by Judith Tewes
“Just drive.” Roach lifted her head. For a few seconds her eyes were clear and focused. “Need bed.”
My second time driving Miss Bernie held far fewer jerks and stops, but still enough to induce the odd moan of agony from Roach. My years as a passenger served me well, I knew I couldn’t risk getting stopped by the cops, and managed to locate the old highway that skirted all the traffic. I was driving without a license with a drunk in the back seat. Somehow I didn’t think claiming designated-driver status would get me out of a hefty ticket, or worse.
However, the route I took was twice as long than if we’d been able to go straight through town, and in that time, Roach sobered up some. Enough to crawl into the front and bolt herself into the passenger seat.
She tugged on the seat belt. “Ugh…I can’t do it. I’m so wasted.”
“Nope, it’s not just you. I’ve been telling you for weeks that thing needs to be fixed.”
“I’ve never been in this seat before, so how was I to know?”
“Because I told you. Multiple times.”
Roach sighed. “I messed up, Char.” She sniffled. “You’re not going to believe it when I tell you.”
Oh lord. “What happened?”
“No,” she slapped the dashboard. “You first. I saw you go upstairs with Gavin. Deets. Now.”
It all came flooding back. “It was the perfect chance, Roach.”
“So you did it too.”
“No,” I shook my head, still stunned at how the night turned out. “I didn’t. We didn’t. But I’m fine with it. Because tonight I realized sex isn’t going to change my life in some phenomenal way, or help me to control what’s happening with my mom, or make me a stronger person, or fix Monty. I mean, look at the guys I chose for the list. It’s like I deliberately—wait a fucking second.” I slammed on the breaks. When we recovered, I twisted to face my best friend. My religious, saving-herself-for-marriage best friend.
“What do you mean, I did it too?” I punched on the interior light so I could see her better.
Roach flushed. “I should never have judged you about your list, Charlie.”
“Judged me? You didn’t,” I said, totally confused. “You helped me update it.”
“But I thought you were wrong.” Roach sniffled. “The whole time I’ve been saying you were making a huge mistake and in my heart, thinking you were being sinful.” She half laughed, half cried. “What a joke. There’s only one virgin in this car and it ain’t me. The kicker? I’ve been with Preston four times now. Four times. And we haven’t always been careful if you know what I mean.”
“Jesus.” I swiped a hand down my face. “You’re not pregnant are you?” My mind buzzed. Roach had been drinking tonight. Wouldn’t that affect the baby? I sucked in a breath. Oh, man. How the hell was she going to tell her parents?
“THE DEVIRGINIZERS”
OUTTAKE #4: IMMACULATE DECEPTION
INTERIOR. DUNMORE RESIDENCE. LIVINGROOM.
DAY / NIGHT / WHO CARES, THERES A BABY ON THE WAY!
MR. and MRS. DUNMORE perch on the couch as a ginormously knocked up ROACH paces / waddles before them. CHARLIE stands nervously beside a portable whiteboard upon which a confusing array of graphs and symbols have been written with a dry erase marker.
ROACH
(stops dead in front of her parents)
So you see, it depends entirely on how you define immaculate.
END OF OUT TAKE
Chapter Thirty-four
No, Roach wasn’t pregnant; in fact, Aunt Flo had made her presence known shortly after we’d arrived at the house party. Exactly why Roach went ahead and drank her face off.
She’d been having a bit of an I’m-not-preggers celebration.
The rest of the ride home she told me how she and Preston had consummated their relationship two days after she’d met him. All that time I’d been going on and on about losing it and Roach had been scared to tell me because she didn’t want to burst my bubble about already popping her cherry.
I’d safely dropped Roach off at her house, snuck her inside without waking her parents, and then walked the few blocks to Monty’s - in the freezing snow. The chaos that met me when I dragged my boots along the sidewalk only added to the what-the-fuckness of the evening.
I froze about twenty feet from the house, my heart pounding.
