“You look deep in thought,” Adam said as he passed by the counter with a towel tossed over his shoulder.
“Writing stuff,” I lied with ease. “How much for the food?”
“It’s on the house.”
“You know, giving away food isn’t a good way to stay in business.”
“What can I say? I never went to business school. Or diner school. Or whatever.”
“Adam…”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’ll keep a running tally. Food. Rent. We’ll go over the invoice at some point, I’m sure.”
I laughed. “Now you’re talking like a businessman.”
I stood up and Adam opened his hands. “You’re bailing on me?”
“I have a meeting,” I said. Another small lie coolly slipping from my mouth.
“Real estate?”
“Something like that,” I said, veering more towards the truth.
“Good luck,” he said. “I’ll be here as always. Hopefully I’ll catch you later.”
“I’m sure you will,” I said.
Adam gave a wink and went back to his diner.
Everyone knew him. He knew everyone. I didn’t know the story of the diner, but I wanted to. Actually, I wanted to know the story of Adam. Everything about him and what he went through in life. And what it would take to get a chance at his heart.
At the same time, I had to ask myself… did I really want to risk my heart?
* * *
She introduced herself as Marjorie when she opened the squeaky door to the one-story house. She had a big, round face that matched her big, round glasses. Her hair was straight and gray, the house smelled of tomato sauce, garlic, and mothballs. She was maybe one of the nicest people I’d ever met.
Before I knew what was happening, we were sitting at her kitchen table, having a cup of tea, and I was telling her about Chad.
She lifted her right hand and waved it, crooked fingers and all.
“Now that’s one thing you don’t do,” she said.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Mess with a woman’s heart. Because that’s when the real bitch comes out.”
I choked on my tea, hearing her say the word bitch. She had the look of everyone’s grandmother, but when she smiled after saying that, I saw a different side of her. One that suggested we were going to get along.
If I wanted the room.
“Okay,” she said, putting her hands to the table and forcing herself to stand. “I live here alone. My grandkids are across the country. Everyone wants me to move. I have no desire to pack up and move. Just to die. I have an extra room on the side of the house. I love to talk, and I love to drink tea. Can’t have coffee anymore. If I get too annoying, just call me out and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“I don’t know how much I’ll be here or not,” I said. “But it would be nice to have someplace to go. I can pay you for the entire month.”
“Weekly is fine,” Marjorie said. “My kids are so mad at me for this. Saying I was going to have strange people showing up.”
“I don’t think I’m that strange,” I said. “I’m a writer. I work as a real estate agent. And I hate that. My long-term boyfriend cheated on me. I came up here for… well, just memories, I suppose. I think I want to actually figure out my next step before taking it.”
“This is the place to do it then.”
“I’ve been staying on a friend’s couch.”
“Now you’ll have a bed,” she said. “And I always cook big meals and I hardly eat. So the leftovers are yours. And anything after that, I give to someone.”
“Charles?” I asked.
Marjorie looked shocked. “How do you know Charles?”
I stood up and lifted my empty mug. “I had the honor of meeting him.”
“I like you,” Marjorie said. “You’re secretive, but not in a bad way.”
“Well, if you’ll have me, I would love to take that room off your hands.”
“Done,” she said. “Want more tea?”
“No, thank you,” I said.
“Let me show you to your room. Oh, and I’ll give you a key to the front door. My bedroom is on the opposite side of the house, so you don’t have to worry about me waking up or thinking you’re a burglar. Not that there’s much to steal from here.”
Marjorie chuckled.
I looked around the house and it was a clutter of knickknacks everywhere. To some it was probably junk. Stuff that was worth nothing, but to me, it was everything. Each item, big or small, had a story and a purpose. It was cozy. It was hidden. It was what I needed.
I also felt as though I needed Adam.
Or maybe that was just a want.
A deep, deep want.
A wild desire of want.
Marjorie gave me the tour of the house and I wrote her a check for the first week.
I left the house and admired the long front porch. There were two rocking chairs and a small table between them.
“The porch is perfect,” I said. “To sit and look at the trees.”
“We used to do that,” Marjorie said.
“We?”
“My husband and I. He’s been gone ten years now.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“That’s why I don’t want to leave here. It would be like leaving him behind. I haven’t sat out here since he passed.”
“Well, if it’s off limits, then I will respect that. I would never want to step on your memories.”
“Can I give you a secret about memories?”
“Of course.”
“The ones you have never go away,” she said. “But… if you don’t make new ones, then you’re not living life the way you should be.”
Marjorie smiled and slowly shut the door.
I took a deep breath and looked at the key in my hand.
There was one thing I knew for sure about memories, new and old.
They seemed to revolve around Adam.
12
Sucker Punch Smoke
ADAM
(now)
Waking up to an empty couch bothered me.
