by Jenni Moen
Adam didn’t say much as we walked toward the subway station. His hands were dug into the pockets of his jacket. I was in my own little world, too, wondering what the hell he and Lizzie had been talking about. It was obvious that he’d done something for her mom. And equally obvious that I was the only one not being let in on the secret.
It wasn’t until we were on the train that I asked the question that had been nagging me. “What were you guys talking about back there?”
Adam reached up with one arm and gripped the overhead bar as the train started to move again. His t-shirt rode up just a bit under his open jacket, and I caught a flash of the hard abs underneath. I’d really been slacking off in the gym, but he hadn’t. Geez. The distraction almost made me lose my train of thought.
“What do you mean? The stuff about Lizzie’s Mom?” he said, reminding me.
“Yeah. She thanked you. What did you do?”
“I’m sure you’ve got it figured out,” he said. “I just found her and talked her into getting some help. For Lizzie’s sake.”
How does one ‘find’ someone in a city of 8 million? She had been missing for days. “How did you find her? It’s not like you guys hang out in the same places.”
“I got a picture of her from Lizzie’s apartment, and I walked around asking questions. You flash a little money around that neighborhood and people will talk.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.
“And when you found her, what then?” I asked, as we rounded a curve. Adam raised his other arm to also grip the overhead bar. The sliver of exposed skin grew, boggling my mind a little bit more. If he was doing this on purpose ... to get me to stop asking questions ... it was almost working. Almost. “What did you say to her?”
Adam sighed and looked out the windows of the train. There was nothing but darkness out there, but that didn’t stop him from studying it. “I told her what a great kid she has and that she needed to get her act together before she completely fucked Lizzie up. I gave her a little incentive to get clean, that’s all, and I helped her get set up.”
My heart swelled. Adam had hunted Amber down and then helped put her into rehab. “When did you do this?”
“Ahhhh, I found her the night you were at your waxing thing at Dawn’s. She turned herself in the next day.”
Something rattled around in my brain. Oh. Oh. I’d come in late that night. He’d been at school, ‘working on a project.’ I had been worried that he was spending time with that viper, Carissa. Wow. Had I ever been wrong? If he had just told me, I would’ve known not to worry at all.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you keep it from me?” My words sounded more accusatory than I’d intended, but they were questions I wanted answers to. In the last 48 hours, I’d found out that he knew about Brittany and had been the one to convince Amber to check herself into rehab.
“I wasn’t keeping it from you,” he shot back. “It’s not about you.”
His words stung like a slap to the face, and the assault wasn’t over. “I didn’t want anyone to know because I didn’t want Lizzie to find out. If she thought that her mom came to her senses on her own, that was fine by me.”
“You don’t understand what it’s like to be where Lizzie is right now. I do. I’ve walked in her shoes. I know what it’s like to come home from school every day and find your mom passed out on the couch. I know what it’s like to find her face down in the backyard in her own puke. I know what it’s like to shove a grown ass woman who should be making you dinner in the shower because you need to clean her up before your dad gets home. And I know what it’s like to come home and find her gone ... and to pray to God that she finds her way home.”
“You promise that you’ll clean up the vomit and make the baby dinner without complaining if she’ll just come back. Then when she comes back, you keep those promises, but it’s never enough. You wake up each day thinking that it will be better, but it never is. It’s the same shit on a different day. And not only does it not get better. Each day actually gets worse and you wonder what it is that she has to fucking escape from anyway. Because you’re just kids and you’re hers and she should want to be with you. But she’s not. She’s missing it all.”
My eyes burned. He was right. I deserved the reprimand. I didn’t understand anything at all about Lizzie’s childhood. Or his. And I hadn’t been thinking about the fact that he’d helped Lizzie, choosing instead to focus on what he had kept from me.
I slammed into him, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my head in Bill Murray’s face. “I’m sorry, Adam. I’m so sorry.”
He was stiff as a board, arms still extended overhead, and went on like I hadn’t just wrapped myself around him. “I don’t want your pity, and neither does Lizzie. I’m telling you this because that’s where her head was at when her mom was missing. I know that you think that you understand because you’ve been a part of Lizzie’s life for so long, but you don’t. You’re on the outside looking in. There’s a lot going on that you don’t see. And you won’t see it because she doesn’t want you to.”
He had just told me more about his childhood than ever before. I wanted to know what made Adam the man he was today. I wanted to know everything he’d been through ... even the stuff that had been my fault. Even though it didn’t seem to be giving him any comfort, I continued to hold on to him and hoped he didn’t push me away.
“That’s not what I meant,” I said, trying to take back my words. “I’m not sorry for you, Adam. I don’t pity you. I meant that you’re right. All that stuff that your mom put you through ... made you who you are today. You’re right. I don’t understand what she’s going through any more than I understand what you went through. Thank you for helping her.”
I felt his body give a little in my arms, and he finally put his arms around me. We stood there with our arms wrapped around each other, saying nothing. The movement of the train gently listed us back and forth, but Adam’s feet remained firmly planted, holding us steady.
“We just had our first real fight,” I whispered.
