by Voss, Deja
“You better do something before it’s too late.”
“I will, alright?” I growl. He’s probably right. I need to do something. At least get some closure or something. No sense in chasing after some dream for the rest of my life if she’s already moved on and settled down.
“And when you do… I will help you finish this bed. But until then, I’m gonna sit in your bathtub and drink all your beer.” He sets the screws just out of reach and skips down the hallway.
“You’re a real fucker, Brooks.”
Chapter 35
Sloan
Everything that I could possibly sell is gone. It wasn’t much: some furniture, all my old scrubs, my TV, and my kitchen stuff, but it’s more than enough for a couple tanks of gas and enough peanut butter to last a whole summer.
Everything I need fits neatly into two duffle bags.
Everything else is about to go on the curb.
I’ve lost my damn mind, and it feels so amazing. For the first time in my life, I’m completely free. The sight of the empty apartment fills my heart with sheer joy. Someday soon, I’m sure someone just as sad as me can come here to be miserable for a little while.
Sure, I’ll need to figure out how I’m going to pay off my debt and function in society eventually, but the fact that it doesn’t have to be here in this town, surrounded by only reminders of everything I’ve ever done wrong is enough to make me feel confident that I made the right choice. There are hospitals literally everywhere in the world. I could even go the Doctors Without Borders route and really repent for my past transgressions.
Right now, though, all I need is some time to live on my own terms. No schedule. No obligations. No commitments. Nobody to hurt or hurt me. Just my crappy old car, a sleeping bag, and a pile of maps from state parks all over New York and New Hampshire to worry about this summer. I don’t have to be Doctor Sullivan. I don’t have to be Arthur’s ex-girlfriend. I don’t have to be the idiot who let the best man she’s ever met in her life slip through her fingers because I was too stubborn. I can just be free.
There’s still one thing I need to do to make things right. I pick up my phone and call the one person I know still remotely even cares about me. The one person that I care for with all my heart.
“Hey,” I say when she picks up. I want to be as apologetic as possible. I don’t feel good about how we left off, and it was all my own doing. Olive is such a beautiful person inside and out and she doesn’t deserve my abuse. “Got a minute?”
“Hi, Sloan,” she says. “I’m glad you called. I might lose service though. I’m on my way to… never mind that. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I love you, Ollie. I don’t know why I lashed out on you like that. I’m a huge jerk.”
“It’s ok. I probably should’ve started our conversation with the part about how I told Gavin he was an asshole and kicked him in the nuts for you. You ran off before I could get into all that though,” she laughs. I don’t care if she’s serious or not. She gets me. “So what’s up with you now? Job hunting?”
“Actually, the hospital offered me a full-time position,” I tell her.
“That’s amazing!” I let a little silence lapse before I go on, knowing the next thing I say isn’t going to make her exactly enthused. “Did I lose you?” she asks.
“I didn’t take it.”
“Sloan!”
“I’ve spent my whole adult life always having someone telling me what to do. Be it Arthur, or my professors, or my superiors at the hospital. Maybe I’m crazy, but right now I want to make some choices for myself. I’m going on a road trip for the next couple months.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would’ve happily come with you!”
“It was kind of a last-minute decision. And as much as I love you, I need to do this on my own.”
“When are you leaving? I want to see you!”
To be honest, I don’t want to see her. It’s not because I don’t love spending time with my best friend, but because I feel like she might talk me out of this. I’m already a little bit nervous, and it might make it even harder for me to make this leap.
“First thing in the morning,” I tell her.
“Well, I can turn around right now and be at your place in less than an hour.”
“Ollie, don’t,” I plead. “I promise I will call you. And I just might take you up on that offer of moving in with you when I get back. Is that still a thing?”
“It will always be a thing. I love you, girl. I think you’re nuts, but I don’t exactly hate this idea. Promise me you have protection though, Sloan.”
“Like your giant bag of condoms?”
“Now I’m definitely turning around and coming with you.” She giggles and it warms my heart. I can’t count how many times that laugh of hers got me through a rough patch in my life. “I’ll talk to you soon, Olive. While I’m tying up loose ends, can you tell Gavin something for me?”
“Why don’t you come up and do it yourself? He’s having his housewarming party tonight. I think he’d be happy to see you.”
I think about that beautiful house, the smell of cedar and the feel of his old t-shirt wrapped around me, and I know that going up there would be a terrible decision. I assume he’s moved on, and I don’t think I really have. Honestly, I miss him like crazy. So many times I’ve had to resist the urge to just pick up my phone and call him, so many nights I’ve thought about how much better it would be falling asleep wrapped in his arms. The ball is in his court though. I’m trying to cut ties and look into the future, not find excuses to drag myself backwards, especially if it leads to opening myself up to rejection again.
“You know I’m not going to do that,” I tell her.
“Hey, I think I’m gonna lose ya here,” she says. “If you change your mind, you know where I’ll…”
Her phone cuts out and all I can hear is silence before the beeping sound of a lost connection. I text her, knowing she probably won’t get it until the morning but it doesn’t matter.
