Here I Go

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Here I Go Page 15

by Jamie Bennett


  I thought of the napkin, the one with the naked picture of me. It was still balled up in my party purse, which was not stored on the floor in the corner of this room. I had my own amazing, walk-in closet, just for my personal use. It was a dream I’d always had: a room of my own, a closet with so much space that a family of gnomes could have been living in there and I’d never have known it. And now that I had it, I hated it. I wished for that big pile of purses that Cass and I used to share together.

  “See?” she interrupted my thoughts. “You’re already making friends! I’m glad, Ari.”

  I wasn’t sure about that Sebastián but I decided I needed to stop moping and make an effort. “You’re right. I’m glad, too!” I’d go to the address on that napkin and visit him. “And I’m definitely going to get a job. I saw a bunch of help-wanted signs on a shopping street near here.” I’d be able to walk so I wouldn’t have to drive on the hills and try to find parking.

  “Coming!” Cassidy yelled suddenly in my ear. “I have to go,” she said at a normal volume. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything else about your sisters going to jail for arson.”

  I called them next and talked to both Mory and Bree for a long time. Then finally, I forced myself to talk to my mama. All that took up most of the day. The drama was a little exhausting, as was the run I made myself do afterwards—and it was a run, up a hill to a dirty park with lots of steps which I bolted up and down.

  I was a mess by the time I dragged myself back to the grey house, my shirt soaked with sweat, my hair frizzing in wild, red waves, my face probably the same color. For once, I was glad not to know people here, so there wouldn’t be anyone to inform my mama that I’d been walking around the streets looking like a witch. She still kept track of that. Despite my condition, I stopped at the bookstore and, feeling a little sad and not very knowledgeable, got myself another Christmas present.

  Cain had taken his car to drive to work and to my surprise, it was back in the garage when I walked in there—I still found the front entrance too intimidating to use. “Hello?” I called, twisting my hair into a bun, smoothing down fly-aways, and then fanning my face to ease the heat from the hill-climbing. “Cain? Are you here?”

  “Aria.”

  I nearly turned and ran back out the door, but I managed a smile at Cain’s friend Blayden, standing casually in the kitchen. “Oh! I didn’t know…I wasn’t expecting you.”

  He nodded, looking me over. “I see that.”

  Great, my face got even redder. “I was out running. Far,” I added, but that was terribly false. “No, not that far,” I admitted miserably. “Where’s Cain?”

  “Your husband?” He said it with a big pause between the words, and a lot of emphasis on “husband.” “He went upstairs to change. We’re going to play some basketball.”

  “Basketball?”

  “You know, orange, inflated globe?” He mimicked dribbling. “Men attempt to throw it through a hoop for points. It’s quite simplistic in its playground form.”

  “I know the sport,” I told him, my dander up. “Women play it, too.” I’d just been surprised that Cain was going to play a game in the middle of the afternoon. I’d thought he was so busy—too busy for Christmas, too busy to go out with me on Christmas Eve to get that ornament that I’d talked about as our first tradition as a couple.

  “Basketball,” I repeated as I considered this, and I saw Blayden staring at me like the porchlight was on but no one was home. “I have a lot to do, myself,” I told him. And the way he still looked at me…I decided to make that my exit line. I raced through the big hallway to the stairs, and there, coming down, was my husband. My husband. Those two words echoed in my mind like Blayden had pronounced them just now, like there was something wrong with them, that they weren’t real.

  “Hey, Aria,” Cain greeted me. “I wasn’t sure where you’d gone. Exercising?”

  I nodded, tugging my sweatshirt lower. “I ran up a really steep hill. And up and down stairs, too. I think it’s really going to make a difference.” Nothing had shown in the scale yet, but I had hopes.

  “Don’t do too much,” he said. He took another step down and stared at my face. “You look exhausted.”

  “I’m great, very energized,” I assured him. That had to be true, because exercise was supposed to make you feel better, not like you wanted to collapse on the ground as I did right now. “I saw Blayden in the kitchen. He said you’re going to play basketball?”

