Keeping Pace

Home > Other > Keeping Pace > Page 9
Keeping Pace Page 9

by Dee Carney


  Donna, on the other hand, had dark brown hair like mine. Hers, however, was long and curly, cascading over her back in a way that I’d never been able to get mine to do. She had wide brown eyes and a way of looking at me that left me uncomfortable. Her tiny sleeveless red shirt, worn without a bra as evidenced by erect nipples and swaying breasts, and equally tiny black shorts, didn’t help my growing dismay.

  Josh shook their hands, and I watched heat flare in Donna’s gaze. Neil and Rayanne were holding hands, which must have meant Donna was the third leg in this scenario. In seconds I watched Donna do some quick mental calculations of what it would take to latch on to Josh.

  Josh reached for me, pulling me forward. At some point, I’d managed to take a step or two away from them. He opened his mouth, presumably to introduce me, but Donna beat him to it.

  “Is this your mom? That’s cool you brought her to a game.”

  Neil’s eyes widened. Based on his reaction, he must have already met Josh’s mother, Susanna Smith. Josh, at least, didn’t betray his emotions, whatever they might have been, with his face. “This is my friend, my date, Regina.”

  Donna had the decency to blush. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I—nice meeting you.”

  I shook everyone’s hands, but the jovial atmosphere degraded into one of awkward silence. At last, Josh said, “Neil, I’m still at the same email addy. Keep in touch, man. We should do a few of these games together.”

  “Right. You bet.”

  Before we turned, I saw Rayanne frown at Donna, who gave a helpless shrug in reply. I almost felt sorry for her.

  Josh pulled me in close to him when we walked away, his hand on my hip. “You okay?” he murmured. His lips brushed across my hairline in a kiss meant to soothe my bruised ego.

  “It’s bound to happen. Whatever.”

  In truth, I was too embarrassed to dwell on what was the inevitable. A situation like the one we’d just left had been what I’d tried to avoid all this time. Josh may not have minded being the brunt of talking or staring, but he was so laid-back, he probably would never notice. I had a more fragile disposition and wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

  Before we got to the seats, Josh bought two cups of cold beer. I sipped on one gratefully, needing something to cool down my still flushed face. Not my choice of beverages—in fact, I detested the stuff—but when in Rome, as they say.

  The crowd around us made talking difficult, so I tried to follow the game as the hours went by. Josh was enthralled by the action, and a lot of the time I just studied him. His youth caught up with him while he cheered, his eyes bright with excitement. He high-fived strangers around us when the Hawks rounded the bases or when the other team struck out. We bought beer and popcorn, using the brew to cool us down on the warm day and the popcorn to soak it up.

  By the time Josh guzzled down his third one, I started to map out the route home in my head. I’d never seen him uninhibited and didn’t want to waste this opportunity. Let him drink it up, because we were celebrating the end of his dissertation and our first date. I didn’t have a problem driving us home.

  By the end of a few innings, he was loud and drunk and surprisingly adorable.

  People were coming and going, several times forcing me to squirm out of the way to let them pass. Before he’d finished his fourth beer, Josh mumbled “restroom” and squeezed his way past me as well. I still had my first beer in hand, not halfway done, and let him pass.

  A few minutes later, someone else offered their excuses to get past me, and I didn’t give it a second thought to make room. When the person sat in Josh’s seat, however, I did turn to face him.

  “Excuse me, I’m sorry, but that seat’s taken,” I said.

  A middle-aged guy with salt-and-pepper hair had taken up residence. His eyebrows and moustache were still dark brown, offering a contradiction to the hair above. Olive complexioned with long lashes and a straight nose, he was an attractive man by all counts. “I saw. I just wanted to come over and introduce myself.” He held out a hand. “I’m Rob.”

  Some instinct had me reaching for his hand before I’d thought not to take it. “Regina.”

  “Enjoying the game?” His voice held the beginnings of a slur, sounding just this side of sober.

