“What job? At the firm?” He’s worried.
“No, not yet. I’m dancing at Robert’s clubs.” My fingers tingle feeling the somersaults underneath them and I caress my skin, overwhelmed with warmth. He would love to take my picture to paint right now and it breaks my heart.
“Hmm.” He pauses. “You’re not stripping, right? Just dancing?”
“Yes, just dancing. No stripping. They’re two completely different jobs. I have to shake my ass with class.”
“Do you want to or do you have to?”
“Both. I need my own space to put my stuff before I empty the house for the bank to take it back. I can make enough to get an apartment in a few weeks.”
“It would probably make you happy, to be on your own.”
“Yeah. I can’t keep doing what I’m doing for the rest of my life. At least with this I can get a jump on everything by the time I get a real job. And you know I like dancing. Robert doesn’t let anyone leave alone. I have pepper spray.”
“Robert not letting anyone leave alone doesn’t make me feel better.”
“I’ve never taken any opportunities with him.” I squeeze my eyes shut tight. “I really liked you.”
“I love you so much, Nikki. I didn’t mean to let you think I would ever do anything to hurt you like that.”
“I hear you’re doing amazing things in New York.” I try to stop the tears.
“I hear you haven’t been able to eat and were sleeping all day.”
“Yeah. I don’t want to talk about it.” I feel like I’m on a rollercoaster, hearing his voice and feeling him inside of me. It’s confusing to feel so many conflicting emotions I wish I was just numb in all the places I want to be.
“I’m sorry about Turtle.”
“She was a good cat. She was there for Dexter when he needed her. He took it hard. He told the guy who hit her he’d kill him.”
“There were probably a lot of things going on he took out on that. And that’s okay.”
I nod, sniffling. I just want to cry all the time.
“I’m sorry I fucked everything up. I wanted this to be good. I wanted you to be happy. But I didn’t do it right. I was selfish and I hurt you and I’m sorry.”
“I made the mistake of thinking I could keep my feelings light. I don’t want to ruin your life. I don’t want to lose your mom. I’ve killed my relationships with your mom and sister because I wanted to have it all. And now I realize it was a really dangerous game.”
“You can have it all. They love you.”
“Not this much.” More tears fall.
“When I come home for my break will you go to one of my gallery showings with me?”
“Of course. But I don’t know how I feel about us.”
“It’s okay. No pressure. I love you, Nikki. You’re the first and last thing I think about every day. But no pressure.”
I step into the bathtub and let myself sink into the hot water.
“Are you okay?” He’s so passionately concerned.
I burn everywhere in want of his fingers, it’s all I think about. “Yeah.”
“We don’t have to talk about us. How’s life at my parents’ house?”
“Your mom told me her life story today.” I move my hand back to my belly, thinking thoughts I shouldn’t.
“How did that come up?”
“I asked some good questions.”
“Where are you?” he asks with a husky voice.
“I’m taking a bath.” I take a breath, moving my hand down my body. “Wanna come?”
“Yes. I do.”
I listen to his breaths and he listens to mine and tells me how he wants me, and what he wants to do the next time we’re in the woods. I close my eyes and I can almost imagine he’s here, whispering in my ear as I touch myself. I listen to his voice get ragged, and his breath quicken. The sound he makes when he comes pushes me over the edge.
I lie in bed in my soft robe afterwards, eyes closed, sleepy and sated. “That was good but nothing compared to the real thing.” It was a band-aid over a persistent ache which doesn’t help at all.
He responds in a grunt. “Don’t talk to me with your post sex voice when I’m a million miles away,” he says quietly.
“Hmm.” I smile dreamily. “Guess how much money I made tonight.”
“How much?” he says with his sexy voice.
“Almost three hundred bucks.”
“For shaking your ass fully clothed?” he asks.
“I’m a good dancer.”
“I’m proud of you. I’m glad you got someone to pay you for doing what you like.”
I look at the clock. Shit it’s late. “I have to go to bed.”
“But I haven’t told you how much I’ve made yet.”
“How much?”
“So much, Nikki,” he tells me in a whisper, “A lot. Between your booty shaking and my mainstream art, we’re going to be able to tear up Olympia one of these days.”
“That’s good. I’m proud of you.” I smile.
“I had an opening last weekend and already sold eleven paintings. Crazy, right? Are my paintings that good? I’m getting interviewed in three different art magazines. I don’t have time to think cuz I’m getting so many commissions. Did I tell you about my project?”
He’s so excited. I can hear it in his voice. I wish I wasn’t so exhausted. “No, you didn’t.”
“I got approved for this grant. It’s to travel across the whole entire country to paint Native American portraits on reservations. It’s called an Edward S. Curtis grant. Will you come with me?”
“Yes,” I say quietly, sleepy, dreaming about travelling with him across deserts and plains and mountains, wagon-training.
