New Year, New You

by Tarrah Anders

  it, we sat at the breakfast counter in Mindy’s kitchen sipping on orange juice in comfortable silence.

  “So.” He starts. “Yesterday, last night and this

  morning.”

  “Lots of fun.” I smile. Is this where a ‘but’ coming.

  Prepare for it, prepare for it.

  “Indeed. But, I don’t want you to think that any of it

  was a mistake or something that I was prepared for.”

  “Right. Yeah.” I say. There was the ‘but’.

  “I don’t know my future plans, but also I don’t want to not explore this either.”

  “Wait, what?” My mouth hangs open.

  He smiles, his eyes crinkling. “Did you think I was

  playing you? That this morning was a one-timer?” He asks.

  “Um, yeah?”

  He pulls my stool closer to him.

  “So, I like you. I know that we don’t know each

  other very well, and we may have just jumped the gun this

  morning. I wasn’t expecting to jump into anything

  relationship-wise while I was here, but I’m also not going to turn away and avoid it. I want to see where this can go. I’m fucked in the head. I’m guessing that you are too. We can be fucked in the head together? Whaddaya say?”

  “I don’t know how to do things like this anymore.

  It’s been, awhile.”

  “Things like what?” He probes.

  “Date, or whatever you think this will be?”

  “Yeah, I have a feeling that neither do I. But we

  figure it out along the way. Yeah?”

  I stare at him. Memorizing this moment, making

  sure that I catalog everything happening right now. It’s the morning that we slept together, like really slept together; there was no chance in hell that you could ignore that fact.

  He’s still wearing the clothes he wore yesterday, he smells like sex and me and he’s got day old stubble on his face

  making him look dangerously sexy and his green eyes are

  staring into my soul asking it questions, I’m unsure whether I can honestly answer, at least out loud. But the fact remains that in the past 24 hours, I’ve been happy.

  “Yeah.” I smile back nodding.

  He kisses the tip of my nose and grabs his orange

  juice.

  “First order of business, I need to shower and change

  clothes. Options are you can join me in the shower, or you go back home and shower separately. Second Order of

  business, grocery shopping.”

  “Grocery shopping?” I ask quirking my eyebrow.

  “Can’t have you eating crap, and I won’t eat it, so I

  would rather you not starve.”

  “You make it sound like I have no choice in the

  matter.” I laugh.

  “This thing that we’re doing, this dating another

  business include cooking lessons. Also, you need substance for all the fucking that will take place. Need to keep you food to fucking consumption on par.”

  “Wow, this conversation just took a turn.”

  “Speaking of fucking.”

  “I believe you’re the one speaking of it.” I deadpan.

  “We didn’t use anything, or actually I didn’t. Imma

  a dick, I apologize, but first thing in the morning, and you were smelling all good and your body was nestled in all the right places that I wasn’t thinking properly and then you

  were wanting more and one thing lead to another and then I was and you were and we were…” His voice trails off and

  his eyes get a little hazy with the remembrance.

  “Yeah. That’s okay. I’m on birth control and I’m

  super clean, like squeaky clean.”

  “So am I, and that really should have been

  something that I mentioned before I jammed my cock into

  you. But yeah.”

  “Yeah.” I breathe. Just discussing this is making my

  lady bits throb.

  “So then, how about we go shower?” He winks.

  “I can’t shower with you here.” I whisper leaning

  into him.

  “Why not?” He asks putting his hands on his hips.

  “Because, that’s-this is-no… this is your sisters

  house. I can’t do things in her house, that’s just not right.”

  “We’re both consenting adults, who also happen to

  be very newly dating, it’s normal to fuck anywhere we can.”

  He says.

  “We’re not hormonal teenagers who have to sneak

  off and do it in the backseats of cars on a parking garage roof!” I hiss.

  “Are you speaking from experience there?” He jests.

  I feel my face getting red with embarrassment.

  “Such a horn dog.” I tease. “I’m going back to my house.” I

  say turning my heel, hoping to give him the effect that I’m annoyed.

  “I’ll grab a change of clothes and be right over to

  join you.” He yells after me as I storm out of the house

  towards mine.

  Holy fuck! Holy Shit! I am apparently dating Gabe.

  We went from complete strangers to neighbors helping with

  housework to friends to dating all within a twenty-four hours span of time.

  I grab my phone and scroll to my text messages

  immediately pulling up Mindy’s thread.

  Me: Um. Your brother and I are dating.

  Mindy: Is this a good thing or a bad thing? I can’t

  tell.

  Me: Good thing?

  Mindy: Is that a question?

  Me: No?

  Mindy: Bullshit. I think you two can be good for

  another. Maybe you can open him up. He’s tightly

  wrapped.

  Mindy: Like a present. You know, think of it as my

  Xmas present to you. I just don’t want to hear about the

  unwrapping part, coz ew he’s my brother.

  Me: Just for that, I’m sharing ALL the details.

