by S. K. Lessly
I gave him a small smile once I opened the door. He was dressed in a white fitted t-shirt, tan cargo pants and a tan cap. I unlocked the sliding glass door and opened it for him. I didn’t wait for him to come inside. I quickly turned around and headed back into the dimly lit living room. I plopped back on the couch and resumed my slouched position just as he took off his cap and placed it on the stool next to him.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He came and sat next to me on the couch.
I shook my head nothing while trying to shake away the emotions.
“Babe, I can see it all over your face. The unshed tears in your eyes are a dead giveaway. Talk to me. What’s going on?” Paul caressed my cheek and I could feel said unshed tears about to tumble down my cheeks. That couldn’t happen.
I finally gathered my emotions, deciding to spill my guts and said softly, “I’m sort of missing my family. Crazy I know, considering I was the one that walked out.”
Paul reached for my hand and laced his fingers through mine. He brought my hand up to his lips and brushed them against my knuckles. “I can see why you would. Are you thinking about going to see them?”
I looked over at him and shook my head. I sat up and without letting his hand go, handed him a large envelope. I watched him lift the flap of the envelope up and take out the portrait of my family. He held it up so the both of us could see.
Everyone was dressed in hunter green and white, with the guys dressed in green polo shirts and tan pants and the women dressed in all white. My parents were sitting in the middle of the group photo, with my brothers and brother-in-law in the back and my sister and sisters-in-law standing in front of their significant others on either side of my parents. My nieces and nephews were placed on the floor, sitting in front of my parents. Everyone looked like one big happy family. Where was I you asked? Well that was a good fucking question.
Paul silently reviewed the large photo for a minute then he looked over at me.
He smiled and shook his head.
“What?” I asked.
“I can tell who everyone is just by your descriptions.”
I leaned close to him, hugged his arm and rested my head against him.
“Show me.”
Paul released my hand and pointed to the picture. “Well, clearly, this stiff gentleman is William, or rather Brian. I can tell he seems to have something stuck up his ass.”
I laughed and snuggled closer to him.
“So, if that’s Brian, then this guy must be the perv.” Paul pointed to my sister’s husband, tall dark-skin guy a few inches shorter than Brian, with short hair and beady brown eyes. He was standing next to Brian looking like the asshole he was.
“And she’s your sister of course, I can see the resemblance.” He looked over at me as he pointed to Janet. “I can also see where you and your sister get your looks from, you mom is beautiful.” I smiled and he looked back at the picture, “and that’s, what’s her name, Hillary?” He pointed to the hoe-bag and I nodded. “And I can tell this happy fellow is Mark and the woman in front of him is his wife.”
Tell me who these little guys are sitting in front of your parents. These are your nieces and nephews, right? They're adorable and looked to be well behaved.” I snorted a laugh and wiped a finger underneath my eyes.
“Well behaved, I doubt that. They probably bribed the hellions.”
“Yeah? Tell me more.”
I sniffed and told him a few stories about my babies. It was painful because I realized what my stubbornness did to myself and my family. I missed them like crazy. They weren't perfect but they were mine.
I fell silent after I told Paul about the time Will Jr stopped up the toilet when he took my dad expensive fish out of the tank saying he was freeing them like the fish on Finding Nemo. That day was hilarious. I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe. My father and brother didn’t find it funny, of course. Some of the fish he had in the tank were rare. But you had to give it to the kid, he was thoughtful.
I smiled at the fond memory and rested my head against the back of the couch. I closed my eyes and thought back to the last time me and my family were together. The argument and cluster fuck of an exit. I felt Paul’s eyes on me and I opened mine to see that he turned his body to face me, his arm resting on the back or the couch.
“Tell me what happened that day?”
Paul had asked me a few times about what happened at my parent’s home that made me turn around and come back home, but I would always deflect his questions. This time I didn’t. I told him what happened from the time I stepped foot in that house to when I left.
