by Brock, V. L.
“I didn’t pay any consideration to how Liam felt about my actions, the way I dressed… Liv,”––I peached myself on the edge of the seat, my shoulders gathered at my ears as I leaned into my forearms, eager to demonstrate my point––“To see the look in his eyes and how happy he is when I fulfill his wishes, is the best feeling. Knowing that I am making him happy…” Even her hard, disbelieving eyes couldn’t wash the lunatic grin I had plastered over my face.
As I trailed off rummaging through my brain to find a word expressive enough to describe how deliriously happy making Liam happy, was making me, Liv delved into her bag. A moment later she sighed, “Here.” I seized the tube she handed me with caution. Removing the lid, I twisted the bottom to raise the cherry red lip stick.
“Liv, I don’t think red is my color.”
“No, neither do I, but if you’re altering yourself to become a Stepford Wife, which gesturing by your attitude and poor, poor taste in clothing, it’s blatantly obvious that you are, you might as well go the whole nine yards.”
Stunned by her rebuke, my eyes flared. There were no words in the entire human language which I could’ve used to describe how utterly insulted I was. How dare she think she could talk to me, not only in that tone, but with those harsh speculative words aimed at my relationship? I had to give it to her, Liv had a tongue like a razor, and I had just come to realize that I never wanted to be on the receiving end of it again. I hung my head as the ungainly silence sifted around the area, only to be ruptured by affronted gasps.
“I’m sorry, chick, that was––”
“You know what, Liv?” I lifted my head to stare into contrite, gold dusted eyes, her lips rolled over her teeth, and it would benefit her if she kept them there. “Until you enter a long-term relationship and learn the value of compromise and empathy, and to know that you are making your partner happy by doing those things,”––head shaking faintly, my eyes tightened while my upper lip curled in distaste––“then don’t think you can give me relationship advice.”
“You know what, chick,” she said pointedly. Even over the distance across the table, I could feel her pointing finger jabbing at me, albeit not physically. “You should never change for a man. No offence, but if doing all of that means you’ll end up like this,”––her point became a wave of her hand as she motioned down my body––“then I will quite happily remain single for the rest of my Goddam life.”
Taking a sip of coffee, I muttered my final words on the topic over the brim of my mug, “And that’s your choice.”
The best thing about mine and Liv’s friendship was, we could have our moment of expressing differing opinions, and yes, we would get into a debate about it, and something’s may be said which could easily be taken out of context. But, we were educated enough to understand that not everyone shares the same values and the same views of life, so we never let our words dictate the fundamentals of our relationship. It was a verbalized expression of our differing opinion. And it wouldn’t be taken any further.
She crossed her legs and raised her mug to her lips. “And swiftly moving off that topic, have you had any thoughts about his birthday?”
“Nope. I am completely stumped. He has everything, and I wanted to do something amazing for him, he deserves it, especially for the big three, zero. Still unemployed and I’m feeling like shit because I’m living off my boyfriend. I can’t use his money to buy him a gift, what sort of idiot would do that?”
“Bet you wished you saved up some of those tips now don’t ya,” she grinned like a cat that got the cream, and I couldn’t help but mirror at her attitude with an agreeing nod of my head and rolling of my eyes. Yes, she was damn right. I did wish that, it could have come in handy right about now.
“Thirty…what would a man love for his thirtieth birthday?” I mused, mostly to myself while gazing into thin air.
A gasp from across the table had drawn my attention back to the brunette. Her mouth agape, while mischief twinkled in her hazel eyes.
That expression was a traditional ‘Brainwave Liv’ expression.
Damn, we were in trouble.
Chapter Four
October 31st 2011.
Twenty months before the accident…
“I cannot believe you actually invited someone without passing it by me first. Liam’s going to have kittens.” The feisty brunette may have been donning a kinky Devil costume, damn; she could have been The Devil herself for all I cared. Either way, nothing was going to halt my scolding. Things had been going smoothly between Liam and me since his birthday several weeks ago, and if Liv’s infamous running off at the mouth was going to rock that boat, the large bowl that I was pouring potato chips into, would be flying across the room to meet the coffee and cream painted wall.
