Three reasons to run, p.7
Three Reasons to Run, page 7
“Carl doesn’t have to know. I assume you’re not looking for a relationship?”
“Definitely not.”
“So?”
She makes it sound easy, but I’ve never slept with someone I’m not dating. I don’t know how I’d bring it up. Besides…
“He’s not my type,” I say, though it feels like a lie now.
“Are you sure? Your face looks a little flushed.”
“Because I’m not used to talking about sex!”
Shauna smirks, and I realize with a jolt that it’s been a while since she’s teased me…and I missed it.
“Tell me what your type is, then,” she says. “Maybe I know someone.”
“My type has hair.”
Leo shaves his head. It’s not something I’ve ever been particularly attracted to before.
Or now. I’m not attracted to him now, either.
Okay, perhaps I should stop lying to myself. When I think of him sitting across from me on the patio and scowling at the sun—he’d graciously given me the chair that was shaded—there’s an odd stirring in my belly. He’s rather handsome. In the past, I’ve been drawn to men who were more polished, but there’s something compelling about him.
Will you feed me sugar cubes and see what happens? He’d asked it with a ghost of a smile. I don’t think he’d meant for me to think of his lips on my fingers, but I did. It flustered me, though I think I hid it well.
And now, I’m picturing his head between my thighs. I can’t seem to help it.
“Whatever my feelings,” I say, pushing those images aside, “I’m sure he doesn’t think of me like that.”
“He stayed with you after you ran.”
“Because he’s nice and friendly. And probably felt bad about my collision with his car, even if it was my fault.”
Except Leo doesn’t have a particularly “friendly” vibe.
“Why was he driving you around today?” Shauna asks.
“I asked him to go out for brunch.”
“Interesting that you asked him…and he agreed.”
“Like I told you,” I say feebly, “he’s friendly.”
“Mm.” She raises her eyebrows.
Okay, we need to stop talking about Leo Mok.
“For the rest of today, I’m all yours,” I tell Shauna. “And I promise, I won’t grow distant on you again. I know you might not believe me right now, and that’s okay.”
“You’ve gotta make it up to me.”
“How can I do that?”
“You have to do whatever I say for Halloween. Bring me your dress and let me make your costume, and then we’re going to whatever party I decide.”
Usually, I think months and years in advance, but in the past week, I’ve had to take everything one day at a time. Halloween seems impossibly far away, even if it’s only two months. Still, I’m happy to plan this much.
I pull the veil out of my purse. “I’ll bring you the dress next time.”
“Why were you carrying around your wedding veil?”
“I left it in Leo’s car, and he returned it to me today.” So much for not talking about Leo. “He’s still taking care of my snake plant, though, because he was afraid she wouldn’t like the hot car.”
“Yeah, I’m sure this boy is just being friendly.”
The fact that she calls him a “boy” makes me giggle.
“So, what do you want to do now?” Shauna asks.
I used to struggle when she asked this question. When it came to the big things, I was always thinking of what others wanted for me, but even for smaller things, it could be hard. I wanted to please other people.
I try to set that aside. This is a new phase in my life.
“Let’s go to the mall.”
Yes, it’s a new phase in my life, and I’m celebrating that by doing something I would have done back when I was a young teenager.
It’s been a little while since I last went to a mall—any mall—and probably a decade since I went to this one. Though a few of the stores I remember are here, a lot of them have changed, and the mall looks like it’s seen better days. I still manage to find a nice shirt, one that I never would have bought in high school—like many teens, I was uncomfortable with my body, and besides, my parents wouldn’t have approved—but I also wouldn’t have bought it even just a few months ago. It’s bright and clingy. Too clingy to hide the fact that my stomach isn’t flat, but who cares? I shouldn’t think of that as a flaw.
After the mall, we pick up a pizza and take it back to Shauna’s, where we watch movies and drink wine. I’m definitely not on my pre-wedding diet anymore.
“You want to stay over?” she asks.
For a split second, I feel like I have to ask my parents for permission…but I’m twenty-nine, and my dad’s not even speaking to me. I don’t need permission, though I do text Lynne so she doesn’t worry about me.
“You can stay in Bà’s old room,” Shuana says. “No need to sleep on my floor.”
We’re halfway through Ever After and most of the way through the wine when my phone buzzes three times. I pick it up and see a photo of my sister holding a small bundle in her arms.
“Oh my God!” I shriek. “Tracey had her baby.”
“What?” Shauna pauses the movie. “Hold on. Your sister was pregnant?”
“Yeah. I only found out last week. Our parents don’t know, so don’t tell anyone.”
She mimes zipping her mouth, and we look at the picture of my sister and my nephew. I can’t believe I have a nephew! He’s wrinkly and funny-looking—I’ve never been particularly enamored with newborns—but a wave of fondness washes over me.
And then I read the words.
They’re already home from the hospital. He was born two days ago.