“Thank you for everything. For loving me when I’m not always lovable. For accepting me for who I am and helping me become who I should be. I might not be here with you, but I’ll always be here for you. Talk soon.”
I know how much she loves waking up to a bunch of cheesy quotes when she’s hungover. I make sure to decorate each one with a handful of inappropriate emojis.
Everything is packed. My car is gassed. I just have to carry my coffee table down the hall to my neighbor’s apartment. I offered it to her as a way of thanking her for all the free Wi-Fi she’s given me unknowingly over the last few years.
She invites me inside, her place not much less sparse than mine, but she has sunny yellow curtains and the sound of nursery rhymes fill the air. Her young daughter is sitting in the corner playing with a doll.
“Here you are, Janine,” I say, placing the table in the middle of the room.
“You don’t know how much this helps,” she says. “Ever since Mike left us, I’ve been trying to piece things back together so she can have a chance at a normal life. I’ve just been scooping up furniture here and there.”
“Are you going to nursing school?” I ask, looking at the stacks of books on the countertop.
“I’m trying.” She smiles. “It’s hard when you don’t have the money, or anyone willing to give it to you for that matter.”
Don’t I know it. And I just had myself to look after.
“We’re happy though. I thought when Mike left that I had lost everything. Now I’m realizing I have more than I ever had. I get to live my life the way I want to live it. I get to raise my daughter to be the woman I want her to be. I’ll take freedom over his money any day.”
“You’re a strong woman. When you do finish nursing school, you need to give me a call. I will happily highly recommend you at Dixon.”
“You’re so kind. I’d love to work with you.”
I feel a slight twinge of sadness about the l
ife I’m leaving behind and all the great people I got to work with, but I also know it’ll be there waiting for me when I come back. If I come back.
“Good luck, Janine. You’re going to do great no matter what you do. Bye, Lucy!” I say, waving to the little girl.
Now it’s time for me to go. One last night in the old apartment before I hit the road bright and early. I close the door behind me and start down the hall.
Chapter 36
Gavin
Trixie’s working the grill, the kegs are flowing, the band is loud and rowdy, and my lawn is swarmed with friends and family, dirty birdies and brothers alike. Nothing like a good old-fashioned housewarming party to make me feel like complete shit.
I slaved away on this place all winter long, mindlessly, aimlessly, not even sure of why I was doing it. The repetitive nature of laying floorboards and sanding wood did little to keep my mind off shit. Off my anxiety, off my loneliness, off the fact that I let a really good thing slip through my fingers in favor of my corrupt father and junkie brother’s half-witted opinions.
Still, these Misfits helped me from day one with this place, revitalizing my grandfather’s place into something even better than he’d imagined. I know he’d be proud to see it not rotting into the ground any longer. The least I can do is throw my men a decent party, let them enjoy the place, get a little wasted and puke on my grass before I can kick off my life of solitude, out from under my father’s mansion.
“Great party, Gavin,” Kara whispers in my ear. She’s a gorgeous girl: tall, with legs that end at her boobs, and dark skin. She hasn’t been hanging around the club for long, but I could tell from day one she’s had a thing for me. I should probably just take advantage of the fact that she’s running her fingers up my thigh.
“Thanks, kid,” I brush her away, “but I don’t do sloppy sevenths. Buzz off.”
“God, whoever hurt you really fucked you up,” she says, pouting.
“Just because I don’t want your skanky hands on my body doesn’t mean I’m fucked up. Get out of my sight,” I growl. “There are plenty of other dicks floating around in this sea.”
She storms off with a huff, loudly cursing my name and flailing her arms. I don’t blame her. Maybe I did cross the line a little there.
“Jesus Christ, Gavin,” Heat laughs, patting me on the back. “You’re a little high-strung, don’t you think? Here.” He thrusts a joint at me, and I put my hand up.
“I’m good, man. Thank you.”
“What’s wrong?” he asks. “You getting soft on us, Grandpa?”
I shake my head at him. Today was supposed to be a celebration of my future, but getting high and fucking strange chicks feels like massive regression to me. It’s just not right.
“Nah,” I say. “Just not feeling it yet. Maybe later. Plus, I just did you a solid. Go tell Kara what an asshole I am. She’ll probably love you long time.”
“I thought we were supposed to be the ones giving you the presents today. Look at you, handing out STDs like Santa or something.”
“You’re welcome.”
He strolls away, putting his arm around her shoulder. For an old guy, he still has some serious sway with the ladies. They’re both giggling as they wander off into the crowd.
I wander off into the backyard, sitting in the grass, staring out into the pond.
I don’t want to be around any of this. I don’t want to drink. I don’t want to pretend like I’m happy, like I want to party. I just want to be left alone.
“What are you doing back here?” Olive’s voice screeches from across the yard. “Feeling a little antisocial?”
“Sorry, Olive. I don’t want to talk.”
“That’s ok, I just wanted to give you your housewarming present.”
I don’t even turn around to look, and she sets the bag down in the grass next to me.
“Open it,” she urges.
