by Cassia Leo
August 18th
* * *
Kendra’s apartment is exactly the same as ours. The same two bedrooms with windows; her windows face the courtyard while ours face Savier Street. The same concrete counters and black kitchen cabinets. The same layout and, oddly enough, it even smells the same since she gifted me the same scented oil diffuser she uses. The one major difference is that her apartment is overrun with baby gear.
You walk in the door and, if you’re not paying attention, you’ll bump into the black stroller with the lime-green polka-dots. Her kitchen sink is always piled high with baby-food containers that she sterilized and set out to dry. I’ve never understood how they’re supposed to remain sterile while drying in that dish rack. Her living room is cramped by a playpen and, half the time, her coffee table is pushed against the wall under the window so eight-month-old Trucker can crawl around without knocking his head on the furniture.
I take a seat on Kendra’s overstuffed sofa and try not to stare at Trucker in his high chair. He has Kendra’s dark hair and gray eyes, but his face is round and bright, just like Kendra’s husband, Aaron. Aaron is a great guy, but he can be a bit abrasive sometimes, like Kendra. The few times Kendra has tried to get him to hang out with Houston and me, he accused her of trying to set him up on an adult playdate. Kendra gave up trying to force us into a four-way friendship months ago.
“So, I had to go to Aaron’s cousin’s house in Salem for a birthday party this weekend. So trashy. I swear, it’s like I married the only sane person in that whole family. How was your weekend?” Kendra asks as she shovels a spoonful of organic pureed peas into Trucker’s pursed baby lips.
I tear my eyes away from Trucker and sigh. “I told Houston I’m pregnant.”
“You’re pregnant? Already?”
“No, I lied to him.”
“You what? Why?”
I get an itch on my forearm, but I know it’s just the guilt irritating my scars, so I resist the urge to scratch. “Because I’m stupid. I thought he had found out about the appointment with the fertility clinic.”
“Because he came home early?”
“Yeah. I was convinced he had opened up my laptop and saw the website in my history. Especially because, just a few days later, we were having sex and he pulled out for the first time since I had this IUD implanted fourteen months ago.”
Kendra uses Trucker’s bib to wipe away some green goop from the corner of his mouth, then she turns to me with a very suspicious look in her eyes. “He pulled out?”
“Yeah, I know. It freaked me out. But he was acting like it was no big deal, so I accused him of cheating on me.”
“Oh, because that’s always smart.”
I lean forward and grab a travel magazine off the coffee table, which is right where it’s supposed to be today. “I know. I’ve been doing a lot of stupid things ever since I had that consultation. Dr. Menlo told me that even if I take the IUD out now, I probably won’t get pregnant for four to six months. And that’s only if we track my ovulation patterns and have sex during peak times. I can’t even get Houston to come inside me with an IUD. How am I ever supposed to have a baby?” I sigh heavily. “Why doesn’t he want to have a baby with me?”
“He doesn’t want to have a baby with anyone. You know that.”
Kendra is referring to the conversation I had with Ava Cavanaugh, Houston’s mother, shortly before Houston and I got married two years and three months ago. Houston doesn’t know his mother told me about the ex-girlfriend he got pregnant. According to Ava, they broke up right after the girl got an abortion. She wouldn’t tell me the girl’s name, but I got the feeling Ava loved her very much, which makes me even more insecure. The reason she divulged this information to me was as a cautionary tale. In other words, she was silently warning me, If Houston didn’t want children with her, then he will definitely never want children with you.
I flip the travel magazine open to a random page and land on an advertisement for vacation rentals in Bali. “I know, but that’s what all guys think.”
“No, it’s not, Tessa. Aaron and Houston are not all guys. Besides, once Aaron found out I was pregnant, he completely flipped sides and couldn’t get enough of my juicy birth canal.”
“Ew.”
“Whatever. The point is that you have to accept that Houston doesn’t want kids. And you have to emotionally prepare for the possibility that he may leave you if you do get pregnant without his consent or if he finds out you’re bluffing about this pregnancy.”