  Starting with: we unwrapped this morning!

  I smile as I text.

  Mindy: LA LA LA can’t hear you.

  P.S. that’s working fast. Hussy.

  Before I can continue texting, Gabe walks into the

  house and I hear him walking down the hall towards my

  room. He comes out searching for me a moment later

  looking confused.

  “I thought you ran.” He says blowing out a breath of

  air when he sees me.

  I’m standing in the middle of the kitchen holding my

  phone and bottled water. Unsure how to move, or what to do next.

  “Ye have so little faith.” I say setting down my

  phone and the water and stepping up to him. I put my hands on his sides, look up at him and smile. The worry on his face dissipates and a smile forms on his face.

  “Come on, I wanna dirty you up a little bit before we

  get clean.” He says grabbing my hand and walking in the

  direction of the bathroom.

  I sit with Stella on the couch watching television,

  keeping her occupied and company while Mindy and Dave

  run around the house getting everything ready for their

  weekend trip. I have no idea where Gabe is, but that doesn’t bother me much. We aren’t at a point where we have to tell another everything, and we can lead separate lives. Since we

  started dating, he’s been sleeping over at my house instead of his sister’s couch. He’s taken to trying to teach me how to cook, however I burn toast as evident as this morning when I tried to help with breakfast today.

  I hear footsteps on the stairs and Dave comes into

  the living area and loudly plops down on the recliner.

  “Why did I agree to this again?” He asks no one in

  particular.
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  “Cause daddy, you wanna make your ladies happy.”

  Stella boasts without taking her eyes off the screen.

  Dave and I link eyes and I can see the laughter

  wanting to burst from him. Instead he sits up straight and nods. “You’re absolutely correct Bean. I wouldn’t want my

  girls to be angry with me.” He then leans back and directs his attention to me. “Are you sure that you and Gabe don’t want to join us? It should be a good time. ”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know about Gabe, but I’ll

  have to pass. Thank you for the offer though. If I wasn’t

  starting work on Monday, I might.”

  “What are you and Uncle Gabe gonna do while

  we’re gone? You guys will be so lonely!” Stella gazes up at me with an exaggerated expression of horror on her little

  face.

  “Oh Bean dear, I think Vanessa and Uncle Gabe will

  find something to do while we’re all gone. Just not in our house, right?” He cringes looking around, and lingering on the couch.

  “Especially not here.” I assure him seeing the

  tension deflate immediately.

  “Daaaaaaaave! David!” Mindy yells from upstairs.

  “Damnit, she figured out I wasn’t up there

  anymore.” He smiles as he gets up.

  C H A P T E R

  Eleven

  The weekend that Mindy and company went away

  was relatively uneventful. Gabe and I spent the majority of it together, aside from a few hours on every other day where

  he said he had somewhere to be. I didn’t probe for details and took the time to myself to reflect on everything that’s been happening and happening fast. It’s the following

  weekend; everyone is next door, so Gabe is catching up with them. He wanted me to come with him but I decided that I

  didn’t want to suffocate him and his family, or force myself into the fold even though they treated me as family.

  I needed to be by myself and take a fresh look at

  things. Gabe and I haven’t discussed anything too deep, I

  haven’t asked about his time in France and he hasn’t asked about my family, but I know that it’s all just bubbling under the surface. Isn’t that what couples do? They discuss their lives, they share with one another?

  I haven’t had a real relationship since high school.

  College didn’t allow me the liberties of dating someone

  steadily. I used tinder and I used it for the purposes it was created for, hooking up. But I stayed away from anything with the word of commitment, I just didn’t have time. Now, I have plenty of time, but like Gabe said, he doesn’t know

  what his future holds; he can take a job in another city if one arises, and I should be okay with that. So, maybe that’s my excuse for not wanting to talk about those things, for not wanting to dig deeper, and if I’m being real here, I don’t want to particularly think about my family and all those

  emotions that the subject dredges up.

  I am exhausted after my first week back in an office

  setting, and I’ve spent the evening reading, when the front door opens and I hear two sets of footsteps walking into the house. I bookmark my space and lean over to have view of

  the hallway. Mindy, followed by Gabe comes over and he

  doesn’t look happy as she sits down on the couch.

  “Has he told you where he goes every few days?”

  Mindy asks, her voice full of concern.

  “I never asked. I don’t think I really need to. Should

  I have?” I ask looking at him. His eyes stay on me, clearly telling me that he’s not doing anything wrong.

  “I don’t know. Should she have Gabe?”

  “It’s something that I’m dealing with, why bring

  other people into the fold. This is my burden and no one

  needs to feel sorry for me.” He says quietly, breaking eye contact with me and focusing on his shoes.

  I start to stand, walk around Mindy and stand in

  front of Gabe.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask him.

  “Tell her Gabe. Tell her what you told me tonight.”

  She says standing behind me.