“Good. I think you must be half asleep otherwise you wouldn’t have said yes. Goodnight, Nikki. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Chapter Forty-five
Nikki
It’s Monday after a late Sunday and I woke up for my interview with Marc and his buyer at the firm. I got up early and went running to give myself some natural energy, but after two cups of coffee with a double shot of espresso and an energy drink I’m exhausted and wired and I’ve been peeing like crazy.
But my nice, tailored suit is amazing and looks amazing. I’m looking at myself in my car windows as I walk to the house.
I take my blazer off and put it on the back of the chair at the bar and come around to help Natalie cook.
She smiles at me and hands me a bowl of potatoes to peel. “How’d it go?”
“I start Thursday. I think it was my awesome suit that did all the talking. I love business attire. I look totally hot.”
“Hotter than your booty cutters and go-go boots?”
“The booty cutters have nothing on the construction of this piece.” I set the bowl down and start peeling potatoes. “What are we making for lunch today?”
“Two potato salad and a pork loin. I was thinking maybe tomorrow you’d like to go apartment shopping? I know you’re probably beat today.”
I look at her face and her smile. “Really?” I throw my arms around her, loving her. “I don’t know the first thing about it but I’m sure I have enough for a deposit.”
She grins, pulling away to look at me. “I know you need your own space,” she looks at me seriously, “but I expect you to come home Sundays for dinner and whenever you’re not working. You need to be home for lunch, dinner, breakfast, to talk, anything, because I love you and you are my daughter and I need to keep track of you.”
I try to smile because I know it’s what I’m supposed to do but all I see is my mother’s lifeless body lying there all alone. I see her face and the spray of blood.
I sit because I can’t stand like this. It hurts like so much pressure on my heart I can’t take it. I miss my mom. She’s dead and she’s never coming back and I’m betraying her by letting another woman mother me.
And I’m betraying the only other mother I’ve really ever had, the only one I have left.<
br />
She holds me and rubs my back. “You okay?”
I try to get control and get the bloody images out of my mind. I try to remember she was mean and crazy and she never loved me but then I remember how she used to braid my hair and sing Russian songs to me with her pretty smile and I want to scream and tear off my skin.
“Do you want to talk?”
I sob, bracing myself on the edge of the seat and the bar. I have had too many drinks today. “I’m sorry. I’m tired. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.” I get up and walk away.
Chapter Forty-six
Ares
I’m in a meeting with Linda, my agent. She has a stack of applications for different projects. She’s telling me about an opening for up and coming young artists held by other young artists I should think about doing but all I can think about is a painting in my head entitled “Homesick.” And the next one of me and Nikki in my parent’s barn entitled “Sex with Nikki.” There’s another one I haven’t gotten all worked out yet I’m calling “Sad Girl.” After all of those are done and out of my head I can move on to my more scary pieces: “Fear Behind the TV,” “Anger Under the Table,” “Safety,” “Dead Deer,” and my big one will be “Bows and Arrows Versus Buckshot.” And another big one, “Thank You for Your Soul.”
“Do you have any new work?”
“I will.” I nod, pretty confident. “I’ll probably be painting nonstop from now ‘til I get it all out.” I look at the clock. I need to get some supplies before the shops close. This meeting is taking forever.
“Sounds exciting. Can’t wait to see it,” she says, shuffling through papers.
“I don’t know. It might rock some boats.” I think of my mother seeing those pieces, and those titles. And my father if he comes. Most of them are for him.
“Life is worth a little boat rocking.”
I slip back into my head, painting while she briefs me on all the things I’ve been put in pools of prospects for. There’s a public works project for a children’s center I’m interested in. I take the stack of papers she’s holding out to me and look at the public works packet. “Can you find me stuff like this to do at home, too? I’d like some Native American work too if you can find any.”
“Yeah, for sure. All sorts of things come up. I didn’t think you would go for the Native American stuff. It’s easy to get stuck so be careful.”
I frown, not knowing exactly what to think about that.
I sink in my chair and wait out the end of the meeting.
I pull my phone out of my pocket as I walk the street from the office to the campus. I dial Nikki’s number. She’s sniffling and I frown. “Hey. What’s going on? Are you okay?” I sit at a table in front of a bagel shop to talk. The art supply store is a couple of blocks away.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she sniffles.
My stomach drops. “Can’t do what?” Things have been going better, she’s cool towards me but I thought she was forgiving me and I know it’s mostly her shield so she doesn’t get hurt.
“This,” she says tearfully.
“Why? What happened?”
“My mom is gone and she’s never coming back. I want you and I want you to come home but I’m not good for you. I don’t have a family and I’m going crazy and I don’t have anything. I have nothing and when you end up hating me I’ll have less than nothing.” She’s crying now. “And your mom…I can’t take it.”
I frown deeply. “You want me to come home?” I take a quick breath. I want to be home with her so bad, but it’s not workable right now. It would take a while to actually get home. I have classes and work. I can’t quit. If I don’t finish, all this time will have been wasted. My bank account has never dreamed of getting this much play. My life is full of possibilities and her life is full of possibilities because I want her to be a part of my life forever.
I just need time.
“Being with you made me feel like everything was going to be okay but I can’t feel like that because it isn’t okay.”