  I tried not to smile but felt my mouth curve upward anyway. Show me a woman who says she doesn’t enjoy a man flirting with her, and I’ll show you a liar. “They’re not my thing,” I replied with a shrug.

  “What would be your thing?”

  “I don’t—listen, I’m flattered. Really I am, but I’m here with someone.”

  Rob looked puzzled. “That kid?”

  Great. Twice in a single day.

  I started to protest but then stopped myself. What would be the point? Instead, I lifted my shoulder in a simple shrug. Before I had a chance to politely request he leave, I felt a presence next to me.

  “Hey brother, I think that’s my seat.” Josh, as always, had impeccable timing. Anyone who looked at him would be able to tell he’d been drinking. Despite the crisp enunciation, his eyelids drooped, and he just had the aura around him. The same kind of aura that put cops on alert when pulling a driver over or nurses disbelieving when they asked exactly how the dildo had become stuck up there.

  Smirking, Rob looked at me. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

  “Just go. Please.”

  “All right.” He managed to turn that single word into a sentence full of disdain. “Your loss.”

  Josh waited until they were face-to-face before stepping up to Rob. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Rob looked skyward, and I swore the world around us ground to a halt. I felt every pair of eyes in that stadium turn toward us. “If the lady likes kids, who am I to stop her?”

  A muscle in Josh’s jaw ticked. “You’ll be telling your buddies this kid was a lot bigger and meaner when they come to visit you in the hospital bed if you don’t get out of my way.”

  My eyes went wide. “Josh!”

  I’d barely gotten his name out when pandemonium erupted.

  I can’t say who struck who first. In one minute they faced off; in the next, men were shoving and pushing. I think a few people tried to get between them and break it up, but Josh and Rob went after each other like lifelong enemies. Someone had the presence of mind to pull me out of the way, and it took four men in security uniforms to pull them off each other.

  Inevitably, we were escorted out of the stadium and asked not to return.

  The side of Josh’s face started to turn colors during our train ride, but it couldn’t come close to the red filling my vision whenever I looked at him. I should have been concerned about his welfare, whether he’d received any concussive wounds or whatnot during the tussle, but that empathy wasn’t there. “I’ve never been so embarrassed in my entire life,” I said, my lip curling with disgust.

  “I leave for five minutes and come back to find you with some other guy?” he replied hotly. “Fuck that.”

  “I was not with some other guy. I was there with you. You wanted this date. You.”

  “Yeah, I get it Regina. Today was all about me.” He snorted.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He shoved a finger in my face. “You didn’t want to be there. I tried to make this fun, and you sat there all stony showing everyone how much you hated it.”

  Whoa. “I did not hate it.”

  “But you sure as hell didn’t like it, did you?” His gaze bore into mine. “I’m plenty good enough to fuck but nowhere good enough to be seen in public with.”

  “Whoa, wait a minute, mister. My idea of a date is not a baseball game, but because you invited me, I wanted this. So look at what you decided would be a good time. Would you want to be seen with someone in your state? Our ages have nothing to do with it.”

  “Whatever. This is bullshit.”

  This was not the Josh I knew. This drunk person next to me had dropped the f-bomb twice in under five minutes. My Josh was even-kee
led and too mature for his own good. This person was hateful and belligerent and not someone I wanted to be around for another minute.

  As much as I wanted to engage his uncharacteristic behavior, no good would come of it. All I wanted to do was get home and let Josh sleep it off. When I felt less like committing a random act of violence, and he was sober, we could continue. Fortunately, the train pulled into our stop. “Give me your keys, please. Let’s just get home.”

  The ride back was nothing like the way to the game. Inside the SUV felt hot, the air around us stifling. The air-conditioning couldn’t cool us down to normal temperatures. Forty-five minutes stretched into forty-five years.

  I parked in front of the Smith’s house, where I couldn’t turn the engine off fast enough to leave and go inside my own home. I felt dizzy and nauseous, wondering if perhaps I’d endured a little too much sun. My shoulders were red, and my face still blazed. Whether from the heat of the day or prompted by my lover remained to be seen.

