by Kristi Rose
“Where’s your dad? Back in Scotland? That’s supercool by the way. Do you have a dual citizenship?”
Talking about Scotland reminds me of our yearly family trips over there to visit Nana and of course always leads to memories of my father. I try to keep it simple. “My dad died over ten years ago and yes, I have dual citizenship.”
I take a swig of my drink. The sweetness of the cocktail is strong and I have to force my swallow. I push my glass away and shift in my chair so I’m able to look out at the beach. Thinking about my dad makes me sad. Thinking of Lakeland makes me want to call Hank and go hang out with him instead.
“Man, I’m sorry. Must’ve been hard.”
I nod. Sometimes when I’m alone and I look at a picture of my father, I cry. A deep gut-wrenching cry, too. It still hurts like hell. I don’t know how I would have gotten through any of it without Gigi or Hank or even their mom and Poppy. I don’t know what prompts me to tell Jake my family’s business. Maybe it’s the mood on the beach or the mood I’m in.
“My dad took a job at the Cape. Working for NASA. He was an engineer. My mom was real resistant to moving because I was in high school. They decided my dad would drive home every weekend. He was killed driving back to us one Friday.”
“Wow. How old were you?” he asks.
“Fifteen. Can you imagine the guilt my mother must have for not moving there when he took the job?” I’d never thought of this before. My mind always goes back to the dark days of her struggle, when she stopped getting out of bed or caring about anything, including her two teenage daughters.
“Your parents still got along? Before your dad died?” He seems amazed it’s even possible.
“Yeah. She’s never dated or remarried.” I’m struck with a new appreciation for my mother and my parents’ marriage.
“My parents hate each other,” he tells me. “They are still married, but man, can they fight. It’s nice to be on my own.” He tips back his beer and finishes it off.
“Hey, let’s walk down to the Deck. I didn’t mean to get you depressed and the music there should pick you back up.”
He gestures to my unfinished drink, and I shake my head. Jake finishes it off and reaches for my hand to pull me from my chair.
We make our way to the Ocean Deck, a bar even the tourists know to visit. It’s a local icon and a favorite for the college set and the recently graduated. We enter the bar from the beach side. It’s overcrowded and obnoxiously loud with a local reggae band playing.
Jake turns me around and we head back outside where the volume is more conducive to conversation.
“You want another drink?” he calls out over the bass.
“Just a water please.”
Before he can walk away another guy joins us. The two guys fist bump and Jake turns back to me.
“Paisley, this is John Tolliver. He’s my roommate. John, this is Paisley McAllister. Keep her company, man, while I run inside for drinks.” And he’s gone.
I smile at John.
“Paisley, is it? Your parents named you after one of those amoeba-looking fabric patterns? Were they hippies or something?” He doesn’t smile back and his eyes never leave my chest.
“Your parents named you after a toilet. Were they custodians?” I widen my smile. I did it. I managed a retort right when I needed one. I look to pass off a high five to someone, anyone, but I’m alone.
He sneers and walks off to talk to a very short-legged, large-chested girl. I scan the crowd. Even in college, I hated the bar scene. Now I hate it even more.
Alone on the deck, I look into the bar through the plastic windows. Jake is talking to another girl. He hands her a drink, wraps an arm around her, pulls her close, and nuzzles her neck. She laughs in response to something he says and as they separate, I watch him hand her his keys. They walk to the front door holding hands.
I know I’m a social reject when it comes to dating. I also know as innocent as it seems, it probably isn’t. I look to see if I know anyone else in the crowd who can give me a ride home and come up wanting. I thank my lucky stars I still have my purse and haven’t left it in the car as Jake suggested. At least I’ve done something right this time.
I skirt around the side of the Deck and climb the outside stairs to the front of the building in hopes of finding a taxi. I expect I’ll have to walk to the main drag to find one. Scanning for Jake, I’m relieved to not find him in the crowd at the front of the building.