To Paul’s credit he managed to stay very quiet. The parts of my story where I thought he would reply or get angry, he looked passive. When I was done with my tale, he sighed heavily and leaned back on the couch. He didn’t look at me and I suddenly felt ashamed for the first time in forever.
Feeling like I needed to explain myself, I said, “Look, I know I wasn’t the victim here. I instigated everything but I was just so mad you know. All that stuff he was saying about me made me so angry.”
I waited for a reaction from him and again I got nothing.
I started to panic and when that happened, it seemed that I was unable to keep my mouth shut.
“Okay, I was wrong as shit for hitting him. I mean, I regretted it later I really did, and I know I shouldn’t have let him get to me. But Paul, it was like his words were like fists to my gut. He kept hitting me while I was down. Do you understand? Like I was weak and…” I trailed off realizing how silly I sounded, even to myself. I stopped talking and slouched further into the couch. I could feel my eyes welling up again and this time I let a few tears fall down my cheeks. It was crazy how Paul’s silence alone was making me feel horrible.
“Let’s get outta here.” He said finally.
I sniffed. “And go where?”
He didn’t answer my question. He just barked his orders, something I wasn’t used to hearing from him.
“Lauren, go get dressed.”
I wanted to be argumentative like I typically was, and tell him where he could shove his bossiness, but for some strange reason I didn’t cuss his ass out. I actually obeyed his wishes. I stood, giving him a quick nod, and made my way to the steps.
I wasn’t sure where we were going so, I threw on a pair of skinny jeans, a white short-sleeve cotton hi-low shirt and a pair of maroon wedges, just to be safe. I washed my face, brushed my teeth and combed my hair into a ponytail. I grabbed my black Michael Kors mini backpack I carried today to work and made my way down stairs. Unsure what the temp was outside, I grabbed a short, thin black leather jacket, from the front closet, just in case, and followed Paul out of my house.
About twenty minutes later, we were driving along the Garden State Parkway in my car. I started to ask where we were going, again, but stopped when I noticed we were heading for the city that never sleeps.
He was silent the entire drive to Manhattan and I let him. I was sure whatever he was thinking about wasn’t going to be good for me. I hadn’t been the type to care about what other people thought of me, outside of my family. I gave zero fucks if people liked me, wanted to talk to me, or gave a shit about me. I learned to have a thick skin because of the household I grew up in. But sitting here in silence with Paul was driving me crazy. For some obscene reason, I cared about what he thought of me.
Knowing that Paul wouldn’t talk to me until he was ready, I leaned back in the soft leather cushion of my seat, and reflected on my actions. I could be a little reckless, and immature, and selfish at times, I knew this fact about myself. I wasn’t proud of those characteristics, but there it was. Ever since that day at my parent’s house, I constantly battled with rather I did the right thing clocking Brian. At the time, I felt like he deserved what he got. He was baiting me and he knew what would happen. What I felt badly about was how I left everything. Telling my parents, I was dead to them was completely over the top. And maybe I was mellow dramatic, but the bad part ab
out all of this was, I couldn’t take any of it back.
I looked over at Paul and tried to figure out just how pissed he was at me. I noticed his jaw was set, tensed. His fingers gripped the steering wheel hard and his lips were set in a thin line. Yeah… he looked really pissed.
I sighed and closed my eyes. I listened to music that he had on the radio station as he drove. Once Paul hit the city, he found a parking garage on West 49th street, which I learned was a few blocks from Times Square. We made sure nothing valuable was visible in the car before we locked up and made our way to the front of the garage.
I watched him hail us a cab and talked to the driver before he opened the back door and signaled me to get in. We rode in silence throughout the still bustling city until we reached the entrance to Battery Park City Esplanade, off of Rector Place. Paul paid the driver and we mustered out of the back and headed for the park with the Hudson river directly in front of us.
