In Other Words
Page 22
I grab just about everything, and am leaning forward to grab a pair of Dex’s jeans when an envelope falls out of his pocket and its contents, go flying across the floor. I bend forward to pick them up and replace them in the envelope so whatever it is doesn’t get lost. I grip the envelope, then pick up something flesh-colored that’s heavier than it looks like it should be.
Upon closer inspection, I realize it’s a bandage. When I grab it, though, it still feels unreasonably heavy, and I realize something round and flat is inside. I dump it out into my palm, and run my fingers over it. It’s smooth like a large, flat pebble or thick coin. I see the word S-A-N-A written across the back in marker, with Prototype II below it.
That’s the new hearing device Dex’s company made.
When I drop it back in the envelope, I see several more bandages in there.
The realization hits me like a Louisville Slugger right to the heart.
Bandages…the device…my first few dates with Cole.
The room spins.
Cole had a bandage on cheek during our second date—the first date on which we really clicked. The date on which he took me to the planetarium and Victor Hugo—things we never did after those first few weeks of dating. He had it for the next few dates, too…the ones where he swept me off my feet…the ones where he knocked my socks off.
My stomach churns as I piece everything together. My jaw is clenched and I’m frantic as I walk back to the bedroom to get my clothes.
Dex wakes up when he hears me rummaging around for my things.
“Clair? What are you doing, sweetheart? Come back to bed.”
“I’m leaving.” Tears are burning my cheeks.
“Leaving? What? Why?” He bolts up, rubbing his eyes, still naked under the thin blanket that’s draped across him.
I walk over to the bed with the envelope still clutched in my hand. I slap it against his chest, pressing the envelope to it.
“Here’s why. How could you, Dex? You two lied to me? Tricked me? How fucking could you?!” I turn to keep searching for my shoes.
“Wait, I can explain,” he offers feebly, picking up his shorts from the floor and hastily stepping into them. “I just…we just…,” he shakes his head, but it’s clear there’s no answer. How could there be?
“I never thought you, of anyone, would betray me like this! What was it? Some sort of pact? A sick bet of some kind? Did you just want to see if you could both get me to sleep with you?”
My stomach heaves at the idea.
“Just wait, sweetheart, I just…,” he reaches out to touch me and I squirm from his grasp.
“No! You said you loved me—that you always have. But you tricked me into liking Cole. You put those words in his mouth, didn’t you?”
The expression on his face is all the affirmation I need.
“I can’t…believe…,” My words hitch and I can’t even finish the sentence. I storm out, walking to the street to call an Uber to take me back to my car at Anna’s.
.-- --- -. -.. . .-.
“Sinclair? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His voice is hazy, as if he were concentrating on something else when I called.
“I’m okay, Daddy. I—I just had a bad night. Really bad night. Can you please come meet me to talk?” I will my voice not to crack.
The neon donut with his winking eye and crooked crown are reflected in the hood of my car. I scan the windows of the place, and there are only three or four people inside at this late hour. Half of them are cops, so I figured it would be a safe place to stop before I got to my parents’ house.
“Of course I will, Kitten. Where are you?”
“Donut King in Mineola. I’m…not ready to talk to Mom just now. Could you come on your own?”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Grab us a booth and order me a custard.” I hear the smile in his voice and I smile a little too.
He might be the last man on earth I can truly count on.
Inside, the woman whose face betrays a lifetime of hard work walks to the end of the counter where my booth is located and takes my order.
“You got it, doll,” she turns to retrieve the donuts and returns a moment later with a coffee pot. She turns over the two mugs which have been resting face-down on the table. “So, cheat, thief, or liar?”
“I’m sorry?” I’m unsure if she’s actually talking to me.
“Pretty thing like you stumbles into this place at this hour, you got man troubles. So, is he a cheat, a thief, or a liar?” She smiles at me as she rests a hand on the fabric of the pink apron on her hip.
“Oh,” I give her a small smile. “Liar, I guess. Or cheat, maybe, if I’m being literal about it. He wasn’t the man I thought he was,” I take a sip of my coffee, then correct myself. “Neither of them were.”
She makes a tsk noise and rolls her eyes skyward. “Good riddance to them both then. I don’t know who’s meetin’ you here, but my friends in blue down the end of the counter there will be around if you need them, and so will I.” She gives me a conspiratorial wink and goes back to flirting with the older of the two cops at the far end of the restaurant.
My dad walks in a few minutes later, and I jump up and throw my arms around him. As soon as I do, the waterworks start and I can’t stop them. He doesn’t take the seat across from me.
“Scoot.” He sits at the end of the booth beside me, wrapping me in a protective arm.
“Now,” he pulls a piece of donut away with his free hand and stuffing it into his mouth. “Tell me whatever stupid thing that idiot did.”
I laugh. “You immediately assume someone’s done something?”
“Well, first of all, I’ve been married to your mother a long time. I hate to admit it, but in the early days, I put the same look on her face you have on yours…more than once, I’m afraid. Second of all, you’re my princess. You’re perfect. So, it only stands to reason, if you’re upset, it’s because some guy is an idiot.” He deposits a kiss on top of my head and takes a sip of coffee.
