“What’s up?”
“I asked if you wanted anything from the kitchen,” she repeats.
“I think the old man needs his hearing checked,” Mason teases.
I’m only about six months older than he is, but we rib each other about it, with me teasing him about his youth and naivety and him cracking feeble old man jokes.
“I’m good, thanks,” I tell Lizzy, ignoring Mason.
I can’t believe she’s seriously here. And from the sound of it, she’s single. I’d kind of been worried she was going to end up marrying that douchebag. Davey, or Danny or something?
She’d seemed kind of serious about him, and they’d been living together for about three years, so I’d thought he was going to end up being the anchor chaining her to Montana forever. I wonder what’s changed.
She comes back out with a can of soda, and I smile to myself. Strawberry Fanta.
I guess some things never change.
“So, to answer your question from before,” she tells me, taking a sip, “It’s kind of a long story.”
“We’ve got time,” I assure her.
She sits back down beside me and Mason settles into his favorite chair. “Well, it actually started when I got offered a promotion,” she explains.
Mason’s brow furrows in confusion. “Like a transfer or something?”
“Nope, just a regular promotion. It was a really good offer, in fact, lots of benefits. But right away, I hesitated. So I told them I’d think about it, and my plan was to go home and talk to Danny about it.”
So it was Danny. I’d never actually met the guy face-to-face, but just based on what Lizzy had told me about him, I didn’t like the guy. I probably would have hated anyone she was with, just on principle, but I could forgive someone who treated her better.
“Well, Danny didn’t end up being an issue, we broke up later that afternoon,” she says flatly.
“What happened?” Mason asks sympathetically.
“We just wanted different things,” she says with a casual shrug, “I wanted to move away from the state, he wanted to screw other women.”
“Ouch,” Mason and I both wince.
Lizzy nods, taking another sip from her soda can. “Yep. Walked in on him fucking his ex-girlfriend in our bed.”
I put an arm around her and give her a squeeze. “I’m so sorry.”
She shrugs, but I can see a little lingering hurt in her eyes. “I’m better off without him,” she says, “And it was the catalyst I finally needed to get out of there. I took all of my stuff and got a hotel for a few days to figure out a game plan.”
“I hope by all of your stuff you mean you left him in an empty apartment,” Mason mutters.
Lizzy shakes her head. “No, actually. I left pretty much all of the stuff we picked out for that place. I wanted to make a clean break, I don’t need the furniture or the dishes I got with my ex-boyfriend, you know? I just took what was mine. Well…and all the batteries out of all the remotes. And the can opener.”
I snickered. “Was that all you did for revenge?”
“No,” she admits with a laugh, “When I went to get my stuff, he left me alone in the place, so I got a package of five of those super-fine glitter shakers. I got on the stepladder and opened each of those little canisters on one of the blades of the ceiling fan, so next time he turns it on, he’s going to be showered in a rainbow tornado of glitter.”
By the time she’s finished her story, Mason and I are both howling with laughter at the mental image. As pranks go, it’s a damn good one. It could be weeks before her ex notices.
It kind of reminds me why Lizzy and I always hit it off so much. She’s clever and funny, and tough as nails. I’ve seen her bounce back from situations where other people might crumble, with a smile on her face.
It takes a few minutes for Mason and I to pull ourselves together, but eventually the laughter dies down enough so she can tell us the rest of her story. “I decided that this was where I wanted to be, so I quit my job, started sending out my resume here, got an apartment, and…well, here I am.”
“Well, we’re glad you’re here,” Mason says, “Anything promising on the job front?”
She nods. “Yeah, I’ve actually got three interviews set up this week, plus another two e-mails from interested places. I guess having a little bit of experience has opened some doors for me.”
“Good, let’s keep you here this time!” he exclaims.
We’d tried to talk her into staying with us until she could find work before, but she wasn’t comfortable “being a sponge,” despite the fact that we both offered. So when she’d gotten that stupid offer hundreds of miles away, we’d just had to watch her go.
I can’t speak for Mason, but I know I sure as hell don’t have any intention of letting her go a second time.