Silver

by A E Gamrat

  “Sounds like my kind of people.”

  “I know, right? But they were all superficial, backstabbing bitches. They would steal your man right in front of you, toss him back when they were done with him, and then talk shit about you for your husband straying. They were always after my dad and still try to this day. My mom was lucky he worked hard and came home every night for dinner and showed how much he loved us.”

  “My dad loved me, but my mother made his life hell, and he stayed away a lot.”

  “Oh…Claire.” It’s now my turn to put my hand over hers for comfort.

  “No, no…not like that at all.” She pauses for a breath, staring out the window. “My dad and I are rock solid. As soon as I could get myself around, I was with him all the time. When my mother passed, she apologized to me but still hated him. To this day we don’t know why she hated him so much. He never missed a child support payment, always showed up, and never caused problems.”

  You really never know the layers of one person and what they keep hidden. “Growing up I always asked why so and so was so mean? Mom would say you never know what someone has been through. I really tried, but, man, people can be downright awful and most of the time for no reason at all. Quickly I became leery of any person I met no matter the age or gender. Mom always tried to get me to see the good and to handle people at arms’ length. She was worried I would be alone my whole life because of my lack of trust. Even some of my cousins were awful people.”

  “You must tell me what you just thought of because I've never seen such anger in your eyes before.”

  I bark out a laugh over the anger I feel from the situation I haven’t thought of in years. “It was July fourth, and I was fifteen. I walked into the house and heard voices; nothing strange, there was a party going on. As I turned the corner to enter the kitchen, my aunt and dad were talking kind of close together.”

  “No,” she gasps out.

  “At first I thought nothing of it. There was no touching or anything weird going on, so I barged on in. Dad smiled at me, and my aunt gave me a look of disgust, but we went about our business.”

  “Damn, I spoke too soon.”

  “Yes. So, the fireworks are about to begin, and the three of us always sat together and watched them. Dad, of course, isn’t with Mom; she hasn’t seen him in a while, but is content to wait on him, and all I could think about was where my aunt was.”

  “Where did you find them?” She’s so anxious for the answer, her bouncing in the booth is shaking the both of us.

  “Well, I wasn’t the only one who found them.” I pause for added affect. “My uncle, her husband, my dad’s brother found them and heard all she was saying to my dad. Of course, she’s saying it was my dad blah, blah, blah. Then she yells out that I knew and was hiding it for them.”

  “What did your mom do?”

  I laugh out loud at this question because my mother is always a prim and proper woman until you mess with her family. “What did my mom do? Well she walked in on the part of me knowing, walked right over to her and knocked her out.”

  “Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here!” she roars.

  “Nope.” I pop the “p” for added drama. “Punched her square in the face, looked down at her, told her not to mess with her family, and then dragged my dad and myself back outside to watch fireworks.”

  “I’m never looking at your mother the same again.” We laugh for a few minutes over my crazy story.

  “She is known for that punch, and the family we still talk to laughs about it all the time. The next year or so was nasty while my uncle divorced her. That part I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

  We finish off our meals in silence. I don’t know what Claire is thinking about, but ever since I rehashed that story, my stupid ex keeps popping up. Even when you think you know someone, do you ever really know them? Claire, Anne, and I have been friends for a few years now, and though we say we know each other, this meal has shown me how we truly don’t.

  Because of the store we know so many people, but on a superficial, say “hi” when we see each other kind of way. I thought I would be ready to date and meet guys for the fun of it, let loose in this part of my life and truly experience things I've never had a chance to, but when the time arrives, I shrink back and make excuses about why I need to wait for a better time.

  “Everything okay here?” the waitress asks while cleaning up some of our dirty dishes. I would guess she’s in her later teens, probably working for fun money and dreaming big dreams for herself.

  “Yes, our check is all we need,” Claire says.