  “It’s more of a business meeting, but Blayden doesn’t do anything in a normal way. He prefers to talk on the basketball court.”

  Right, because people liked “difference.” Except for my kind, I remembered.

  Cain lowered his voice. “He’s a terrible player.”

  I giggled. “Really?”

  “Really,” he told me. “He couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with the ball.” Cain laughed, too. With his gym clothes and that smile, he didn’t seem like the same guy who’d been frowning at his screens for most of Christmas. He pointed to the book I carried. “What’s that? Have you been shopping?” He took it from my hand and looked at the title. “A Beginner’s Guide to Greek Mythology.”

  “I was curious about the Furies,” I told him, “and then I got interested in the other mythology stuff, too, so I bought this book. But I didn’t use your credit card. I found out how to apply for a job at that store and maybe I’ll work there. I’ll read all the time.” That didn’t sound very fun, but it would be educational. Which, I was coming to understand, I needed to improve about myself.

  “You’d work at a bookstore?” His face was full of doubt, and I understood why.

  “I know I didn’t go to The Farm or anything, but I can still read!” I had also found out about that dumb Farm, in fact, so I understood that it was just a cute nickname for their big, impressive university, like saying your brand-new car was a beater to call attention to how great it was, or Aubree complaining that her hair was so dull so we’d all notice how much gloss and shine it actually had.

  “Farm?” Cain repeated, looking confused. “Where are you going? I know you can read, Aria. I just couldn’t imagine you in a bookstore. It’s too quiet, not enough going on.”

  “The Law Offices of Gary Andonov weren’t exactly buzzing, either,” I told him. “Anyway, for most of my life, I’ve been watching, not in the middle of the action. I don’t mind that.”

  “Sure, but—”

  “Ready, Miller?” Blayden had come to join us and I wondered how much our voices had echoed off the marble. He didn’t look at me.

  “Will you be back for dinner?” I asked as Cain nodded and started to walk away. I sounded desperate and I had to stop myself from grabbing his t-shirt sleeve.

  “After we play, we’re meeting with my sister and Demetra to discuss the ballet gala,” Blayden interrupted.

  “That’s right, we are. I think I told you that I signed on to be co-chair of a charity thing,” Cain explained to me, and I thought he had mentioned something, but maybe not that he was in charge. “Yeah, I guess I’ll be with them for dinner.”

  “Demetra,” I repeated. Like, the ex-girlfriend? How many women were named that? “Oh. Because I was going to make chicken and dumplings for you.” I heard Blayden snort but I only stuck out my tongue at him in my mind. “And I wanted to tell you about my sisters. There’s all kinds of drama. It’s crazy!”

  “When I get back,” he suggested, and I nodded and stopped my fingers again from creeping over to hold onto him.

  “Sure,” I agreed. “Sounds great!”

  He paused. “Are you all right? Is everything ok with your sisters?”

  “Sure,” I said again, and so I would be the one leaving first—always a good idea when you were dealing with boys—I turned and ran up the stairs. Only a few steps away, though, I realized that I was showing off my butt and thighs at eye-level, which was not the ideal view of me. But when I snuck a peek over my shoulder, Cain was already gone.

  He
’d been relieved when Demetra left him, I remembered him saying. He’d been glad that she and her clothes and shoe problems had walked out the door. That didn’t really make me feel better, though, when I looked up her pictures again on my phone. Oh, my word. That woman was gorgeous! Then I looked up old pictures of the ballet benefit that Cain was working on and my mouth fell open at the flowers, the decorations, the men in their tuxedos and the women in their gowns and jewelry. And it was coming right up, like, soon, on New Year’s Eve! Did he expect me to go to this? Wouldn’t he?

  A few hours later—many hours later—I heard a soft knock on my door. I’d been asleep, kind of, but mostly I’d been looking at dresses on my phone, wondering how quickly I could get really toned arms, and investigating the benefits of the sriracha/mayonnaise diet. Nutritionally, it didn’t seem great, but if those girls giving testimonials were being honest about the amount of weight they’d lost and how quickly those pounds had come off, then I was going to have to try it.

