Page 89 of So Much More
The heat rushing from my neck up my face reveals the answer I didn’t want to give, and Tonya tosses a piece of popcorn at me.
“Ha!” she says. “I knew Randall was holding out on us. You two are totally dating.”
Leslie sends me a shrewd look. We had this conversation in the car on the way to pick up the girls, so she knows I’m still not sure about the nature of the relationship. I’m also not about to tell his sisters what he did to make me question it.
“He and I have been friends for a while,” I finally say, “so we’re taking things slow.”
Sonya nods. “That makes sense.”
Tonya smacks her sister’s arm. “It does not. If anything, since they already know each other, that should help speed things along.”
“Think about it,” Sonya says to her. “Not only are Randall and Wendy friends, but his brother and her best friend are dating each other. If they don’t take it slow, they risk ruining their friendships not only with each other but also with Leslie and Ash. And Wendy has the most to lose, because if it came down to Leslie and Ash needing to pick sides, they’d have to go with Randall, since he’s family.”
I feel sick thinking about that possibility. Leslie has stuck with me so far, but we’ve only known each other all of two months, and she’s almost certainly going to marry Randall’s brother.
Leslie jumps in. “You’re partly right, Sonya, but not completely. I wouldn’t automatically pick Randall. Yes, he might be my family someday, but Wendy is like family to me, and I’m not going to drop her if things don’t work out with her and Randall. She’s my best friend, and no man is going to change that.”
The pressure in my chest eases with Leslie’s words, and I give her a grateful smile.
Tonya says, “Good for you, and to be honest, he’s the most likely one to mess things up anyway. If he did, I’d take Wendy’s side, too.”
Sonya’s eyes widen. “You wouldn’t.”
“Um, excuse me,” Tonya says, “but you’re offending the woman sitting right here in front of us who is also graciously giving up her weekend for us. If Randall hurts her—and let’s be honest, that’s not a far-fetched idea—I’m not siding with him only because he’s our brother.”
Sonya’s face drops, and she looks at me. “I’m sorry, Wendy.”
“Don’t be sorry about having family loyalty,” I tell her, and then I look at Tonya. “And I wouldn’t expect you to choose one of us over the other. If something happened between Randall and me that meant we wouldn’t be friends anymore, you could still be supportive of both of us if you wanted to. Of course, you’d probably rarely see me if that happened, but I’d never want you to feel like you needed to pick sides. If you did, though, I’d tell you to choose Randall every time, no matter what.”
“Even if he ends up being as terrible as Dad?” Tonya says.
“Tonya!” Sonya admonishes while tossing an entire handful of popcorn at her sister. “He’d never!”
Tonya buries her head in her hands. “I know. I was trying to make a point.”
“That was an awful way to make it. Randall is agoodman, and you know it.”
Tonya looks back up at us. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me, everyone. Can we talk about something else now?”
* * *
“Have you spent much time with Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton?” Leslie asks Melissa.
It’s Saturday afternoon, and the three of us are laying out in the sun on the small beach drinking margaritas while Tonya and Sonya ride the WaveRunners on the lake. I’m surprised Leslie brought up the topic, since we’re not supposed to mention the divorce, and this conversation could lead to speculation on Melissa’s part.
“Not a whole lot,” Melissa says. “I saw them at church and at school events when I was a kid, but I paid little attention to them. My general impression was that Mr. Hamilton was pompous and fake, and Mrs. Hamilton was a good woman but wasn’t to be trifled with. I’ve only seen them once since I moved back,” she gives Leslie a wry look, “when my parents and I had dinner at their house last month. Mrs. Hamilton was the most friendly and animated I’ve ever seen her while trying to get Ash and me to fall for each other. Mr. Hamilton spoke to nobody but my dad and occasionally his wife, and that was mostly to complain to her about something or to order her around.”
“Did she do what he said?” I can’t help but ask.
“No, but she didn’t make a big deal out of it. She simply brushed his comments off and started up a new conversation.”
To keepthisconversation from moving further into the topic of the Hamilton marriage, I say, “Melissa, thanks again for being my shoulder to cry on after the Randall debacle.”
“Not a problem,” she replies. “I was glad I could be there for you. How have things been with him the past couple weeks?”
After I give her the update, I ask, “Do you think I’m getting over what he did too soon?”
“I’ll admit, I’m a little surprised, but it’s not up to me to decide when and how you should forgive him and move past what happened. If this feels right to you, it doesn’t matter what anyone other than you and Randall think about it.”
