Missed Connections

Missed Connections: Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Later, at home, I'm pacing around my living room with a comically large glass of white wine. The added stress of Fern's course makes my head throb with every beat of my heart. Making a decision between the two men in my life would simplify things so much.

If it's about a physical connection, that's not fair, because Blake and I have only touched a couple of times, and they were regrettably platonic. That said, the one time he practically melted me with his hands, so who knows how great our chemistry could be if we made love. There was something there, or the potential for something there, so Jack and my amazing physical relationship wins, but it's not by one hundred percent.

And the emotional connection I have with Blake should be the clincher, but I've had moments of that with Jack too. And I haven't really talked much with him or given him a chance to be more than sex. He was right about that. 

Jack has the physical edge with the potential for more emotions. Blake has the emotional edge with the potential for more chemistry. What's more important in a relationship in the long term? I'd say emotional, which would mean Blake is the one, but Jack and I started as friends, so I know we'd get along well long-term.

I pace around my coffee table, waiting for a bolt of clarity to hit and tell me which man is the one. They both deserve an answer, but I don't know what to do.

My stomach's been killing me for days.

Time to talk to the one person who will tell it like it is and kick my ass into gear.

Pete picks up on the fourth ring. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

"Hey, what's up?"

"Calling to work out the details of our dinner date, and also I have some issues right now that I could really use your keen observation on, oh sage one."

"Okay."

Now that I can fully vent, I don't even know where to start. I'm overwhelmed by choices and hippie bullshit. I guess I'll start there. "Everything is a mess right now. My bitchy coworker I told you about has gotten way worse, and I'm pretty sure she's trying to get me fired and making me look bad whenever she can. Ziggy and Fern hate me and have no boundaries, and have made me start wearing these god-awful smocks to work every day. They're a horrid shade, like half of a rainbow, and make me look sick and the fabric is stiff and makes me look about as curvy as a refrigerator. I got railroaded into doing one of their stupid New Age courses, which is four days long! And it's way out in Jersey, so it's isolated, and I read on the pamphlet online that we're completely cut off from the outside world! It's going to be like Survivor without the film crew, but full of hippies trying to stare into my eyes and break down my boundaries and make me talk about uncomfortable things."

"Wow."

"I'm not even done yet. After the course—which freaks me out because I'm pretty sure it's a cult—I'll be short on rent, so they're 'helping me out' by letting me work twelve-hour shifts all that week and then babysitting their children on Sunday! Can you believe that? Twelve-hour shifts for a week after doing their hippie crap. I'll be wrecked."

"Well—"

"And that's not even touching on my personal life, Pete. I swear, it never rains; it pours. You know that I've been seeing Jack, but we're just, well, physical. I can't be with him for obvious reasons, not least of which is the fact it would ruin the friendship. Or, at least, I thought there were other reasons we couldn't be together until very recently and now I'm not so sure. But our chemistry is amazing. I'm trying really hard not to get into specifics and gross you out because he's your brother—"

"Thank you, I appreciate that."

"—but I really like him. And he's asked me to give him a fair chance at being something more than friends with benefits. And I really want to." I'm going to wear a hole in the varnish from pacing on it. "But there's this other guy I met online, and we have this amazing connection. We didn't really meet online. Technically, he works with me. Well, not with me; he's that massage therapist I told you about, but he's not a hippie, and we have these amazing conversations, and I think I'm falling in love with him too. I don't know what to do, Pete."

He clears his throat and is quiet for a minute. "Wow. Holy first-world problems, girlie."

"What?" He sounds so uninterested that I get a weird feeling in my chest. "Okay, are you mad at me because you think I'm cheating on Jack? Because Blake and I have barely even touched—and we've never kissed. Or even hugged. I'd never do something cruel to Jack. You know me better than that." I need his validation that it's not really cheating despite the gnawing in my gut telling me it is.

"It has nothing to do with that. Jack's a big boy, and you're a big girl. But your problems are so fucking meaningless. You have a job and two guys who want to be with you, and you think those are problems?"

Shock springs tears to my eyes. "I can't believe you're talking to me like this. We always talk to each other about our lives."

He sighs. "You know what? Maybe I'm being harsh, but it's the truth. Today, I worked on someone whose hair was falling out from cancer—a regular client who's full of life. She's an emergency room nurse who busts her ass every day helping people. She's one of the best people I've ever met, best attitude, brightest smile in the world. She started chemo a couple of weeks ago. Today, when I was washing her hair, it started falling out in the sink in these huge, sickening clumps that stuck to my hands and clogged the sink, and she apologized and cried over a disease that's killing her."

The tears that gathered for myself fall for a stranger, burning my face. I feel an inch tall. "Pete, I am so sorry. I can't imagine how scary and sad that must have been."

"No, you can't imagine it. This woman, a bright spot in my salon who I see every two months, might die. She's really sick and she could be gone, and the only way I'd know is an obituary. So I just can't muster the same amount of worry for your situation."

I don't know what to say. "I'm so sorry."

"Look, I know I'm being harsh, but just make a decision and stick with it. In your case, nobody's dying, Sarah. You can change any of the things you just told me. You have the power to do that. My client doesn't. She'd probably love to have any or all of your 'problems' right now instead of the things she's facing. I don't know. I'll talk to you later."

He hangs up, and I'm at a loss because he's right, but that still doesn't help me make a decision. 

It just makes me feel even shittier about myself than I did ten minutes ago.