Resurrecting Phoenix

by Isabel Lucero

  Me: Your dad?

  Evan: Amongst other things. It’s a tough story, Phoenix. Probably better talking about in person.

  Me: Okay.

  Evan: I’ll pick you up around five. Is that okay?

  Me: Yeah, sure. You know where to find me.

  Evan: See you later.

  The abrupt end to our conversation worries me a little, however, he did say he’d still pick me up, so I doubt he’s too upset. For the first time in a while, I find myself wanting to get to know someone. I want to know his past and his struggles. I want to know what makes him who he is.

  I continue to overthink my feelings towards Evan while I clean the house. As I’m dusting my tables, I come across a framed photo of me and Gordon that makes me think. If me and Evan were to try to get serious, would I need to remove all the photos of me and Gordon? Evan seems to be understanding, and I doubt he’d ever say anything, but is it fair to have those in his face every time he comes over? Would I be able to put those photos away?

  After I finish polishing the tables, I put all of my cleaning supplies away and go upstairs to shower. I choose to wear a cream-colored maxi dress that has large, pink floral print at the bottom.

  With minimal makeup and my hair falling loose around my shoulders, I slip on some sandals, and go downstairs to wait. A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s four-thirty, so without even thinking twice, I go to the kitchen and pour a small glass of vodka and grape juice. It isn’t until I’ve taken my first sip that I realize maybe I shouldn’t drink.

  Drinking has become a pretty common thing in my life, so while someone would normally grab a coke, I go for the alcohol.

  I know I need to stop, because I know it’s more than a recreational, couple times a month kind of thing. I know that I’ve been relying on alcohol in a way that’s not healthy. However, it’s so routine now that it’s hard to stop.

  Now, though, with Evan aware of it, and Marissa and Max, I feel like anytime I drink, I’m just letting them down. I want to prove to them that I don’t need it, but I think first, I need to prove it to myself.

  After looking at the drink in my hand longingly, I walk back to the kitchen and dump it out. With a sigh, I turn and leave the kitchen, grabbing my purse, and head outside to sit on the porch steps.

  The weather is nice and warm, and there’s not a cloud in sight. A slight breeze rushes by every once in a while, making up for the direct sunlight on my skin. I lean back on my palms, my face up towards the sky with my eyes closed, and think about all the things in my life that I wish were different.

  I wish I didn’t work at the travel agency, because I miss my students. I wish I didn’t close myself off from everyone, because being alone for too long is never good. I wish I had treated Marissa better during my grieving. I wish I had never started drinking. I wish Gordon was still alive.

  With Gordon alive, there would be no Evan, and something about that hurts. Sure, he may have still moved here, but I wouldn’t know him like I know him now, and I’m glad I know him. However, Gordon was my husband, and I want the life we had planned, but I can’t help but wonder if this was fate. Was I supposed to lose Gordon to find Evan? Or am I just lucky enough to possibly have another chance at love?

  “You are a vision.”

  I lift my head and slowly open my eyes. The sun shines brightly behind Evan’s figure, making him look angel-like.

  “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  He steps closer, allowing me a better look at his face, and reaches for my hand to pull me up.

  “Well, thank you,” he replies with a grin. “But, I think you have me beat.”

  He twirls me around, causing my dress to whip around my legs, and then puts his hands on my hips. He leans in, planting a small kiss on the corner of my mouth, his lips barely brushing mine. Our eyes meet, and he leans in once again, this time planting a solid kiss on my lips. When he pulls away, I let out a little noise in between a whimper and a moan.

  “Let’s go before I don’t want to anymore.”

  “Why wouldn’t you . . .” I start, but he squeezes my hip, and his eyes tell me the rest. “Oh.” I blush, getting the message.

  Evan makes sure to open the door to his truck for me, and I find his chivalry adorable. I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen a guy open up doors for his woman, and it’s definitely new to me. I give him a small smile and a quick thank you before I climb in.

  Two minutes into our drive, Evan turns down the radio and exhales loudly.

  “You said you wanted to know more about me.” It’s a statement, so I don’t bother saying anything, I only shift myself to be able to see him. “I appreciate everything you’ve told me about yourself and what you’re going through, and I know it’s only fair to be open and honest with you in return.”

  It feels like my heart is in my throat and I’ve stopped breathing. The seriousness in his tone kind of frightens me, like I may not enjoy what I’m about to hear. Evan may have some deep, dark secrets, and I can only make sure I’m as accepting and understanding as he’s been for me. I ready myself for what I’m about to hear.

  “I told you about my father. He had a drinking problem, and he had it for a long time. Jenn and I were kids when it started. At first, everything was pretty normal, but we were kids, so we weren’t aware of a whole lot. A few years later, when I was about thirteen, I heard my parents arguing. Mom was telling him he needed to stop drinking, and he was accusing her of cheating on him. I went to my room which was right next to theirs, and I heard a lot of banging and a loud crash noise. I knocked on their door and asked if everything was okay. My mom called out to me that everything was fine and to go back to bed.

  “For the next couple years, there weren’t any major issues. None that Jenn and I noticed, anyway. Dad stayed away from the house a lot, and my mom acted as if everything was okay. On my sixteenth birthday, all hell broke loose. That night, I had friends over, and we were playing video games and being loud. It pissed my dad off, and he told my mom to shut us up. She defended us, saying it was my birthday and we were just having fun. Well, that night, after everybody had gone home, she paid for it. There was more arguing in the room, and then more crashing and banging. This time, because I was older and knew this was because of me, I went in there. He had her shoved up against the wall, a small amount of blood was on the corner of her mouth, and her hair was so disheveled, it looked like he had been trying to rip it out.”