A fire engine was parked on the curb, lights flashing. An ambulance too. The raucous cry of a fire alarm screamed through the front door propped open by one of Monty’s heavy wood dining room chairs, and then fell eerily silent.
A crowd of bathrobe-clad neighbors stood on the street, watching the movements of a few firefighters walking around the front lawn. Keeping the spectators at a safe distance.
“Hold up, there,” one of men in uniform made a grab for me as I tried to dart by.
“That’s my grandfather’s house. He’s at home and his dog—”
The fireman relaxed his grip. “Your grandfather’s fine, come inside, the EMTs are with him now.”
An excited bark made me pause, and I spied Mona huddled under the snow and shrubbery at the edge of the front yard, illuminated by the light spilling out of the house. She edged toward me.
“Come here, girl.” I held out a hand, beckoning her closer, but her wild eyes darted to the fireman and she crept back into her hole. “I’ll be right back for you.” I told Mona.
I ran up the front steps.
“Monty?” I called as soon as I was inside. Now I could smell the smoke, and the ominous scent grew stronger as I walked down the hall. I was barely aware of the fireman who’d accompanied me into the house. Finally, I made out the rumble of his voice over the drone of others and I bolted for the kitchen.
And there he was, sitting at the kitchen table while an EMT took his blood pressure. Monty looked up when I entered, watching me like a frightened child about to be scolded.
The kitchen window was wide-open, the lace curtains black and singed. A frying pan rested in the sink with gusts of smoke billowing up from its blackened surface.
“He’d had a grease fire and tried to put it out with water,” the fireman at my side explained. “Got to the drapes when a neighbor noticed the flames in the window and called 911. When we arrived, they’d managed to cover the pan with the lid and put it out.”
I nodded, but couldn’t take my eyes from Monty. I could have lost him.
Quick strides took me to his chair. “Monty, are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you burned anywhere?” Monty couldn’t respond. I knelt beside him and after checking his hands and face for injuries, and finding none, I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tight.
I opened the door as the last of the EMTs left. Mona burst from her hiding spot, bolted between my legs and scrambled down the hall, her nails clattering. When I caught up to her she’d skidded across the kitchen floor and jumped into Monty’s arms. He pressed his face into her fur.
“We’re okay, Mona,” he said, voice muffled by Mona’s wriggling body. “Charlie’s here now and we’re just fine, see?”
I dropped into a chair. I couldn’t so much as blink as I watched M&M. They were safe. We were all safe. This time.
I jerked my head to the sink. “There’s a black layer of crusty goop an inch thick on that pan. What were you making?” Call it morbid curiosity, but I wondered what meal was worth dying for.
Monty’s eyes were wide and pale. “I don’t know.”
When I finally convinced Monty he should go to bed, I couldn’t hold the truth in any longer. I was in over my head. Monty was asleep in minutes with Mona curled at his feet.
There was only one thing left to do.
I picked up the phone.
“Grace?” Her name was a sob. “I need you.”
I pulled on another of Monty’s heavy coats, killed the porch lights and sat on the front steps, watching the meteors rain down. I cried for each and every second of the fifteen minutes it took for Grace to pull up to the curb.
Then she sat
with me on the stairs and I told her everything.
Then Grace put her arm around me and said it would be alright. That we’d figure something out.
Together.
Fuck that’s a beautiful word.
Chapter Thirty-five
Rehab graduation day, I’m thrilled to report, involved multiple instances of bodily contact. AKA – hugging. A lot of it. While this same group of strangers had once been awkward and resistant to each other, that was clearly no longer the case.
A folding table stood in the center of the reception area decked out with a multi-colored plastic tablecloth, finger food and all the fixings, as well as a huge rectangular slab ice-cream cake that a beaming Max cut into liberal wedges. He handed me a piece - so liberal - the paper plate buckled under its weight, and ice cream dribbled over my hand.
“Thanks, Max.” I licked melted cake off my thumb. “Nice spread you got going.”
“We like to give our people a proper send off,” he said, offering me a napkin. I took it and mopped up the rest.
