“Hmm, I see,” was all she said in her husky voice. I still hadn't gotten over how drastically different we sounded. It was a deeper, sexier, grittier version of me.
“I've got to meet somebody,” he said, looking a little too anxious to leave.
“So it would appear. Tell me something, Cooper,” she said, leaning in close to him. “How long have you had this monkey on your back?”
“What are you talking about?” he asked defensively.
“I can feel it. Don't play dumb with me, I might take offense. You don't want to offend me, now do you?” she asked calmly, cocking her head to the side gracefully. I was at a total loss as to what was going on and decided to sit back and hopefully catch up on the conversation.
“Listen, I don't know what you're picking up on, Scarlet, but it isn't me. Can I go now?” He looked directly at her, but the fire behind his eyes had been sufficiently smothered by her power. Scarlet had that kind of effect on people.
She let her head loll to the other side, analyzing him for a moment.
“I guess,” she replied, “but I'll get my answers, Cooper. One way or another I'll get them.”
He nearly ran out the door to escape her. She laughed as it slammed behind him and I was reminded of just how frightening she really was. She sauntered back into the bedroom and looked at the ring on the bed. She spoke aloud to me, which seemed odd since we shared the same mind, but she did seem to have quite a flair for the dramatic. I just went with it.
“So, Ruby, exactly what is it you need from me now?” she asked, sounding bored. “I don't see anyone I need to kill.”
It’s my back…I was hoping you could heal it for me. Can you do that?
“You brought me out to play for that? Menial tasks are beneath me, Ruby, but I suppose it won't serve either of us well to have you in total disrepair.”
She walked over to the mirror and stripped her shirt off, turning so she could see the jet black bruise on the right side of my lower back. It was in the kidney region and I was thankful that I wasn’t peeing blood after that blow. She started poking at the area as if testing its stability. She probed my lower ribs and I nearly passed out – funny how I could feel the pain and she appeared unfazed. She must have sensed my discomfort.
“Do you think they're broken?”
Yes. Maybe just the lower two or three on that side.
“Hmm. It'll take a little while to deal with this. Perhaps you should do a shot or two of vodka before we get started,” she suggested.
Why?
“Because it's not going to feel good, that's why. You have no idea how big a favor Sean did for you in Utah.”
What do you mean? What did he do?
“He put you in a coma, essentially. It somehow allowed me to do the healing while you still remained in control. It also allowed you to feel no pain. I would be extremely thankful for that if I were you,” she said gravely.
Don't you feel pain?
“Not one bit.” She smiled wickedly into the mirror in front of her.
Guess I drew the short straw yet again.
“Yes, you surely did, Ruby. Now I think I'll go drink some vodka for you,” she said, chuckling to herself. “It'll be a really long night without it.”
* * *
I continued to nurse vodka straight out of the bottle for about an hour or two after the ordeal was done. I wanted to forget about it as quickly as possible. Peyta was going to be home shortly and I was hoping to be passed out by then, literally. Sadly, there was no such good luck on that front. She came bouncing in shortly after ten, smiling from ear to ear.
“I'm no dating expert, but isn't it a bad sign when you come home early?” I asked, hiccuping in mid-sentence.
“Ha ha, Ruby. No, it's not a bad sign. He said he needed to get home. We had an awesome time, thank you very much.”
“Great, glad to hear it. What did you guys end up doing?” I asked, fishing for information.
“We caught the last viewing of an environmental documentary playing at the old cinema in town. We were the only ones in the theater, can you believe it?” she asked in total seriousness.
“Uh, yeah. I can totally believe it,” I answered, laughing out loud. “Did you pick him up? Where does this character live, exactly?”
“No. I met him in the theater. He said he'd be coming from work and would possibly be late, so I should just go in without him.”
“So he made you pay? Interesting.”
“Shut up! It was fun. I really like him,” she pleaded. I didn't have the heart to keep giving her crap about it, so I dropped it.
“What's his name?” I asked.
“Gregory. Greeeeeeegoryyyyyyyyy,” she sang as she skipped to the kitchen.
“Must've been one hell of a first date,” I mumbled to myself. “OK, I'm off to bed. I've had a rough day that I'd like to put past me now,” I said, heading towards my room. “Goodnight.”
9
By the time Saturday rolled around I was feeling no ill effects from the doorknob incident. I was even okay enough on Friday to go down to Boston for our final run through of the entire show. Matty was a basket case when I got there, going on and on about some lift that we needed to tweak because of a minor wrist sprain he'd gotten earlier in the week. We managed to put out that fire early in the night, and everything else went according to plan.
The next day I worked the morning shift at the shop, leaving by noon so I had time to pack everything up, eat, drive to the theater in Boston and get ready for curtain call at five p.m. I was hoping to get a chance to check in with Cooper before I left to see if he was still planning on coming. We'd been working on the show since he started going all weird, and I wasn't sure if his crazy ass still wanted to go. Peyta was having Gregory over to the house while I was gone. I wasn't totally settled on the idea since she'd just met the guy, but she assured me it would be fine and I gave in. Some parent I would make.