  I picked up my head when I heard the knock again, sure now that it wasn’t my imagination. I often heard weird noises in this big house that frightened me a lot, but this wasn’t one of them!

  “Come in,” I called happily, then rolled off the mattress and said, “No, hold on,” as the door handle turned but couldn’t open.

  “You lock it?” Cain greeted me.

  “I get scared alone at night,” I explained, and hopped back into bed before he got too much of a glimpse of my pajamas, which were covered in pink pigs. Really cute ones, but it wasn’t the same look as the black lace bodysuit that Cassidy had given me.

  “You do?” He stopped as he came in the door and looked around the room. “I guess I never showed you how to use the alarm. Is that why you have the bathroom light on?”

  “Well, I’ve never slept alone before, either.”

  He got a huge frown which cleared quickly. “Because of your sisters. And your cousin.”

  “I’ve never had my own room,” I agreed. “It’s weird.”

  He sat down on the bed next to where I was curled on my side. I pulled up the nice sheet higher over the flannel pigs. The way he was looking at me was making me nervous.

  “Did you have a fun time playing basketball? And out to dinner?” I asked.

  “No.” He didn’t elaborate.

  “Oh. That’s too bad.” He was still staring. I cleared my throat. “At least you got some exercise.”

  “Not really. Blayden saw a lot of people he knew at the club and we ended up stuck at a table with them drinking kombucha for a while. The dinner was nouveaux-Moldovan and it was terrible. I would much rather have had chicken and dumplings. I checked the fridge.” He looked hopeful.

  “Sorry, I didn’t make it,” I said. I hadn’t wanted to tempt myself. “Did you get a lot done for the benefit party? The ballet gala?”

  “Sure, I guess. I don’t actually have to do much. I’m not anything more than a face for it.”

  If I was picking a face, I would have gone for his too, I thought, studying it in the light that came from under the bathroom door. “You’re planning to dress up and go to the gala, though, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  I waved my arm, gesturing for more. “Well, what about me? Are you planning that I would go?” I asked, hearing an edge in my voice. Was he thinking about me at all?

  “I didn’t think you’d want to,” he answered me. “I didn’t think you liked the party at Blayden’s too much.”

  Well, I hadn’t, but that didn’t mean I wanted to be excluded from this one. “Don’t you think it would be weird for you to be there, but not your wife?” I paused. “Oh.” Because suddenly, I thought I might get it. Cain had worked hard to get rid of everything about his past, and I would be a big, fat, red-headed reminder of it all, right there hanging on his arm for everyone to see. Those pictures of this party from the year before had shown me that it was a big deal even for this fancy town, and if I hadn’t fit in at Blayden’s house, then I definitely wouldn’t at the ballet gala at some museum where everything was gorgeous and sophisticated and San Francisco-ish.

  “Do you want to come?” Cain asked.

  His voice didn’t give me any clue as to how he felt about that, if I’d been right that I would shame him if I did. I looked at his expression, trying to read him again. I’d been wrong, I thought, when I’d guessed at his feelings before and accepted his “proposal,” but the ballet party was much lower stakes. I didn’t want to embarrass him but I did want to be with him. I wanted to show everyone, Blayden and the Furies and that ex Demetra and the whole dang city, that I was his wife.

  “I would like to come with you,” I said. And was that relief on his face? Happiness? Would he tell me that he didn’t want me to, after all? But I wouldn’t embarrass him. I was going to be the most boring looking woman at that whole party.

  “Ok, you’ll come,” he agreed. “Scoot over.”

  I wasn’t expecting him to say that. I moved slightly and he put his long, lean body down where mine had been, lying on his back on the soft mattress. “This is more comfortable than mine,” he said. “My bed feels like sleeping on a concrete block.”

  I laughed. “Why do you have it, then?”

  “I don’t know. It was supposed to promote health. I didn’t pick it.”