I pull the picture frame out of the bag. It’s a collage of old photos of my grandfather and grandmother way back when they lived in this very house. They’re laying the foundation together, huge smiles across their faces. My grandma holding my father when he was just a baby on the front porch. My grandpa with me on the back of his bike when I was barely knee high. The two of them and all my brothers and sister and I swimming in this very pond I’m staring at. I turn around and squeeze her hand, trying to fight back the emotion welling up inside me. It’s overwhelming, seeing their sheer joy, the love in their eyes, the life that they worked so hard to create all laid out in front of me.
“Where’d you get these?” I ask.
“I found them in a box in the basement of the bar,” she says. “I thought they were fitting.”
“She kinda looks like her, doesn’t she?” I slip, running my fingers over the picture of my grandmother. I didn’t mean for that to come out. I’ve been doing a fairly good job keeping that to myself, avoiding the topic altogether whenever Olive and I are working together.
“A lot like her. Not in a creepy way, obviously.” She laughs nervously.
“No, just in the way they carry themselves.” Good, sturdy women. Good women who have so much love to give to their man, so much love to give to the world.
There’s a long silence and she lets out a sigh before she starts softly, “I talked to her on my way up here. She wanted me to give you a message.”
Now she has my full attention.
“What did she say?”
“I told her to come tell you herself.”
Not that the housewarming gift she gave me was anything to scoff at, but that would’ve been the best present I could’ve possibly imagined.
“Is she coming?” I ask, jumping up, dusting myself off, looking around, half expecting her to pop out from behind a tree or something.
“I wish I could say yes. She’s actually leaving. Apparently she sold all her stuff and is going on a road trip for the summer.”
“What? Now?” I stammer. Nothing about that sounds like a good idea to me. Imagining her out in the world, all alone in that piece of shit car, with nobody to look out for her is nothing short of crazy to me. “By herself?”
“Yeah. I tried to go with her, but she said she needed to do this on her own.”
I take off across the yard in a sprint and she calls after me.
“Gavin! Where are you going?”
“I just need to make sure she’s ok.” I wouldn’t try and stop her from doing anything that she wanted to do, that’s for certain, but she has to at least know she has someone who will come to her rescue if she needs it. Someone who will drop anything and everything to make sure she’s safe. Someone who loves her, even if they don’t get to see her or be near her. Someone who will go to the end of the world to make sure she’s happy.
I run through the front yard, no regard for who I’m stepping on or pushing into. Olive is hot on my trail, throwing off her shoes as she tries to keep up with me.
“Gavin, what the fuck?” Esther shouts as I knock her beer from her hand.
Brooks grabs me by the arm, stopping me dead in my tracks.
“What are you doing, man? Are you on fire or something?”
“I’m going to get Sloan, and nobody better try and stop me,” I yell.
A slow cheer builds through the crowd, my friends and family firmly behind me. I’m shocked. I never thought they would support my choice after what went down between us all those months ago.
“Go on, boy,” Brooks says. “We’ll be here when you get back.”
Olive catches up with me, hooking her arm in mine. “You gotta stop running, though. This dress isn’t appropriate for much more than being crumpled up on a bedroom floor somewhere.”
Chapter 37
Sloan
I don’t know when the next time a hot shower is going to be happening in my life, so I figure I might as well take advantage of that while I still have the chance. As I go to turn the shitty handles of the faucet one last time, I notice a ring of water around the drain.
This place really is going to shit. Everything’s constantly breaking and leaking. Good thing I’m getting out now. I squeeze out what’s left of my shampoo and begin to lather up as the warm water instantly turns to cold on me.
Seriously, fuck this place, I think. It makes the thought of using truck stop showers for the next three months sound like a luxury day at the spa. I dance around the stream of water, just aiming to rinse the lather out of my long hair, trying not to blind myself in the process.
“Hey, Sloan,” his voice rings from the doorway. “Sorry about that. Want me to get you a towel?”
I try not to breathe, try not to make a sound. I don’t know what good it will do me, but I need to be very careful about my next move. I eye every corner of the tub for anything I can use as a weapon, but that crusty pink razor couldn’t even harm an armpit hair, let alone a 6’ 3” escaped felon who just might be here to finally finish me off.
He pulls back the shower curtain before I even have a chance to cover my body with my hands. Not that it would make a difference.
“The door was unlocked so I just let myself in. I used your shower; I didn’t think you’d care.”
He’s acting like this is a normal casual conversation, that there’s nothing out of the ordinary here.
“Are you eating? You look really thin,” he says, handing me a towel.
“Arthur, you look so different,” I finally stutter. I’m stalling. I’m trying to act cool—trying to figure out how to play this situation to the best of my advantage. I need to get to my cellphone. Or even a window or a door. I need clothes. I need him to get out of my way. My teeth are chattering and I’m sure it’s not because of the ice shower I just took.
His hair is much shorter than I’d ever seen it in all the years we dated, black with streaks of salt and pepper gray running through it, a stark contrast to his formerly long blond locks. Something about his nose looks different, but I can’t put my finger on it.