I double-checked with Peyta as I left that she understood the rules: he had to leave by midnight regardless of whether or not Cooper or I had made it home, bedrooms were completely off-limits, and if I found bodily fluids anywhere in the living room someone was going to die. I meant it, too. She reassured me that the terms were acceptable and would be followed to a tee. She threw in an extra “ewww” at the bodily fluids part; I felt much better after that.
I made my way upstairs to pack my makeup and wardrobe, and grab some food. If I'd been a planner I would have gotten most of that stuff collected and ready to go earlier in the week, but I wasn't, so I didn't. My makeup was strewn about the floor near my full-length mirror as it always was. For somebody who didn't wear a lot of makeup I had quite an impressive collection of it, always top shelf, too. I sorted through the MAC and Bobbi Brown compacts to find the shades suitable for stage makeup, which was really a euphemism for looking like a socially acceptable whore. I grabbed foundation, bronzer, cream blush and mascara, and added them to the bag. Once I managed to locate my black eyeliner and fake eyelashes, the makeup mission was completed.
Since the production was on the lower side of the budget spectrum, our “costumes” were really nothing more than coordinated practice gear. I was having trouble locating all the pieces I needed and was praying that I hadn't thrown any in the washer, as its contents were still sitting in it, sopping wet from the day before. I really couldn't afford to sit around for forty-five minutes waiting for them to dry, but alas, the fates were against me and that's exactly what I had to do. My brown boyshorts or “spankies” (as I called them), were looking at me from the bottom of the washer when I opened the door. My date with the dryer was sealed.
After collecting everything else necessary that was already dry, I threw my bag by the apartment door and went to the kitchen to wrangle up something to eat that would last for the next six to eight hours. Judging by the lack of contents in the fridge, it didn't look promising.
Why do I hate the grocery store so much?
I had enough to scrape toget
her a grilled cheese sandwich and a can of tomato soup. After my first non-date with Sean, I'd kicked my veganism to the curb; it really allowed for culinary creativity in a pinch. I didn't know that two little innocent crab cakes could undo years of regimented eating. As I slurped my soup on the couch watching some ridiculous reality show, Cooper walked in.
I wonder which version I'll be getting today?
He looked like hell. The bags under his eyes were dark, his face sunken, complexion sallow. His hair was a mess, which was unheard of, and his clothing disheveled. He looked like he hadn't slept or showered since I saw him Thursday night and the longer I assessed him the more likely that was the case – he still had on the same clothes.
“What the hell happened to you, Coop? You look like shit.”
“Nice to see you, too, Ruby. Nice to see you, too,” he replied as he dragged himself towards the bathroom. When I heard the shower start up, I was grateful; he didn't smell very pleasant.
I got up to follow him because of my affection for poking bears with short sticks.
“Were you on a two-day bender of some sort, or did you find an especially friendly girl to spend some time with?” I asked with a condescending smile plastered to my face.
“I'm exhausted. Leave me alone,” he pleaded as he tried to close the door in my face. I shoved my foot in the way so he couldn't, and he didn't try to force it. I was becoming accustomed to moody, unpredictable and even violent Cooper, but depressed and sullen was new for me.
I followed him into the tiny bathroom. Part of me wanted to kick him while he was down to make up for the months of assholedom I'd endured, but the rest of me wanted to hug him and do what I could to help; good or bad, he was my friend. I didn't have a lot of those, so I couldn't afford to be frivolous with the ones I had.
“Cooper. Please let me in. I hate this, all of it. What it's doing to you, what it's doing to me, to us. Please,” I begged as I gently laid my hand on his naked back.
“I'm sorry, Ruby, but this is the way things have to be now.”
“But why?” I pressed. “What changed? I don't understand.”
He turned to face me, wearing the softest expression I'd seen from him in a long time.
“I love you, Ruby…that's why I can't let you understand,” he said as though that made any sense at all. “The less you know, the better.”
I'm going to regret this…
“Better for who, you or me?” I argued, trying not to sound as frustrated as I was. “After everything we've been through, you don't think you can trust me?”
“It's not that. You really can't understand, Rubes. I don't fully understand,” he explained weakly.
“Whatever, Coop. All I know is I'm wicked tired of being your multiple personality doormat. I never know who's going to walk through the door!”
“I know. I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I'm working on a solution for that.”
I wanted to continue letting my pent-up anger out, but he looked so dejected that I just couldn't. I let it be for the moment.
“OK. I hope you find one,” I said as I turned to leave.
“Me too, Ruby…me too.”
I stopped short when I remembered why I wanted to talk to him in the first place.
“Hey, are you coming tonight?”
“That's the plan,” he said, his back facing me again.
“As in 'that's the plan but it may not be carried out'?” I asked for clarification.
“No. As in 'I'll be there because that's the plan'.”
“Good,” I replied, walking out of the bathroom. The dryer buzzing down the hall was my cue to leave.
* * *
Backstage was chaotic as I had expected it to be. My nerves were getting the best of me, making it difficult to put my false eyelashes on. Matty walked by and laughed as I nearly glued my eye shut.
