Moving On

Thirteen

THIRTEEN
S a n d r a

I phoned Carly earlier today to ask where exactly where we would meet, because when she called me the first time, she just said in the University District.

"Sandra?" She said.

"Uh, hi. I just finished my only class for today and I called just to ask where exactly in the University District will we meet?" I say quickly. I'm not used to talking with her in a civilized manner.

"Oh. That." She exhales. "Meet me in Applebee's."

That's it. She always keeps it cold and dismissive. I thank her for that. I don't want to prolong the inevitable. And I commend her straightforwardness. I think we would've liked each other if there wasn't a serious issue between us.

"What time?"

"Around 3PM. I have to leave soon after that hour, so let's keep it quick and easy by not lying to each other and just be done with it," she says. "You got that?"

Usually, I would've gone straight to defence mode by the suggestion of her tone and the way she speaks. But I'm sensing that she just really wants this over with so she can go on and continue being a mother to her and Luke's child, and not give a fuck about me.

"Yes," I finally say into the receiver. "I guess I'll see you later?"

"Goodbye."

-

I've been sitting in the booth I used to sit with the guys for almost half an hour.

I know, it's not healthy to dwell in the past, and all that Spectacular Now bullshit. Whatever, I don't care about that. I don't like cheesy books, for starters.

I just wanted to be comfortable even though only for a bit before I face Luke's...whatever the hell Carly is to him. Girlfriend? Wife? No. Definitely not wife.

Finally, I hear that familiar the familiar ding of the door chime the door here has, signalling that another customer has entered their restaurant.

Sure enough, I see a very thin but still very pretty woman in a white V-neck shirt, black leather pants and strappy heels with a cute and chubby kid on her arms. It took me a moment to realize that the woman I'm looking at is the same girl who played dumb and purposely said hurtful things to me when I met her in Hawaii.

"Carly?"

"Oh. There you are," she says coldly (yet again). She turns to the toddler she's carrying on her arms. "Dev, can you be on your own for like five minutes? I mean, like, not make me carry you? Mommy has to talk to someone."

How a toddler could ever understand that, I don't know. But I guess Dev understood completely because he nodded and said something that sounded like, "Momomomom."

Carly put him down, assisted him so he could sit on the booth too, and then sat herself.

"Let's get down to business."

"Okay." I didn't argue. I want this over with as much as she does.

"Luke's back on tour," she began. I didn't know that. "And I need to go to some distant hospital because as you can see, I'm sick," she continued.

Wait, what? She's sick? I mean, yeah, I noticed that she dropped a lot of weight but I didn't immediately translate that to being sick.

"What's wrong?" I'm surprised. I actually sound concerned.

"Let's just say that I'm very, very sick," she says, "I'm so sick that I need to go somewhere so that I can pay people to fix what's wrong with me. But I'll doubt that they will. I'm trying to be optimistic, you know. Well, sort of."