I want to ask what her drug of choice was, but it doesn’t really matter all that much. My heart breaks for Elsie and for Malcom.
“Was she ever really an interior designer?”
“She was. She went to school for it, but from what Angie says, she got messed up with the wrong crowd. They moved here hoping to get her away from them, but addicts have a way of finding other addicts no matter where they go.”
“Does she have a key to your house?”
“No, why?”
“Because she was inside of your house when we got here.”
“I keep a spare key in the same spot I’ve always kept it in. I should probably move that.”
“Probably.”
“Do you have any other questions?”
“Not really. I just feel bad for Elsie and for you too.”
“Don’t feel bad for me. I’m a big boy.”
“She seemed more upset that you were out with me than she was excited to see her daughter.”
“Like I said before, she’s a different breed. I stopped trying to figure her out a long time ago.”
I left Malcom’s early this morning to wrap Christmas presents while the boys are gone. I told him I’d be back this evening. He said Elsie was staying another night at Angie’s since Roxi was there.
Mom left to go shopping with some of her friends, and Pops is out on the roof putting up Christmas lights. Before Mom left, she told him not to because he had fallen off a ladder this spring, and she’s scared he’s going to fall again and get hurt.
I reach a good spot in my writing and head out to see if he’s made any progress. I use my hand to block the sun, but I can’t find him on the front part of the roof. I walk around the side and say, “Pops?” He doesn’t answer, so I’m starting to think I’m going to find him on the ground with broken limbs. “Pops. Answer me or I’m calling 911.” I dig in my pant pocket for my phone.
“Don’t call 911, Addy. I’m up here trying to get these shit-for-lights untangled.”
He’s sitting on the back half of the roof with a wad of lights in his lap. I laugh. “Need some help?” I find the ladder and ascend it.
“It’s Malcom’s fault. He helped me take these down last year. Call him and have him come over here.”
“Pops, we don’t need him.”
“Call him.”
I came down off the roof to call Malcom. He laughed when I told him how pissed Pops was over the Christmas lights. He said he didn’t mind helping and is supposedly on his way over. I did warn him Pops seemed to be in a mood and was cussing a lot.
I went up to the attic to grab the outdoor decorations. I may not be able to help on the roof, but I want to put out the Santa, sleigh, and reindeer they always had in the yard when I was a kid. I found the sleigh, but one of the reindeer’s legs was broken off, and Santa is missing all together. I have such fond memories of these as a child.
I bring the sleigh down, and Malcom pulls up as I’m placing it in the center of the left side of the yard.
He walks to me, picks me up in a hug, and kisses my cheek before whispering in my ear, “Where’s your dad, Sugar Tits?”
“Stop it with that! He might hear! He’s on the roof. I was trying to put this sleigh up. I’m going to have to go shopping for a new Santa.”
“Why?”
“It’s missing.”
“It should be in the garage behind the stack of black doors.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, that’s where I put him.”
“How come I never knew you helped my parents?”
“I guess I was never over here when you were in town.” He shrugs and walks to the side yard. “Don’t be upset, but I broke the reindeer hoof off last year when I helped take them down. Honestly, I’m surprised Archie still asks me for help.”
“Pops doesn’t really have anyone else. Thanks for all your help.”
Mom and Pops were sitting in the living room when we left. It’s getting too cold for them to sit out on the porch. Mom brought in eight bags full of things she had bought, and Pops said she was going to spend all their retirement if she didn’t slow down.
I reluctantly agreed to go watch open mic night tonight at one of the local breweries. Malcom said they released a new holiday beer he wanted to try, and he knew some of the guys playing and wanted to show them support.
We’re sitting at the bar now, and I’m swaying the top half of my body back and forth to the music when I realize we have no pictures together. “Take a picture with me,” I say as I flip the camera on my phone. He stares blankly at the screen as I smile. I take three hoping one is decent enough to save. “Next time don’t act so excited to take a picture with me.”
“It’s nothing to do with you. I just don’t like pictures, but I’ll take as many as you want me to.”
I hear my name from behind me and look. There is a group of three women sitting a couple tables away snickering. They all turn their heads as if they don’t want me to know they were talking about me. None of them seem familiar to me.
“Do you know who the girls are behind us?”
Malcom glances around the room and then back at me. “No one important. But for transparency, I have been with one of them. It was a very long time ago and I haven’t spoken to her in over a year.”
I take in a deep breath. It’s a small town. We’re bound to run into women he’s been with. I go back to listening to the music. A girl gets up on the small stage; she has long red hair that reminds me of a fire, and she’s quite petite. She sings a song about Suboxone in Hell. It’s almost as if she’s singing the story of Roxi. I guess the girl in the song could be anyone, but I wonder if Malcom feels the same way. The song ends, and I have to pee.
“I’m going to the restroom.”
After I do my business, I exit the restroom. “You know I could have him anytime I want,” a girl who is standing against the wall purrs as if she’s a cat. “All it would take is a text, and he’d be at my door.” She has the most perfect lips I’ve ever seen, and she’s shaped like an hourglass.
