Chapter 27

 

Elsie

 

I miss him. My every thought is consumed with him. Trevor brought excitement into my dull life. Now, there is no excitement. No anticipation of what’s to come. I’m me again. Boring Elsie. What’s confusing is, I’m still pissed at him and I think I have a right to be. But I can’t deny that I miss him. That I wish things were different and that I handled this situation with more tact instead of reacting on raw emotion. But, spur-of-the-moment when this was dumped on me all at once, I reacted the way I reacted. I was hurt, still am to some degree, but hindsight being 20/20, I could’ve handled it so much better than I did. I didn’t have to shut Trevor out and cut Priscilla off. People I care about even though they’ve wronged me. And I could’ve sent Trevor a ‘thank you’ text for the apologetic roses he sent to my office. But I made no effort to connect with him. Now, I’m sitting here lost, daydreaming about what could’ve been while remembering what was.

If what Priscilla said is true, and Trevor was just pretending to like me, why did my time with him feel so real? Why when he kissed me, he made a serious effort to make a lasting impression? And why on earth would he keep planning dates? Could a man pretend to like a woman that long?

“Men. Ugh!” Karsheeda grunts after arguing with her baby daddy.

Her comment has me thinking that maybe I’m better off without a man in my life, especially since I’ve never had the kind of confusion I feel now after everything went down with Trevor. The roses he sent me on Friday are still in their own little corner on my desk.

“Are you alright, Sheeda?”

“I’m fine,” Karsheeda says. “It’s my son’s daddy that’s fenna have a busted lip. Hey, speaking of busting lips, have you heard from Trevor?”

“No.”

“Why not? You didn’t thank him for the roses, did you?”

“I didn’t. I didn’t know what to say.”

“I’ll tell you what to say.” Karsheeda changes her voice to what I assume is supposed to be her sexy voice when she says, “Hey, Trevor. Come here, bebby. I wanna bite you. Yum, yum, yum.”

I chuckle. “Girl, you’re crazy. You were just snapping on your baby daddy and now you’re trying to convince me to talk to Trevor.”

“It’s obvious you miss him. You’ve been sulking all day.”

“I know, and I do miss him,” I admit.

“Then I say go get what’s yours, Izzle.”

“But he ain’t mine.”

“He is yours and he’s ripe for the picking. And guess what? Guess what?”

“What, Sheeda?” I ask, unenthused.

“It’s harvest season, baby!”

“Harvest season?” I repeat, laughing.

“Yes. You better go get your man, girl. Now, he done made the first move by sending you roses. It’s your turn to make a move.”

I know she’s right. I’m just not sure how to execute that move. And even though I am beyond pissed with Priscilla, I know I need to talk to her, too, so on the way home from the office, I drive over to her house, ring the doorbell and wait. She answers quickly and says, “Please tell me this means you’ve forgiven me?”

“I came over here because I had some things to say.”

“Okay,” she says, stepping aside so I can enter.

I walk in, look around and say, “I see you’ve changed the place since I was here last.”

“Yes. Billie wanted all leather seating so it looked good to his clients.”

I bet he did…

“Sit down, Elsie, and let me get you something to drink.”

“No, I don’t want anything to drink. I’m just going to say this before I lose the nerve.” I clear my throat and ask, “Have you lost your freakin’ mind?”

“Elsie—?”

“How can you just pick some guy to ask me out—some random dude on the Internet for crying out loud? And then you had the nerve to tell him about me. Where I live, where I work—”

“I never told him where you lived.”

“You told him where I worked! You told him things about my personality that I’m ashamed to tell people—private things I trusted would be safe with my best friend.”

“I see how wrong I was in doing that now, but—”

“Did you even check his background or anything? He could’ve been a serial killer, but, you know what? That’s beside the point. What I have to say is this—for years, I’ve been your sidekick, Priscilla, and you’ve been the girl who got everything. The man, the looks, the house, the loser best friend that you could use and manipulate—you won at life. I don’t care what you say about Trevor. He likes me, but you don’t want me to be with him because you don’t want to see me win. Why? Because you’re the winner. I’m the loser. That’s how it’s always been, and that’s how you want it to always be.”

