Page 100 of Pity Pact
“I’m good, Dad. I might as well be there in case I hear anything about what the show has planned for me. You know, lawsuit or hanging at dawn.” Standing up, I tell my parents, “I had no right to treat you how I did this afternoon and I’m very sorry.”
“We know, dear,” my mom says.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t let me off the hook so easily,” I tell her.
“But you’re not me. And when … if … you have children of your own someday, you’ll know firsthand there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for them. Even listen to them berate you.”
“I really was horrible …” I start to say.
My dad interrupts me. “Nowhere near as bad as you were when you were in high school.”
That surprises me. I don’t have any recollection that I was anything but great.
My mom explains, “When kids are full of hormones, they’re like land mines ready to go off.”
“I know Jonathan was full of drama …” I’m hoping to divert their memories away from me.
“Jonathan was a doll.” My mom winks at me before adding, “We love you, Tim. We believe in you and stand by you. We will always have your back. But have no doubt, you have always been the dramatic one.”
I decide to ignore that last bit, and ask, “Will you tell me what you said when Trina interviewed you?”
“No,” my dad answers. “That will take the fun out of it when you watch it on TV.”
“I’m not sure I’m going to watch the show.” I’m not kidding, either. I don’t think I can bear to see how they’re going to portray me—you know, a pathetic loser who ruins every relationship he’s part of?
“Oh, you’re going to watch,” my mom announces. Then she inexplicably adds, “And I think you might be surprised by what you see.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
PAIGE
I go straight from the country club to Missy’s apartment. Being that it’s a weekend night, I expect she’s out with Jamie. But either way, I have a place to go where no one can find me.
I find a parking spot down the block and then I trudge through the snow. I’m freezing even though I have a coat on, over the tablecloth I’m still wearing. Pulling my keys out of my purse, I open the downstairs door to Missy’s apartment, then I climb the stairs.
Opening her front door, I’m surprised to find my friend standing in her kitchen holding a butcher’s knife. Alarmed, she asks, “What are you doing here?”
I motion for her to put the knife down. “I come in peace.”
“You scared me to death.” She turns back toward the counter and uses the knife to cut a pizza situated on a cutting board.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I didn’t think you’d be home.”
“If you didn’t think I’d be home, why are you here?” Her face contorts into a look of horror as I take my coat off and she gets a load of what I’m wearing. “What happened to you?”
“I quit the show,” I tell her. “I don’t care if my roof falls in onme. I could not stay onMidwestern Matchmakerand still have a modicum of respect for myself.” I walk down her small hallway to the bathroom and take her robe off the back of the door. Once I put it on, I come back out.
Missy carries the pizza into her living room and orders, “Start at the beginning.”
Which I do. I inform her Tim is a lying sack of poo, and that he was never looking for love. I share that I hope he falls into a pit of hungry crocodiles. Then I tell her about Eva.
“She was there tonight?” she asks, frozen in shock with a slice of pizza halfway to her mouth.
“Oh, she was there.” I explain how I ripped off my dress hoping to keep them from airing the fight. “I’m sure to be a planet-wide laughingstock.”
“That’s not great, but it can’t have beenthatbad.” I love how she’s trying to comfort me.
“Maybe not, but then I took off my bra.”