by J. R. Rogue
“Ah. I don’t know.” She grabbed her phone and slipped it into the outer pocket of her purse.
“Spill it,” I demanded and pointed my fork at her.
“There’s nothing to spill.” She shrugged.
“Yes there is. Come on. Are you seeing someone?”
“No.”
“Then what is it? Your ex?”
“No!” She exclaimed. The disgust covering her face made me believe she was serious. “Never, that’s done. I can’t wait for the divorce to be final.”
“See, you seem different about that. You were desolate before. And damn, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you’re not. But what changed?”
“Okay,” she said, sitting back and staring at the ceiling. “Just don’t get all weird about this.” She leaned forward again, put her fork down, and reached for a napkin.
“Kat. I’m currently kind of seeing the dude I live with who is like family to my family and seven years younger than me. Spill it.”
She took a breath. “Well. I have been talking to this guy. Texting. That’s it.” She blushed and stared at her food.
“Who is it?” Did she meet him on social media? Surely people didn’t use Tinder around here. All you would find were people you had known since preschool.
“I don’t know,” she edged.
“What do you mean? Like is he from a dating website or something?” She wasn’t giving me much to work with here.
“No. Ugh.” She leaned back in her chair again and crossed her arms. “This is going to sound too weird when I say it. Okay. I got a text from a wrong number a while back. I said they had the wrong person. No big deal. Then they texted me again. And we, we started talking.”
“What? How does that even happen?” This was how you ended up on Dateline. This was how you ended up stuffed into a freezer. This was how you ended up a skin suit!
“I don’t even know. He wanted to talk to someone and he said he thought it would be easy to talk to me, since we didn’t know each other. Since we were strangers. We have been sharing everything. I told him all about my divorce. He has told me about his problems. He called me a week ago. We don’t even know each other’s names. Who knows if we will ever meet. And we may, and have absolutely no attraction to each other. But, regardless, he has helped me.”
She seemed relieved to have it out there. The way I did when I showed her my poetry.
“Oh wow,” I said, still processing. “I don’t even know what to say. I’ve never heard of anything like that.” I kind of wish I had thought of it. It would make for a good story.
“I know.” She sat back up and reached for her phone. “Weird, huh? And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t want to share it yet. I’m sorry.” He face was still a bit pink, and it was adorable.
“Stop apologizing. You’re my best friend, but, I know I’ve been gone. I know it isn’t like when we were kids. I do, I do want us to be that close again.”
“But you’re going to leave here one day again, right?”
“I don’t know.”
I didn’t want to think about the future. A future with leaving, anyway. Initially, I had no desire to stay, and now, staying seemed right. I didn’t know what was going on with my love life. It was too new. But I didn’t want to put an expiration date on it before it had even begun.
“Because of Chace?” My friend was smiling at me.
“Yeah,” I smiled back. “I think. I don’t know. Who knows what is even happening? But, I feel like I can be me with him. Or no, not me, a better version of myself. Someone worthy of him. Because who I was, she couldn’t keep a man like that.”
“You’re too hard on yourself. Stop that.” She threw a carrot at me, and I ducked.
“No, I was shitty. I don’t want to be that person anymore.” I wanted to crawl out of this skin, shed it, and begin again. It was never too late to begin again, right? I had to believe that.
“Well I don’t want to be who I was before, either.” She finished her salad and threw it into the trash across the room. Then came back and sat down.
“What the hell are you talking about? You are perfect,” I said, still working on my lunch.
“Well, maybe, I want to be a bit like you now.”
“Why would you want that?” I choked on the bite in my mouth.
“I want to be a little more selfish. I want to do the things I want. I don’t want to take care of someone. I want to be a little reckless. I never was. It’s my turn.”
“Proceed with caution,” I laughed. “My mother suspects something is going on. And I didn’t exactly get the impression she was thrilled.”
“You’re mom supports whatever you do.” My friend’s motherly, advice-giving voice had emerged. “You know that. But, like you said, he is like family to them. So it may take some adjusting.”
“I know.” I hoped the adjusting would be easy, painless.
“Is it worth it? You and Chace?”
I did not hesitate. “Yes.”
The very next day, Chace and I had a cycling date. An early morning cycling date. I groaned into my pillow, regretting my agreement. I had been meeting him in town when he had breaks between classes to ride. Today he would not have much time so we decided to ride just after six in the morning. He knew I was not a morning person, and that I was agreeing just to appease him. His smile declared his appreciation.
I hoped that Chace wasn’t one of those people who cycled regardless of the elements. Rain, shine, snow, hail, nothing could stop him. He didn’t seem like the type of guy to let it stop him. I hoped he was aware his cycling partner would let that stuff stop her, gladly. I fumbled in the early morning light for my phone and tapped out a text to him, inquiring if our trip was still on. If he said no then I would gladly head back off to dream land. My phone dinged quickly, alerting me to his response. We were still on. Wishful thinking always bit me in the ass.
I stumbled out of bed, showered, and made my way downstairs in proper attire. Chace was loading our bikes onto the rack on the back of his jeep. He had a thermos in his hand when he reached me. He knew I needed it.