Paul held my hand as we strolled along a cement pathway which led to Battery Park’s boardwalk. There were a few benches around us and Paul led us to one directly in front of the fence facing the river.
It was a crisp September night, but there were a few couples walking around the boardwalk. It was quiet out here, despite the city noises behind us. A cool breeze drifted off of the river making me shiver.
Paul wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close to him. We sat there silent, watching the dark river and Newark’s city skyline off in the distance. I focused on the way the river rippled in the dim light of the night trying to wait out Paul. When his silence became too much, I broke the peace.
“I’m sure you’re upset with me,” I offered solemnly.
“I’m not upset with you, Lauren.” He replied, however his voice didn’t match to his words.
I turned to look at him. “Paul, you’ve been quiet for over an hour, that’s not like you. You can’t truly think that I believe you’re not mad.”
Paul turned to me and lightly touched the side of my face, caressing my cheek with his thumb. “Lauren, I don’t know how to handle what you’ve told me. A part of me was pissed at you. You’re bull headed and impulsive. That shit could one day get you hurt or worse killed. And yes, I get that he’s your brother, but damn he could’ve hurt you.”
“I know,” I replied, my voice low and a bit defensive; I couldn't help it.
“Do you?” He countered, his brow furrowed in irritation.
I squirmed in his hold, gearing up for a fight but he tightened his grip on me, as if he knew exactly what I was doing.
“You react to situations without thinking,” he bit out, his voice now laced with the frustration he felt. “and I feel that one day it’s going to bite you in the ass.”
I didn’t respond, mainly because I knew he was right. I deflated some, my head lowering, my eyes down casted in defeat. I sighed ready to throw myself at his feet or over the fence into the Hudson. Paul squeezed me once to grab my attention before he continued to break me down and shock the hell out of me all at the same time.
“But…” he began. I reluctantly looked up at him, the sound in his voice drawing me to him. “I understand why you reacted the way you did. Your brother is a fucking prick. The son of a bitch needed to be punched in the mouth for the things he said to you. He knew exactly what his words would do to you and he didn’t give a shit. Hell, they all knew and they let him go on and on without putting a stop to it. He was vindictive and cruel. Half of me wished I was there so I could’ve broken his fucking nose myself and protected you from them. The disrespect… the arrogance… and it wasn’t just Brian. This is your family. They're supposed to have your back and they failed you. Lauren, I’ve never wanted to purposefully harm anyone before in my life but I really want to hurt him for saying that shit to you, for hurting you like that.”
He leaned closer to me and rested his forehead against mine.
“You didn’t deserve to be treated like that and for that, I’m sorry, baby." He kissed my forehead, wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest. He held me just the way I wanted him to do that night, caressing my back, keeping me close. I inhaled his delicious scent and melted into him, gaining solace from his touch. I let go of all the hurt and pain I had felt for decades and immersed myself in his comfort.
“Don’t ever do shit like that again, understand?”
I nodded, fighting back the tight knot in my throat.
“Okay,” was all I could say.
We sat like that for a while before I asked if we could walk for a bit. With me still tucked securely at his side, we walked along the Hudson River both in our own thoughts.
I felt emotionally drained. I knew I was wrong for my part in everything that happened between my family and me. And I regretted the things I said to my parents the second the words came out of my mouth. But honestly, my breakdown was a long time coming. The fact that Brian could say whatever he wanted to say and treat me like shit was fucked up. My father never put him in his place. If I had said something out of line like he had, I would’ve been crucified. It had been that way for years and I was sick and tired of it.
Now, granted, I didn’t handle my breakdown very well. I could've expressed my frustration without the violence. I didn’t feel guilty about hitting my brother, I still felt he deserved it. I just wished I could have controlled my actions better. Paul was right about me. I was very impulsive. I was also hot tempered, aggressive at times and swift with my tongue. I used to fear that one of them of not all of my lovely faults would get me in trouble one day if I wasn’t too careful. Clearly my fears didn’t go deep enough to illicit a change. But maybe it needed to.