I calm down and Daddy takes his spot across from me so we can talk properly. I tell him everything that happened. I tell him how I broke up with Cole weeks ago, and how Dex and I talked about our feelings…how I thought we were getting together. I explain how sick I feel at having been, for all intents and purposes, conned into a relationship with a man I didn’t even really like all that much at first, and how the man I trusted most is the one who did the damage.
He blows out a deep breath as he turns his coffee cup round in circles on its napkin. “That’s a tough one, Sinclair.” He beckons for the waitress and asks for two more donuts and another round of coffee. “I mean, I can see why you feel like you do. The tricky part is, though, that you’re still in love with him. What are you going to do about that?”
“With Cole? I’m not in love with him, Daddy. I cared for him, maybe even loved him in a way, but he’s not the man I thought he was. I am definitely not in love with him.” I shake my head. “That’s over.”
“I know. I was talking about Dexter. He’s the one you’ve really been in love with this whole time.”
I start to reply, but I don’t find words to confirm his suspicion. I just stare at him.
“That’s what I thought.” My dad raises his eyebrows in that way that is particular to fathers when they know they’re right. “Question is, can you forgive him?”
I stare out the window of the donut shop for a long moment, then rub my face with my palms.
“I don’t know, Daddy. I can’t understand why he would do what he did…why he would betray me if he really cares about me? I mean, he does this, sets me up with his friend based on total lies, and then a few months later, we—,” I stop myself and my eyes meet my father’s.
“I know it’s only been a few weeks since you split with Cole, you said, but this thing between you and Dexter has been brewing a long, long time, sweetie. I can see that.”
“Maybe he doesn’t really love me. Maybe he was just using me, too.”
I look down, and when I see the text message, my eyes fill with tears.
DEXTER: Sam, I think Clair is headed to see you. Wanted you to know.
ME: What happened? Is she okay?
DEXTER: I think she will be. I hurt her, though. Bad. I don’t know how to fix it.
ME: Thanks for letting me know. I’ll be on the lookout for her.
DEXTER: Please just keep me posted on how she’s doing.
ME: I will. Is there anything you need?
DEXTER: Not unless you’ve got a time machine. When she’s ready, please just tell her how sorry I am…and how much I love her.
.-- --- -. -.. . .-.
The next morning, I wake up in my parents’ guest bed, surrounded by the only boys I know for sure would never hurt me. I’m flanked on every side. Athos has curled up under my arm on one side, Porthos is stretched out, lengthwise on the other side, and he’s almost as long as I am tall with his paws outstretched. At my feet, Aramis lays with his head propped up on my shin like a pillow. The newest member of the pack, little D’Artagnan, is curled up in a ball at the top of my shoulder, nuzzling his little snout into the curve of my neck as he lets out little puppy snores.
I give them each a pet to rouse them from sleep, get up, and make my way downstairs. My Mom is out on the back deck, drinking her coffee and reading her Kindle.
“There you are,” she jumps up to come hug me tightly. “Your father said you had a rough night and needed some sleep.” She smooths the hair back from around my face. “Feeling any better?”
“Well, I got some sleep, at least.” I give her a wry smile.
“I don’t know all the details, and I don’t need to know, but I’ll just say this,” she pauses, and I brace myself for the worst. Instead, she wraps me in her arms again and kisses my cheek. “I love you, Sinclair, and we will support you in any way you need while you get through whatever is going on.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I squeeze her back then join her at the patio table. “I don’t feel like talking about it anymore, so I’ll just say this: I didn’t trust my gut, and now everything is a mess.” I shake my head. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to stay here a couple of days and figure things out.”
Dad walks outside and the pups follow him, placing themselves around me in various positions, vying for my attention. I swear they know I’m hurting and they just want to help.
“You can stay here as long as you like. Hell, quit your job and move in for all I care. I could use some help with the llamas.” She winks as she takes a sip of her coffee.
“Thanks,” I smile and pick up D’Artagnan, squeezing him close. “Speaking of, how’s Larry doing?”
“He’s fat and fluffy,” Dad sets a cup of coffee down in front of me. “We’ll go see him after breakfast, if you like.”
After we eat bagels and cream cheese, I call my boss. I tell her I need to take the week off for a family emergency. Knowing about Kelly’s accident, she assumes it’s something related, and I let her. She doesn’t need to know my life is falling apart. Next, I call Anna and Lily and give them the Cliff Notes version of what happened.
My girls are sympathetic, and they don’t push for more details, which makes me love them all the more.
“As soon as you get home, we’re bringing over the only dependable boys: Ben and Jerry,” Anna chuckles.
“Also, Jim and Jack,” Lily adds.
“I love you crazy bitches with my whole heart, ya know?”
“Anything for you, babe. Girls rule, boys drool!” Anna winks from my phone screen.
I spend a long time letting the hot shower wash over my skin. I want it to rinse away last night, and maybe even all the days and nights since I first got back to Dallas.