If this was a date with someone other than Jake, I’d call Josie. I turn my cell over in my palm, picturing the I-told-you-so look she’s sure to give me. I decide to call Jayne, who is never one to judge. She might be able to get here faster than Josie because she hangs out at her parent’s pub, which is nearby. I dial her up, give a quick explanation, and she agrees to come pick me up.
Crossing the street toward Burger King, our rendezvous spot, I focus on looking straight ahead, afraid if I look over my shoulder I’ll see Jake. I pick up my pace when he calls out my name.
Damn.
“Hey, Paisley.” He runs up. His sweet smile makes me look away. “I’m sorry if I worried you. A friend needed to use my car so I walked him to it. You didn’t have to come looking for me.”
“You mean her.”
“What?”
“You mean you walked her to your car. And how am I supposed to get home, Jake?”
I keep walking to the Burger King but he jumps in front of me, bringing me to a halt. I look past him, trying not to make eye contact.
“Yeah, him, her, whatever. She’ll be right back. I didn’t think we were going anywhere soon. I don’t know what you saw but I was just helping out a friend.”
Either he doesn’t realize I’m upset, or he chooses to ignore it, but either way causes me to suffer the fleeting sensation that maybe I’m overreacting.
“I have to go, Jake. My friend Jayne called and is having a personal crisis.” I start to walk toward the fast-food chain. “I’m meeting her here. She called while you were walking your friend to the car.”
Coward. I lie because it’s easier than starting a disagreement here in the middle of the road. I experience a pang of self-loathing because I don’t confront him about what I saw.
Jake is silent for a moment. He continues to walk beside me.
“I’m sorry you have to go. I had a good time tonight, even if you were going to ditch me without saying good-bye.” His smile is all lip and no teeth.
Jayne drives into the crowded parking lot and honks. I face Jake but take a side step toward Jayne’s car. I guess being married to a man who thought oral sex with his female colleagues didn’t count as an affair since there wasn’t penetration, has left me somewhat gun-shy. Maybe I’ve been hasty in writing off Jake. Maybe she really is only a friend.
I give him a smile. “I enjoyed the night,” I tell him. I mean, I enjoyed it up until now.
“I’ll give you a call.” He gives me a sweet kiss on the cheek.
I run to the safety of Jayne’s car. Unfortunately, my thoughts, fears, and paranoia follow me there.
Chapter 14
When I get home, I check my e-mail. I think it’s rude to text and check e-mail when on a date. I also think it’s rude to nuzzle a girl’s neck when on a date with a different girl but, according to Jake I misinterpreted it. The more I replay it, the more I begin to question myself. Maybe he’s right.
Still nothing from Hank, the silence tells me he’s mad. I’ve replayed the morning he left with his friends, ad nauseam, and I hope it’s not because of my date with Jake. I was honest with him. Wasn’t that part of the no-strings-attached agreement?
Jake doesn’t contact me either throughout the rest of the weekend or the beginning of the week. Wednesday is my standard girls’ night out and I’m nervous about seeing him, if he’s working. On the drive to the pub, I find myself going through the dater-remorse cycle. I kick myself for overreacting to what I witnessed inside the bar and h
ow I handled it.
One minute I find myself praising him for his calmness because I basically abandoned him without so much as a see-ya and the next I’m cursing my stupidity and lack of trust in my instincts.
I’m still stumbling around in my head as I make my way into the pub and bump into Josie’s back. She’s talking with Jayne and they step apart, neither meeting my gaze when I say both my apologies and hellos.
One look at Jayne tells me she’s sharing my date escape with Josie. I cast an irritated look her way before I head to the table. Jayne may never judge, but I guess she’ll gossip. I avoid the bar and say hello to Kenley, already seated.
“Where’s Heather?” I ask.
“Heather is having some problems with Tyler and Justin.” Kenley doesn’t elaborate further and takes a long drink from her very large double cocktail. It’s been a hard journey since Tyler’s seizure a few weeks back, lots of doctor appointments and hospital visits. What’s made it worse is Justin, Heather’s dirt-bag husband, hasn’t participated in any of it.
