Love Me
Page 3
“Yes. But you bought it,” he whined, as if it were my fault I could afford to buy it or able to hold down a job.
“Why are we even arguing about this?” I said more to myself than to him.
“It doesn’t matter,” he whispered as he ran his hands through his hair then down his face.
He leaned over with his elbows braced on his knees. “Kim. I’m going to be a dad.” The way his voice softened and the slight pull of his lips to keep from smiling shocked me. Every time I brought up us having a baby, he would get angry and storm out of the room because he didn’t want to be pressured.
In my exhaustion, I didn’t grasp what he meant. “No, you’re not. My period started.”
His face paled as his eyes met mine and that was when it hit me. Just when I thought my heart couldn’t take any more, he stabbed me with his words. “Not with you.” At least he gave me a look of sympathy, but I no longer wanted it.
I took in a deep breath as my nails dug into my knees. “Who?” I whispered.
He stared at his phone at another incoming message. “Her name is Abby, and I met her at my last job.”
“Last job? The one from six months ago?”
“Yes,” he said while tapping away on his phone.
“How far along is she?” I closed my eyes to prepare for the answer.
“Four months,” he stammered.
“Four months,” I had repeated before the burn of anger pushed its way out of my lungs. “Four fucking months and you’re just telling me now?” Then it hit me. “Oh my god. You were having sex with her when we had sex?” I screamed.
“Kim, the only time we had sex since I’ve been with Abby, was that one night when I drank too much. I didn’t want to cheat on her.” He drew in a breath and his eyes widened when he realized what he said. His face fell into a guilty expression when I stood up.
“What the hell? You didn’t want to cheat on her?” On the verge of becoming hysterical, I drew in deep breaths, but it was pointless. Overwhelmed with emotion, my words came out in one big spew. “I’m your wife!” I stabbed at my chest with each word.
“I love her,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper as he stood to face me with his chest heaving.
Who knew a heart could break? I felt the tear right down the center and it became harder and harder to breathe. I couldn’t take any more. I just couldn’t. From losing my best friend, to watching my sister disappear in her grief to hearing my husband tell me he loved someone else, it all hurt too much. When I picked up my phone to call Ryan, reality slammed into my chest. I fell to the ground in a weepy mess. “Leave,” I cried.
He didn’t make the slightest attempt to comfort me. “I’ll be back later this week to pick up the rest of my things. I don’t have much, so I don’t think it’ll take long.” When I lifted my head to glare at him, he was already at the front door with two duffle bags at his side. How did I miss them when I walked in? As he lifted them up, he turned to say something, but his mouth clamped shut as he shook his head. Seconds later, I heard his truck pull out of the driveway.
I sat on the floor and cried. I was alone again—still. No marriage, no kids and now no best friend. I wouldn’t recover from this.
At any other time, Ryan would’ve been the first person I called along with my sister. They would’ve dropped everything to be here with me, but now…
Alone with my grief, I ran to the fridge and chugged the half bottle of wine not bothering to pour it into a glass then pulled out another bottle from the pantry. Next, I poured Kahlúa into the half gallon of ice cream making a Kahlúa ice cream float.
Once I had what I needed to get through the night, I carried my stash to my bedroom and placed it on the bed. Not bothering to put on pajamas, I left my work clothes where they fell, climbed into bed and turned the TV on some random reality show. I zoned out while I ate and drank myself into oblivion.
5
I woke up lying on top of a sticky ice cream mess on the center of my comforter.
Gross.
The TV played some annoying morning talk show with overly cheerful anchors I wanted to hit in the face.
Didn’t they know Ryan died and my husband just left me for his girlfriend who was having the baby I always wanted?
“Selfish assholes!” I managed not to throw the remote at the TV and just yelled at the screen before turning it off.
My heart ached once again when I remembered. Ryan died.
He and Anna had been my best friends since I was a toddler. I didn’t want to think about life going on without him. I didn’t want to think about Anna and the kids without him.
Oh, the kids.
I grieved for them and the short time they had with him. Two-year-old Jakey most likely wouldn’t remember much in a few years. That might’ve been the most heartbreaking part of all. If I weren’t so selfish, I would have wished to trade places with them so they could’ve had more time with him, but I couldn’t. I didn’t know who I would’ve been without him.
When Ryan and Anna married and moved away for college, I struggled without him through my junior and senior year of high school. I made terrible decisions and they were only a phone call away. Now…
My stomach churned from the mixture of ice cream and wine or the reality of my life. I ran to the bathroom just in time to throw up a nasty combination of wine and ice cream. Not pretty. I swore to the porcelain gods I would never do that again, but there would be a repeat performance…probably tonight.
I didn’t want to think about Ryan, or Craig or the other woman having his baby.
“Jerkface.”
Why couldn’t I have picked someone like Ryan who cared about me? Why couldn’t I have picked a man who would’ve taken care of me and loved me?