Conscious of the hungry hoard, I joined Max behind the table. While we chatted, I alternately scarfed down cake and helped to feed the line.
“You should be proud of the work your mother’s done. She’s come out of this a winner.”
“I am proud. I’m over the moon, raise the roof, proud.” I shot him a sideways glance. “But I’m nervous.”
“So is she.” Max nodded in Mom’s direction. She’d planted herself near the exit, as if ready to bolt for freedom, but she was leaning against the cinderblock hospital wall like she was glued to it. “They all are, and with good reason. Staying clean in here is one thing, out there,” he waved a plate toward the exit sign, “every day will be a challenge.”
“Hey.” I dumped my empty plate into the garbage can at the end of the table. “Mom can do this, you know. She’s a strong woman. When she commits to something, she gets so into it, she probably should be committed. Besides, she has me.” I gestured across the room to where Mom stood – with Grace cracking jokes to make her smile – and Monty making himself useful by holding the single piece of luggage she’d brought with her. “She has us.”
“I know,” Max said. “I just wanted to make sure you did.”
“Ah…playing mind doctor, are we?” I wagged my finger in Max’s face. “You’re tricky.”
I left him to it and made my way across the room. Considering I’d thought Mom would lay into him on sight, inviting Monty to her graduation had gone pretty smoothly. I knew I probably had Grace to thank. She’d had several meetings with Mom after the frying pan incident, and between the two of us, we’d managed to negotiate a truce. Not only that, Mom had agreed to let Monty and Mona move in with us.
No guarantee it’d work out, or how long we’d be able to care for him at home, but for the moment, it kept Monty out of the likes of Horizon Way. Grace and her soon-to-be ex-husband – we all knew that one wasn’t going to last – had helped with the move and sent loads of Monty’s stuff to storage. The house was up for sale, and of course, Roach’s mom had the listing.
“There’s my girl,” Mom said, pulling me in for, you guessed it, a hug. “Isn’t she beautiful, Dad? I’ve always thought she looked a bit like Mom. Do you see it?”
“She’s there in you both, don’t you forget it.” Monty’s eyes scrunched up in one of his winks. He picked up Mom’s bag that he’d had resting on the floor. “When are we leaving? This place gives me the creeps.”
“I’ve said all my goodbyes,” Mom said. “I guess we can be on our way.”
Grace made a move to scoop the bag from Monty’s trembling grip, but he bared his teeth, letting his top denture drop onto his tongue. She quickly stepped back, dropping her hand.
“Children, behave,” Mom said.
We started for the exit, just as Eric entered.
There was an awkward moment where we did that horrible sidestepping dance, both avoiding eye contact, then he faked right when I dodged and he slipped past. I turned to watch as he walked right up to Morgan, swept her off her feet and spun her in his arms.
“Isn’t that…?” Grace said, leaning in so my mom couldn’t hear.
“Yeah.”
She put her arm around my shoulder. “I’m sorry, kiddo.” I realized she’d made the same mistake I had and thought Eric and Morgan were a couple. I didn’t have the strength to explain. Free man or not – he hadn’t looked my way. Not once.
Monty led the way out, actually heading in the right direction.
“How long before they kill each other?” Grace asked, slicing a glance to Monty and then back at Mom who trailed behind us.
“We might make it to your car.”
We both laughed.
Mom lingered in the entrance. “Here we go,” she sort of whispered to herself.
She took one step, then another, catching up with us in a few strides. She wormed her way between us, linked her arms with ours.
And we went home.
Chapter Thirty-six
“I don’t see why we can’t have sloppy joes,” Monty griped, taking his place at the table while Mona whined at his feet.
“We can. We do. Just not every night of the week,” Mom said. “Doesn’t matter, you won’t be eating a thing if you don’t get that dog out of my kitchen.” She put her hands on her hips. “It’s one rule, Dad, and don’t pretend you forgot. That’s getting old.”
Grace, Mr. Adams – I just couldn’t call him Wesley – and I exchanged amused glances.
