Quickly, I run down the ramp toward the neon sign that proclaims the location of the restrooms and skid to a stop before shoving through the door with the lady on it.
It’s empty—thank God—because whatever control I had before has flown the fucking coop in a hurry. I can feel the rivers left behind by the tears streaming down my cheeks, and a snot bubble is rearing its ugly head at the opening of my nostril.
I wipe at the unwanted fluid, but there’s a grittiness in my strokes that indicates my crying has taken on quite a bit of mascara debris as it’s progressed and my face is likely a Stage Four disaster.
I can’t stand to look in the mirror, though. The truth is, I can’t stand to face myself at all.
If I could, I wouldn’t be avoiding hashing out all of the dark thoughts in my mind with the help of well-meaning friends.
I stumble into the stall and fall to the floor, thanking the grace of God that this restaurant is a super-clean establishment. It’s still probably a little gross, but I’m wearing pants, and I’m in the midst of a crisis. A few bathroom floor germs are just going to have to happen.
All the emotions of the last two and a half weeks come crashing down around me like Niagara Falls. I’ve never actually seen the wonder of the national landmark, but I know it pumps out a shit-ton of water, and right now, so are my freaking eyes.
A sob catches hold of my body and bucks it violently, my cries renewing like I haven’t let any out at all. I don’t know what I’m going to have to do to get ahold of myself, but with the way my face almost definitely looks, I’m considering faking my death and leaving the shop to Brody just so I don’t have to face him and Nina again in this state.
“Oh, Carly.” I hear from behind me, Brody’s soft voice startling me so hard I bang my head against the cream-colored stall wall. Nina is behind him, and I watch—hazily, I admit, since my vision is pretty well blocked by my tears—as she puts a hand to her mouth in silent horror.
“I know!” I shout, slamming my head back into the stall wall again, this time with a meaningful thud. “I’m a fool! A fool I never in a million years thought I’d be, and yet here I am, blubbering in a damn bathroom like one of the characters on One Tree Hill.”
“Look at it this way,” Nina says supportively from her position behind Brody. “At least you’re in great company.”
Brody looks over his shoulder at her in question, and she shrugs.
“What? James Lafferty? Hot. Chad Michael Murray? Hot. Sophia Bush? Hot.”
“Okay,” Brody says with a laugh, turning back to me and putting a supportive hand to my knee. “I think we get it.”
He rubs the denim of my black jeans for a moment, letting me catch my breath in order to get my heaving sobs under control. When I finally find some semblance of heading back toward half-cocked, he ventures into the breach.
“What’s going on, Car? I don’t think I have to explain that this is a little out of the ordinary for you. We’re concerned. We want to help. Tell us what the hell happened under the bright skies of Florida.”
I shake my head, and he sighs. Taking off his sport coat and handing it to Nina, he shifts to the side, putting his back to the other side of the stall wall and scoots down to the floor to sit across from me. In a public restroom, for God’s sake.
Man, I picked some good friends.
“Is it your mom?”
I shake my head and breathe a sigh of my own, so not in the mood to go through a long, drawn-out version of the guessing game, it’s not even funny.
And since I don’t think Brody is going to leave without an answer, I may as well go ahead and get this shit off my chest.
“I…met someone.”
“In a retirement community?” Nina questions. “How-how old is he?”
I snort at her abject fear and shake my head. “Not old at all. Well, not retirement age anyway. He’s thirty-nine, and he was there to take care of his dad, who, incidentally, is dating my mom.”
“Dating your mom as in…”
“Yes, Sal. The man Stella is about to marry.”
“Okay, okay,” Brody mumbles, trying his best to suss out the situation. “And this is upsetting?”
I shake my head and sigh again, sinking my head into my hands. If I’m going to say this shit, there’s no way I can do it while looking them in the eyes.
“No. Well, yes. But not for the reason you think. I’m pretty sure I accidentally, kind of, sort of fell in love with the stupid sexy Barney Fife, and now he’s going to be my stepbrother! I can’t date my fucking brother, guys! So, it’s all a disaster!”