A Sure Thing
From my head to my toes, and from my insides to my outside, things were clicking on all cylinders with Reed. In every way, Reed kept me looking forward to the next encounter with him—whether it was via phone, text, email, or in my favorite way—face-to-face and cheek-to-cheek. Time passed into summer, and like a sun burst kind of Seattle day, I knew for certain that this was the real deal.
Reed: Having a good day, Ms. Sanders?
Me: Absolutely, Mr. Reed. Your day going okay?
Reed: Nah…
Me: Really? What’s going on, Babe?
Reed: I’m missing you like mad.
Me: So you say…
Reed: I do. It’s a sure thing…
Me: Sure thing, huh?
Love will have you like that, won’t it? Making all kinds of promises to that person and to yourself. Always. Yep, that is what I told him, having absolutely no idea how quickly things were about to change.
@@@@@
We were having dinner at his place. He was cooking,
and I was helping. (So domesticated…the man actually
knew how to cook, and he did it quite well.) As he cooked the fresh fish, I was prepping veggies and greens for the accompanying salad while browsing my telephone because notifications started pinging like crazy.
janetreedflowers
@dexterreedDMV – Congratulations, Cuz! Hope the new position goes well!
anekareedVA
@dexterreedDMV – Congratulations, Son, on the promotion! Looking forward to having you back on the East Coast (miss you much)!
CelesteImStillAliveAndKicking
@dexterreedDMV – Dexter, what is this I hear about you getting a new job? Call me. I have questions.
Charlesreedwoodmaker
@dexterreedDMV— Son, call me.
My phone kept buzzing, but my heart felt like a big and really heavy elephant had squatted on it. I could not breathe. He was leaving.
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I looked up from my phone to observe him. With jazz playing softly in the background, he moved smoothly back and forth between the stove and refrigerator, using his cooking skills to make a meal for us—just like there was not a thing wrong.
Take a deep breath, Aubrey. Breathe. I told myself this as I pondered whether to slap him across his head or hear him out. Sanity won out—this round.
“Reed,” I said.
“Yeah, Babe?” he responded, tilting his head to acknowledge me as he tended to dinner.
“When were you going to tell me about the new position?” I softly inquired.
He turned from the stove, shutting down the fire, and removing the pan from the heat. The look on his face said it all. He was leaving. He was leaving.
“Aubrey,” he started.
“Don’t “Aubrey” me, Dexter Reed.”
“Aubrey,” he started again. “Aubrey, hear me out, okay?”
“Hear you out? I just found out from social media—social media, Reed!—that you have a new job and are moving back to the East Coast! And, you want me to hear you out? Okay, Reed, go ahead! Tell me what this is all about!”
“Babe,” he began.
I gave him the eye like only an angry woman could, saying without vocalizing, You have lost your mind standing there and calling me “Babe” right now.
“Okayyyy, then. Aubrey,” he said. “I just found out last night about the new position.”
“Last night? Was that before or after you told me good night?”
“Aubrey, listen,” he said firmly. “There was talk
about the possibility a month or so ago. I thought nothing much of it—after all, I had only been out here in
Seattle since last winter. I honestly didn’t think I was on the short list.”
“When, Reed, did you find out that you were on the short list?”
“Last week,” he whispered.
“Last week, huh? When were you going to tell me? When, Reed? When were you going to tell me?”
“Tonight,” he whispered once more, looking away from me briefly and turning his head back to me.
“So, you were going to feed me, love me, and then tell me that you were leaving me, huh?”
“Aubrey, you know better than that. You’re everything that I want in a woman. You know how I feel and what I think about you.”
“Do I?”
“Aubrey, please.”
“”Please” what, Reed?”
“I didn’t know how to tell you, okay? I just didn’t know. And, I didn’t want to.”
“You know what, Reed? You didn’t have to tell me. Your social media connections did it all for you.”
“Aubrey, don’t do this. Just. Don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what? Don’t act like this isn’t happening? Don’t act like you kept something this important from me—knowing that it would change things for us? Don’t do what, Reed?”
I walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. I sat down on the ultra-smooth leather sofa that we had picked out for his place. Saying nothing, I put on
my shoes and then grabbed my handbag.
“Aubrey,” he said, watching me prepare to leave. “What are you doing? Leaving? Really? We need to talk.”
“No, Reed, we do not need to talk. You should have talked last week. Heck, last month would’ve been good. No, Reed, we most certainly do not need to talk. Good night and good-bye!”
I left his place, slamming his door, and with my breath hitching in that crazy way that lets me know that I’m about to bawl like a baby.
Getting in the car, I sat for a minute trying to get my mind halfway right. There was only one person that I wanted to speak with at that moment.
“Phone,” I said to the car’s voice recognition system. “Call Trish on cell.”
The phone rang a couple of times before she answered.
“Hey, Girl!”
“Trish,” I said with tears in my voice. “He’s leaving. He’s going back to Virginia.”
“Reed? Okay. Where are you?”
“I’m leaving his place.”
“I’ll meet you at your house.”
“Okay,” I whispered. “Okay.”
“It’s going to be all right. I mean it, Aubrey.”
“Trish…”
“I’m on my way.”
“Okay,” I whispered again.
And, that’s how I knew that no matter the state of things with Dexter Reed, I had a five-star friend in Trish. Still, my heart hurt like a bad review.