  Once we are alone again, Claire brings us back to my right now problem. “Call him, text him, as long as you do something. You want to try new things, get yourself out there, and find a good man…sister, now is the time.”

  She makes it sound so easy. “I feel so whiney and out of sorts. I don’t like this feeling at all. Silver is the one I never had but always wanted.”

  “Then get what you want. I had what I always wanted but fucked it all up.”

  I knew there was a deep story behind her flippant, fun girl ways. Had no clue what it was, but I could feel her loneliness, especially when we were on the hunt for a guy for me. Sometimes it seemed like she was hunting for someone of her own. Loneliness seeks out loneliness to feel a little less lonely.

  “Alright, as soon as I get home, I'll call him. I think all this new technology has me even more on edge.”

  “STOP!” She tries to throw herself out of the booth, and ends up more awkwardly sliding across, but she’s doing it with anger. “We might be older, but we are not dead. Embrace the technology. There are so many ways to be in contact with Silver now.”

  “Or so many ways to question why he hasn’t gotten back to you or tried again. What if I was making it out to be way more than what it was?”

  Claire took off with the check, so I throw down a nice hefty tip. Hopefully this will help the young waitress have a nice night or make her goals a little easier to achieve.

  “Get in your damn car, Ginny, and call that hunk of man who is on the same page as you or even a chapter ahead. He did call me for your number. I know what I heard.”

  “Alright, alright. Thanks for listening to me whine and the confidence boost.”

  “What are besties for?” She comes in for a full body hug, squeezing me nice and tight. “No matter what, you are amazing, and any man would be lucky to be allowed in your world.”

  “Love you.” We part ways, and at the last minute I yell back, “One day soon we are going to talk about this love you fucked up.”

  There’s no acknowledgement, but loud cackling as Claire heads for her car and I start my trek home. Everyone knows about my walking fetish, as they call it, on nice days. They hate when I bring up all the health benefits and mental benefits you receive from daily walks.

  Think I'll send him a quick message and then call when I'm in my protected cave. With all this nervous anxiety, I'll probably make this trek in record time. A text will also give him time to either realize he missed my message or come up with a good excuse. I'm alone now so that I can think however I want, and if it’s more negative Nancy, then oh well.

  Chapter Nine

  Silver

  By day I am the local bank manager, by night, though, I work on my Mustang in my garage. Up until our lives were flipped upside down, Mom always asked when I was going to get rid of this heaping pile of junk. Working on it helped me through some of my biggest lows I’ve ever been dealt in my life. She never brought up getting rid of it again. Here and there she’ll even try to act interested in my hobby. She likes to plant, grow, and harvest flowers. How can she not see how much we truly are alike?

  When I started second-guessing myself last night, I came out here and haven’t slept. When my nights became unbearably hard, I made this into a garage slash man cave. Bought a futon with a really nice mattress and a little mini fridge for drinks and snacks.

  This morning I made my daily phone cal
ls to my mother and daughter. They are both my world, and I like to make sure they know I would drop anything for them. Neither know about Gin, but I’m sure walking in public together the gossip will be running rampant.

  It’s funny to think how different our families are. Even with Gin and I going to different schools, our mothers became really good friends. Yes, it’s because of my mother’s flower shop, but if Gin’s mother were a snobby bitch, they would not be social with each other. My mom always knew of my infatuation with Gin, call it mother’s intuition, but never said a word. She did her motherly thing and would bring her name up casually in conversation, letting me know when Gin’s mom was in the store and why she was buying flowers.

  I'm sure Mom will be calling soon again. She didn’t say anything during our first conversation, but she knew I was out here. I sat on the futon to be as quiet as possible, but not two minutes later, a damn wrench fell off my worktable. If I think about it too long, the falling tool starts to freak me out. This is sacred ground for me, so it’s always clean, and every tool has its spot. Even the tools don’t want to make her mad. I have to give her credit because all she asked, while on the phone with me, was if I was sleeping alright?