I can hear her trying to calm down and I sit forward to lean on the table. “Nikki? I’ll come home if you need me to.”
“I had my interview at the firm and I start Thursday. Your mom said we could go look at apartments tomorrow. She started talking about how much she loved me and how I’m her daughter and she wants me to come over all the time. And I’m happy. But if she knew who I really am she’d hate me. I don’t deserve any of this but I don’t want to lose it.”
“Where are you right now?” I ask gently.
“In my room at your house. In the closet,” she sniffles.
I smile. “So you’re working with Marc, huh? At the firm? I get to see you in sexy secretary clothes when I come back to work?”
“Yeah.” She pauses, gathering herself. “So, what are you up to? What were you calling about?” She’s pretending she’s okay.
I can hear her wiping away tears.
I tell her everything. “So I have to hit the art supply store and then lock myself in my room and bare my soul to create my masterpieces. I’d like you to come with me to my Aberdeen show. I’m going to show my pieces of you there.” I get a rush thinking about those pieces of her.
“Okay.”
“Will you be okay? I’ll try to keep track of time but it’s hard when I’m in it.”
“Do what you have to do. This is your job. You have a lot of work to do.” She pauses and it’s not a good pause. I know she’s trying to fight the crying.
“Yes. I have a goal and it involves you. And I know you can do this.”
“Yes.” She makes her voice so calm and straight.
“I want to take all your pain away. But I don’t think I could even if I was there. You are so strong and so full of life. I know you’re going to make it.”
She doesn’t say anything.
“I want to come home and hold you. I wish I didn’t have to leave so soon. I wish I could have stayed and held you longer.”
“I want you to make me feel better.”
I look at the people as they pass by on the street. They have no idea the girl on the other end of my phone is talking about sex making all her problems go away with desperation in her voice or what the words and voice are doing to me. It’s art but it’s not healthy. “Then maybe it’s good you have to figure it out instead of covering it with sex. Maybe this is what needs to happen in order for us to work out our issues.”
“What about you? Are you working on yours?” She sounds a little pissy.
Pissy is better than desperate. “I’m definitely thinking about them.” I scrunch my face and look at the gray clouds. It’s starting to snow.
I need to do something.
I can’t be the man I want to be until I get over this. “How are you now?”
“I don’t know.” She’s back to sadness.
“I hate it here. I can’t wait to see you. And your apartment. Will you let me see it?” I smile, hoping it’s not all ruined, thinking about being with her. I put my hood up.
“Yes.”
“I love you, Nikki. Do you want me to come home right now?”
“I don’t want to be like her. But I’m so tired. But I’ll be okay.”
“You should go to bed.”
“Goodnight, Ares.”
“Goodnight, Nikki.” I end the call and stand, heading back to the dorms.
Chapter Forty-seven
Nikki
My shaky hands are covering my face and my eyes are closed tight. My knees are pulled in to my chest, guarding my shaky stomach. My head is filled with images of those nights the baby me was raped and how my mother stood in the doorway and how my skin crawled and I didn’t ever want to take my clothes off. I didn’t take them off to take a bath and people at school made fun of me for wearing the same thing every day. I felt so much older, like I had aged a million years and nobody knew but me. Nothing anyone my age said interested me.
I haven’t slept the same since.
I’
m falling apart.
I break and weep, thinking about my father’s face, wanting so badly to have him hold me in his arms and love me like I’m his baby. It’s like a burning need inside to be held by my father and I’ll never have it again.
And the next best thing is a million miles away.
I need to smell man. I crave it.
I had to go to court today and tell a room full of people about my life. From my mother being crazy and slicing herself open to hurt me to her letting a man rape me when I was a baby, my brother’s father. I had to tell them I have no known relatives and then hope they give my brother to Natalie and Marc and not with me and not in someone else’s crazy.
I’m falling apart. How long do I have? How long until everything breaks and I stop breathing?
My mother left the father space on Dexter’s birth certificate blank. The court and social services put the adoption through. Natalie and Marc cried and hugged, and Dexter cried. They tried to pull me in and hug me too and I tried hard to fake it.
I’m getting so good at it.
Now I’m sitting here. Needing comfort and hiding because I want my mind blown.
My little brother has a new family. The one I’ve always wanted and never got and never will get because I fucked it up.
I wipe my tears away and make myself get up I crawl out of the closet and struggle out of my blazer and cigarette pants. I’ve never been so skinny in my life but my belly won’t go away. It makes me sick. I want to stick my finger down my throat to make it disappear. I look at my body, feeling the warmth in my belly and the anxious, nauseating somersaults and the constant dread I have that she was right. That I’m crazy. That in the end they’re going to know and then I’ll lose them. I can’t stop wanting Ares even though I know how the story ends. How long could I have?
My new home is an upstairs apartment and it looks out over trees and a gully with a stream running through it. The landlady said deer always hang out where I can see them. I have a deck. There’s a hallway where each room branches out from. I fell in love with it and said yes right away.
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