I look down at Delane, who is, as usual, unimpressed with my mood swings. “I’m good, Atti; you can go back out there.”
Nodding, I head out to the garage and tuck myself into a workbench with my back to the space. I open my phone and scroll through my messages with Goldie. I smirk a little at the sheer volume.
Weeks.
We have been texting dailyfor weeks.
Only texting. I mean, some phone calls but no FaceTimes and no meeting up. That morning in her car before her first day of work was the last time we kissed. Touched. Been that close, physically.
And I’m good with it.
Goldie started seeing a therapist here in Oakcreek. She’s working through some shit, she says, and I know just what she’s working through. Reynold goddamn motherfucking Porter and his trauma. My jaw tightens, and my fists clench at just the thought of his name.
But as someone working through their own shit, I think she’s doing the right thing. When she asked if we could just be text friends for a while, I easily agreed. Because the thing I’ve come to realize is that… I want Goldie. But I want her to be right with herself, or she’ll blame me forever.
And I think we got that, her and me; forever.
I reread these at night when I’m in bed, and moments like this, where I’m all fired up and itching to protect… I read them and feel stable.
I can’t undo what happened to Meredith, and it ain’t my job to protect all women in her honor. I have to find the balance.
I begin rereading a conversation from a few weeks back.
Goldie:Most embarrassing thing, go
Goldie:I’ll tell you mine
Atticus:I don’t get embarrassed
Goldie:Psh. Everyone gets embarrassed
Atticus:You gotta care what people think to get embarrassed
Goldie:And you’ve never cared what people think, huh? Not even once?
Atticus:I haven’t for a long time
Atticus:What’s yours?
Goldie:Well, now I feel judged by simply having one
Goldie:Wait, no I don’t.
Goldie:You’re inhuman
Goldie:Everyone cares what people think about them
Atticus:I don’t
Atticus:Now tell me
Goldie:Okay, this is going to sound really dumb to you, but… when I was in high school, I wore a brand new pair of jeans to school. I was so stoked to wear them, as you know, I love clothes.
Atticus:I am aware
Goldie:So anyway, you know how jeans usually have that clear sticker running down the leg? The one that says the size of the jeans a million times? Well I left that on and didn’t realize it.
Goldie:I had Spanish class with this awful, awful girl. She was the principal's daughter but she was one of those really toxic girls that pretended to be sweet, you know what I mean?