“But—”

“There’s no need to say otherwise because I know better. Why else would you confess and tell me what you did?”

“Because I felt guilty,” she answers.

“No, because you wanted me to stop seeing Trevor so I’d be available for you, but understand something, Priscilla—that ends now. I’ve been a loyal friend to you. It’s time you learned how to be one to me. For starters, do not show up at my house at any time of the day, do not ring my doorbell back-to-back-to-flippin’-back like a lil’ kid who got locked out and do not track me like I’m your property. If you want to see me, do me the courtesy of calling first. Got it?”

“Yeah. Okay. Jeez,” she says, doing an eye roll.

“And do not ever in your glittery, little perfect life ever hook me up with an Internet stranger.”

Priscilla sighs heavily. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“For your sake, you better hope it doesn’t,” I say, feeling empowered for some reason like I can actually snatch her. I think Karsheeda is rubbing off on me.

“Are we good now?” she asks.

“That remains to be seen,” I say standing up. “Depends on how you behave. I’m out.”

“Where are you going?” she asks in a panic.

“None of your business,” I say, smiling as I exit the door and head for my car.

 

* * *

 

When I leave Priscilla’s, I have a plan in mind to find a way to talk to Trevor. A phone call won’t do. Neither will a text message. I can’t retreat into wariness and I can’t allow fear to prevent me from doing what has to be done. I just hope it’s not too late.

I swing by a store to buy a housewarming gift and drive to his house. I press the doorbell and wait for a moment. The wind is whippin’ so hard, I feel like my face is chapped. When I hear the door opening, suddenly I can’t feel the cold any longer. A flash of heat comes over me instead.

The door opens fully and it’s Lana.

Lana?

“Lana,” I say, my eyes as wide as her grin.

“Hey, Elsie!” she says, excited to see me.

I’m shocked she doesn’t call me Rachel. “You know my real name,” I say.

“Yes. Trevor told me all about it. Come in.”

I step inside and give her a quick hug. “It’s so good to see you again, Lana.”

“You, too.”

“I can’t believe Trevor told you about me.”

“He did.”

“Is he here? I haven’t had a real conversation with him since we left your house, so I brought him a housewarming gift.”

“That’s nice of you.”

I place the gift bag on the table, then look at her. She’s looking back at me, smiling.

“So, Trevor’s not here?”

“No. Not yet,” Lana says. “He’s back to work now that the move is finally complete. I’ve been helping him organize things.”

“Oh.”

“Why did you agree to be his pretend fiancée when you came to visit?”

“I was doing Trevor a favor.”

“But you made it seem so real, Elsie. You’re either a superb actress, or you’re actually in love with my son. Which one is it?”

“The latter,” I respond.

Her smile widens. “I knew it!”

I’m smiling, too, but it disappears when I don’t know where I stand with Trevor.

“How long are you in town, Lana?”

“I’m not sure yet. Thanks to our little talks, I decided to leave Dexter. If he cleans up his act, I’ll go back, but as for now, he doesn’t deserve my cooking, cleaning or anything else. I can’t believe how blind I was.”

“What matters is that you realized it and made a change.”

“Yes, and I feel great,” she says.

There’s commotion at the front door and we both look there to see Trevor enter. My body stiffens as we lock eyes and I watch a small frown tighten his already tense expression. He has a couple of grocery bags in his hand and pushes the door closed with his foot.

“Hi,” he says, carrying the bags to the kitchen, placing them on the counter. Then he comes back to where we’re sitting.

Lana stands and says, “I’ll give you two some privacy.” She heads down the hallway.

