One Moment at a Time

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One Moment at a Time Page 7

by K. S. Thomas


  I scoff. “Really? I’m ass-backwards and can’t say what I mean? Look who’s talking!”

  Her hand reaches out toward the table. At first, I think she’s going back for her cup, then I see her hand shift right, aiming for her wallet.

  “You’re still doing it.” She pulls a twenty from the cash nestled in the main pocket of her leather pouch and tucks the corner of the bill under her coffee cup. Then she slides out of the booth and gets to her feet. “You want me to tell you some truth? Here it is. You can’t hide from me. Can’t put on glasses and tuck in your shirt and dress up as ‘Responsible Ben’. Can’t lie to my face about fake disorders you don’t have and be ‘Never Gives A Shit Ben’. Can’t pretend to be ‘Player Ben’, or ‘Charming Ben’, or ‘Troubled Ben’, or any other ridiculous caricature of yourself you create on demand based on what your newest conquest might find most enticing. Because in the end, I can still see you. Just you. Just Ben. And frankly, I’m not all that impressed with what I’m seeing right now.”

  She turns and starts for the exit.

  “Of course,” I call out after her. “You’re leaving. Again.”

  “You make it hard to stay, Ben,” she says, voice sad and laced with a softness I rarely ever hear from her.

  “You don’t know how to stay.” I pull myself up as straight as I can. “But you sure as hell know how to keep coming back. So, go ahead. Do your thing. I’ll catch you next round.” A false sense of smug arrogance rises within me. Because she isn’t the only one who can see through the other’s bullshit. “Oh, wait. That’s right. You don’t want to be caught.”

  Her eyes narrow and she watches me intently for what feels like an eternity, reminding me one last time just how easy it is for her to break through my walls and cut straight to the core of my being. My heart. Then, she nods slowly, bringing the slightest smile to her mouth. “No more than you want to be free.”

  She was gone for almost a year after that.

  “I’m here because I want to be free,” I blurt out just as Lacey comes back to the table with a platter of cookies and an assortment of other pretty tasty looking pastries.

  “Huh?” Tank looks baffled by my outburst.

  Lacey just smiles. “That’s a good reason to be here.” She sets the tray down in the center of the table and reaches for my hand, squeezing it gently. “Thanks for finally answering my question.”

  “Thanks for not accepting any of my other answers.” I laugh, shaking my head. So many things are shifting inside my mind right now, pieces slowly falling into place, pieces I never realized were so far from where they needed to be.

  “Got it,” Tank says, nodding as he leans forward to reach for a cookie, or, more accurately, three. “We’re back on Ky. Good.”

  Lacey moves back into her seat and casually browses the tray of desserts with her eyes before deciding on some sort of chocolate cake with a lot of layers to it. “Mind if I ask what made you decide to tell me the truth?”

  I help myself to one of Tank’s Perrunillas. “Honestly, I only just figured it out.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Tank looks equally pleased with his mouth full of pastry as he seems eager to hear about my unexpected epiphany. “Do tell.”

  Lacey smiles as if to encourage me.

  Oddly enough, I am more than willing to spill my guts to the both of them. “I remembered an argument we had, me and Ky. I was being an ass. She was leaving. Basically, we were running the same play on repeat, over and over. I called her out for it as she was walking out. She returned the favor. Only I didn’t get it back then.”

  “What did she say?” Tank asks between bites.

  “Told me I didn’t want to be free.” I shrug. “Sounded like a lame comeback at the time. Because I was free. Or, I thought I was.”

  “And now?” Unlike Tank and me, Lacey has yet to touch her dessert. Apparently, she’s been more focused on me than her chocolate.

  “Now I understand what she meant. I wasn’t free. I had a nice cage to live in, but I wasn’t free. I always played comfortably within the lines in every aspect of my life and I never even considered whether I liked it there or not. I just stayed. Did what was expected of me. Even when it wasn’t good. Or less than what I’m capable of. Never considered if I was happy or not.” I swallow. Somewhere between my last bite of cookie and now, a lump formed in my throat. “Ky was never going to stay with me because I was caught. And she was free. And I only just now figured out, that the only way I’ll ever be with her, is if I’m free too.”