“Oh, come on. She’s been living above you for a few months now and”––she jumped down from the chair, taking a step back to admire her draping web in the living room doorway––“you still haven’t spoken a word to each other. It’ll be fun.”
I was just about to begin my sardonic probing into who it would be fun for exactly, when a shriek followed by a clattering of bags resonated from the hall. “Sis!”
I turned to face the direction of the squealer, and was suddenly attacked by a broomstick and a mass of green hair. “Brittany,” I opened my arms to give my little sister a not so little hug. “I love the wig.”
“Wig?” By the quizzical sound of her voice, something was about to tell me that this was yet another mishap for, Brittany Jenson. Both the world and the people in it were lucky that she strayed from beauty school. She pulled me away and held me at arm’s length, shaking her head. “This”––scornfully pointing to the masses, she continued–– “is supposed to be cosmic blue. That’s what the box said, I double checked. Does it look like cosmic-fucking-blue to you?”
Liv propped her hand on my sister’s shoulder and offered a sympathetic caress through her tears as we fell into loud fits of guffawing. I was sure that if her hand wasn’t braced on my sister’s shoulder, The Devil would have been rolling on the floor like a turtle trapped on its back. “It’ll fade soon enough, but at least it goes with the costume.” Liv always knew how to make someone see the upside to their downside, and by the grin on my baby sister’s face, she found comfort in the words of my best friend––the best friend who also suffered many a mishap in the hair and beauty department over the years.
“Speaking of costumes,” Brittany turned her attention back to me. Blue irises, which were a darker hue than my own, combed over the length of my ivory satin and lace high neck blouse with filigree shoulders, and a pair of simple black pants. She eyed me warily. “What are you supposed to be, sis?”
“Oh, haven’t you heard,” The Devil interjected, sweeping her hand in a downward motion over my body. “This is the new wardrobe––”
“And I think she looks just as beautiful as the first day I met her,” Liam countered, brushing the doorway web out of his face and strolled toward me. His hands were being loosely stuffed into his pants pockets.
“Hey, big man,” my sister raised her arms in defeat and in the process, nearly whacked Liv on the head with her broomstick. “I’m not one to judge. You hear all the time about past fashions making a comeback. Who’s to say we won’t all be wearing the Victorian ensemble within the next year, eh?”
His eyes were ablaze as he snared my chin between his thumb and crooked index finger, tipping my head back to gain eye contact. “The Victorian’s, if I remember correctly, had a lot of class,” he muttered, just before sealing his soft, warm lips over mine. As I was drowned in Liam’s arms, a sweet smile tiptoed across my face.
He loves me. And he thinks I have class.
By 9:15 p.m., the apartment was heaving. I didn’t realize we invited so many people. Well, when I say we, I meant Liam and Liv, considering the only unrelated person I knew and invited amongst the throng, was the only friend I hadn’t cut from my life…Liv.
Liam/Dracula, was mi
ngling with a group of rowdy lads near the couch with a beer in hand, Liv was somewhere or other, and don’t get me started on Brittany and her man-obsessed brain. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I found her in the bathroom with her ass in the sink and Casper between her legs. Her public demeanor would have Daddy far from impressed. But the only time she got to let her hair down, be it cosmic-blue, green or purple, was outside of D.C. and with me. I found pleasure in knowing that she was able to have fun with her big sister. And especially in knowing that she knew she was safe enough with me to let her hair down.
I made my way to the kitchen for another drink. Regardless of him being at my side, I didn’t want to embarrass myself or embarrass him, if something should’ve happened in an alcohol induced state. So, under Liam’s orders, I was limited to water or punch…punch was more favorable.