We rode silently into town, comfortable in each other’s presence. I needed to talk to my mother. This was feeling familiar and I was happy. Strangely, the fact that we still had not slept together had me feeling something close to falling. It’s all in the fall.
After a quick ten-mile ride, we headed home so that he could get ready for class. I wouldn’t see him until he got home that night. He had a shift at the local bakery and coffee shop after class. I took a quick morning nap when we returned, texting my mother before I hit the sheets asking if I could meet her for lunch that day. I texted Kat as well telling her today was the day. She wished me luck.
I met my mother at the only sushi joint nearby. Their rolls were surprisingly good. Nothing compared to New York, but I enjoyed them. My mother had become a fan of sushi when she came to visit me one fall.
My mother was on me as soon as the waitress was gone with our drink order. “So, what’s up?” She knew. She always knew. I tried to keep my face blank, to hide the freight train of fear inside.
“Well,” I began, slowly. “I wanted to talk to you about something. I’m scared. I’m not going to lie mom. I’m scared of how you will react.”
“You know that you can tell me anything,” she assured. “You always can.” She reached across the table and patted my hand.
“I know that. I just, don’t like letting you down…” She surely wouldn’t be too surprised. She had already suspected.
“What is it?” She asked.
“There’s something going on with Chace and I.” Bandage off.
“I see,” she said, focused on the menu. She knew what she was going to order but still, her eyes were trained on it. I wanted to crawl into a hole.
“So, what do you think?” I said after a minute, an hour, a day of silence.
“I’m not surprised.” She set her menu down. “I told you I noticed something on
Sunday. I knew you were brushing off the truth. You’re both adults. Whether this pans out or not I will love you both. You know, there is the age difference. I know you are a smart girl. I know you are not blind to that. Just remember it. Don’t get too caught up in looks or lust or whatever.”
“Mom, don’t say lust.” I groaned.
“You’ve said far worse in your books.”
“True.” She got me there. But she was my mom. My teacher-mom. I didn’t want her saying lust.
“Just. Be careful.” She smiled lightly at my confused face. “Be careful with him.”
“I don’t intend to hurt him.”
“How many people do? Doesn’t stop people from being hurt.”
I wondered if she was thinking about my dad. He didn’t give two shits about hurting us, so many years ago. Her father didn’t give two shits about hurting me, but she still loved him. Because I couldn’t break her heart with the ugly truth.
“I’m not going to,” I said, my voice was firm.
“Does this mean you’re staying around?”
“Yes. As long as there is something here, between him and me, I don’t see me leaving. I know that sounds crazy. I don’t even know what this is. But I don’t want to leave.”
With those words, I had made a decision. I couldn’t decide if it was me still being reckless or if it was me finally growing up.
“So you do care about him, then?” She smiled and my shoulders relaxed. I had been tense since the moment we sat down.
“I do. He’s not what I deserve. I want him though.”
“You deserve the best. Don’t let yourself think otherwise.” She reached across the table and took my hand again.
“I love you.”
“And I, you.”
I waited on the porch for Chace to make it home that night. I lit some candles, poured a glass of wine, and pulled out my typewriter. I wrote for two hours before I saw his headlights shining down the long driveway. Artax barked until he parked, as usual. He knew who it was. But he barked all the same.
I gulped down the last of my drink, and set my typer to the side. I propped my bare legs onto the wicker table in front of me. I studied the ink there, as I waited. Chace smiled at me as he came up the front steps, and then pointed inside. He needed a minute. My phone dinged next to me. I pulled up a text from my New York pal.
Gemma: you need to call me! Tristan came looking for me. He begged for your number. I wouldn’t give it to him but I let it slip you went home. CALL ME!
Great. I would call her in the morning. I didn’t believe he would track me down here. It was ridiculous. Gemma was very dramatic. Truly she just wanted to gossip about the situation. I turned my phone to silent and set it aside as Chace returned.
“I talked to my mom about us today,” I blurted. The wine making me brave.
“How’d that go?” He sipped his beer and stared into the yard.
“Weird at first,” I admitted. “Then, good. She’s still worried I am going to break your heart.”
He turned back to me and looked me in the eye. “I’ll take my chances.”
I blushed. “I guess I can’t be upset that people worry about my commitment issues.”
“She’s probably just thinking of my mother when she says that.”
“Your mother?” I didn’t know much about her, besides the fact that she had torn his family apart. I didn’t know anything about who she was before that night.
“Yeah,” he said, evenly. He took a seat on the chair next to me, and stared into the distance again. “I hated my mom, for so many years. I hated what she did to us. I hated that she took my sister from us, and nearly took me out as well. But, she was my mother. I still have memories of her. Good memories. I remember her taking my sister and me for gelato. I remember her sitting in a chair on the porch watching us ride bikes back and forth, never losing site of us. I remember her reading to me at night, and kissing me on the forehead before she pulled the covers tight. She would whisper ‘night tiger’ and I loved that. I loved her. It’s hard for me to reconcile that with what she did. Even after all of these years. I could have died too. There were times I wish I had, so I could have just gone wherever my sister went. I hated what she did to my father, hated what he turned into. He was never the same. The sight of me reminded him of everything he lost. The sight of where my leg had been. He shut me out. He shut down, when I needed him the most.” His voice was so low; I could barely make out the last part.
