“That’s not your call.”
She gave a barking laugh. “You’re one to talk. How’s it feel to be on the other side of that line? I won’t let you do to her what you did to me. Walk away now, and maybe we can repair our friendship.”
The possibility of losing Mercy slammed into him. He didn’t expect to have to choose between his anchor and the woman he was falling for. “I’ll leave you both alone, but you have to do something for me in return.”
“You’ve used up all your favors.”
“I want one more anyway. Promise to tell Susan I asked about her. You don’t have to pass along a message or tell her what we talked about, or that you’re being as stubborn as I was about what’s best for her. Just tell her I asked.”
“It won’t change anything, but I’ll tell her. Goodbye.”
He stared at the phone for several minutes after, replaying everything in his head. Not only the conversation, but the time since he’ arrived in Utah. The bits with Susan and without.
If Susan called him back, would he sacrifice his friendship with Mercy to tell Susan how he felt?
Yes. The admission hurt. He hoped it didn’t come down to that. Mercy would pass along his message; he didn’t doubt it. But how long could he force himself to wait, to see if Susan called back, before he broke, drove up there, and demanded to see her?
He’d surrendered that right, but he wanted one more chance to admit he’d fucked up.
*
Susan knew this was coming. Andrew never made any secrets about it. He tried to warn her up front that she’d get emotionally attached to her first time. She insisted she knew better. How naïve was that?
For the first couple of days, she didn’t want to leave her room. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering why tears wouldn’t come if it hurt this badly. She forced herself up on Friday. She had an interview to go to and a life to lead. A ghosted memory of a mistake wouldn’t take that from her.
Driving into Salt Lake so close to Christmas was a pain. Traffic everywhere. People. Snow. But it was worth it. She nailed the classroom portion of her interview. The kids loved her, and she had a blast instructing them. A happy elation filled her when she got the job, but she couldn’t find the energy to celebrate.
She spoke with her Academic Adviser at the college. It took a little convincing to drive home the point that no, she wasn’t going to school on her dad’s dollar anymore. The guy was sympathetic when he finally got it. He helped her fill out financial aid forms based on her new job. She’d have to skip the spring term, because she needed pay stubs to finish her paperwork. He promised to push her application through, the moment he was able to. That gave her another couple of years, until graduation, to figure out how she’d pay the bill.
Phone call completed, she wandered into the kitchen. Mercy was home. Susan could only take so many pity looks and weak smiles.
“How are you doing?” It was the same question Mercy always led with, these days.
Susan had a prepackaged answer, as well. “Fine.” She grabbed the carton of orange juice from the fridge.
“Andrew asked about you.”
The juice slipped from her hand and hit the floor with a plastic splat. She fumbled to retrieve it and set it back on its shelf. “Oh?”
“I told him I’d tell you that.”
Susan turned to face her. “Should I call him?”
Mercy hesitated, studying the counter. “That’s not up to me.”
“Did you and he ever…” She couldn’t ask that. It was the last thing she wanted to hear.
“Dated? Slept together? Both.”
That didn’t hurt the way Susan thought it would. She expected it. “What happened?”
“He wanted an open relationship. I didn’t.”
“So he cheated on you?” The possibility bothered Susan, but it didn’t sound right.
“No. He told me from the start. I thought I was okay with it, and I wasn’t.”
“Do you ever regret it? The breaking up bit.”