Page 19 of Flat-Out Love


  “So you haven’t dated since… you know? Celeste. The Flat Finn stuff.”

  “Not much. I had a pretty serious girlfriend, but then…” Matt faltered. He was serious now, his face tense and uncomfortable. “Things changed around here.”

  “With Celeste?”

  Matt nodded.

  Julie thought about her talk with Professor Cooley. “When something happened?”

  Matt nodded again.

  “I’m sorry,” Julie said. “Because whatever it is, I can tell that you’re dealing with it, too. Maybe someday you’ll want to tell me about it.”

  “Maybe someday,” Matt agreed. “And my girlfriend at the time wasn’t interested in staying together. Not everyone can tolerate my life. This house.”

  “I love Celeste, but she’s hurting you, isn’t she?”

  “Don’t say that. I would sell my soul for my sister.”

  “I know you would.” Julie knew she had to be careful here, or Matt would shut down again. “But you must be angry with Finn for leaving. For making whatever happened to Celeste worse.”

  “I am angry at Finn.”

  “He has a right to his life, Matt.”

  “Believe me, I know he does.”

  “Do you two usually get along?”

  “We used to. And then… we didn’t. Mostly because of the issues with my mother, he was always the hero. That wasn’t easy for me, I guess.”

  “Celeste thinks you’re a hero. Don’t you see how she looks at you? She adores you.”

  “Not the way she adores Finn. It’s different. I do the boring stuff. I get her to school, feed her, help her with homework, worry about her. I’m no Finn, that’s for sure. He’s never given a crap about real life. He cares about fun and horsing around. When my mother was away—that’s what we call it, away—Finn entertained Celeste, got her laughing, made her wild and free like him. I took care of what needed to be done, and he got all the credit. That’s how it’s always been.”

  “You don’t sound like you like Finn all that much.”

  “On the contrary. He’s incredible. He’s vivacious and relaxed and unrestrained. Finn gets to do everything I don’t, and I envy him.”

  “So Celeste used to be more like Finn?” Julie asked.

  “She did,” Matt said softly.

  “I think she’s doing better, don’t you? A little bit? She pitched a fit because I couldn’t find the second season of Glee the other day. I think that’s a good sign.”

  “What is Glee?”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s a good thing. And she’s asking for trendy clothes for Christmas and wants me to take her shopping, too.”

  “So she’s becoming devoid of individuality? Exactly what I hoped for.”

  “Shut up. These are good things. Flat Finn is getting another round of hinges in a few weeks. Celeste gave me the go-ahead. Matty, don’t you see how much she needs to fit in and needs friends? Can you imagine how desperately lonely she must be?”

  “I can.” Matt sighed. “You’re probably better for her than I am.”

  “But you do really important stuff. She needs someone like you to take care of her. Your mother is…having a hard time, too, I think.”

  Matt nodded. “I know. She is having a horrible time. Both my parents are. Why do you think she and my father are out of the house so much? They can’t stand to be here.” Matt ran his hands through his hair. “Julie, I’m tired. I don’t want to be Celeste’s parent. I can’t.”

  Neither of them said anything for a few minutes.

  Finally Julie spoke. “Gee, this lying under the tree routine is really turning out to be fun, isn’t it? Aren’t you glad you’re here?”

  “It has exceeded my expectations.”

  “OK, let’s talk about girls again.”

  “You’re interested in girls? I had no idea. I thought you were dating that Seth character.”

  “You’re a riot, Matt. Really. And for your information, Seth and I broke up.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “I’ve moved on. Sort of. I don’t know what’s going on. I have a crush.”

  Matt rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. My brother?”

  “How did you know?” Julie was surprised.

  “Let’s see? Could it be the way you go on and on about how fabulously interesting and entertaining he is? How you check your phone for mail every three minutes? Surreptitious, you’re not.”

  “Well, fine. So what? Anyway, we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about your floundering love life. Call Dana.”