It wasn’t entirely true. We had fought once before. It had been about the accident and had ended with me running out on him with the intention of never going back. It had been a turning point in our relationship. So it was hard to think of it as nothing more than a ‘fight.’ This was our first argument that wasn’t related to our past.
I looked around to see if anyone had witnessed this monumental event, but the only other passenger was a woman with earbuds stuck in her ears at the other end of the car. She tapped her foot along to whatever she was listening to and read from a book she held in front of her face.
Adam’s hand wandered from around my waist to my backside. He squeezed it and buried his face in my hair. “You know, there’s only one thing to do after a fight,” he growled, just as we conveniently pulled into our stop.
“What’s that?” I asked coyly.
“Make-up sex. I need to get you home. Right. Fucking. Now. If you’re lucky, we’ll make it.”
“If I’m lucky, maybe we won’t,” I chided him.
“Oh, that’s it,” he said. Before I knew what was even happening, his hands were back around my waist, and he hoisted me over his shoulder. This was the second time in as many weeks that he’d thrown me over his shoulder in a public place.
“Adam,” I said, smacking him on his butt as he strode purposefully through the open train door. “You’ve got to stop carrying me around like this. It’s not dignified.”
“I don’t give a shit about dignified.” Oblivious to everyone around us, he carried me through the tunnel and up the stairs to the street. Only after we were on Broadway did he put me down.
“Now keep up,” he said, dragging me toward our building. “Or I’ll be forced to carry you the whole way.”
I had to admit that I didn’t really mind the caveman show. In fact, there wasn’t much that I didn’t like about my occasionally cocky, subtly tattooed, movie-quoting, cat-whispering, t-shirt-wearing,
Eminem-singing, muscle-car-loving, sweetheart of a man.
CHAPTER 12
Adam
Burke tossed his rope to the side and threw himself down on the black mat. “I fucking hate double-unders,” he said. “They’re impossible. I don’t know how you do it.”
“You’ll get it,” I said, taking a big gulp from my water bottle. “Just takes practice.”
He lay flat on his back and panted. “I think I’ve got whip marks on my calves. What’s Carly going to say?”
“She’s going to say that you’re not the fat ass that you used to be, and she’s going to thank me.”
“If we are going to have any future together, she’s going to have to accept me as a fat ass,” he said. “You’ve seen my dad. It’s only a matter of time before I am Tony Soprano fat.”
“Better wait until after you marry her.”
“Marry her,” he snorted. “Why would I do that?”
Burke was your typical Manhattan male. They didn’t think about settling down. There was no need to. The city was full of women for the taking. Even with just an average face, you could have a different girl in your bed every night if you wanted, and Burke had a better than average face. His looks, coupled with his position as the lead singer of the band, had him sitting pretty when it came to pulling wool. However, Carly’s wool was the only one that he’d been pulling for a long time.
It was all just posturing. He might not know it yet, but he was going to marry Carly. It might take a decade and a half, but it would happen.
As for me, I wasn’t your typical Manhattan male. I was a southern boy, and we weren’t afraid to settle down when we found the right girl.
“Speaking of the future,” Burke said. “What did you decide about that internship?”
I stood up and moved toward the pull-up bar. “I turned down the interview,” I said, immediately pulling myself up so that I didn’t have to look him in the eye.
“Because of Allie,” he said. The disapproval in his voice was clear.
“I like her. You know I do. Hell, I love her a little. When she gets rid of your sorry ass, it’s going to be hard for me to decide between her and Carly. But you can’t not do the interview.”
I gave him a glare. “First, she would never have your sorry ass. And second, her job is here. I’m not going to drag her all the way across the country for an internship that may or not turn into a job. And I’m not leaving her here alone. Besides there are plenty of jobs here. This is the second best place for me to be. I will find something.”
I finished my set, and Burke stumbled his way over to take my place. “Big mistake, man. You’ve got to go for your dreams. You give them up, and you’ll end up hating her. Do the interview. Don’t accept second best. It’s only six months. She’s not going anywhere. Besides I love the sunshine state.”
“The sunshine state is Florida, you dumb ass,” I grumbled.
“Whatever. Florida. California. What’s the difference?”
“Shut up and do your set,” I said, putting an end to this conversation.
I couldn’t ask her to go with me, and if she wasn’t going, neither was I. There was no chance that I was leaving her to go to California.
No fucking chance.
Alexis
Carly hobbled toward the booth and slid in. We had made Friday afternoon lunches our routine ... well at least the Friday afternoons that I didn’t play hooky from work to gallivant around the city with Adam.
“Are you still limping?” I asked. “Why are you still limping? Every time I see you, you look like you just got off a horse.”
“Your fucktard of a boyfriend taught mine some new moves at the gym the other day. And you know Burke. He likes to pretend like he knows something about something so he made me go work out with him again.”
“When are you going to stop doing that?” I asked. “Adam’s workouts are hazardous to your health. I should know.”
“My God, I know. He must be like a race horse in the bedroom. He is, isn’t he? Tell me. He is, right?”
I tried to play it coy. I raised my eyebrows at her and then returned to my menu. The Monte Cristo sounded good. Adam would have a coronary though at the fat content. He would probably order a grilled chicken salad. With the dressing on the side.