I turn another page and roll my eyes at the happy couple pictured next to an article about chic honeymoon locations. “You’re the one who told me to get pregnant. Now you’re telling me to consider the consequences?”
“I didn’t tell you to get pregnant. All I said is that it worked for me. Results may vary. But I guess it doesn’t matter what I think ’cause Houston is the type of guy who needs to be trapped or someone else is gonna sneak in there. He’s totally Vanessa’s type: hot, rich, and married. Like, you should totally keep him away from Vanessa or she’d be all like, ‘Lawd! I’d let him ram me so hard my lunch would fall out.’”
My stomach curdles at the thought of Vanessa and Houston together. “Ugh. I hate that girl.”
Vanessa is Aaron’s sister, who likes to come over and visit Kendra every once in a while. She has a disgusting habit of dating married men. She claims it’s because she likes excitement and expensive gifts, especially when they come without commitment. I think it’s because she’s a dirty home-wrecker.
Kendra pulls Trucker out of the high chair and he flashes her a gracious smile as she balances him on her hip. His gray eyes find me across the room and I smile, though I know his eyes aren’t developed enough to see me clearly. His chubby hand smacks his mom’s chest as she clears the bowl of food from the chair.
“Settle down, Trucker.”
I set the magazine on the coffee table as I rise from the sofa. “I’ll take him so you can clean up.”
Kendra’s brow furrows with pity as I hold my hands out to her and I know what she’s thinking. And she’s right.
She hands him over and I get a weird sensation in my chest the moment his soft body is snuggled against my hip and inside the crook of my arm. Trucker reaches for my hair and I gently grab his hand to redirect his attention. He smells so soft and clean with just a hint of sweet earthiness on his breath from the baby food. He nods at me and I nod back. Kendra has been teaching him to nod and shake his head as well as a few simple phrases in sign language. I don’t know why Trucker’s nodding at me, but I’d like to think it’s because he approves of my prospects as a baby handler.
I just wish I could get Houston to feel the same.
August 23rd
* * *
My jaw drops when Jamie finishes making her offer. She waits patiently for me to respond, but after a couple of minutes of stunned silence, she finally has to speak.
“Is that a yes?”
“I… I can’t run a wine bar.”
“Yes, you can. If Theo can run the coffee bar, you can take over at the wine bar.”
When Jamie pulled me into her office ten minutes ago, I never imagined she’d be offering me a management position. But that’s exactly what she’s done. Assistant manager of the wine bar at the Goose Hollow location. A seven-minute walk from my apartment. And more than twice what I’m currently making.
The current assistant manager of the coffee bar, Theo, is only nineteen years old and won’t be allowed to keep the same position when it’s converted into a wine bar. He’s being promoted to Assistant Manager II of customer service. They need someone to take his place and, somehow, Jamie got it in her head that I would be perfect for this position.
“Why me? Isn’t there anyone else at the Goose Hollow store you can promote?”
“So you don’t want the promotion?”
My throat goes dry as I realize I’m botching this up. “No, I didn’t say that. I was just wondering why… I… Oh, forge
t it. Yes, of course I want it. Thank you so much, Jamie. This is… amazing. Thank you.”
She smiles and her crooked tooth shines under the fluorescent lighting in her office. “You’re welcome. I’m sure you’ll do great.”
She winks at me as I get up to leave and I hold in my laughter as I exit her office. Then it hits me. What if that wink was meant in a wink-wink nudge-nudge sort of way? What if she was trying to tell me something? Oh, God. What if Houston is the one who told her to give me the management position?
No, that’s crazy. As far as Jamie is concerned, Houston is just a supplier. He has no power over hiring decisions. And I’m flattering myself to think he would care enough to do something like recommending me for a management position. Besides, if he did recommend me for that promotion it was probably because he’s planning on spending less time at the Goose Hollow location. Not the other way around.