  “I don’t have time for a relationship.”

  “That’s ridiculous. There’s always time if you want it. Don’t you need a little romance in your life, Matty?” Julie nudged his shoulder with her hand.

  He laughed. “I like when you call me Matty. It’s… cute.”

  “Cute? That’s the word you came up with? With that abnormally large brain of yours, I’d think you could do better than cute.”

  “The smell from the candles sucked all the smart out of me.”

  “Good. Then you’re too dumb now to protest. I’ll give you Dana’s number, and you’ll call her and take her out to dinner.”

  “No.”

  “I’ll bribe you then.” Julie scooted forward until her body was out from under the tree and sat up. “What if I give you your Christmas present now?”

  “No,” he said again from under the branches.

  Julie took his feet in her hands and pulled him out. “It’s a good present. Presents, actually. Trust me.”

  “Yeah?” Matt smiled. “OK, you have a deal.”

  “Yay!” Julie clapped her hands together. She retrieved Matt’s gift from the small pile she had set downstairs a few days earlier and handed him the soft package. “Now, since I’m on a student budget, it’s nothing extravagant. It’s the thought that counts, though, right?”

  “If the thought is cash, then, yes.”

  “Matthew!”

  “Kidding, kidding.” Matt gently undid the green ribbon and removed the red paper. He looked at the two presents and beamed, pretending to wipe away a tear as he lifted up the first T-shirt. “Han Solo in carbonite,” he stated. He lifted up the other shirt, a red one with a picture of a two-stick Popsicle being divided. “Please don’t separate us. We share vital organs,” he read. “They’re perfect. I knew you’d come around to the shirts.”

  “I have not come around to the shirts, but holidays are not about trying to change people into having decent, or even acceptable, taste. Besides, I was fighting a losing battle.”

  “Do you want yours now? Since you’re leaving in a few days?”

  “Right. California.” Julie nodded in agreement. “I’m going to California.”

  “You’ll have a lot of time with your father. It should be an incredible trip.”

  “Yes, it should,” Julie said. “Wine country, Hollywood, beaches, fancy hotels, gourmet meals. My father will want to hear every single thing about college and my life. I’ll probably be so sick of talking about myself by the end that I’ll need a vacation from my vacation!” Julie didn’t know why she was lying to Matt, but every part of her was stubbornly refusing to tell him the truth. “So, yes, yes, yes! I want my present now!”

  “Greedy, aren’t you?” he teased. He reached behind him and opened a drawer in one of the small end tables. He handed Julie a red envelope with her name written on the front.

  She opened it and impulsively screamed, causing Matt to throw one hand over her mouth and shush her with the other. “Everyone is asleep!” he said, trying not to laugh.

  “But you got me a Dunkin’ Donuts gift card that will last me for the rest of my college career! How can I not scream? Matty!” She flung her arms around his neck. “You’re so sweet!” She sat back down on her knees. “And now you have to call Dana. You promised.”

  “I guess I did,” he said sighing.

  “She’s going home for a few weeks, but she’ll be back right aft
er the holidays. Isn’t this great? We’re both starting the New Year with romance. Or at least the possibility of romance.”

  Matt looked at her. “That would be nice.”

  Chapter 22

  Matthew Watkins thinks the prefrontal lobes are amazing. But then again, it's his prefrontal lobes that enable him to think that, so who knows?

  Finn is God See? I told you that was fun! Now, let’s go find your eye.

  Julie Seagle Little-known fact: After his promotion, Rudolph became insufferable. The following year, he was the star of a lesser-known and little-loved Xmas special about humility and not forgetting one's "roots."

  Julie realigned the silverware and took a sip of sparkling water from her glass. It was New Year’s Eve, so the restaurant was totally full, of course, and it was fun being in downtown Boston with this festive crowd. She checked the hostess stand again to see if her father had arrived. She had emailed him to say that she would be wearing a shimmery pink top and a black skirt, and that she would have her hair up the way he liked, so he could pick her out in the crowd in an instant. She had so much to tell her father, and she craned her neck to see over the people next to her. Any minute he would be here. It was quarter of nine, fifteen minutes past their reservation time. Hopefully he hadn’t had trouble trying to get a taxi from the airport.