I brush her off and act as if I didn’t hear her. Malcom is sitting alone when I get back. “I’d like to go home now.”
“Sure thing. Let me tell the guys bye.”
TWENTY-FOUR
“She said she could have you anytime she wanted,” I say to Malcom on the ride to his place.
“That isn’t true.”
“But she was one of your females.”
“Was, as in, not anymore. There is only you. I took you in public. I’m not trying to hide you. I’m not trying to keep you a secret.”
“My divorce isn’t final.”
He sounds annoyed, “I know. You say it at least once every day.”
“I can’t give you all of me.” I tug to free my hand, but he tightens his grip.
“You say that too. Listen, I know you’re technically still married, and if you hadn’t actually filed for divorce, I wouldn’t have let myself get attached.” He pauses. “I say that, but I think I would have still fallen for you. People are boring, but you're, you’re something completely different.”
I interrupt before he continues. “Promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“Promise you won’t tell me you love me until after my divorce is final.”
He smirks. “Who says I love you?”
“Malcom, I could tell where the conversation was heading.”
“Okay then. I won’t.”
I want to ask a question I’m not sure I want the answer to. “How many females did you rotate before?”
“Four or five for the last five years I guess.”
“I really thought it’d be more than that.” I guess when I said rotate that wouldn’t include one-night stands. I’m not ready to ask that, and really, it doesn’t matter.
“I barely had the time for them. Most of them ended it because I wouldn’t drop what I was doing to go have sex with them.”
“Hmm.”
>
“What?”
“Just, hmm.”
“I know you want to say something. Say it.”
“It’s just that, you find time for me. I find it hard to believe you couldn’t find time for them.”
“I never really thought about it that way. Maybe I didn’t want to give them my time.”
“That sounds more like it. She really did a number on you, didn’t she?”
He sighs, “Yeah.”
I stare up at the stars. I’m not going to pry anymore. I didn’t even have to say her name. He knows who I was talking about. To me, I don’t see how he fell ‘under her spell’ as he says. She is pretty – there is no denying that. I really thought she wasn’t ready to be a mom yet; I had no clue there were drugs involved. It’s not my place to say anything, but he really shouldn’t be letting Elsie around her. But without a custody agreement, I guess he can’t really do that.
When we make it into the house, I’m exhausted from all of the events of the last two days. He didn’t push for sex last night, but I know he isn’t going to want to go two nights in a row without any.
After I freshen up in the bathroom, I pull on the same t-shirt of his I wore last night. I took my underwear off. No need to wear them when he’s only going to be taking them off in few minutes. The Bearcats sweater is on the floor, and I think about burning it. I’ll never be able to wear it again. It makes me sad because I had grown fond of it.
Malcom’s sitting up in the bed already under the covers. His glasses have fallen down the bridge of his nose, and he’s staring at his cell phone. I can see the light from the screen reflect off the glass of his frames.
“What are you reading?” I ask.
“Your article in The Hive about figgy pudding.”
“I thought you only read sports-related stuff.” I climb in beside him in the bed.
“I didn’t even know what figgy pudding really was. I was curious.” He puts his phone down on the table beside the bed.
“Think you’d ever eat it?”
“Now I didn’t say that. I’m not a big fan of figs or dates.”
“I know you’re not big on dates,” I tease.
“Stop it. You know what I mean.”
“I do. That was my mom’s recipe. If you plan to come for Christmas dinner, there will be figgy pudding.” We hadn’t talked about how we were going to be spending Christmas. My parents normally have Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve. I usually give in and let the boys open everything on Christmas Eve as well because they know I’m really Santa. I’m not sure when I’ll have them this year though. I need to check.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Really?” Wow. I feel like we are moving fast. I haven’t even formally introduced him to Atticus and Sawyer yet.
“Really. Now let's quit talking. I have a different idea on how we can use our mouths.”
He pulls the blanket down revealing he isn’t wearing any underwear either. His shaft bobs up and down as he repositions himself in the bed. He moves down to my feet and begins rubbing my right foot, paying attention to the parts between my toes and then he moves on to my left.
I flip on my belly and let him slide up the backs of my legs to my backside. He pushes my shirt up and gives each cheek attention. He bites the left and then the right, and I don’t know why it feels dirty, but it does which turns me on even more.
He moves up my back and works on my shoulders. I pull my arms up under me. He begins to massage my scalp and next thing I know, I hear him say, “Did you fall asleep?”
“Huh.” I turn my head and move my hair out of my face. I blink my eyes a few times and yawn. “I didn’t mean to. It felt so good, and I’m tired. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not mad. Well, maybe a little. I’m hard as a rock here, and you’re sleeping. I don’t normally give rubs for this very reason.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Quit saying you’re sorry. I wanted to be nice. I knew you’d probably fall asleep, but I know women love that type of shit, and you’ve had to deal with more than your fair share of my woman drama.”
“You know, I’m always looking for the reason you’re still single. How has some girl not swooped in and made you her man yet?”