Lifting the silver ladle from the glass punch bowl, I poured a generous volume into the red plastic cup, when I overheard my name being called. Attention drawn away from the center of the dining table, I lowered the scoop and was met by The Devil with her red glittery lips turning up into a tempting smirk.
“Kady, this Laurie, she lives just above.”
Swapping hands, I grasped the cup in my left while extending my right. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” she smiled. She was only a slight thing with glossy black hair sitting just beneath her shoulders, her bangs block-dyed purple. She was donning black jeans and a white turtle neck, and in that moment, a part of me was thankful that I wasn’t the only person at a Halloween Fancy Dress Party, without a costume.
By the time I had offered the pale, round-faced woman, who merely stood at my chest, a drink, The Devil had disappeared back into the swarm of strangers ransacking my home.
Sitting down at the dining table in an awkward silence, our hands dipped every few minutes into the bowl of potato chips and pretzels. I used to love meeting new people and establishing new friendships. Yet, over the months, since I had cut a generous number of people from my life, I found that being in the company of very few people, with Liam at my side of course, was my comfort zone. Sitting at my dining table, in my kitchen, in my apartment, I felt completely out of my depths. I felt like a stranger to my surroundings.
Eventually, the deafening silence was too much to withstand. “So what is it you do, Laurie?”
She cleared her throat and took a swig of punch. “I’m actually in between jobs at the moment; it’s so hard out there at this time. But usually, I love being in the kitchen.”
“What, you’re like a chef or something?”
Amusement shone in her hazel eyes and she released a girlish, innocent giggle. “No, I’m no good with actual meals, but more like baking.”
“As in cakes?”
She nodded her response.
“Wow. That’s amazing. Even if I knew where to begin, I wouldn’t have the patience to complete it.”
Her hand was buried in the center of the bowl of potato chips as she spoke, “It’s really relaxing. And it saves on family birthdays,” she laughed quietly, removing her hand and popped the nibbles into her mouth. “What about you?” she added around her food.
At that point in time, I think it was more embarrassing for me to admit that I was unemployed than a stripper. But, through my humiliation, I fessed up, and did so with a very deep pleat scoring my brow.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Kady,” she rubbed my forearm in a gesture of reassurance. “My cousin has just been laid-off from some steel factory place that he’s worked at for about a year. It’s really hard out there at the moment.”
Being laid-off and quitting of your own freewill was two entirely different things. Although a stranger, I felt sorry for the poor guy. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Ah,” as she waved off my compassion with a gesture of her hand and an eye roll, an idea struck me. One I was sure killed two birds with the same stone, and one that Liam was going to love me for.
“Steel factory you said?”
With her lips caressing the plastic cup, she peeked over the brim, “Mmm, hmm,” she sounded on a swallow.
“I’m not sure if I should be saying anything, because it’s still in the pipeline,”––Laurie mirrored my movement as I inched forward on my seat and doubled over the table with my elbow perched on the edging––“Liam, that’s my boyfriend, he owns his own architect and construction company, DeLaney Constructs. Now”––I peeked over to the doorway, making sure we were indeed on our own––“do you know the old Williamson Estate a few miles from here?”
“Sure.”
“Liam’s drawing up a contract with someone or other, to have it demolished and have a new, up and coming estate of luxury homes built. He’s going to need more construction workers. If your cousin would be okay with construction…” I must have been addicted to making people happy. Watching Laurie’s eyes light up and sheen like toffee triggered warmth to radiate through my chest. It was the same elated expression I had been addicted to seeing, and being the cause of, on Liam.
“Really? Oh, my, God that is fantastic. My cousin will do about anything, he’s so passionate and he always puts in two hundred per cent at whatever he does. Do you think Liam would do that?”
As if he knew he was the topic of conversation, Liam sauntered through the kitchen door. “Hello, ladies.” He was swaying. He was beaming. He was tipsy. “Kady baby, your sister is a menace,” he slurred and waved his arm with an over exaggerated, drunken flare. “You give that Wicked Witch of the West a few drinks, and off she trots, pinching everyone’s asses and cackling loud enough to wake the dead.”