  “You don’t have to. He can tell me whatever on your own time. It’s okay.” I whisper.

  Gabe’s eyes go back and forth between Mindy and

  myself and he eventually lets out a sigh and moves over to sit on the stool at the counter.

  “I didn’t want to tell you, because you are dealing

  with your own shit. Remember when I said that I’m fucked

  in the head? Well I am, but I’m not when I’m with you, if

  that makes any sense.” I nod my head, because it’s almost

  like looking into the mirror as he says that.

  “I’m going to, um head next door. Come over or call

  if either of you need anything.” Mindy says retreating.

  “Hey Min?” Gabe calls after her. She stops, but

  doesn’t turn around. “We’re going to have words about how

  this came about.” She nods and continues out of my house.

  “Listen, you don’t need to feel like you need to say

  anything. I would understand.” I say, stepping between his legs into him.

  “No, even though I’m pissed at her for forcing the

  issue, it’s probably a good thing to talk about.” He takes a deep breath and looks at me. “I just want you to know, that even though I’m going to tell you something, it doesn’t mean that you need to feel obligated to talk or anything.”

  “Okay.” I reply meekly.

  “So, I lived in France. And as you may be aware,

  over the summer there were a crazy terrorist attack that took place in the city during a holiday celebration. A lot of people were injured and there were also some deaths. Misha, my

  roommate and I were out celebrating, and at a pub nearby.

  We got a message from a few other friends who were apart of the crowd plowed down by the driver of that truck

  moments before it happened to come and meet them. When

  we were on our way over, all we could hear from screaming

  and people were running in our direction as we were striding over to the scene, not thinking much about it. Turns out, one of our friends was a part of the death toll, whereas three of our other friends were injured and taken to a nearby hospital.

  The friend, who died, was – well she was a girl I was seeing at the time and what I didn’t know was that my roommate

  and she began seeing one another behind my back. While I

  was torn up about the whole thing, and should have been

  pissed off at my roommate, my best friend, I didn’t have

  time for that, because three days later… I received a phone call from one of my neighbors about hearing a gunshot in my flat.” He runs a hand over his face. “Misha, he had shot

  himself in the head over the guilt and her death. He wrote me a long letter detailing how sorry he was and how in love they were, that now I was supposed to mourn two instead of one.

  But the reality of everything is that I mourn the loss of my best friend rather than the woman I was seeing. I had no

  time to deal with the betrayal, it went immediately to loss.

  Almost as if the betrayal wasn’t a factor. For that I feel guilty, because Isabella and I shared some good times, but I didn’t mourn her, I mourned him. So, I took a few months to do what I had to do to close out everything over in France and finally landed state-side with no plan in place, I only had my luggage, my sister’s couch and a business card for a

  therapist. I see a grief therapist three times a week, and I suffer from some kind of PTSD.” He breathes out in a

  whirlwind.

  I lift my hand and caress his cheek. Without any

  words, I pull his face to mine and softly kiss his lips.
I press my face against his chest and hold him. Knowing how hard

  that could be to talk to someone about, especially someone you’re newly romantically involved with. I feel the urge to tell him about everything that happened with me, but I know that this is his moment and I do not want to take from it. He needs what little strength that I have right now.

  “Do you want to watch a movie with me, or would

  you prefer to be alone tonight?” I ask.

  “The last thing I want to do is be alone. I couldn’t

  think of a better way to spend right now other than being

  with you.” He whispers, his cheek resting on top of my head.

  C H A P T E R

  Twelve

  It’s not until the following week when Gabe brings

  up anything dealing with what he went through. We’re

  standing in my kitchen beside another in the morning

  pouring coffee. He’s wearing black sweats that hang off his hips showing the V that directs my eyes to his crotch and

  I’m wearing a pair of his boxer shorts and a thermal long

  sleeve top. We’re comfortable with another and it surprises me daily, he doesn’t let on that it affects him, but moments like this make me think that this relationship we have is

  different. He turns to me and frowns and suddenly my happy thoughts that I was thinking disappear.

  “So, we have to talk.” He starts.

  “This doesn’t sound good.” I mumble.

  “Well, that depends. I’m not sure how to navigate

  this, but I think things are going really great and I don’t want to potentially hide anything from you that could change that, but this… it might change it.” He motions for me to sit at the counter. He stands on the other side, puts his coffee down and his palms flat in front of him and takes a deep breath.

  “I have a job interview.” He starts. I smile, yet in the back of my mind I know that there is more to what he wants to say. “It’s in New York.”

  “Okay.” I say, not sure how to react but I can feel

  the sting and my eyes beginning to water.

  “I applied and sent everything over before anything

  ever happened with us. I’ve sent in portfolios to at least a dozen places, recently several in San Diego.” He says.

  “Okay.” I repeat staring at his shoulder.

  “Christmas is in two weeks, but the interview is for

  next week. They’re setting me up at The Grand for a few