As fast as Elena had walked into my life, she had already begun to distance herself. She damn near teared up when she said she’d found a room to rent and that she needed it for herself. I would never stand in the way of her happiness, which was probably the second biggest flaw I had.
I stood at the back of the couch, my hands gripped over the neatly folded comforter which was draped over it where Elena had placed it, and where I had left it.
We saw each other every day still, either at the diner or she would stop over when I got home from closing the place up. We talked, laughed, shared old stories and walked down to the lake together. There were times when we flirted and I saw the line I shouldn’t cross become just a little more invisible. There was still pain behind her eyes as she worked through years of hurt and regret. That was something I couldn’t help her with. I so badly wanted to tell her that I knew she was going to end up like this, but that would have done more harm than good.
So, I was left alone again, in my house, her sweet smell long gone.
The only reminder of Elena was the damn desk I carried out of her house. The quick gesture was biting me in the ass as the desk stood at the front window.
That’s when an idea came to me.
Elena wasn’t able to take the desk with her because there was no room. I offered to keep it here for her. But it needed its place. And she needed to find herself as a writer. If that was one thing I could give her through all of this, then I’d be happy. She had always been smart. She had always been a good writer too. But everything stood in her way. Not just stood, but stood like a fucking mountain.
I turned my head and looked up to the loft.
Elena had gone up there once. Her eyes lit up when she saw the only window up there. The one that looked out over the lake. She wanted to know why I didn’t have the loft cleaned up to use it more. I just smiled and let h
er have her excitement. All the while I let hell churn in my heart and my gut.
I got myself a beer and walked up the old, wooden steps to the loft. At the top to the right was a door that opened to the attic. I wrestled with the tiny white knob until the door gave way and opened. I used my phone as a flashlight and saw I had plenty of room in there for storage.
That’s when I started putting boxes in the attic.
I stacked them one after another, and in just a short time, the loft was pretty much wide open. There was a short, two drawer nightstand that needed to get moved too. I avoided eye contact with the dresser as long as I could. I went back downstairs and grabbed Elena’s desk. I paused for a moment to think about what I was really doing here. What I was doing for Elena.
Chasing away any thoughts of doubt, I lifted the desk and turned, going right back to the stairs. I climbed them carefully so I didn’t damage the desk. Up to the loft and right to the window, I put the desk down in front of it. The only chair I had for her was a metal folding one, which would have to do for now.
I sat down and looked out the window.
This is incredible. I can sit here forever. I’m not lying either. I’m going to sit here forever. You’re going to have to bring me food when I get hungry. I don’t think I can ever leave this place. Ever.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and let the thought fade. I glanced back at the small nightstand and knew I needed to move it.
Soon.
Right now.
Get it the hell out of my sight.
I moved from the chair to the nightstand. I put my hand on the top and slid it down to the top drawer. As I inched it open, there was a heavy pounding at my door.
I knew that knock.
And I knew it was trouble.
* * *
Chris barreled through the door and started to pace like an animal waiting for a meal.
“That fucker,” he growled. “I’m telling you. He’s going to get it soon. I’m going to fucking… I’m…”
“What’s wrong?” I said.
Chris kept pacing, staring at the floor, shaking his head.
I finally got in his way and when he crashed into me, he looked up at me. He had blood on the corner of his mouth and his cheek looked swollen.
“Shit, Chris, what happened?”
“This?” he asked, pointing to his face. “This is nothing. Nothing to what I’m going to do.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That prick Gavin.”
“Gavin? Who is Gavin?”
My heart sped up, wondering if Chris had gotten himself into some street trouble. All I wanted for him was to work at the diner, get away from his side jobs and hobbies, and find his own path. I thought about the pills I had hidden in the kitchen and I hated myself for it. That I put him in a position for my own need and personal pain.
“Jess’s… whatever he is.”
“Oh,” I said. “Your sister’s boyfriend.”
“He is not her boyfriend. He comes around when he needs money and needs to get laid. And she keeps letting him back into the house. I warned her if he came back again, I would do something.”
“Chris…”
“I’m paying the fucking bills, man. I’m taking care of everyone. They could at least listen to me. This guy is scum as shit, okay? Every time I get Jess set up with a job and help with little Tyler, this shit goes down.”
“Okay, take a breath for a second,” I said. “Let’s figure this out. First off, what the hell happened to your face?”
“Gavin,” he said. “He sucker punched me.”
“What?”
Chris walked through my house like he owned the place. He knew this was a safe place to hide out if he ever needed it. I took him in at the diner the way Gwen and Wally did for me. I had no plans of selling the place to him though. Chris needed to go out and have a better life for himself. But in the meantime, if he needed somewhere to go to feel safe or just vent and get pissed, this was the place to do it.
I followed him into the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of beer out of the fridge and I snatched the bottle out of his hand.
“Not a chance,” I said.
“Funny how you choose what laws you feel like following,” he said.
“Don’t come here and try to pick a fight with me. I won’t sucker punch you. I’ll do it eye to eye. Man to man.”