I finish out my last day as a cashier at 4:37 p.m. when Kenny arrives to start his shift. I run into him in the warehouse as he’s clocking in.
“Hey, sexy. You look happy. Did you finally get some?”
My happiness is quickly deflated when it dawns on me that I’m no longer going to see Kenny four to five times a week. “I got a promotion.”
“To what?”
“Assistant manager of the wine bar…”
Kenny’s gorgeous green eyes widen.
I continue, “In Goose Hollow. Today’s my last day here.”
“WHAT?”
“I know. I’m so sad I’m not going to see you anymore.”
“What are you talking about? You’re not getting rid of me that easily. But what in the fuckity-fuck is up with that promotion? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not that you’re not qualified. You’re obviously overqualified for every position here.” He winks at me, then continues. “But isn’t a promotion like that a bit out of left field? Did you apply for the position or something?”
I shake my head. “No, I didn’t know about any of this until Jamie called me into her office this morning.”
Kenny shrugs and gives me a quick hug. “Doesn’t matter. You deserve it. And now I have an excuse to stalk you—I mean visit you at your apartment.”
“I’d love for you to visit me.” A sudden urge overcomes me and I throw my arms around him again. He chuckles and I let go quickly.
“You’re so weird, Rory.”
“In a good way?”
“In a beautiful way. I’ll call you later. You still have to tell me all about the lumberjack you went home with Sunday night.”
A chill passes through me at the mention of Liam. He called me last night as I was getting into the shower, but I didn’t call him back when I got out. I listened to his voicemail once before I deleted it, then I stared at my phone for about two hours while thinking of Houston.
My mind constantly draws back to the memory of him telling me that we would be together forever, even if we broke up. I held on to that memory like a totem of our relationship. An intangible relic. A wispy promise, easily forgotten and even more easily broken.
But we did make it back to each other, just like he said we would. Only now it’s impossible for us to be together. Yet, he seems intent on having a presence in my life as some sort of heroic chauffeur. I laugh out loud at this thought and only then do I realize I’m still standing next to Kenny in the warehouse.
He shakes his head at me. “You need to get laid, sweetheart.”
I let out a deep sigh. “Working on it.”
* * *
Every time the phone rings I become more nervous. Until I’m so nervous I feel physically sick to my stomach. Finally, on the fourth ring, Liam answers.
“Rory?”
I suck in a sharp breath and my reply comes out far too high-pitched. “Liam! Hi!”
He chuckles. “Hi. How are you doing?”
Skippy yelps to tell me I’m scratching his head a bit too hard. “I’m fine. Just lying in bed with my dog. Wait. That sounded weird. I’m just relaxing. Yeah, that sounds better.”
“Actually, I liked the visual of you lying in bed.”
I swallow hard as I try to think of a response, but Liam laughs it off.
“Well, I could try to make some more small talk,” he says, and I sense another proposition coming, “or you can invite me over.”
“This whole dating thing is still kind of weird for me, so I’ll need you to be patient.”
“I don’t do patient,” he replies, and an awkward silence settles in between us, then he laughs. “I’m kidding. I’ve actually been sitting by my phone waiting for you to call me since I dropped you off last Sunday.”
“Who sits by their phone anymore? Doesn’t your phone sit by you?”
“I guess you’re right. I’ll have to work on the accuracy of my guilt-trip material. So how was your day?”
I sigh audibly. “Ugh. This sucks. I hate small talk.”
“When I come over, I promise I’ll only talk big.”
“Talk big? What does that mean? Are you going to make bold claims about yourself all night?”
“If that’s what you’re into. I might even back up those claims with some action.”
My face flushes with heat. “Don’t get any funny ideas, okay? I barely know you and, like I said, I’m not looking for anything serious right now.”
“That’s fine with me. We can keep our relationship strictly based on shallow sexual encounters.”
“Hanging up now.”