  So far winter break had been pretty dreary, but tonight would change all that. It wasn’t a three-week trip, but the fact that her father was coming to Boston just to have dinner with her meant something. It had also meant that she’d spent the past week holed up alone in Dana’s apartment while she and her roommate were gone for break, which, while somewhat boring, hadn’t been too awful. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day had not been great, to be honest, although as an only child, Julie had learned to be pretty good at entertaining herself. Granted, this had been more like hiding out than actual entertainment, but she hadn’t had a choice. And she felt sort of shady for lying to her mother and the whole Watkins family about not going to California. Still, that had been easier than getting them to understand what had happened.

  At least Finn had been around a lot recently, so they’d been in touch more than ever. She’d had to provide him with fake descriptions of how beautiful the vineyard hotel was and make up details about the extravagant sushi dinner she’d supposedly had the other night, neither of which had felt very good. She wondered what he was doing tonight. He was in Cape Verde working with a turtle conservation group, and he’d sent her pictures of the animals he was helping save from extinction. He and the other volunteers were living on the beach in tents and cooking all of their meals and washing clothes with limited facilities. While this sounded like hell to Julie, he was loving it.

  She pulled out her phone and reread the last few Facebook messages she had from him. Occasionally he headed into town to local restaurants, and she had learned that he was not a fan of the local specialty. “Goat cheese” and “goat and cheese” are not the same thing. Learn from my mistakes. Always read the menus carefully, Julie. The next one said, Goat meat this, goat meat that. Barf. Screw the turtles! Based on such high consumption rates, it seems that we’ll need to establish a Goat Conservation Group soon.

  Julie scanned the room again. It’s OK. He wasn’t that late.

  It was almost midnight where Finn was. Maybe next year they’d be together for the holiday? She had written countless messages suggesting they talk on the phone and deleted them all. It just seemed too intense, and the possibility for awkwardness was too great. She understood now why Celeste didn’t want to talk to him herself until he came home. It was probably better to wait. This online business was good for now. Thank God he wasn’t set up to video chat. Ugh. Seeing him for the first time would be nerve-wracking enough.

  So next New Year’s might bring a long, sensuous midnight kiss. Sometimes when they were talking online, she got this strange vibe. Like she could actually sense him, that she knew what it was like to be with him in person.

  Julie stopped herself from going down that road. It was ridiculous. For all she knew, Finn was a horrible, disgusting, messy kisser. They might have no chemistry whatsoever. This silly online game might mean nothing other than foolish flirting.

  But she didn’t think so.

  Neither did Finn, apparently, who messaged her just then.

  Almost midnight here. Missing you. Did you get my present yet? I’ve been waiting for you to find it, but evidently you do not look in the zipped pocket inside your purse very often. Or you hated it. Or Matt screwed up and tucked it in our mother’s purse. How repulsively Oedipal. (Uh-oh. Hope Dad is OK…)

  Julie nearly dropped her phone as she yanked her purse from the back of the chair. Quickly she fumbled through the messy bag, vowing to clean out all the junk as soon as she got home. A piece of red tissue paper poked out from the pocket. Julie gently took the present in her hand and opened it.

  It was beautiful. She lifted the thin cord in her hand and admired the purple stone tied at the end. It was jagged and uneven, but not sharp. She immediately pulled the necklace over her head and held the stone in one hand, while she wrote Finn back with the other.

  I don’t know what to say. It’s gorgeous. Perfect. I absolutely love it, and I won’t take it off. I wanted to get you something, but you keep moving around!

  Julie stared at the screen, waiting for his reply. She couldn’t help getting chills every time a new message popped up.