My happiness is tempered by irritation that she didn’t tell me sooner—this is my sister!—but I shouldn’t be annoyed. Even if she was good to me on what was supposed to be my wedding day, we’re not close, and I can’t help the ache in my chest. I long to have more of a sisterly bond with her, and while I can’t change our past, I can do better going forward. I won’t be pushy; I’ll respect her choices.
ME: Congrats!! Does he have a name yet?
TRACEY: Still figuring it out
ME: Let me know if you need anything.
ME: I can bring you food or pick up something from the store.
ME: Or do laundry.
I don’t expect her to take me up on any of that, and I don’t ask to see him as soon as possible. I want her to have time to get settled at home.
But I do look forward to meeting him.
It’s almost midnight, and I’m in Shauna’s grandmother’s old room. As a teenager, I saw more of her than I did of Shauna’s mom and dad, who were often working. But her grandma would cook for us and ask me questions in broken English. When she passed away in 2020, I attended the online funeral.
I desperately want to sleep, but my mind refuses to be quiet. It’s constantly jumping from one thing to another. From the time we tried to teach Bà to use Google, to the time I asked Tracey why she left her school projects to the night before. (She told me to fuck off and got in trouble.) I picture Lindsay Lohan dressed as a zombie bride in Mean Girls—the first movie we watched tonight—and I wonder what I’ll look like at Halloween.
Between Lynne, Howie, Leo, and Shauna, I’ve had little time to myself today, and I don’t like being alone with my thoughts now. I pick up my phone and text Leo. You up?
When he replies, not ten seconds later, I smile.
LEO: yes
ME: I can’t sleep
LEO: My old bedroom not treating you well?
ME: I didn’t know it used to be your room, but I’m not there tonight. Still at Shauna’s. Thanks again for the ride.
LEO: you’re welcome
ME: What are you up to?
There’s no response for a while, and just when I’m about to set my phone aside, I receive a photo of a tablet. On the tablet is a drawing of Francine.
I shouldn’t read too much into it. Artists draw all sorts of things. Still lifes of fruit, for example. Earlier today, I came across a nice painting of a Tim Hortons cup and donut online.
Yet for some reason, I’m tickled that Leo drew a picture of my plant, that he spent more than three seconds looking at her.
ME: OMG. That’s beautiful. Do you often draw houseplants?
LEO: No. I don’t have any of my own. I’ll bring Francine back on Tuesday.
ME: No rush. You don’t have to make a trip just for that.
LEO: I’m not. My mom invited us over for dinner.
I assume “us” means him and his brothers, and I’m more excited than I should be at the idea of seeing Leo again. My face flames as I think of my conversation with Shauna.
I shove those thoughts out of my mind as I look at the picture of my new nephew. I don’t need to be having inappropriate thoughts about Carl’s cousin when there are more important things to care about.
Yvonne’s Search History
Lindsay Lohan filmography
variegated monstera
watermelon peperomia
pottery classes Toronto
apartments Toronto
average price apartment Toronto
tips for finding affordable apartment
why are search results so bad these days
why am I attracted to my ex’s cousin
Chapter 11
Leo
My plans to pull back from Yvonne were blown apart when I got home from brunch on Saturday and realized I’d missed a call from my mother, inviting me for dinner in a few days. I didn’t have a good excuse to decline, so I said I’d come.
Besides, I have to return Francine at some point.
I walk up the path to the house and open the door. I’m momentarily taken aback when I step inside and Yvonne is right there.
“Hi!” she says.
We stare at each other for an awkward moment.
Goddammit. I swear there’s more, for lack of a better word, sparkle each time I see her. Not getting married looks good on her. Her hair is partially pulled back, and she’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Nothing fancy, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to plant a kiss on those pink lips.
Goddammit.
“Evan, Max, and Kim are already here,” she says. “I’m just helping your dad in the kitchen. You can take Francine upstairs to my room—I mean, your old room.”
I nod before slipping off my shoes and ascending the stairs. I set Francine on the small desk in the bedroom, and next to her, I place a small wrapped gift.
“What’s that?” Max is standing in the doorway.
I suddenly feel ridiculous. I just wrapped it because I thought Yvonne would enjoy unwrapping a gift. Since all the wrapping paper in my closet had either snowmen or reindeer, I needed to buy something new. I shouldn’t have been so pleased when I found paper with potted plants on it at Shoppers—I might have even smiled—but I was.
“A picture frame.” Not a lie. Underneath that wrapping paper is a frame…with the drawing I did of Francine. I printed it out yesterday. “Yvonne said she needed one.”
“Hmm.” Max crosses his arms over his chest.
My eldest brother is five years older than me and five inches taller. I can’t say we’re super close, but we get along fine. He’s usually serious and composed, but I can’t help thinking of what happened at our cousin Mirabel’s wedding in July. Max encountered Kim, with whom he’d had a not-so-spectacular one-night stand, and got wasted. I’d never seen him drunk like that before, and I stupidly thought it would be the right time to fess up about my silly crush. I felt the need to tell someone, and I figured there was no way he’d remember.