Trevor sits on the sofa – a safe space away from me to look at me as if reacquainting himself with my face when he says, “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“I know. I needed some time to process everything. Um...” I glance up at him. He’s still handsome. Still everything my heart desires, but I now know he’s so much more than his physical attributes. He’s a man with a heart equally as beautiful as his face.

“I’ll broach the subject since I was one of the conspirators,” he says. “When Priscilla brought this idea to me, I didn’t want to do it because she said you were shy and I didn’t want to hurt you. I told her that, straight up. But she offered me a chance to work with EBN and I took the bait.”

“Trevor, you don’t have to explain.”

He scoots closer to me and says, “I do, because I want this to be resolved and I want you to know the truth. Priscilla asked me to ask you out. I did that. She told me you would say no. You did that. But me convincing you to have dinner with me, was because I wanted to. Everything that has happened between us—the dinners, skating, watching football together and asking you to tag along with me on my trip to my parent’s place was all me. And by the way, when we were there, I wasn’t kissing you to impress my mother. I was kissing you because I wanted to kiss you. Because my mouth watered for the taste of your lips.”

He slides closer to me and takes my hands in his, and says, “I was kissing you because I’ve fallen in love with you, Elsie Evans.”

My eyes fill with tears like the man had just proposed. “You love me?”

“Yes. I love you. And I miss you and I need you to forgive me because I can’t live without you. Do you forgive me?”

“Yes, Trevor, and I love you, too.”

He releases a sigh like a huge weight has been lifted off of his shoulders, then straddles me, prompting me to lay back on the sofa while he presses his lips to mine before taking a deeper kiss. I know his mother is here but I can’t control the moans that force their way out.

“Stop all that noise,” he whispers against my lips. “Mother’s going to think we’re getting busy on the couch.”

I laugh at him. “I can’t help it. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby,” he says, kissing me again. Then he pulls back, looks at me and smiles.

“I brought you a housewarming gift,” I tell him.

“I know. I’m kissing it,” he says kissing me all over my face.

Giggling, I say, “It’s on the table, silly.”

“Is that your way of telling me to get off of you?”

“Yes, before we get busted.”

He slowly eases off of me, takes the bag from the table and removes his gift. He smiles.

I’m so tickled, tears come to my eyes.

“A-1 sauce with a red ribbon tied around it. You got me back,” he says, smiling. “This ain’t the same bottle I sent you, is it?”

“No. I got you the big bottle since you have such a massive appetite.”

“Right,” he says, placing the bottle on the table. He leans forward to give me another kiss, then we embrace in a long, tight squeeze, hugging the life out of each other. He loosens his grip on me when he says, “I got something for you, too.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I’ll be right back.”

When he returns, I see nothing in his hands, but he drops to his knees in front of me when he says, “These last few weeks have taught me a lot about life and love and heartbreak. When I saw you cry that day on the stairs at your house, it broke my heart. That’s how I knew I loved you. And when you gave me this ring back,” he says, removing the ring from his pocket, “It hurt me to my soul because I never intended for you to take it off. I want you to be mine, not just for a little while, but forever. Elsie Evans, will you marry me?”

I didn’t know I could work up tears so fast. I’m a leaky faucet while I’m staring at this man in disbelief. “You want to marry me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” I ask, sounding foolish.

He laughs while wiping my tears away and says, “What do you mean, why? Love isn’t enough?”

“It is, but—”

“Then make my dreams come true and say, I do, and I want you to look into my eyes when you say it.”

I look up, see the intense stare in his green eyes that still makes my stomach quiver and after he thumbs more tears away, I say, “I do.”

He slides the ring back onto my quivering finger where it will stay for an eternity because I’m never taking it off. Never.

Trevor embraces me again and I hug him back, elated. Through all of this, I never had to change who I was to impress him. I’m still an introvert. I don’t dress like the ‘it’ girl. I’m not a boss chick and I’m not assertive by any means. I’m me. Elsie Evans. AKA Ellie. AKA Izzle, and I’m in love with and engaged to the man of my dreams.