  I bet the pretty ex had, and I disliked her even more. “What about promoting comfort?” I asked. “Who picked this bed?”

  “I did. Before my aunt came for the first time, I came in here and felt it, and I couldn’t let her sleep on a rock. I should have made the room pink, too. She likes…” He closed his eyes. “I mean, she liked that color.” Now he sighed. “I don’t know why I keep doing that. Forgetting.”

  I understood immediately. “When my father died, my sister Aubree set the table with five plates for months. She couldn’t stop thinking that he’d be coming home. Or I guess, she didn’t want to believe it.” I hadn’t either. I’d pretended to talk to him, whispering conversations enough that my teachers at preschool thought something was wrong with me. I’d drawn pictures for him and hidden them outside so that he would find them, telling myself that he was there, he just wasn’t coming into the house for some reason.

  “I don’t want to believe it,” Cain said. “I can’t let myself think it. Her friends wanted to have a memorial service but I couldn’t even…it was selfish of me not to give them that.”

  “I think you needed a little time,” I defended him. “I’m sure they understood. It’s not too late to do something, either. I can help you plan a service and we can go home and have one.”

  “You’d help?”

  “Of course, I would! And you know, I was thinking about how much you two talked. Her phone was full of messages from you. Even when you were home with her in the next room, you were texting her!”

  “It was a habit,” he said. “I got used to telling her about my day, what I was doing.”

  “Well, if you get lonely and you ever want to talk to someone, you always have me. I’d like to hear from you, too.”

  “If I get lonely,” he echoed. He turned his face toward me on the pillow and I nodded at him. “I’d like to hear about the drama with your sisters that you were going to tell me before. Are you too tired to talk?”

  “This story will wake me right back up. It’s lucky for you that you’re already lying down.” Lucky, but kind of strange, but also—it felt pretty natural that Cain would be there hanging out, kind of like how Cassidy and I had lain on each other’s beds to gossip after Sunday parties and after work to go over our days.

  “That makes it sound like something big,” he said.

  “Something huge,” I corrected. “An earthquake in my family. First thing, though, you need background on Aubree and her husband, Clayton. He’s never been my favorite guy but Aubree met him when she was in high school and she was bound and determined to get him down the aisle.” I told the story of their high-drama courtship and their high-cost wedding, Aubree’s
high-risk pregnancies, and then…

  “It was like they deflated,” I tried to explain. “It was always crisis to crisis, and then it was just, you know, getting to the school bus on time and having milk in the fridge.”

  “Boring,” Cain put in, so I knew that he was listening.

  “For them, it was. For other people, that’s just heaven!”

  He smiled. “Running to the bus is heaven?”

  “No!” I smiled back. “You know, the everyday things. The little things that make your family run well and make people happy. Those things are heavenly.”

  “Like, someone packing a lunch for me and putting in a note saying she hopes I have a great day.”

  “Was it annoying? My memaw used to leave notes for me, and I loved it.”

  “It wasn’t annoying at all,” he answered. “What happened after your sister’s relationship deflated?”

  I told him about Clayton’s affair, about Amory assaulting him on Christmas day, about Bree moving in with our grandmother and mother. He was shocked, which was fun to see. “It’s exactly what Bree didn’t want—she kept telling me that when I talked to her, how she’s just like our mama now, disappointed and alone,” I finished.

  He grimaced. “That’s what your mother thinks about her life?”

  I nodded again. “It’s what she used to tell us. She’d say, ‘A pretty face can take you pretty far,’ but then she’d say, ‘And look where it got me.’ And she’d get a headache and go rest her eyes.”

  “That’s…sad.”

  It was. Her regrets had made her sad and bitter, too, and we all could see it. “Bree also kept talking about her plans for revenge, like partially sawing through tree branches so that Clayton will get killed by them in the next storm. I had to talk her down a lot and I made Mory swear on the Bible that she wouldn’t help with any of those ideas. And, I’m sorry to say, I ratted her out to our Uncle Jed so he’d keep an eye on things and no one will get hurt. I think she was ok when we hung up.”

 

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