15 Minutes (Time for Love 4)

“First, put these on.” She pulled out a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt that said brunettes do it better. “You can’t have a pity party and man bash looking like that.”

“I don’t want to have a pity party,” I argued.

“Victoria … you do. Now put those on and I will get everything else set up,” Abigail countered. I watched as she pulled out Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill C.D., the movie The Way We Were, a bottle of wine, a box of peanut M&M’s, a bag of buttery popcorn, a pint of Chunky Monkey Ice Cream, and a box of tissue.

“What’s all that?” I asked, still not moving.

Abigail sighed, then picked up the C.D. in one hand, and the movie in the other.

“Every woman’s must-have, bad-ass, chick anthems, and proof that no matter how hot or perfect they may seem, all guys are assholes when it comes down to it.” Then she pointed to the rest. “And the junk food you need to consume while crying, and screaming about, said hot assholes.”

Then she looked pointedly to the sweats in my hand, then back at my face. I figured it would be easier to play along than to try and wrestle her out of my condo. The sweats were cozy, and the T-shirt totally soft, so I added some big fluffy socks to the outfit and walked back out to find my sister.

She had the popcorn popped, wine poured, and movie ready to begin.

I sat down on the couch. Abigail came over, picked up my legs, and turned me so my legs were laying up on the cushions. Then she covered me with a blanket, shoved her hands in my hair and messed it up, and handed me the box of tissues.

“You’re going to need these.”

And she was right. By the end of the movie I was a sobbing mess. The popcorn, M&M’s, and Chunky Monkey had been consumed, and I was cursing Robert Redford for being so selfish.

Abigail turned off the TV and turned to me.

“Are you ready to talk about Brock?” she asked.

My emotions were still so close to the surface that, surprisingly, I was. “He basically said I was too high maintenance and selfish to be able to help him through this. He’d just been in an accident, and I was so happy that he was okay. I was so scared, Abby, then so happy, and he caught me off-guard. I wanted to be there for him, and Brady and Brendan, and he didn’t want me. No one ever wants me.”

“First of all, that’s not true,” Abigail began, but I was on a roll, now that the damn had broken, so I wasn’t done.

“It is. They may like the way I look, and what I can do for them, but when it comes down to it, guys never think I’m worth the effort. I’m too much of a bitch.”

“Stop,” Abigail said, her voice firmer than I’d ever heard it, causing me to blink at her. “You’re starting to piss me off. We’re supposed to be bashing Brock, not you. You’re the whole package, Victoria. Beautiful, smart, and talented, with a kind and loyal heart. You know what you want, and sometimes guys just can’t handle that level of confidence.”

“But I thought Brock was different. He’s the opposite of any guy I’ve ever dated. He treated me like a woman, not like I was fragile. He got me to do things I never thought I would, and if I didn’t like something, then we didn’t do it. Did I ever tell you about the time he gave me a ride on his motorcycle?”

“Yeah, honey, and you’re right, Brock is different than the other guys you’ve dated. And although we’re here to have a little fun and work out your hurt, let me just say this one thing…” I nodded at her ser

ious expression, and she continued. “This situation with Brock is extreme. His parents died in a freak accident, then he was in a freak accident. His brothers, who are almost like his sons, were distraught, and the doctors told him there is a chance that he won’t walk again. It’s a totally fucked-up situation, so you have to understand that Brock wasn’t himself. I know that he hurt you by shutting you out, but when you’re ready, I want you to try and see that.”

“But…” I began, not wanting to listen to reason.

Abigail shook her head and stood, holding her hand out to me.

“No, just put a pin in it and think about it later, okay? Now, let’s commence with part two of the night. Alanis, and lot’s of wine.”

I took her hand as she turned on the C.D. When the first licks of guitar began, we both grinned, then began dancing madly around the room. By the time the C.D. was over, we’d consumed the bottle of wine she’d brought, as well as another.

We collapsed on the sofa, sweating and tired from dancing, and a bit fuzzy from the wine. I threw my hand out, catching hers and squeezing it tightly. I turned my head to look at her and said, “Thanks, Abigail. This was great.”

“Well, I am the expert on working through a broken heart, and I knew you’d be doing it all wrong,” she responded with a laugh, then her face turned serious. “You’re welcome. Now I want you to sleep it off, then wake up tomorrow and put this shit away. No more hiding in here. You’ve got a job now, so I’m sure you can stay busy and get back on track.”

I nodded, as my mind raced to figure out what I needed to do.

“I’ll call Gwen in the morning, have her meet me at O’Malley’s to finish up. She said she’d bring her camera and help me build a portfolio. Once I have that, I can start looking for more work.”

“Sounds like a good start,” Abigail said with a smile. “You want me to stay?”

“Yeah,” I replied softly.