He didn’t forget, though. He mentioned it the next morning when he was hungover.
But everything seems to have worked out with Kim, based on the fact that she’s here tonight.
“What’s happening between you and Yvonne?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I reply.
“Are you glad she didn’t get married?”
“She seems happy…so, yes.”
He raises an eyebrow. “She just got out of a serious relationship.”
“I’m aware,” I say dryly.
“She’s in a vulnerable place. Don’t take advantage—”
“What the hell?” I explode. Then I drop my voice. “She asked me to take care of her plant, so I did. She asked me to help move her stuff, so I did. She wanted to have brunch—”
“You had brunch together?”
“It was her idea, like I said. I’ve never touched her.” Aside from backing her up against the wall…
Max raises an eyebrow again.
“I never should have told you,” I mutter, “but don’t worry, I understand nothing can happen. I don’t need two engineering degrees to know that.”
His face softens—as much as Max’s face can soften. “I wouldn’t say nothing can ever happen, but it certainly can’t happen now, when she’s trying to get her life in order,” he says before heading downstairs.
I’m surprised he doesn’t consider a cousin’s ex permanently off-limits, and his words give me a foolish glimmer of hope.
I promptly squash it.
“Don’t tell Yvonne about that conversation, okay?” I murmur to Francine.
“I hear you’re looking for an apartment.” Evan reaches for the noodles.
“I am,” Yvonne says. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll find anything for September; the market is terrible. But hopefully, I’ll get a place for October.” She raises her chopsticks to her lips, and even that simple motion looks graceful when she does it.
“I’ll ask around, see if anyone has any leads.”
“That would be great. Thank you.”
I glare at my food, feeling a weird sort of jealousy. It’s not like helping Yvonne is my job.
After we finish eating and clearing the table, Kim brings out the small cake that she brought for dessert. She’s about to start cutting it when the doorbell rings.
“It’s probably the kid behind us,” Dad says. “He sometimes kicks the ball over the fence and into our yard. Can you get it, Leo?”
I head to the front door. Before I can get there, the doorbell rings again. I guess the kid really is impatient to get his ball back, but he hasn’t even given us a chance to answer.
I’m a little irritated as I swing open the door, but I try not to look it, reminding myself that it’s just a kid and I might have done the same thing at his age.
But the person standing on the doorstep isn’t a child.
It’s my aunt.
“Is she here?” Auntie Gladys demands.
“Who?” I ask, but I know the answer.
Before I can stop her, she marches inside without bothering to remove her shoes.
Chapter 12
Yvonne
“Ha!” Carl’s mom points a finger at me. “She is here. My sources were right.”
Sources. Like she’s some kind of reporter.
“How could you do this to me?” Gladys turns to Lynne.
“Why are you blaming her?” Howie says genially, stepping between the two of them. “It’s my house, too.”
“How could you let her do this?”
“It’s not like we’re harboring a fugitive. Yvonne just decided she didn’t want to get married.”
I hate being the cause of drama. When I was a kid, it was Tracey who caused drama while I watched from the sidelines, occasionally feeling a bit smug. But if I’d learned to stick up for myself when I was younger, I wouldn’t be in this mess now.
I step toward the woman who almost became my mother-in-law. “I apologize. This is my fault, and I will take responsibility for it. I should have called it off earlier, rather than rushing from the altar.”
“You call that an apology?” she says.
I press on. “Lynne and Howie have been very kind to let me stay here while I look for an apartment. I didn’t have many options. Please don’t be mad at them.”
Gladys sniffs. “You know how embarrassing it was? I’ll have to find a new church!”
“I’m sorry.” I look down. “I really do feel badly for the fallout, but I just couldn’t go through with it.”
When I dare to look up, she’s glaring daggers at me, and for a split second, I wonder if I made a mistake.
I picture being back in that apartment with Carl. Picking up after him. Shoving down my frustration when he made decisions without asking for my input…except for the wedding. That was all on me.
The thought makes me cringe.
If only I’d called off the wedding when I found out he was cheating, then at least we would have gotten some of the money back. Gladys might still have felt embarrassed, but not like this. Howie and Lynne wouldn’t have been dragged into it.
Maybe I should tell Gladys that her precious son cheated on me, but it’s against my instincts to air that sort of dirty laundry. I also fear that, like my own mother, she simply wouldn’t care. It’s just the way men are. Gladys always makes excuses for Carl, and I expect she’d continue to do so.
I glance at Leo. His hand is clenched at his side. I will my cheeks not to turn pink as all my inappropriate thoughts about him return.
“Would you like some cake?” Howie asks his sister-in-law. He speaks pleasantly, pretending to be oblivious to the tension in the room. “Kim brought it. It looks very good.”
“I’m the reason that Max has a girlfriend.” Gladys points to herself. “This is—”
“Okay, that’s enough.” Howie leads her out of the dining room.