I stood at the bathroom sink staring into the mirror at a woman I didn’t want to recognize. I rummaged through my purse for my phone and called my friend Tim. The moment he heard my voice, he said, “I’m on my way,” and hung up. I hadn’t had a chance to tell him about Ryan, let alone about my asshole husband.
I met Tim nearly sixteen years ago on the first day of our freshman year of college in a Drama 101 class. The moment he walked into the room, I admired his fit body, his tanned skin, his perfectly-styled hair and clothes that weren’t typical for a college boy and slumped my shoulders. When he took the seat next to mine and started chatting with me about my shoes, my hopes for a hook up went down the drain. Just my luck, the first hot guy to catch my interest in a long time had to be gay.
Though we were both very dramatic, neither of us cared for the class and often spent our time sitting back watching and quietly mocking the other students. Since then, not a day had gone by that we didn’t talk or text each other. It didn’t faze him being my number two friend. He didn’t have the same responsibilities that I put on Ryan. Tim and I got into trouble together and he never criticized me because he had the same poor judgment when it came to men and drinking.
That first day of class, I found out he had been a high school football star and paid for college with an athletic scholarship. Later I discovered Tim hadn’t come out of the closet yet. In fact, I was the first person he openly admitted it to. Of course, he only did it after five shots of tequila and me repeating, “You can tell me.” until he couldn’t stand it anymore.
It had taken almost four more years before he came out to his family, friends, and teammates. I supported him and encouraged him and in exchange, he did the same for me. He listened to me spill my guts about horrible hook-ups and the guys that never called.
What would I do without him? Ryan was my ‘love you, always’ friend who protected me and had good reasoning skills. Tim was my ‘let’s get crazy and regret it in the morning’ friend.
Tim must have sped the whole way, because I could have sworn we hung up only a few minutes ago when he ran into my house calling my name. I cried out from my bedroom. He pushed the door open to see me leaning against the bed with my legs pulled up to my chest and my face
planted between my knees.
Kneeling down next to me, he didn’t make a move to touch me; he just inspected me. I saw myself in the mirror. I looked terrifying with yesterday’s makeup, my hair in a ratty mess with, what I assume were chunks of throw up and only wearing my bra and panties.
“What did that asshole do now?” he sighed.
I lifted my head and looked him in the eyes. “He left me last night because his girlfriend is having a baby and my best friend in the whole world died last night.”
“Ryan? Oh, my god, I’m so sorry!” He wrapped his arms around me. “Honey, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to reply to first.”
“Me neither. I just feel so...” What was I feeling? The most emotional pain that ever existed seemed like an accurate description.
“Fucked?” he asked.
That would sum it up.
“Yes.” I sniffed.
He held me while I cried on his shoulder. When I finally calmed down, I noticed him looking around my room with his brows pulled in and his nose scrunched.
“What the hell is that smell?” He stood up and looked on the bed at the melted ice cream mess on my comforter. He pointed at it. “Do I even want to know what that is?”
“Ice cream,” I replied. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it cleaned. I won’t leave it like that.”
“No. You’re going to throw that out. That comforter is hideous. Why would you buy it? I thought you had better taste than that.”
Just thinking of the reason made me cry again. “I...I bought it for Craig so he would feel more comfortable in here. He even picked it out.” I wiped my nose on the offending blanket.
“No wonder.” Tim left the room without saying a word and came back a moment later with a trash bag that he proceeded to fill with the comforter then left again after tying up the top. When he came back into my bedroom, he sniffed again and kept sniffing until he stood next to me.
“Good lord girl, you need to shower and brush your mouth out with bleach.” He held his hand out for me and pulled me to my feet. I mumbled, “Jerk” at his not so gentle way of telling me I stunk.
“No offense,” he said as an afterthought. “Once you’re cleaned up, you can tell me all about it.” At times, it hurt to be friends with someone so honest but at the same time, I also loved that about him.
I followed him into the bathroom where he leaned into the shower to turn it on while I finished getting undressed. He prepped my toothbrush and handed it to me after I stepped into the shower then left while I finished. When I strolled out of the bathroom feeling slightly better, I noticed a clean pair of yoga pants, a tank top, and sweatshirt. He must love me because he hated it when I wore “loungewear” all day. It was a pet peeve of his, and it touched me that he would be so thoughtful.
Once I finished getting dressed, I followed my nose to the kitchen where he had brewed a pot of coffee and made me breakfast. He handed me a mug and pulled out a chair for me to sit at the table. He went back and forth between flipping pancakes and pointing at me with the spatula. “Okay, the first thing you need to do is get out of this house for a few days. You can stay at my place for a few nights. I don’t think you should be alone right now.”
I sighed with a half-smile. “This is why I love you.”
“I know,” he said matter-of-factly.
“What about James? He won’t mind?” I asked.
He and James had spent years being on and off again boyfriends. More off than on. James treated him like crap, but I was in no position to judge. Who would understand him better than me? I stayed in a bad marriage and made the same bad choices.
“Probably, but I don’t care right now. You’re more important.”
“You guys fighting again?” When weren’t they?