“Anything I can help with? Do they have a formal diagnosis yet?” When the waitress passes, I order a whiskey sour.
“No, definitely a seizure disorder. They’re still ruling out other things. I tried to talk to her again today about letting me help more, but she shuts me out. She may not come tonight because of me.” Kenley orders another drink and I make a mental note to cut her off after this one.
These days Heather’s life must be awfully difficult. It makes my woes seem silly. I’m reminded to keep things in perspective. My dad used to say, regardless of how bad you think you have it, someone always has it worse.
Jayne and Josie join us with their drinks and the conversation regarding Heather continues. I decide it’s time to look to see if Jake’s working. It’s stupid to act as if I don’t know he works here. I readjust in the seat and scan the bar.
Jake’s working. He stands at the end of the bar and smiles at me followed by a finger wave. I smile and wave back. He winks, and I forgive him for the misunderstanding. He looks good in a tight Tommy Hilfiger T-shirt with his muscles pronounced. The dark blue of the shirt sets off his sun-kissed brown hair and tan. He turns away and goes to the other end, to help a customer I assume.
My cell phone rings, and I pull it from my purse. It’s Jake.
“Hey, Paisley.” I look and see him on the phone. We both laugh.
“Hey, yourself.”
“I was afraid you weren’t talking to me, I waited to see if you’d even look at me tonight. I’m glad you did.”
I look down at the table and trace a scratch in the surface. It bugs me Jake waited until now to reach out to me. I guess he, too, might have been nervous or uncertain.
“Think maybe you’ll go out with me again?” he asks.
“I think you’ll have to ask and find out.”
“Whad’ya say? Wanna go out Saturday?”
I purse my lips, trying to visualize my calendar.
“Mmm, Saturday? Sorry, I have plans for Saturday.” I’m supposed to go to Lakeland this weekend.
“Seriously?” His voice tells me he wasn’t expecting that response. “You don’t have to play hard to get. I said I was sorry.”
I’m taken aback. “Yes, seriously. I have to be in Lakeland this weekend for a family get-together. I’m not playing hard to get. I’m being honest.” The girls are trying to appear as if they aren’t listening but they are. No one is talking, and Jayne leans toward me.
“I’m sorry, Paisley. Jeez, I say that a lot to you. I’m not used to girls being honest with me. Usually they play games.” He smiles sheepishly.
I totally understand. “That’s OK.”
“OK, how about sometime next week? I’m off Thursday.”
“Me too.” I laugh. “What time?”
“Noon?”
I’m surprised, and I guess it comes across because he laughs when I ask, “Noon?”
“Afraid to spend a full day with me?”
“No, I try not to be up before noon but OK, noon sounds great.”
We finish making plans and say our good-byes, watching each other across the room. When I return my attention to my friends, they are staring at me and Josie is making a retching face.
“Thanks, Josie,” I bite out.
“Look, after what he did, I can’t believe you are going out on a second date with him.”
I glare at Jayne, who has the good sense to look contrite, before I reply, “It’s only a date or two, Josie. It’s not marriage. How am I supposed to know what I want if I don’t have these experiences? Isn’t that what dating’s about? Finding what you like?”
She shrugs. “You’re too stupid to see what’s good and what’s not. Good keeps bumping up against you and you still push it away.”
“Gee, thanks a lot. I didn’t know you felt that way.” I jerk up my purse and begin digging for money.
“That’s not what she means, Paisley, and you know it.” This time Jayne joins in. “She means you’re too trusting and romantic and more often than not it skews the true picture.” Jayne reaches out and clasps my hand.
It still doesn’t take the sting out of Josie’s words. I look at Josie, and she has tears brimming in her eyes.
“You’re not stupid, stupid, but Jayne is right. You’ll look too hard and miss what’s right under your nose. I want you to be happy. I’m sorry. I could’ve said that the first time.”
I guess if your friends can’t tell you how they feel and want what’s best for you, then what kind of friends are they?