  Lacey’s hand moves out across the table again, but this time it doesn’t reach for mine, just turns over, palm up in my direction. “That’ll be one hundred and seventy-five dollars, please.”

  I’m briefly taken aback, but I catch on fast and quickly reach for the wallet in my back pocket. “You know what, yeah. Totally worth it.”

  She’s laughing before I even get my wallet to the table. “You’re crazy! I’m not taking your money.”

  “Babe,” Tank reasons with her. “Think of all the Perrunillas we could buy.”

  “You’re both ridiculous.” She completely ignores the both of us moving forward, at long last devoting all of her attention to the chocolate cake in front of her.

  Tank and I follow her lead and help ourselves to more sweets. First steps toward being free, is tasting as many new things as I can.

  chapter

  nine

  BEN

  “What’s this?” I ask, peering down at the bundle of pamphlets Tank just handed me on the way out of the door. It’s dark out. Late lunch went way later than I imagined it would. And thankfully, included dinner.

  “Your next step,” he says, grazing the corner of his mouth with his thumb and thus drawing more attention to the way he’s silently laughing at me. Even in the dim light of his porch lamp, I can see the amusement etched in his face with the curve of his grin.

  “Next step?” I’m almost used to the way everything is revealed in riddle form around here.

  He nods. “You want to know where to find Ky, you gotta pass the test first.”

  I laugh, lifting the bundle closer to my face to get a better look but it’s hard to make much out in the dark. “Of course.”

  “That there’s every possible activity you can do around here within a fifty-mile radius. You have to pick two you’ve never done before and complete them. You need three total, but I’m counting today’s outing on the boards as your first.”

  I turn out toward the horizon, remembering the hurricane looming out there somewhere. “What about the storm?”

  He moves forward and takes the small steps down from his porch into his front yard, facing the open night sky. “You’ve got time.” He turns over his shoulder to look at me. “If you hurry, you could even be on a plane out of here before it hits.”

  “A plane, huh?” I guess that means she’s no longer in the state of Florida. Can’t say I’m surprised, but this does confirm things. “So, how do I pass? Take pictures? Get my parking validated? What do I need?”

  He chuckles. “Or you could just invite me to come.”

  “Don’t you have to work?” I remember mention of a guy and shrimp being on his schedule tomorrow.

  “I’ve got Brody at the shop tomorrow. No need to show up myself,” he explains.

  I guess that settles that. Tank is coming along. “Any suggestions on where we should go?”

  He shakes his head. “You’re already missing the point of this test if you’re asking me.”

  Shit. Right. “I’ll look them over tonight and let you know in the morning.”

  “That works.”

  I reach out to pat his shoulder. “I better get back to the hotel. Get some rest. Sounds like I’m going to have a big day tomorrow.”

  He grabs my arm and pulls me in, resting his arm over my shoulders as we start walking toward his Jeep like we’re old friends. It almost feels like we are after the day I’ve spent with him. “Alright, brother. Let’s get you to bed so we can
get you back out bright and early!”

  “You better be ready to do some shit you’ve never done before.”

  He laughs. “I’m not the one who hasn’t done shit, but what the hell, you may surprise me.”

  We reach the Jeep and climb in. We make the drive in silence but for the wind rushing past us as we cruise with the sides and top wide open. I can even hear the ocean in the background. Overhead, the clouds are sparse, and the stars are shining through in large sections of otherwise black night sky. It’s serene. The sounds. The sights. Even the company.

  By the time we’re stopped, and I focus on my surroundings again, I’ve missed some things. “Wait. We’re at the hotel.”

  Tank nods. “Yeah. That’s where we said we were going.”

  “Yes, but my car’s still at your shop,” I point out.

  “Where it will safely stay until you need it.” He unbuckles my belt and reaches across my lap to open the door. “Now get out and go to bed. I’m coming back for you at the crack of dawn.”