I stare at the phone for a second wondering if this is a good idea. I haven’t had sex with anyone since Houston. I know it’s totally lame, but he was my first. And he was so patient with me that I quickly opened up to him. Less than a month into our relationship, we were trying things some couples would consider kinky. But I always felt safe and adored when I was with Houston. The idea of having sex with someone and not feeling that way doesn’t appeal to me. I want to feel that intense emotional bond as well as the primal sexual attraction.
It’s way too early to expect to feel that with Liam, so I’ll have to ask him to take it slow. As I told him before, I’m damaged goods. I sigh heavily at this thought. Five years later and the pain is still as intense as it was the day Houston hand-fed me a bowl of soup then snuck out of our apartment in the middle of the night, when he thought I was sleeping.
I consider getting dolled up to hang out with Liam, but if he’s going to like the real me, then a messy ponytail is the least disturbing part of me he’s going to have to accept. As a small courtesy, I apply some powder and blush to my cheeks and some tinted lip balm. Skippy and I get settled down on the sofa with Animal Planet on the TV, but we’re quickly interrupted by a knock at the door.
Skippy lets out a soft bark as he jumps down from the sofa.
I point at the cushion he just vacated. “Sit, Skippy.”
He casts a forlorn glance in my direction before he hops back onto the sofa.
“Stay,” I say, for good measure.
My heart is beating so fast and hard, I can feel my pulse in my fingertips. I reach for the knob and take a slow breath as I open the door.
My jaw drops. “Houston. What the hell are you doing here?”
I peek my head into the corridor and I’m only slightly relieved to see Liam hasn’t arrived yet. But he’ll be here any moment. I have to get Houston out of here.
“Were you expecting someone else?” He looks me up and down for a second, taking in my messy ponytail, gray leggings, and UO hoodie. “You look—”
He stops himself before he can finish this sentence and I find myself wondering if he was going to tell me I look pretty or that I look like shit. I want to ask him, but I don’t have time.
“Houston, you need to leave.”
“Are you expecting someone?” he replies, glancing toward the elevator.
“That’s none of your business.”
His jaw clenches. “I came to bring you something.”
“Bring me something? Bring me what?”
>
His whole body seems to tense and that’s when I notice his hands are clasped behind his back. Is he hiding something back there?
“What is it?” I whisper.
He gazes into my eyes for a moment and I’m flooded with a gust of raw emotion. I desperately want whatever he’s going to give me.
“Houston, what is it?”
He opens his mouth to speak, but he’s interrupted by the ding of the elevator. I whip my head to the right and I watch anxiously as Liam glances at the sign on the wall pointing him in our direction. He turns left and his eyes lock on Houston and me, then he proceeds toward us cautiously.
I don’t know what to do. How do I introduce them to each other? Liam, this is the ex-boyfriend who destroyed me. Houston, this is my new friend Liam, who I hope will help me get over you.
Houston’s hand closes around my elbow, but surprisingly I don’t flinch. “Rory, you’re trembling. Are you okay?”
Liam arrives and seems a bit confused, so I quickly push Houston’s hand away. And now I’m shaking again, even more than I was before.
“I’m fine. Houston, this is my friend Liam.” I turn to Liam and hope he can see the plea in my eyes to cut me some slack for this very awkward, unplanned encounter. “Liam, this is… my old friend Houston.”
Houston narrows his eyes at my description of him, but after an awkward few seconds, he turns to Liam and offers him his hand. “Good to meet you.”
Liam nods at him as they continue to shake hands. “You too.”
Houston doesn’t seem to be ready to let go of Liam’s hand, so I finally grab Liam by the arm and pull him inside. His body is almost flush against mine, so close I can feel his warmth and smell his crisp scent. I whisper for him to go ahead and take a seat on the sofa and he smiles as he heads inside.
I shut the door behind me so I’m alone in the corridor with Houston. “I told you not to come here.”
“Is that your boyfriend?”
“No, it’s not my boyfriend. Actually, it’s none of your business. You need to leave.”