The first night I hung out with Dex after I got back, I should’ve just told him how I felt. If I had just been willing to tell him that I was in love with him, that I always had been, things might have ended differently.
As much as I try to turn the thoughts off, I can’t shake my confusion as to why he would help Cole and betray me like he did. I think of the look on his face the night he held me.
It’s you…it’s always been you—even when we were just kids…I’m in love with you, Clair.
Just the thought of those words make my face grow hot and my throat burn. Then I think of his text to Dad last night. He was worried about me, but he didn’t come after me, even though he knew I’d come home. He knew I wanted space.
Please tell her how sorry I am…and how much I love her.
I compose myself enough to get dressed and head out to the livestock barn. As soon as I walk in, Larry comes ambling up to see me.
“Hey, buddy. You remember me, don’t you? Yes you do!” I coo as he nudges me with his head, and I scratch between his ears, earning an appreciative bleat.
I watch the other young llamas about his size as they frolic and play together, but Larry stands back a little, seeming almost too shy to join in. Instead, he keeps coming back to me, nudging me for pets. At one point he grabs a large, nubby ball that’s in the pen with his teeth and hurls it at me.
“Are you trying to play ball with me, Larry?”
Bleat!
“You want me to throw it?” I hold it in the air.
Bleat!
At first, I am stunned that this little guy knows how to play fetch. Then, I remember how well-trained the musketeers are, and it seems to only make sense that Mom would treat them like puppies.
I throw him the ball a few times, and he snatches it up, trotting happily back to where I’m standing against the fence time and again. After a few minutes, my Dad comes out and lets them out into their small pasture.
“Come on. Let’s go see the horses.”
We walk over to the stable, and he nods toward the largest stall, the one at the end. “Take a look.”
I unhook the top half of the door and swing it open. Inside, I see Goldie, Mom’s favorite mare, her belly swollen as she paces back and forth.
“She’s pregnant? Dad, that’s great news! So she finally took to the dapple?” I’m excited that there’s going to be a foal on the farm next year.
“Much to your mother’s chagrin, she did not.” He cocks his brows up as he tips his head toward me. “There was a small, sort of skittish stallion that she kept trying to get out of the breeding pen to see. Every time the dapple came near her, she nearly kicked him to death. Anyway, we were supposed to go pick her up—decided we better try again next cycle. Well, wouldn’t you know it?” He chuckles. “That little quiet one broke the fence down to get to her. The Evanstons went out to get her, and the two of them were going at it like rabbits. Every time they tried to break them up so we could put her in the transport, they’d run off to the far end of the pen, nuzzling each other, terrified of getting separated.”
I look at him, my eyes soft. “Dad. Seriously, that’s just…,” I trail off and he finishes my thought.
“Adorable. I know. Your Mom didn’t think so, but, what’s that old saying? The heart wants what the heart wants.” He laughs. “Guess that goes for horses, too.”
“So the stallion? Is he still at the Evanstons’?” I ask, noticing, now, that Goldie looks a little sad.
“Nope. He was carrying on, braying constantly, just breaking his heart that Goldie was gone, so they had to get rid of him.” Dad says with shrug.
“No! Is he far away? Can they still see each other?” I know I must be feeling overly emotional because I’m clearly far too invested in this horse love story.
Dad winks at me, and steps into Goldie’s stall, putting the bridle on her and leading her out to the back pasture. As he opens the gate, a small, brown and white stallion whips his head in our direction and begins galloping up toward us. Dad releases Goldie and the two run to each other, nuzzling and playing. It’s one of the cutest damn things I’ve ever seen.
>
“Seriously?” I look at my dad. “I can’t even right now.”
“I know, it’s crazy, huh? No matter how much we tried to make her like that good-looking stud, she kept going back to the one she wanted. Nothing on this planet could’ve kept them apart.” He smiles as he looks at them. “At least now our girl is happy.”
She knew what she wanted, and she wouldn’t take no for an answer. I wish it were half as easy for me.
CHAPTER 33
Sinclair
THIS MAY HAVE BEEN the most productive week I’ve had since I’ve moved back to Dallas. I’ve spent the last week polishing up my resume, and translating my sales skills to fit some job ads I’ve found for non-profits. I also enrolled in an online course in grant-writing, which will come in handy if a non-profit decides to take a gamble on me.
If I leave the pharmaceutical firm, I’ll have to pay back the moving expenses that they paid on my behalf since I’ll be breaking my two-year commitment. So, to offset the lower salary and one-time repayment, I spruced up the guest room, and I’m about to take out an ad for a roommate.
I haven’t talked to Dex. I am more heartbroken over that than anything. He’s been part of my life since I was nineteen years old. He has texted me a few times to say he’s thinking about me—that he misses me, but always adds that he knows better than to expect a reply.
I am sorting through things to take a box of old clothes to a local charity that provides clothes for job interviews for women transitioning out of shelters. When I go to grab an old blazer out of the top of one of the boxes I brought back from Cole’s, on top of the box I see the photo Dex gave me when I moved in.
I pick up the frame, tracing the words from the programming text book with the tip of my finger. Then I look at our faces in the photo.