After losing her job and her girlfriend, it's time for Annie Abraham to admit defeat and move back in with her parents. She has hardly been back to her tiny Montana hometown since the unforgettable summer before her senior year of college, when she...
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Laurel hasn't replied to my text from last night. She hasn't even read it, as far as I can tell, and I only know she made it home safely because Ruth is here and she promises that she stayed until she was sure Laurel was alright. She won't say any more than that, won't tell me what Laurel said to her, what they talked about, and it's driving me insane.
"Look alive, Annie," Bobby says. "It's Christmas Eve, not Christmas Grieve."
"How can I celebrate the holidays when I'm pretty sure my girlfriend hates me?" I say, peeling myself off the counter to stand straight. The day has only just begun, the store quiet so far, and I can't stop checking my phone.
"Oh, shush, Annie, she doesn't hate you," Ruth says.
Bobby eyes us and says, "What even happened last night? I feel like I'm missing out."
"That's not for us to discuss," Ruth says, giving me a pointed look that makes me shrink.
If Laurel hates me, she's probably justified. I hate myself for how last night went down. I know I overreacted, overstepped the mark, over everything. I've said as much in several follow-up texts, each one getting a couple of gray ticks and nothing else, and I don't know what else to do now. I need to see her, to apologize in person, to see how she is and what she needs, but I'm here until five and it's Christmas Eve. I don't want to wreck whatever plans she has with her kids.
So I'm stuck here with this ache in my chest reminding me that I fucked up, and I'm supposed to work a seven hour customer service shift with a smile on my face.
It's not ideal. It's so far from ideal. Even worse when Ruth knows way more than she's admitting to and Bobby keeps prying for information, and if there's one thing Laurel made clear last night, it's that none of this is mine to tell. And yet I did. I told Nathan and I told Theo and then I lay awake all fucking night kicking myself for not being who she needed me to be in that moment. I wasn't Laurel's girlfriend, level-headed and supportive. I was Nathan's little sister, the bratty attention whore. An ugly showcase of the youngest child syndrome Mom teases me about, which might have cost me my relationship.
When Bobby goes to the stockroom, Ruth joins me at the counter and lowers her voice when she says, "Hey. Stop stressing out. You know how Laurel is. She gets overwhelmed and she has to take time to process her emotions and reactions. They don't come naturally to her, so give her that time, okay?"
It's like being back at school, being gently admonished by the kindly older teacher I only want to impress.
"Okay. Thank you. Sorry, Ruth."
"What're you apologizing to me for?"
I'm not sure actually. "For moping?" I offer up. "And for being kind of responsible for you having to come get Laurel last night."
"As far as I can tell, that wasn't your responsibility."
"I could have defused the situation and instead I threw gasoline on the flames," I say. We keep our voices down, in case Bobby is only pretending to be in the stock room and is actually eavesdropping from just inside the door.