  Dropping his keys in his lap, I said, “Go inside, Josh. Sleep it off.”

  “There’s nothing to sleep off. It’ll still be the same when I wake up.”

  “What?” I sighed, fatigued. “What will still be the same?”

  “I’ll still have to fight you to go anywhere. I’ll always take a backseat to any man your age who shows any interest in you. I’ll never be old enough for you.”

  The image of Lou’s face popped into my mind, and I shoved it aside. “That’s not true.”

  “Of course it’s true.” Josh sounded tired now. He tilted his head back, leaning it against the headrest, his eyes closed. “You want my cock, Regina, but you sure as hell don’t want me. I’m done fighting you on it.”

  I was outraged by his accusation, which was untrue. Absolutely untrue. It hurt me to hear those words, and the pain from my heart made me gasp. Tears stung the backs of my eyes, and I swallowed the moisture down, not permitting a single drop to fall.

  In that moment, all I could think about was hurting him back. But if it was a child’s game he wanted to play—and that was how I saw this argument—then I would not sink to his level.

  I propped the door open and set one foot outside. Before rising, I turned to him and said, “You think you’re going to hurt me with ugly words? You’re not. And here’s a piece of advice for you, Joshua.” My voice hardened into steel. “Grow up.”

  Chapter Twelve

  We didn’t speak to each other for the rest of the weekend. I was still humiliated by Josh’s behavior which had caused us to be thrown out of the stadium, so that worked out just fine by me. I missed him like hell, but I wouldn’t let a little lack of companionship weaken my resolve. He owed me an apology, and I wouldn’t settle for less.

  By Monday morning, I was running on fumes as far as sleep went. As before, Josh’s absence wreaked havoc on my ability to rest comfortably in the night. Even the nap I tried to take on Sunday had been restless. No one had to tell me that my fatigue made me cranky. I felt it through my toes.

  “Good morning, Linda.”

  She looked up from her task, her eyes narrowing the moment she started studying me. “You okay, Reg?”

  “Just tired. Do me a favor—nothing that doesn’t absolutely need my attention makes its way onto my desk today, all right?”

  Perhaps my choice of a yellow cowl neckline shirt and gray pinstripe slacks didn’t bring out the best in my appearance, because she kept looking at me like I’d grown two heads. “Sure thing, boss lady. But you’re sure you’re okay?”

  I plastered on a smile. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Regina…” She hesitated, and that made me face her again. “You’re not going to like your email.”

  My stomach plummeted. Instead of questioning her, I hurried inside, hit the power button to my computer and waited for it to boot up. Linda knew me very well, and if she said I wouldn’t like it, I believed her.

  The fan on my computer hummed, the screen still black as I waited impatiently. It would have been easier to simply question Linda outright, but as stated before, my secretary knew me well. She wanted me to see the email for myself, because my reaction would not be a good one. My purse still hung from my shoulder as I swayed from side to side, watching the little green light on the CPU flicker in and out.

  At last the screen turned blue and musical keys played at me. After a quick double-click on the desktop icon, I started to tap my forefinger against the mouse, waiting for technology to do what it supposedly did so well.

  About two dozen emails had come in since Friday evening, and I scanned the subject lines of them all, trying to pinpoint the important one. My heart began to race as I read Congratulations Beth on one sent Saturday morning. Sent from Lou.

  I deflated inside as I continued to read the body of the message. Although I had been acknowledged for laying the foundation, Beth was being given kudos for booking Ken Stroh to deliver his safety speech to the community in two months. A date had been set and confirmed by both sides.

  What had taken me months to put on unstable ground had been secured by Beth in less than three weeks.

  I wanted to vomit.

  My legs weakened beneath me, forcing me to lower into the chair. Thank goodness for Linda, who’d anticipated my reaction. She’d left me alone to wallow in envy and wounded pride. I was sure later she would seek me out to offer solace, but right now, the last thing I needed or wanted was another coworker around to see me so dejected.