He gives my lips a gentle kiss. “She has.”
“Shut up. You know what I mean.”
“If you’re not going back to sleep, then can we…” He gestures to his manhood.
The light bulb in my head turns on. “There it is. I knew it was somewhere.”
“Stop it.”
His phone begins to vibrate from on top of the dresser. He kisses me on my neck, and I feel his tongue dart out. His phone stops vibrating long enough for it to begin to vibrate again. “I think you should probably get that,” I say as the phone falls from the dresser to the floor.
When he answers his phone, all the color in his face drains until he’s white as a ghost. He says, “I’ll be there in a minute. Lock the doors.”
He pulls on his jeans without underwear. He seems frazzled. “What’s going on?”
“Roxanne is out of gas on the highway, and she has Elsie with her.”
I move my hand to my mouth. Who drives a car around in the middle of the night with a kid and no gas?
“Do you want me to come?” I ask.
“No, I’m going to get Elsie, and I’ll be back.” He shoves his phone in his back pocket and grabs his keys from the dresser before leaving.
I hope they are okay. Why would she even take Elsie out at night? She should have just left her with her mom or called Malcom so he could go get her.
The movement in the room wakes me from my slumber. I was dreaming of Malcom and me having sex on the porch while Stephen watched from one of the corners. It was more of a nightmare. I’m glad I was awakened from.
Malcom is pacing the room and drinking a glass of whiskey. I can hear the ice clank against the glass every time he turns.
I hold myself up with my left arm as I use my right hand to rub my eyes. “What’s wrong? Is Elsie already asleep?”
“I had to let her go with her. I didn’t want to. She’s just a little thing. I fucking let her leave with her mom,” his voice sounds like he might cry. His eyes are sad and glossed over. I wonder how long he’s been back and how much he’s drank.
“What happened?”
“They were on the side of the road in her car. It’s freezing out, and since she ran out of gas, they had no heat. She said a cop stopped, but after she told him I was on my way, he left. He didn’t even offer to let them sit in his warm car. Bastard.
“I had some gas in a jug in the garage that I had taken with me. I put it in and then followed her to the nearest gas station. Her eyes were bloodshot and black. I filled up her tank and had her get out so I could talk to her away from Elsie. I begged her to let Elsie come back home with me, but she said it was her time with her, and I would get her back tomorrow.”
“What?!”
“She reminded me we don’t have an agreement, and she could take Elsie to Malibu if she wanted. I felt helpless. I asked her if she was okay. I feel like she needs some mental help. Who only puts three dollars in of gas and thinks it’s going to get them anywhere?”
“That was all she put in?”
“Yeah. I’ve been trying to figure out what I should do. Should I take her to court? I’m scared they’ll give her more rights than me or even fifty-fifty would be less than I have now. I like the way things are. I like having Elsie all of the time. I don’t want Roxanne to move her to Malibu. I don’t know what to do.”
“I’m sorry.”
I need to get up and leave, but I’m snuggled into Malcom’s back, and the smell radiating from him is invigorating. He’s cozy, too. He feels like home, and I never felt like the house with Stephen was home. It was a great house, big and nice enough, but it never felt like home. I didn’t feel as loved, or safe, or as relaxed as I do here right now with Malcom.
I have the sudden urge to lick his bac
k and so I do. He tastes like soap mixed with salt. He doesn’t make a noise or stir.
It took me awhile to get him to go to bed after last night, but finally he did.
I turn over to face away from him.
His voice is muffled. “Did we just break up?”
I turn my head back in his direction as he flips to his left side. “What? We aren’t dating.”
“I could tell by the way you turned away from me.”
“Sometimes you say the girliest things. Are these lines you’ve heard before?” I can only imagine the things girls have said to him over the years.
“Maybe.”
“Ew.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. They usually are funny.”
He snuggles into my back. His erection pressing into my backside. I rock back and tilt my head into the crook of his neck.
“Just let me love you.”
“Malcom,” I warn.
“Let me love on your body then.” I give in because I know he had a rough night, so I also want to give him what he wants.
He leaves kisses from the top of my right shoulder down my arm. He uses his hand to grab the indent between the tops of my thighs and the bottom of my abdomen. His hips then thrust into my backside. Then he rolls me on my back and crawls between my legs.
I don’t know why, all of a sudden, I get really insecure, but I don’t like that I’m lying in here in the daylight where he can see all of my imperfections. I have a taut lower abdomen, but it’s full of stretch marks the boys left. I pull the end of my shirt down, but Malcom stops my hand and pushes it back up.
Without saying a word, he uses his right hand to hold my hips down while his left circles my left thigh and slowly inches toward my tunnel.
I feel uneasy about just lying back and letting him do all the work. I pull on his leg, and he scoots the lower half of his body closer to me. I grab ahold of his length and a moan escapes his mouth as I lick my lips.
He slips a finger inside me, and I lock my mouth around him. He moves in and out, speeding up and slowing down without a rhythm. I suck and lick and pump him until his mouth suctions to my apex.
Why It's Called a Goodbye Page 15