“It’s all right, Josie. Can’t you let me experiment here for a while?” I squeeze Jayne’s hand and she releases it. I guess now she feels certain I won’t bolt.
Josie begrudgingly nods her acceptance, “OK, but you cannot, and I mean it, you cannot bring that asshat to my wedding.” She points to Jake.
“OK.” I shrug. I wasn’t planning on it. I’m about to order another round when my cell rings again. This time it’s Heather. I tell everyone at the table and they become quiet as they wait for me to answer it.
“I’m sorry, hon, I don’t have a sitter for Tyler. I won’t be able to make it.” Her voice sounds raw, as if she’s been crying.
“Is there anything we can do for you?” I ask.
Heather starts sobbing, and I can’t understand a thing she says. Something about her life going to shit.
“Are you up for company?” I ask. “We can bring the party to you.” I give my friends a look. Everyone is nodding their heads.
“Really?” She seems surprised.
I give her our estimated time of arrival and disconnect. We make a list of items to get. Josie and I are to cover the booze portion and Jayne and Kenley head to Publix to get comfort food.
Thirty minutes later, we find Heather dressed in grungy sweats, her face pale, and eyes red. She repeats to everyone what she tried to tell me on the phone. Justin has left her, on a permanent basis.
“It’s Tyler,” she wails. “You know he’s always been demanding and now with these doctor appointments, things are harder. We constantly argue about who should be taking care of him. How he should be taken care of. I can’t do it all. I need help.” She throws herself on the couch and begins to cry again.
Unfortunately, Kenley and I thought Heather and Justin were heading down the path of no return. He was always absent, busy with his friends and his job. What kind of man leaves a woman with a special-needs child and tells her he’s done with the both of them? Justin Michaels is that kind of man.
I experience a surge of panic and fear. What if this were to happen to me, again? I don’t know if I could take it. It’s a selfish moment, and I try to hide behind the blender and martini mix as I go cold and clammy. No matter how many times I rub my hand down my skirt, the sweat clings to my palms.
Kenley rushes over to comfort Heather. “You’re not alone, sweetie, you have me and the girls.”
“You
have your own problems, Kenley. I can’t trouble you with mine.” I witness a shared look between them after they hug.
“Wait, what?” I stop mixing drinks to look at Kenley, remembering her odd behavior and their fight during my blind date with pilot Ted. I knew something was off then.
“What’s going on?” I sit on the ottoman in front of them.
She shrugs but won’t meet my eyes. Heather whispers an apology to her.
“Kenley?” I press.
She sighs and clutches Heather’s hands. “Doug and I have been trying to have a baby, and it’s not going well.” She turns to Heather. “Let me help, please. I need the distraction.”
“What do you mean, it’s not going well?” Having been responsible for the cocktails, Josie puts a tray of drinks on the coffee table and plops into an armchair.
“I mean we can’t get pregnant because of some motility issue with Doug, who takes it as a sign of failure, drinks more than ever. He spends lots of time at the club. The strain and friction are exhausting.” Her shoulders sag as she punctuates the sentence with a large sigh.
“It’s a good thing we have each other,” I say because it’s true.
“We’re a hot mess, huh?” Heather laughs for the first time tonight.
We gather into a group hug and, once we break, the liquor starts flowing. I try not to think of my fears. How will I ever find a nice guy? One who believes in “till death do us part.” At one of the hardest moments in Heather and Justin’s life, he bailed.
Do men stick around? Do they share their part of the responsibility or when times get tough, do they help make a burden look more like an obstacle?
I don’t know. My father was a part-time dad right before he died, commuting between his family and his job. I try to take some of Hank’s advice and not let it get crazy in my head. But I know the time will come when I’ll succumb to the fear.
* * * *
When I get home, I’m still shaken up thinking about Heather’s experience and Kenley’s disclosure. Even though it’s hours past late, sleep remains elusive. I indulge in a cheap version of therapy by taking a hot bath and having a good cry.