  Growing up I never second-guessed myself. What was the point? I picked a direction and naturally never looked back. Again, what is the point to agreeing one minute and then regretting it the next? It's always been one of my best qualities. When I had to start answering the hard questions in the hospital, I was firm with my answers. It was the scariest time in my life, but I did the best I could for her. It’s just my best wasn’t good enough. Even after, I never once second-guessed the path we chose with her health and diagnosis.

  A few text messages, though, have rocked my world and conscience. I'm all over the place with what my next move should be. Do I even have a next move? When the pacing starts for a third time, I know it’s time to get out of here and my head. There’s too much technology now. No wonder why people go crazy; instant gratification makes a man go crazy. The want—and need—to know what the other person is thinking right then and there has us all losing our minds.

  There was a time when I would pray to the heavens for a glimpse of Gin, hoping beyond hope she and her mother would come into the shop after school. Gracing me with her quiet beauty for mere seconds would brighten my whole day up. Make my week a little more tolerable.

  Her beauty as a teen has morphed into an elegant, curvy woman. We've lived lives, and we’ve both made it through some rough ones. The bad times haven’t come up yet, but I can feel hers resting on the surface of her sun-kissed skin. No, sun-touched skin. No one is kissing that skin but me.

  I need to get out of here and fast. Glancing out the garage window one more time, the sky is crystal clear. The Mustang is begging for some road time, and the weather is cooperating. I make sure I have my wallet, keys, and check my phone one more time. There’s a message.

  The excitement at seeing the little mail icon instantly revokes my man card for life, but I couldn’t give two shits. Take it away forever if it would mean this message is from Gin.

  Clicking on the icon, a meme of a gorilla throwing bananas at people pops up with laughing emoji underneath from my best friend Dam. Then another text box asking about lunch at Bistros, where I’m headed.

  Annoyed over it all, I don’t respond, throwing the phone on the passenger seat and bringing my baby to life. The purr of the engine puts a balm over the deep ache at the very bottom of my soul. Brings back flashes of great times, good times, and times no one should ever have to endure. I let the vibrations run through me for a minute, and I give her thanks for always starting up for me. You must talk nice to your car when you want her to start up after a long rest.

  Pulling into Bistros ten minutes later, the same damn thing happens every time. Women think I want them to talk to me when the Mustang is out. It’s like they think I'll let anyone sit in this car with me or take them somewhere for a quick fuck. I'm not sure how a muscle car or a motorcycle means we are down for anything. Sure, some guys like that, but they could also live in Gin’s world with everything the best of the best and want something fast, cheap and meaningless.

  There are barely any cars in the parking lot, yet I have two women eyeing me up, using their coy looks and pouting lips to try and invite me over. All of it is so…I don’t even have a word for it. I never was into fast and easy. My rep and the guys I hung out with would beg to differ, but nobody knows the true me. I never confirmed nor denied claims about my life because the rumor mill wouldn’t believe me either way, so why bother?

  My indifferent looks and stomping does nothing to deter them. If anything, it makes them drool that much more. When I was technically single again, the vultures used the sympathy tactic to try and get into my pants and bed. As time went on and nothing was working, they’ve became more aggressive. I'm not letting them ruin one of my favorite bars on this side of town, but it’s fuckin’ tiring to have to constantly put them in their place.

  As soon as the door shuts behind me, Dam is yelling from across the room. “Over here, man.” He’s waving his arms high above his head as if I can’t see him or hear his loud ass mouth. Dam knows this shit drives me nuts but continues to do it until my ass is in the chair across from him.

  “Why. Must. You. Do. That?”

  The bartender is the afternoon waiter and knows us well. I nod him over, knowing he’ll get my order right.

  “Because…man, the look on your face every time is priceless.” He laughs. Dam can play the jackass to a T, but like anyone else, that is only one side of him “What’s goin’ on, man? Barely heard from you this week and then no text back.”