The doorbell rang. No one moved to answer it.
Mr. Adams stood. “I can get that if you like.”
“No!” Mom and Grace said in unison. Mom waved him back to his seat. “Relax, Charlie will get the door.”
I signed and I slid my chair back, hand out for what I knew was coming.
Mom dropped a few bills onto my palm. “He can keep the change.”
“Of course,” I said, counting the money. “This should go over well.”
Seconds later, I started to speak even before opening the front door, “Heya Mr. Pizza Dude…” I swung the door wide. “We meet again.”
Only it wasn’t Mr. Pizza standing on my doorstep with a toothpick between his teeth. It was Eric.
My Eric. On my doorstep, holding an oversized brown paper delivery bag baring the Up A Chuck’s logo balanced precariously on his forearms. Sans toothpick, he did have a sales slip between his teeth, which he promptly spit out on top of the paper bag.
I shot a glance back over my shoulder to see Mom and Grace standing in the hall, hopeful expressions on their guilty faces. They’d known exactly who would be on the other side of the door. I stepped out onto the front step, closing the door so the would-be matchmakers couldn’t gawk.
“That’ll be $54.40,” Eric said. Damn, I’d missed his voice. Missed his face. Missed him.
My heart fluttered like a thousand of Eric’s paper cranes. Breathing became optional.
“Why are you here?” Was Eric in on this ploy to get us face to face?
“Tony usually drives, but he has the flu.” Hmm. I bet Grace arranged that.
“Since when do you guys deliver?” Where were these questions coming from? How did I manage to sound so calm when I was wigging out?
“Since I thought it would be a good way to expand our reach. Now do you mind?” His eyes were deliberately vacant. “$54.40.”
“Oh, right.” His distance pissed me off, but I couldn’t very well jump the guy, could I? We awkwardly exchanged goods, the moolah for the bag. Immediately after the transfer, Eric spun on his heel and made for the car parked on the curb.
I stood there for a second. I turned to face the house. I spun back to watch Eric getting closer to that damn car.
Shit. Dumping the bag inside the house, I called out to anyone who cared, “Come and get it!” I bolted after Eric, slipping in my socks, the ice propelling me right into his back.
He grunted at the impact, spun around and held me upright. “Wha
t the hell, Charlie. Get back inside.”
“Not until you own up to what you did to me.”
“What I did to you?” Eric snorted. “Shouldn’t that be the other way around?”
“You left me waiting at the theatre for hours.” I crossed my arms. “That was a shitty thing to do.”
Eric pursed his lips. “Yeah, that was.” He nodded.
“Nodding is not an apology.”
He threw out his hands. “What do you want from me, Charlie? So I didn’t show that night. You see, I’d just been handed this list.” He took a step forward.
I took a step back, my toes cramping on the cold cement sidewalk.
“A list of guys you think might be up for the task of popping your cherry. And the guy who’s telling me this is grinning in my face, and I’m pissed, but then I see my name at the top and I’m kind of excited.”
He was so close his breath warmed my cheek. And it was crazy, because he was so mad and yet, not yelling. More like pleading for something only I could give him.
I closed my eyes, and leaned into his chest. He wrapped his arms around me like I was a magnet and he was a million steel shards. My breath hitched in my throat. I nuzzled into his neck, breathing him in.
“Until I see four words typed beside my name.” He whispered the hurt into my ear, even as I shook my head in denial. “Absolute. Total. Last. Resort.”
What? Oh, shit…I’d forgotten we’d put stupid comments in the margins. I leaned back. “Wait, that didn’t mean…”
He pushed me away. “What happened, Charlie, did someone else seal the deal and you had that goon give me the kiss off?” He gave me a cold stare. “Was it him?”
I flushed, thinking of Ty and what we’d done together. Thinking of Gavin. How did I explain?
“It doesn’t matter, you can do whatever you want, see whoever, sleep with…” Eric’s throat worked. “I just misread the situation. I thought—” He struggled to speak, then shook his head. “I felt something you obviously didn’t.”