  A better person would have been able to reply to the email with a heartfelt congratulations right away, but I wasn’t there yet. I couldn’t believe I’d so severely underestimated her skill, which, by all appearances, outdid mine. Lou and everyone else had seen what I wouldn’t in her.

  It took me almost twenty minutes, but I did eventually fire off a congratulatory email to her. She didn’t respond.

  After another twenty minutes of sitting there in a stupor, I stopped waiting for one to arrive. Despite a severe lack of focus, I got to work doing what they paid me to do.

  “You’re a hard person to catch up to.”

  Great. Just what I needed to round off the morning. I’d managed to swallow my pride for the past three hours and put on a happy face. Now this. “Hey, Lou.”

  He made himself at home in one of the seats opposite my desk. I wish I didn’t notice how his royal blue shirt brought out the color in his eyes, but nothing else was going my way today, so why should this? A few stray hairs peeked out of the gap at the top of his shirt, sending my mind down paths of imagining. How much hair had turned gray on his body exactly? Was it only on his chest or maybe all over now? Was there more or even less than the last time I’d seen him? I shouldn’t have had the thoughts plaguing me, but that didn’t stop the questions from forming.

  Lou glanced at the door he’d shut behind him. Leaning forward, he looked straight into my eyes. “Are you avoiding me?”

  “Of course not.” I had been.

  “That’s good to know. Given what we discussed any more thought?” A look must have crossed my face, because he added, “I know I’m throwing a lot at you, so why don’t we take it slow?”

  “And taking it slow would mean…”

  “Let me take you out to dinner Friday night. Someplace nice in the city.”

  The situation with Josh was tenuous at best. Nothing prevented me from accepting. “I’m sorry, Lou, but I have plans.”

  “Yeah?” Something in his eyes flashed. “That guy at your house—what was his name—Josh! With him?”

  “No, not with him.” At least that wasn’t a lie.

  “Who was he, anyway? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  It dawned on me why I’d become so uncomfortable with Lou’s sudden pursuit. He pressured me unnecessarily out of the clear blue. The Lou I thought I knew was a patient man with a lot more finesse than the person in front of me displayed now. There was more to his behavior, but I couldn’t put my finger on what exactly.

  “In fact, I do mind
you asking.” I struggled to keep my voice even and nonthreatening. “On top of that, I have a righteous headache right now and can’t think straight. So…rain check, huh?”

  Lou reached across the desk for my hand, curling his around it. “I’m not going to keep asking, you know.”

  “I know.” With everything in me, I prayed I wasn’t making a mistake. “It’s just really bad timing for me.”

  He smiled at me, and I felt something inside melt a little. “Don’t wait too long.”

  Things weren’t completely resolved between us, but Lou stood and left. I followed the motion of his ass, not feeling the least bit guilty about it. He filled his pants out nicely, but he didn’t have that sway Josh had turned into an art. The kind that left me breathless.

  A shudder went through my body as I allowed my thoughts to drift to him. God, I did miss that man. Not just the sex but him. Our talks. The way he furrowed his brow when concentrating. The scent of him when he hugged me. How he managed to coax out the things that were bothering me before I even knew they were.

  I hated that we were fighting. A two-day separation shouldn’t have affected me as deeply as it did, but my aching heart didn’t want to hear that.

  Even more, I hated the last words I’d said to him.

  When I arrived home that evening, I looked toward his house, but the familiar black Range Rover wasn’t sitting in the driveway. My house on fire wouldn’t have gotten me to go over there, but it miffed me that he wasn’t sitting there, pining, waiting for me to drive up so that he could run over with a dozen roses in hand to apologize.

  I chuckled to myself, amused by my runaway imagination, and automatically headed toward the sliding glass door as was my habit when I came home from work these days. The picture ahead of me was wrong somehow, and it took almost a full minute to realize why.

  I’d expected a familiar little package to greet me, his reassurance that all was right between us despite our disagreement. But two pink roses didn’t rest against the glass waiting for me. All I could see was the blackness of the night.

 

‹ Prev