  “You soundin’ a bit needy today. More than usual.”

  “Nice one,” he says, putting his fist out for a bump. “Just want to make sure you doin’ alright.”

  “I know, always appreciate it. I didn’t text back because I was out the door heading toward here.” Great, we haven’t been sitting here more than five minutes, and I see the few vultures in this place starting to circle us. The ringleader of these vultures was once someone I thought was a true friend, and when shit went up in smoke, she showed her true awful colors. I don’t have it in me today to deal with her.

  “I see you glancing around, man, ignore them. Trisha would be stupid to come over here. Rumor has it she found a man.”

  I raise my eyebrows at his unbelievable comment. She is out of her mind, and no right man would take her on part-time or fulltime.

  “I know, right? But I believe it’s true, and supposedly he is rich. Not any old rich but rich-rich.”

  “Rich-rich you say.” I take a sip of my water and hope the rumor is true. “If he’s rich-rich then it could really be true. That’s the only way she would keep a guy around.”

  “Yeah, man. Let's not waste any more time on her. What’s going on?”

  “Nothin’ much, worked on the car a little.” When people see Dam and me out, they think I'm the older brother. He's a few years younger than me, and we kind of resemble each other. Most days we go along with it because he’s become my brother over the last few years. He didn’t run away when we got the news or when we never left the hospital. Dam stepped up when most didn’t, nor did he have to, but he did and solidified our friendship. This whole Gin thing though, I kinda want to keep to myself for a little while longer.

  He's been silent for minutes; the hair on my neck is starting to stand at attention. I can start to feel all of his questions bouncing off my skin but not being voiced. I notice my hand holding my fork is white with tension.

  “You worked on your car?” is the question that snaps the tension between us. “And you seem on edge for some reason.” He taps his pointer finger on the table, filling in plot holes of my life.

  My shoulders shrug before I can consciously stop them.

  “So, it’s like something big. You shrugged; that’s your biggest tell. Now you seem stressed, on edge so that I won’t pester you right t
his second.”

  “Geez, thanks.”

  “I know, right? What are friends for? But if this lasts.” His finger quits tapping and is now pointing at me. “I will find out the easy way and or the hard way.”

  “I know, man.” Do I blab everything, sounding like a whiney girl, or see what happens and give him the highlights? I'm not sure if he’ll believe me, be mad at me, or not really care. Dam’s best quality is to be there for you, but not be in your face. If he feels his opinions are not needed, he’ll listen until you lose your breath and then he moves the subject along. For a minute he lived with Tabby and me after the funeral. I still can’t figure out a way to repay him for that sacrifice.

  “How’s our girl doin’? Do you need a date to family day? I could probably fit you guys into my schedule.”

  I'm going to sound like I'm crushing hard, but his off-the-wall comments are what I live for. He can make anyone laugh and turn a stuffy situation into a relaxed atmosphere.

  “She’s great, doing great, and loves her new roommate.”

  “Good, I was worried about this one after what happened with the last one.”

  “Me too, man, me too.”

  “Maybe I'll tag along if that’s cool with you. Get out of here for a minute. See for myself everything is copacetic with this new roommate.”

  “Yeah.” I stretch my legs out after inhaling my burger. Pretty sure I didn’t even taste it. “It’s next weekend. Nothing too early or anything.”

  “Oh shit.”

  “Hey, let me know if you can go. Tabby would be thrilled.”

  “Not that at all, man.” His head is facing me, but his eyes are at the door. His stillness tells me I'm not going to like what is coming our way. Why is she even going to bother? If she has a man, why would she even think of coming over here?

  “Heeey, Siiiilllll,” is disgustingly moaned out while sharp talons graze my neck. I’m out of my chair so quick, the damn chair smashes into the empty table behind us. Thank god it was empty. “It’s been a minute, baby.” This vile woman tries to put her hand on my chest, causing me to back up and almost take out our table.