“Lauren…” Paul stopped walking and turned me in his arms to face him. I looked up into his handsome face and found a pair stormy blue eyes looking down at me. “Promise me something else.”
“Okay…” I wasn’t sure what else I had promised him, but I didn’t ask the question.
“Promise me that you’ll come to me anytime you feel out of control, scared, happy, frustrated or sad. Don’t keep shit in your head. You and I both know that’s dangerous. Talk to me. Whatever it is, we can talk about it. We can figure shit out together, got it?” Paul placed his hands along my cheeks and leaned down to lightly brush his lips against mine.
“Promise me,” he whispered above my lips.
I nodded my head, my mind spinning from his closeness, my heart beating wildly in my chest. “I promise,” I replied softly and closed my eyes as he kissed me senseless, right there with New Jersey and the Hudson at my back and my potential future in front of me.
Reluctantly, he released my lips but kept his arm around me as we continued our trek along the Hudson. Paul asked me more about my siblings and my home life and I regaled him with stories about what it was truly like living in my home. I’ve shared stories with him in the past, but they never contained anything that would scare him away or want to call Dr. Phil on my dysfunctional family or something.
Now that he knows about the crazy that was my family, I decided to share some of the not so nice things about my childhood. I wouldn’t overwhelm him, however. I wanted him to stick around, not scare him off. But one day… one day I’d tell him all about my life. About the body that’s buried in my parents’ backyard; a cousin that thought it was a good idea to touch me in places he wasn’t allowed.
To this day he's still missing.
I’d tell him about the illegal shit my brother got into, in which I had to bail him out of; and I wasn’t talking about Mark. So many secrets I held it’s no wonder my family would prefer to keep me away. People fear what they don’t understand; I guess that’s why I was so misunderstood by my family.
Paul and I caught a taxi back uptown to my car. As we drove, I noticed a club thumping some good music that had me bouncing in my seat. I didn’t want the night to end and had an idea that would shift this night to something more pleasant instead of depressing.
Paul’s birthday was tomorrow. We
had made plans to celebrate it by going to dinner. But what better way to celebrate his birth than spending a night here in New York City.
I leaned into Paul’s ear. “Hey, I’m not ready to go back. Do you want to hang out with me in the city?”
Paul looked at me quizzically. “What do you have in mind?”
I thumbed behind me to the club we passed telling him I wanted to check it out. Paul nodded he was down and leaned forward to direct the cab driver to turn around and take us to the club I pointed out.
The cab driver grunted a reply and made two dangerous U-turns that I was sure wasn’t legal, and dropped us off in front of the club. There wasn’t anything special about the storefront nightclub, but the music coming from the building had me wanting to dance.
We walked into a mixed crowd with loud rap music coming from very large speakers at the back of the club. It was pretty decent looking on the inside, very spacious with plenty of seating available. Two bars occupied both ends of the club with a huge dance floor in the center of the open space. Dark paint, carpet and wood flooring accented the nightclub with tables, and booths -some on elevated platforms- were spread all over the space.
It was early on a Saturday night so the club was fairly empty. Paul and I found a table close to the bar, slightly above the dance floor where we could see everything. We started off drinking beer until I recommended getting shots. Paul was hesitant for a second until I told him they were for his birthday. I also gave him puppy dog eyes until he reluctantly gave in.
About an hour into the night, a black couple approached us asking to share our table. Paul and I nodded it was cool and they took their seats, introducing themselves as Keenan and Jamilla.
Keenan was handsome. He was taller than Paul, brown skin, with a wiry frame and his hair cut low to his head. Jamilla was short, the same complexion as Keenan, thick, pretty, with long hair and a round face. They seemed like cool people, which allowed Paul and I to relax. We didn’t completely let our guard down, that would be stupid. But we let go enough to enjoy ourselves.