“Oh yeah?” Chris asked, puffing out his chest.
“You have no fucking clue what you’re thinking about doing right now,” I said.
I kept my stare straight until Chris finally broke and gave up.
He inched back and made fists. “He stole her rent money. I watched him fucking do it too. I tried to talk to Jess about it and she got pissed. She thinks I hate Gavin because he got her pregnant. Which I do. But I love Tyler. And there are a hundred other reasons to hate Gavin.”
“So, this guy took her rent money?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Jess had it saved up. He took it. I saw it. I tried to let it go. But then he kept asking for money from Jess. And I lost my shit. I said something to Jess and we got into an argument. Then Ma got pissed at me for it. You know, I could move out of there. Get my own place. I got my own stuff going on in life.”
“I know you do,” I said. “You stay because you care. Because that kid needs a father figure.”
“Yeah. Fucking right. And that’s me. So after I saw Jess crying to Ma, saying she knew Gavin was a bad guy, I decided to do something.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
“I was going to give Jess the money for rent. She and Ma have been having problems. Jess is learning the hard way that having a kid at seventeen is tough. Shit, I’m twenty and I don’t want a kid.”
I laughed. “Even still, Chris, there’s a kid in the house now.”
“Ma did her part. I’m doing my part. And Jess was afraid Ma would kick her out. And if Ma ever does, she’d go right to Gavin. So, I slipped the cash back into her drawer. I figured one of two things would happen. She’d find the cash and think I did it. She’d never say anything though. She and I have this silent agreement sometimes. Or she’d think Gavin gave the money back. Man, it fucking hurt to think that piece of shit would take credit for something I did. But so be it…” Chris put his hands out. Then he touched his face.
“Let me guess,” I said, “that’s when you got clocked in the face?”
“He was waiting for me in the damn bedroom, Adam. Soon as I put the money into the drawer, he punched me. Caught me off guard. I stumbled to the side and turned, ready for a fucking fight. He was fucking holding Tyler.”
“Oh, shit,” I said.
“Yeah,” Chris said. “So, I couldn’t hit him back. He hit me, stared at me, and told me I was a pervert for digging through my sister’s drawer.”
I stood in silence. Shocked and pissed off.
“Jess came into the room and saw me. Saw the blood. Saw my cheek. I heard Ma in the living room yelling at Gavin for the way he was holding Tyler. Gavin said he was leaving. And Jess just stared at me. My sister, knowing what had happened and why. I told her I was leaving too. She clutched my arm so damn tightly and begged me not to go after him. I promised her I wouldn’t.”
“Did you?” I asked.
“No. I fucking came here.”
I rubbed my jaw. “I’m sorry, man. That’s a rough spot to be in.”
“Mind if I smoke a little?”
“Outside,” I said.
We walked out the back door and down to the lake. Chris lit up some smoke. He offered me some, but I declined.
“Since when do you not smoke?” he asked.
“I’m good for right now.”
“Ah, I bet it’s that woman who keeps coming to the diner, huh?”
“You know how to swim, Chris?”
“Of course I do,” he said. “Why?”
“Because if you bring up Elena again, I’m going to throw your ass into the lake.”
He la
ughed. “Tell me something about her. You’re acting different lately. Has to be because of her.”
I side eyed him. “She and I go way back. She’s in a tough spot and she asked for my help.”
“Right. I know how that goes.”
“You don’t know how anything goes, Chris.”
He laughed again.
He stood at the shore of the lake and enjoyed his smoke.
“You know what’s even more fucked up?” he asked, looking out to the water.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“I get it,” Chris said. “I get why Jess brings him back. Why Ma doesn’t beat his ass. And why I never go after him.”
“Why’s that, Chris?”
He looked back at me. “He’s Tyler’s father. Our father left and never came back. At least Gavin comes back. And there’s always that little bit of hope that this time it will be for good. And if there’s a chance at it…”
“You go with it,” I said.
“Exactly. You go with it.”
I stepped up and stood next to him. He exhaled a cloud of smoke and put his head back.
“Listen,” I said. “My parents took forever to split. And when they did, my father left and never came back. Like yours. And my mother was never the same. She tried to wear the single mom badge with honor for about five minutes. What I’m saying is that your mom seems to be a good person. And your sister will figure her shit out. They have you. You have the diner. Use it, Chris. Work the hours. Get the paycheck. Same for your sister. If she needs a job, I can help.”
“No way,” Chris said. “She’d never work at the diner. That would be a disaster. And you know a paycheck for a dishwasher at a diner isn’t much of anything.”
“I know,” I said. I swallowed hard.
That was the reason why Chris did his other job.
“Thanks for the talk, Adam,” Chris said. “I’m going to go back home and check on things. Jess will be a mess. Ma will be pissed off. And if they start tangling, it’ll get bad.”
IMAGINE US: by: Page 11