  I do as I’m told, half shaking my head, half laughing as I go. “Out of curiosity, what’s a more specific time range I might set my alarm clock to for crack of dawn departure?”

  “Set it for six. Brew your little hotel room coffee and go out on your little three inches of balcony. Watch the sun rise in style. Then, you can walk down here and meet me.”

  “Yes, sir.” I salute him just as he’s shifting back into drive and rolling onward.

  “Choose wisely – I’m expecting adventure of epic proportions!” he calls out as he drives off.

  Epic adventure. With a dude named Tank. Sounds like any other Wednesday. Of Ky’s life.

  I avoid looking at the bundle of pamphlets until I’m back in my room, showered and laying on my bed. Seems safer somehow, to leaf through the possibilities from the comforts of my pillows and blanket.

  The first few options sound interesting but not epic. Museums. Butterfly Gardens. Zoos. Then I hit the motherload of theme parks and almost make my decision right then and there. But, I did Disney as a kid. Hit the rollercoasters in my teens. I could argue that some of the parks are new to me, maybe all, because I’ve never visited any of them on the east coast, but that seems like the lazy way to go.

  I keep browsing but nothing really sparks my interest until I’m nearly to the end of my pile. “There. That’s what we’re doing.” I set it aside, self-satisfied smirk spreading on my lips. From here, nothing else seems comparable and I wind up at the end of my options with only one task chosen. But, I’ve got ideas. Or, sort of an idea that I think Tank will be able to help me with.

  I set my alarm as instructed and switch off the lights. I should sleep. I’m exhausted and tomorrow promises to be a long, long day. My mind, however, can’t be bothered with this logic, and continues to run at a steady pace, ensuring sleep will be held at bay for the foreseeable future.

  I find it hard to keep my mind from swaying in Ky’s direction on any given day, but it seems damn near impossible now. For the first time in as long as I can remember, she feels real again. Close. Like she’s within reach. Like I could be standing face to face with her again within days. Which seems crazy after it’s been years.

  Seven years. Going on eight. If I were on the outside looking in, I’d think I was crazy even being here, running after her now, after so long.

  But I’m not on the outside. I’m smack at the center of it. And I know, I remember what it felt like to be with her. Our connection existed before we ever even spoke a word to one another. It’s not so hard to believe it would live on even after we stopped speaking. Especially given the depth of the last conversation we had.

  New Year’s Eve, and everyone we knew was celebrating at the hippest bar downtown, place called NaKiseLa. The theme of the night was a masquerade ball, and people went all out with their outfits. Including Ky, who showed up in a gown fit for a fairy tale princess, complete with fancy mask and all. Not that it kept me from finding her in the crowd. I’d recognize those piercing blue eyes of hers anywhere.

  “Figures you didn’t bother with the costume mask,” she says when I come to meet her on the dance floor.

  “Because I’m too cool to conform to silly party dress codes?” I joke, placing my hand on her hip and moving in closer as we continue to move to the music.

  “No, because you’re already wearing one,” she quips, instantly amused with herself.

  “You ever get tired of making the same jokes over and over?”

  She shrugs. “Do I look like I’m getting tired of it?”

  That she does not.

  Which reminds me, “So, bring a date to this thing? Or should I start making my case to be the one who kisses you at midnight?”

  “Speaking of things no one ever tires of.” She laughs, rolling her eyes back into her head. “Danelle’s my date, but I’m not planning on kissing her any more than I intend to lock lips with you.”

  “Come on,” I insist. ”You have to kiss someone at midnight. That’s the rule. How else are you going to seal in all your new year’s resolutions?”

  She nods slowly, as if contemplating my argument. “Okay.”

  “Seriously? You’re going to kiss me, just like that?” Never in the last three years has a discussion between us ended so quickly. Nor have I ever won.

  “No,” she says grinning wildly. “I’m going to kiss Danelle.”

  I feel my mouth twitch for a moment, tempting a frown, but it’s hard to commit. “You know, I don’t think I can be that disappointed with your decision.”