“I’m so sorry.” I reached for his hand, dangling over the armrest. I gently touched my fingertips to his.
I knew how he felt. Some small part of me had loved my grandfather for years, and I hated myself for it. The guilt ripped at me. He had destroyed the innocent girl I was, but I remembered little things he did to make me happy. I would smile at those thoughts, and then spend days punishing myself for letting any love inside that remained, free. I clenched my eyes at the memory of it all and shook my head. I focused on Chace again.
“One day I went to my dad’s study to let him know I wanted to go ride my bike,” he started. “I didn’t enter right away because I heard him talking. He was on the phone and the door was cracked. I didn’t listen in on my dad’s conversations, but I couldn’t stop myself. The first thing I heard him say was ‘Jesus, Sheila. She was having an affair. With a man who didn’t want kids.’ I stopped. He was talking to his sister about my mother. He had found emails of hers. She hated her life with my father. She didn’t love him. She was planning to leave him and us when we got back from our vacation. She didn’t want to commit. She never wanted a family or kids.”
Fuck. His mother and my father would have made a perfect pair. I gripped his hand harder. No words came to me. He turned to me.
“I’m not saying you’re like that,” he insisted. “I’m not saying your mom thinks you are. But, maybe, she stills sees that little boy she helped. And damn, she did help me. She was the mother I wished I could have been born with. But I’m an adult now. I can make my own choices. If I get my heart broken, it’s okay. That’s life. It’s ugly and petty and harsh. But I’ve survived the worst. So have you.”
“You’re so…” I stopped. I hoped he saw himself the way I did. The way everyone did. “I don’t know. You are ridiculous. You’re wonderful. You’re fucking perfect.”
“I think that about you. Especially when you cuss like a sailor.” He gripped my hand back.
“I’m a classy lady.” We both laughed.
So, this was it. This is what I wrote about from time to time. This is what I loved reading about: sharing the sunrise with a man you didn’t want to leave. The art of him, in my bed, at sunrise. Fuck. He was lying there, dead to the world. His lips lightly parted, as he breathed. It’s all in the fall. I was falling. Too fast, but it didn’t make it any less true. And strangely, in that moment, I felt no fear.
I left him sleeping. I wrote a note and slipped out, again. I was meeting my mother early at her house before the book signing she had organized that day. My novellas had arrived at her house; I still needed to sign them. I couldn’t stop smiling. I was an idiot.
The library was a complete mad house. I was not expecting it in my small hometown. They must have come from every county in the area. I didn’t know my mother had put much of a word out. I had been worried about the turnout and the attitude, but everyone was wonderful. Everything was falling together.
To my surprise, when I addressed everyone beforehand, I announced that I would be publishing a collection of poems later that year. I hadn’t discussed it with my agent or publishing company. They would be less than thrilled with my rogue approach. Nevertheless, Chace made me crazy. Crazy in my belief that people would embrace it and follow me in my new endeavors.
The only bad seed of the day was Chace’s ex. She showed up at the signing, to my surprise. She was with a friend who clutched one of my books. She never came to my table, but rather, gave me the stink eye the entire time. I couldn’t help but laugh inside. I felt
for her, I did. Losing a guy like that had to sting.
After nearly five hours of signing, well past the allotted time, things began to wrap up. I ran to the bathroom while the library staff and my mother began to tidy up. I had been holding it for nearly an hour.
When I returned, I found a small crowd around my table again. Possible latecomers. They were whispering and excited. I smiled and approached, then stilled at the sight of my mother talking to a man facing away from me.
Her face was white as she glanced around his 6’3” frame in my direction. He turned when he saw her notice my approach. It. Was. Tristan. Fucking fuckedy fuck FUCK.
My stomach lurched. He turned back, said something to my mother, and then walked to me. He smiled.
“How did you find me?” I didn’t want him smiling at me. I didn’t want to smile at him. I didn’t want to have small talk. The crowd had turned their attention to us.
“Wait. Save it. Come with me.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him into the women’s restroom. Locking the door behind us. “Okay. Spill it.”
“Your assistant is dating my publicist now,” he said. His green eyes made me angry. He had a strange look in them. Affection.
“Wow, she didn’t tell me that. And I can assure you it is an ex-assistant now.” I made a mental note to fire her once this conversation was over.
“Come on, Ser. Don’t take it out on her,” he said, walking towards me. I backed up, hitting the door behind me. I pointed my finger at him, causing him to stop.
“Okay, I’ll take it out on you. First, don’t call me that. Second, what the hell are you doing here?” I screeched. I hated that he had me all worked up.
“I miss you,” he said. He had the gall to sound sincere. He had won an Oscar a few years ago though.
I pulled a deep breath through my nose. “No, no you don’t.”
“I fucked up,” he apologized. “I wasn’t thinking. I never should have let you go, and I never should have ended it the way that I did.” He stared at me full on with his deep forest eyes. Women got lost in them. I just wanted to tear them out of his big dumb attractive head. Green eyes were lying eyes.