. Sounded like the can of shaving cream hitting the tiled floor.
“Ah, remember that guy from the
Reparation after-party who thought I was a casting agent? Nate—the hottie with the incredible ass?”
I drew a vivid picture in my mind. Tall, dark brown hair. Wide shoulders with a narrow waist. Total
GQ material. “Yeah. So what? Is Gary mad because you were talking to some guy?”
“Yep. When we got back to our room we got into a huge fight. He completely flipped out on me, told me I was flirting like a whore and stuff. It got . . . it got pretty ugly.” I swallowed hard, picturing Gary’s anger potential at its worst.
I’ll kill him if he laid a
hand on her. “How ugly?” A few beats of silence passed. “Marie, did he hit you?”
She sighed. “No, although for a moment I wasn’t sure—he was
that angry. He said he wasn’t happy anymore and he . . . he said he wants a divorce.”
I felt my heart clench and I gasped. “Oh my God! No! What did you say?” I heard her take a deep breath. “I told him if that’s what he wants, I’m gone. It’s not like this hasn’t been brewing for a while now.”
Oh, shit. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”
“What’s to say? You know how he is.
When I try to talk to him about what’s bothering me he shuts down or ignores me. We got into a huge fight even before we left for ll.A. after I found out that he spent
another three thousand dollars out of our account to buy another crappy car to fix up. When I told him I was mad that he bought it without discussing it with me first, he reminded me of how much more money he earns, and then he had the audacity to tell me to shut the fuck up.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No, I’m not. He’s been . . . I don’t know. I think he’s seeing someone else.” I felt like freaking out. “Are you kidding me?”
“I’m not sure but I have that gut feeling, you know? He’s just being really weird, yelling at me all the time. About three weeks ago, he said he was going out drinking with his friend, Tony, but he never came home.
He said he crashed at Tony’s but I’m pretty sure that was a lie. He’s never done that before and he got all pissed-off when I asked him about it. All I know is that I can’t take it anymore. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been staying in your apartment the last couple of nights.”
Now I really felt like crap for telling her about Ryan’s second proposal. I was so wrapped up in my own little world that I had no clue she was suffering.
“Marie, you’re my best friend. Whatever you need.”
“Thanks. Anyway, Pete looked at the cooler. Said the compressor is shot. When we got back, the floor was all wet. I called for prices on a new one.”
I didn’t care about the damn cooler.
“Wait. So, what . . . are you leaving him?” She huffed. “I don’t know, but I can’t live this way anymore, Taryn. He’s miserable.
He’s making me miserable. He’s been avoiding me more and more, barely speaking to me.”
“Sweetie, I’m so sorry.”
I heard her tears crack. “You mind if I stay with you for a while?”
Her heartbreak was breaking my heart.
“No, of course I don’t mind. You can stay with me as long as you want.” I cursed inwardly, furious that Gary would do this to her and even more angry with myself for strapping her with all of my responsibilities while she was all alone.
“Oh, some lady from United Fidelity Bank called for your dad. Said something about a letter and him owing late fees for a safe-deposit box rental? I have her number. But just so you know, we’ve stopped answering the telephone. I’m trying to screen through the messages, but there are too many.” I groaned. Dealing with my parents’ estate, and the unrelenting press as well, was a never-ending battle. “I have to get back there.”