He shrugged his shoulders. “Still.”
“How did we end up with such lousy lovers?” I asked not really wanting to delve into the reasons and positive he would rather jump into a tank filled with sharks then answer that question.
“Honey, if I knew I would have fixed it already.”
Tim sat across from me with two plates full of pancakes. I sighed again. “You realize you’re going to have to be my number one now. Right? You’re going to have to give me good advice and tell me when I’m being stupid instead of joining me. You’re also going to have to hug me a lot more.”
Tim looked at me with sad eyes and nodded before taking my hand and using his other to push a plate of pancakes in front of me.
6
I pulled a beer out of Anna’s fridge and attempted to sneak past my mother and Amber, who were speaking in hushed tones near the kitchen sink. Even for being a people person, there were still too many people in this house giving their condolences for my taste. They were making it difficult to breathe, and I needed a moment to myself.
Just as I reached the sliding glass door to make my escape to the backyard, a warm hand touched my arm. Amber leaned into me and gave me a kiss on the cheek and handed me a jacket.
Giving me a weak smile of understanding, Amber turned and went back to dish duty. She had been hiding in the kitchen most of the day making food and cleaning up, avoiding having to talk to mourners.
Pete understood her better than any of us and protectively watched over her, making sure she didn’t have to speak with anyone but family. Amber appeared to be keeping it together, at least in front of Anna and the kids. But not two hours earlier, I caught her and Pete embracing in the garage. I listened to her weep into his chest as he tried to soothe her. I should’ve given them privacy, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of them. The way they cared for each other explained so much about Ryan. He was just like Pete, and I hadn’t realized how much until that moment.
Was.
I hated that word.
I stepped out onto the deck and headed straight for the kids’ swing set and sat on the plastic seat. After taking a long pull of my beer, I lifted my feet and pumped my legs. Leaning back, I closed my eyes and concentrated on the motion of going back and forth, higher and higher.
It had been raining most of the day, so the ground remained wet and soggy along with the seat. I didn’t care. I didn’t want to care about anything at that moment.
Ryan’s urn sat on the fireplace mantel in the living room. From the moment I walked in this morning, I had avoided looking at it. Just the idea of him being ash made my stomach twist into a knot.
Taking another skip, I observed Anna through the wall of windows on the back of the house as she comforted others while she should’ve been allowed to mourn. But she didn’t. If I didn’t know better, I would have believed she died right along with Ryan. Her skin paled, and her voice sounded small when she spoke. Worst of all, the light in her eyes had gone out.
I let the stray tears fall down my cheek and took another drink wishing and hoping the alcohol would erase that look on Anna’s face from my memory. I looked up at the sky as it began to sprinkle growing heavier every minute.
Wiping the drops of rain from my eyes, I dared another look at the house and caught Anna standing in front of the sliding glass door leading to the deck. She leaned her head against the door, closing her eyes. Her chest rose and fell in exaggerated movements, the glass on the window fogged where her breath met the glass. She blinked her eyes open and looked out to the backyard. I didn’t think she could see me, but the look on her face… devastated. She would never be the same.
Anyone who met Ryan liked him, so it wasn’t surprising to see the number of people who came in and out of her house today giving their condolences. I wondered how Anna could stand it. If I had to listen to another person tell me how sorry they were, I would scream. The word sorry didn’t help anyone and who did it make feel better?
I planted my feet in the mud below the swing, stopping my movements and kept watching her. Anna looked over her shoulder before she slid open the door and stepped out lifting her face to the sky allowing the rain to soak her. After taking two deep breaths, she walked towards me.
When I looked over at her, she leaned back with her eyes closed but with tears streaming down her face. She stopped suddenly planting her feet on the ground. “I need them to leave, Kimmie. I can’t take any more.”
Relieved she gave me something to do, I stood and offered her my hand. “I’ll take care of it. Where do you hide the hard liquor?”
She took my hand, and a flicker of a smile crossed her face before the sadness overwhelmed her again. “Above the fridge.”
“Meet me in your room. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Either Pete or I will take care of the stragglers.”
Before I pushed her toward the stairs, I pulled her into a hug. Anna’s short and petite frame, the complete opposite of mine, made me feel like a giant next to her but today she seemed frail as if any sudden movements would snap her like a twig. I let her go and watched her walk up the steps to the second floor of the deck that led to her and Ryan’s bedroom.
When Anna stepped into her bedroom, I slid open the sliding glass door drawing attention from my mother and Amber. They weren’t talking but working together placing leftovers into containers. I reached above the fridge and pulled out bottles of alcohol along with some shot glasses. Mom looked over at me with a worried expression on her face. “Kimmie? What are you doing?”
“I’m taking care of Anna.”
Mom’s eyes squinted, and I heard her huff before she said, “You’ll turn her into an alcoholic.” I rolled my eyes and refused to comment. Instead, I went in search of Pete. When I found him, I waved my hand, he excused himself from his circle of friends and made his way toward me. He looked at my full arms and asked, “Anna?”