She kicked me under the table. “Come on. I want to hear it again. I don’t know why I picked Burke over him. Oh, wait. I didn’t. Well, I should have dumped Burke the very first night that he brought Adam to The Shelter. Big mistake on my part.”
“It was not,” I said. “You love Burke.”
She looked at me skeptically, but followed it up with a grin. “You’re right. I do. He’s such a douche canoe though. Can you believe that shit he pulled the other night at the club? Seriously.” She shook her head while scanning the menu. “Douche. Canoe.”
“He was just jealous,” I said. “It’s good for them to be reminded every now and then that they have competition. A little jealousy is healthy. I mean, Adam and I had the best mother lovin’ bathroom sex at the Halloween party after Caribbean Barbie showed up.”
Carly raised her eyebrows at me. “I knew it,” she said, just as the waitress wandered over to take our order. “Your hair was a wreck after.”
“And he actually threw me over his shoulder and carried me out of the subway caveman-style the other night. It was … gah.”
The waitress rolled her eyes. “What can I get you,” she huffed. I would be willing to bet that she would have been singing a different tune if Adam had hauled her over his shoulder. But even the thought of it made me crazy.
“I’ll have the bacon cheeseburger with fries, a bowl of the potato soup, and a piece of carrot cake,” I said.
“Holy mother,” Carly muttered.
“And you?” the waitress asked, without looking up from her note pad.
“I’ll have the cobb salad. With the dressing on the side.”
My head must’ve spun on my neck. “Sweet baby Jesus,” I said, pointing a finger at her. “He’s gotten to you.”
“Well, yeah. I mean no. Adam hasn’t gotten to me, but if I’m going to launch my singing career, I need to start thinking about size fours instead of petit fours.”
“What about you?” she asked. “You eating for two?” She immediately threw her hand over her mouth. Her eyes were wide round saucers. “I’m sorry, Allie. I shouldn’t have said that.”
I would never be eating for two. Carly knew that. After the camping trip, I’d told her everything. Carly had really come through for me, sealing her position as a permanent one in my life.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said as blasély as possible. “The burger is for Ethan. He’s on his way back from a client and is going to join us.”
“Ugh,” Carly groaned.
“What? That’s not okay?” I asked.
“It’s fine. It’s just that he and Jillian got into a big fight last night. For once I actually had the night off and was home. I was looking forward to a quiet night with a bottle of wine and my favorite Brit. I’m on book three by the way. Where are you? And then they came barreling in from dinner, tearing into each other like a couple of rabid animals.”
“Wait. I thought you said they were fighting?”
“They were. I thought they were going to tear each other limb from limb.”
“Oh, that kind of rabid. I wonder what that was about.” I glanced around the restaurant to see if Ethan had come in, and my eyes honed in on a young mother with a baby in the corner. My baby radar was on a pretty sensitive setting these days. Not too long ago, I wouldn’t have noticed a baby within a five block radius. Now they seemed to be sending out a beacon that I couldn’t ignore.
“Who knows?” she said. “But if he’s getting ready to break up with her, I’m leaving the state. That is going to be real ugly.”
“Really?” I asked again, with my eyes still trained on the corner of the room. The mom was probably in her late 20s or early 30s. I wasn’t a good estimator of ba
by ages, but the little boy didn’t look like he was a walker yet. He was sitting in his mother’s lap. She held on to him with one arm while trying to eat with the other. His fat little hand frantically waved a rubber toy, knocking into the fork on the way to her mouth and causing her food to go flying.
“Yeah, she’s totally in love with him, but I get the impression that it’s a one way street … hey, what are you looking at?” she asked. She followed my gaze until she honed in on the object of my attention. “Ohhh. So have you talked to Adam yet? Are you still looking for a bigger apartment?”
I shook my head. “I haven’t brought it up. Carly, I don’t know what to do. I’m scared to … well … you know how he feels about kids. We haven’t talked about apartments in weeks.”
My eyes wandered back to the far corner of the restaurant again. The mother was now picking some sort of food out of her hair while her tiny son banged a loaded fork into the table. She got out of her seat to retrieve it after he threw it on the floor.
When she stood up, I realized what a mess she was. We were probably about the same age and close to the same size, but that’s where the similarities ended. In the place of my designer business suit, she had on a velour sweatsuit. It was probably also designer label, but it was hard to see past all the snot and food smeared across her front. Her dark hair was pulled back in a haphazard bun that threatened to give way at any minute. As she plopped back down in her seat, she crossed her sneaker-clad feet. They were certainly no match for my Jimmy Choos, which had been a gift from Adam after I’d destroyed mine a few weeks ago on the walk from hell.
The baby in her lap squealed and grabbed at her face, pulling on her cheek as if it was made of rubber. But, despite being pulled and poked and spilled upon, she smiled back at her little mini-man and carried on her part of a conversation, which neither of them probably understood.
She looked satisfied … haggard … but satisfied. Even though I could see where it could be fulfilling, I didn’t know if I had what it took to do that day in and day out. Not every woman was made to be a mom, and not all moms were made equal.