That wasn’t news, at least, not to me. That was typical Brittany and something I was used to seeing. So, I simply brushed off his remark and drew out his name like a child who’s about to ask for a pony off her parents, as the chips were invaded by his large, merry hand.
“Yes, baby.”
Laurie and I both broke into a smile as he mimicked my persuasive tone, kissing my head between crunching and swallowing.
I motioned a wave to the petite woman opposite. “This is Laurie. She lives upstairs.”
“Well, hello, Laurie.” Her pale cheeks flushed when he captured her hand and placed a chaste kiss on the back of her knuckles. Yeah, he really was drunk. “Welcome to the party.”
“Thank you, you got a wonderful girlfriend.”
“I know, she is wonderful,” he smiled down at me through his drunken haze, “and she’s all mine.” With his upper lip rolled to showcase his fake vampire teeth, he released a playful growl and lunged at my neck. The warmth of his mouth, alongside the sensations of his teeth and lips upon the tendon running from my neck to my shoulder, had me in an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
As I playfully battered him away and gasped for vital breath through the small stitch in my ribs, I began to talk. “Liam, Laurie’s cousin used to work at the old steel factory, but he’s just been laid-off.”
He craned his head. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Laurie. See, that’s why it’s more fulfilling being your own boss.”
He was getting way off track, and that haughtiness of his was sure to make a bad first impression. “Yes, well, you know what they say, ‘it’s not what you know; it’s who you know’?”
“Yes…” he drew out his word with interest.
“And with this next project being as huge as it is you’re obviously going to need more construction workers, aren’t you?” Motionless, I watched as Liam gradually sobered with each word I freed, and as realization dawned at which direction I was intending to steer this conversation…okay, persuasion. “And Laurie just stated that he always puts in two hundred per cent, and is very passionate about his work.”
I knew just as I had finished that that was Liam’s final straw. His drunken, fun-loving state was a past moment and the ticking jaw was making a brutal appearance once again. Somehow, I began to realize that pitching ideas obviously wasn’t my forte.
“He wouldn’t let you down, Mr. DeLaney,” Laurie bolstered.
A weighted sigh in addition with the daggers he was firing at me, had me shrinking in my seat and nervously gnawing on my thumbnail. Setting about the opposite side of the kitchen with heavy strides, Liam tore some paper from the notepad and scribbled something down before rejoining us and handed it to my new friend. “It won’t be for a few more weeks just yet, but you can give him my number. Get him to call me.” Laurie was still nodding when hard emeralds turned to pin me in my chair. “Kady, can I have a word with you a moment, please.”
By the elbow, he pulled me up and marched me out of the quiet kitchen into the hallway. The brusqueness of his movements had the air trapped under his black shimmering cape causing it to billow, while the rowdiness emanating from the throng in the living room was enough to drown out any words. Risking a glance, I peeked up and recoiled at once when I sighted his lifting hand. He tucked my hair behind my ear, and I found myself somewhat indebted that his touch was light and caring.
When he proceeded to trail it across my neck and held my nape, and as he leaned in with his head intimidatingly low, the bitter smell of beer on his breath spiraling and pasting on my flesh, I was immediately aware that this wasn’t caring Liam at all…
“I would appreciate it if you allow me to decide who is on my payroll in the future, do you understand?” the underlining fury in his voice was poorly masked. My body began to shake nervously while the sickening, weighted sphere of anxiety in my gut had the small contents of my stomach rolling.
“I’m sorry, Liam. It just seemed like a logical idea. You need more workers, and the woman in there knows someone who is in desperate need of work. I tho––”
“And don’t you think there are hundreds of people in Boston looking for the exact same thing?” he hissed in disdain, the profound guilt I felt was revealed with a drooping of my head. I overstepped the mark. Liam was right, DeLaney Constructs was his business, I had nothing to do with it, yet here I was offering a job to someone, when I was in no position to do so. What was I thinking?