  She slaps my chest with both hands, playfully shoving me back. “You’re such a dumbass.”

  “Can’t help it. Being around you makes me stupid. Must be love,” I tease.

  But she isn’t buying it. “All the blood draining from your brain to your dick, is not love, Ben.” The song ends and a new one starts, slower than the one before. “Let’s go to the bar. I could use some water,” she says, pointing for me to head back through the crowd and off the dance floor.

  “Sure. Dehydration is the reason you don’t want to slow dance with me.” I raise my brow and wait for a response. When I don’t get one, I take her hand and lead the way through the couples now grinding up on one another in slow-motion. Together, we make our way over to the bar, which is just as packed as the dance floor, if not more so.

  Takes several uncomfortable minutes of being in tight quarters with sweaty strangers, but we manage to get two bottles of water and head outside where the air is cool and crisp, and most importantly, not the same stale stench of people and booze we were breathing inside.

  “How long do you think you’ll last?” I ask her, leaning up against the railing of the rooftop deck above the bar and standing close enough to bump my elbow to hers.

  “Not sure. Maybe another month or so.” She shrugs. “I don’t like to plan ahead too much. You know that.”

  I chuckle, tipping my chin to my chest to try and keep from shaking my head. “I meant out here, without a jacket. Tonight.”

  She grins sheepishly. “Oh. That.” She pulls herself in toward the railing until her hips are flush against the metal, chest up toward the night sky. “A while,” she says wistfully, eyes taking in the stars overhead.

  I watch her, soaking in the moonlight, becoming one with it, as if she’s some sort of magic.

  “Think you’ll ever find what you’re looking for?” I ask, unable to pry my eyes from her even as she has hers directed at something far beyond me.

  “I’ve already found what I’m looking for.” Her lips shape into a delicate smile. “Just can’t have it.”

  “I don’t believe that,” I tell her, swaying in closer to her, hoping she’ll allow me to stay in her space if for no other reason than to take advantage of my body heat in these icy conditions. “You’re Ky, the girl who makes her own path, lives by her own rules and laughs at everyone else’s. What could there possibly be, that you can’t have?”

  Slowly, her head lowers an
d turns until our eyes meet. “It’s funny you’d be the one to ask me that.”

  “Why? Because I can’t have what I want either?”

  She smirks. “Oh, please. All you want is to have women drop their panties at the mere sight of you. You get that plenty.”

  “I do enjoy that,” I agree. “But that’s what I have, it’s not what I want.”

  “And what you do you want?”

  I nudge her arm with mine. “You know.”

  “No, I don’t,” she insists.

  “Come on, Ky,” I groan. “Do we have to keep playing these games?”

  She turns toward me, resting her hip against the railing, both arms wrapped tight around her core, either for warmth or armor, I’m not sure. “Have you ever not cheated on someone?”

  “What?” This conversation suddenly took a turn.

  “When you have a girlfriend, one you actually claim to be committed to,” she specifies, “how often do you manage to stay loyal?”

  I’m starting to think maybe I’m the one in need of armor. “Fine. I don’t like to be tied down. I don’t make a secret of it. Certainly not with you.”

  “Then why keep attempting to have relationships?” she presses on. “Why keep pursuing something you don’t even want to have?”

  “Maybe I just don’t want it yet.” I move to mirror her position. “It’s not like I’m some sort of relationship whore. Half the time, I’m not even trying to get into a relationship, I’m just dating, having fun, and then BAM, girls get all serious and start pushing for titles.”

  She laughs. “And so, what? You just give in?”

  I shrug. “Basically.”

  “And then, of course, when you cheat, it’s on them, because they’re the ones who forced you to be something you’re not,” she concludes with a great deal of pity and mockery.

  “I never said I wasn’t a shit boyfriend.”

  “I guess I should be flattered you’ve never wanted to date me.” Her head turns out toward the sky again. “At least when you’re trying to get in my pants, you’re offering me the goods you can deliver on.”

 

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