  You’ve already given me enough. Hey, check out the fireworks! It’s midnight here!

  He must be using a borrowed phone with a camera, because he’d attached an awesome picture of the Cape Verde New Year’s celebration. She opened the picture Finn had sent and wished more than anything that she was there with him, standing next to the ocean and watching fireworks explode over the water. It was cheesy and cliché, but romantic nonetheless. Next year, she promised herself. Next year they would be together. She was patient and knew that Finn was worth waiting for. He couldn’t be gone forever.

  She caught sight of a tall man who stood behind a couple at the hostess stand. Finally!

  Gorgeous! Have to run. I think my dad is here. About to have five-course dinner. No goat, though. You around tomorrow?

  Finn wrote back:

  Yup, fireworks are indeed gorgeous, although I can think of other things I’d rather be doing at midnight. And they don’t involve goats. I’ll be here.

  Julie tossed her phone into her purse and then stretched her arm up, squinting as she waved. Oh. That wasn’t her father.

  The server appeared, refilled her water glass for what felt like the millionth time, and gave her a sympathetic look.

  “I’m sure that traffic is a nightmare. He’ll be here soon,” Julie said, as much to herself as to the server.

  But he wasn’t there soon. An hour after their reservation time, Julie called him. She never called her father. Never. There was an unspoken rule that his phone was for business only. Besides, he wasn’t the type that liked to get all chatty on the phone anyway. Their conversations were always stilted and slightly uncomfortable, filled with lots of background noise from wherever he was. Julie would blather on for a while with her father saying, “Yes,” or “Interesting,” when appropriate. From what she remembered, talking in person was better.

  But now she had to try his cell. She let it ring until his voice mail picked up and then tried him right back. Still voice mail. Julie stared at the two untouched glasses of champagne on the table, their bubbles still rising festively. Not every table had the tall cooler keeping the bottle cold, and her father had obviously called ahead and arranged for this pre-midnight champagne. She took a few deep breaths and tried to relax.

  Twenty minutes later, she checked the time again. He was now officially hideously late. Julie picked up the glass of now-warm champagne and drank half of it. She scrolled through her contact list and found her father’s secretary’s number. Julie was not a drinker, and so by the time Andrea answered, she could already fee
l the alcohol in her system.

  “Hi. It’s Julie Seagle here. Sorry to bother you,” she said.

  “Julie! How are you? Happy New Year!”

  “I’m fine. It’s just that I’m at dinner waiting for my dad, and he’s well over an hour late. Do you know if there was trouble with his flight to Boston?”

  “Oh, Julie.” Andrea was quiet for a moment. “Honey, didn’t he let you know?”

  “Let me know what?”

  “He’s not in Boston.”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “He’s in New York. He was supposed to call you. Don’t tell me that he forgot.”

  Julie picked up the glass of champagne and finished it off. “He most definitely forgot. You know what? It’s more than just forgetting, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know what… I’m sure he meant to—”

  “No. No, he didn’t. We both know that he just doesn’t give a shit. And that’s that. So now I’m sitting here at this stupid, pretentious, overpriced restaurant, and I’m hungry and pissed off and have no way to pay for this bottle of champagne that I plan to finish drinking.”

  “I’ll call the restaurant and have that taken care of. I made the reservation, so I know where you are.”

  Julie remained expressionless as she held the phone between her ear and her shoulder and refilled her glass. “Thanks, Andrea. Have a good night.” She went to hang up and then stopped. “And tell my father he’s an asshole. Tell him I’m done.” She dropped the phone onto the table. “And there you have it, folks,” she said softly.

  Within a few minutes the server reappeared. “I understand you’ll be dining alone this evening.”

  Julie nodded and looked up at the man by the table. He was about her father’s age and he smiled kindly at her. She nodded. Yes, she would be eating alone.

  “Your meal is paid for, and we’ll arrange for a cab for you when you’re ready. Have you decided what you’d like to eat?”