“Here,” he said reaching his hand out for the tube. “Before you hurt yourself.”
He drew a thin line across the base of the fake eyelashes and delicately plopped it in place, just above my lash line. He took the liberty of doing the other side, and I didn’t argue.
“Are you sure you're not gay?” I asked jokingly, knowing that he got that question all the time.
“Yes, I'm sure. I have three older sisters. They used me for dress up,” he replied. “I do this instead of getting therapy. I figured I'd put my torture to good use.” He lifted my chin to the light to inspect his work. “It looks good, but you need more shadow. And you could stand a little more bronzer too.”
“More bronzer? I think the jig is up, Matty. I'm ghostly pale, and no amount of bronzer will hide that fact.”
“The stage lights will wash your face out more. You need to give definition to it,” he explained. “Here, give me that. I'll do it.”
I let him fix my face up to his satisfaction then went to the dressing area to get prepared for the first number. Once dressed, I sat and stretched in a corner by myself. This was a big moment for me, and I was thinking about how nice it would have been to share it with my parents. The only person who'd be there was Cooper, and I wasn't positive that would even happen. I felt very alone. As I made my way to the stage for the opening number I tried not to focus on that.
My first three of four performances went amazingly well. Being on stage was intense but thrilling at the same time. The lights blinded me and I could barely see that people were watching me have my moment on the vast stage. I was officially in love with performing.
Matty found me before our last dance together and we ran through a few technical moves while we waited; our number was second to last. He said that was quite a compliment to the choreography. I took his word for it.
I must have looked nervous because he came and put his arm around me in a friendly gesture.
“You're doing great, Ruby. You're really far more talented than you give yourself credit for,” he said encouragingly.
“Thanks, but it's not that.”
“What is it? Can I help?” he asked sweetly.
I frowned at him and shrugged.
“It's just, well, the last time I 'performed' this piece for someone, it was really private, and somewhat accidental for that matter,” I tried to explain. “I feel a bit…exposed doing it here. I didn't realize that I would.”
He hugged me with his long arms and put his chin on my head.
“Dance is therapeutic, Ruby. You're not exposed, you're vulnerable – but I'll be with you. Focus on that.”
I smiled up at him as I gave him a squeeze back.
“I don't think I could do this with anyone other than you,” I said admiringly.
“I know,” he said smiling. “I'm the only one tall enough to lift you.”
I punched him in the arm lightly as I called him a choice name in jest.
“At least I didn't call you big! That would have been misinterpreted for sure,” he laughed. “I'd have been in the dog house forever!”
“True. And my tall ass forgives you, for now,” I replied. He seemed satisfied with that response.
We joked around for a few more minutes before we had to line up in the wings; we were next. As the roar of applause broke out for the number preceding ours I felt butterflies in my stomach, hoping we would draw a response like that with “Gravity”.
The curtains closed and we made our way onto the stage to assume our positions. Matty gave a quiet whistle and I looked across the width of the wooden platform at him. He shot me a wink and a smile that made everything better in that moment.
I heard the squeak of the curtains as they opened behind me. I saw my long, dark shadow drawn out on the wood floor before me. I felt the warmth of the lights on my back as I stood still, waiting for the first two chords of music to play. As the time approached for the movement to start, I took a deep, cleansing breath and cleared my mind. I didn't want to think, just dance.
Instead, a single image popped into my mind.
Sean…
10
After the sh
ow, I cleaned up a little and toned down the mess on my face. I just couldn’t go out in public with that much makeup on, even if it was only for a minute. I gathered my things up and said some quick goodbyes before I headed out to the car. I was looking forward to a quiet night at home and was anxious to get there ASAP. As I was exiting the building I ran into Matty, literally, and he offered to escort me to the parking lot.
“I think we brought down the house with your piece,” he observed, sounding proud. “The crowd went nuts! Everyone was on their feet.”
“I didn’t notice,” I replied distantly.
I hadn’t really been looking at the crowd as much as I was looking through them. I knew Cooper was supposed to make the trip down to watch, but with our roller coaster of a relationship and his current lack of reliability, I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Instead of trying to connect with the audience, I scanned over them the entire time; it worked for me.
“Well, they were. You should learn to take a compliment if you’re going to continue to produce pieces like that one,” he said jokingly.
I smiled weakly at him.
“That piece was a result of divine inspiration. I don’t think I’ll be replicating that any time soon,” I replied, as I deflated even further.
“Too bad,” he lamented. It was amazing.”
We rounded the corner of the auditorium and crossed the street to the parking lot. Our cars were all the way in the back so we meandered through the hundreds of others, Matty chatting all the way about the evening and our respective performances.
As we neared the final row, I scanned the lot looking for where I’d left the Audi. I froze immediately when I found it, causing Matty to plow into the back of me as my “warning: stops short when startled” sign was clearly not working. While I peeled myself off of the trunk of the car before me, Matty remarked about the gentleman perched atop the hood of my TT.
“Isn’t that your car over there with the guy sitting on it?” he asked, body tensing slightly.
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