  He takes a deep breath, his anger over the situation still obvious. I reach over and squeeze his hand, comforting him just a little. This is a story I never expected to hear from him. My parents are assholes to me now, but they always treated each other pretty well. If they ever fought, I didn’t hear them. They were sure to shield me from any couple’s issues they may have had.

  “I rushed into the room and shoved him aside with one hard push. My mom was frantic, trying to get me out of the room, and I soon found out why. My father can throw a hit with a lot of force.”

  “Oh, Evan,” I whisper, imagining a young kid trying to protect his mom.

  “His one hit sent me to the ground, and while I was there he berated me. When I tried to get up, he shoved me back down with his foot. My mom tried pushing him away, but with one swoop of his arm, he sent her flying back into the wall. I was grateful that Jenn had left to spend the night at her friend’s house that night, but after showing his true colors to me, he didn’t seem to care to hide it anymore. The next several years while I lived under his roof, the abuse continued.

  “I told a teacher at school, but when CPS came, my mom denied everything. I was shocked and hurt, but she was terrified. She told me later that if my dad were to ever find out, it would be much worse. A couple months later, she told me that he was getting better and seeking help, but I didn’t believe it. He stopped hitting me, and instead chose to verbally abuse me, and give me a hard shove with his shoulder if we walked near each other. He had nasty words to say to Jenn, mostly about her growing u
p to be a slut like her mom, but he never raised a hand to her.

  “When I was eighteen, I moved out and went to college. Jenn told me she stayed away from the house as much as possible, but she was okay. Mom told me she was fine, and that Dad had went to rehab. It wasn’t until two years ago that he started drinking again. I’m not really sure if he ever even stopped or just cut down. I didn’t find out for a while, because by then Jenn was out of the house, too, and Mom was always trying to cover things up.”

  Evan pulls up to the market and throws the truck in park. Since we’re here a little early, we remove our seatbelts and face each other.

  “I lived a couple hours away, but decided to go home to visit my mom. When I saw her, she had a bruised cheekbone and bruising around her wrists. I flipped out, looking for my dad throughout the house, but she cried and said he wasn’t there. I asked her why she didn’t tell me that it had started again, but she just shook her head and said it wasn’t a child’s problem.”

  He shakes his head. “I tried telling her that she would always be my concern. She was my mom, and I wanted her to be safe. She deserved so much better than the life she had with him.

  “Dad never came home that night, or even the following day. She said that sometimes he disappeared, but she didn’t question him, because she was glad he wasn’t there. I pleaded with her to come home with me, or to call the cops on him. She said she’d call me in a few days with arrangements to visit me.”

  Evan’s tone drops, his voice almost a whisper and dripping with melancholy. My heart plunges into my stomach as I wait to hear what I’m almost sure is a terrible end to this story.

  He lifts his head, meeting my gaze, the hurt in his eyes is almost too painful to watch. “My father killed my mom. When they found her, they saw a half packed suitcase, so I can only assume he walked in on her packing, assumed she was leaving him, and went ballistic.”

  My hand goes up to my mouth, pressing against my lips in an effort to keep the sobs in. The tears at the back of my eyes burn, but I try to stay strong.

  “If I hadn’t told her to come with me . . .”

  “No, Evan. This is not your fault.”

  He shakes his head. “He went missing for a few days after he killed her. I’m not gonna lie to you, Phoenix. I was looking for him, and I guarantee if he hadn’t killed himself first, I would have done it.”

  My heart breaks for him; for the boy who was gypped out of a good childhood, and for the man who had his mother taken from him by senseless violence at the hand of the man who should’ve been protecting all of them. He’s been carrying around this guilt, and chose to move to get away from the bad memories, only to get here and deal with me and my problems.

  I throw my arms around his neck and sob. We grieve and mourn our losses together in the cab of his truck. I’m not sure how much time goes by before I pull myself away.

  “I’m so sorry, Evan. I’ve been so selfish thinking I’m the only one who’s had a tragedy happen to them, and you’ve been going through your own problems. You’ve been helping me, and you haven’t had anyone help you. God, I’m sorry.”

  He brushes the tears off my cheeks and lifts my chin until I meet his gaze. “You have been helping me, Phoenix. We’ve been helping each other.”

  Another sob breaks through as I drop my head and let the tears fall. “Evan,” I say in a broken whisper. “You deserve better than me. I’m broken. I’m only going to drown you in my darkness. I’m one of the first people you met here, and now I feel like I’m keeping you from trying to be happy again, and you deserve to be happy after everything you’ve been through.”

  “Phoenix, look at me,” he commands, lifting my chin with his fingers. “You are not a dark person, but even if you were, I’d climb into that darkness and pull you out. I’m here with you and I’m not going anywhere. You’re the Fire Phoenix, bright and ready to rise. You’re just still sitting in the ashes, but your wings are getting prepared to lift you up and then you’ll be living again.

  “I’ve met plenty of people in my life, even some here, and you’re the only one who’s reminded me what it’s like to be happy. I love being with you, and I’m not going to let you take that away from me because you think I deserve more. I’m a patient man, Phoenix, and I’m stubborn as all hell, so get used to me.”

  I let out a noise that’s a mix between a chuckle and a snort. My eyes are still wet with tears, but in true Evan fashion, he’s making me smile through the pain.

  “How are you so perfect?” I ask.

  This time it’s his turn to snort. “I’m not.”

  “Pretty close.”

  He gives me a crooked grin. “We’re real people with real problems. We didn’t get to decide the tragedies that happened to us, but what we do get to decide is what happens from here. How do we want our story to end? I know I don’t want either one of ours to end because we gave up. That’s not a good ending.”

  “No, it’s not. You’re right, giving up isn’t an option.”

  “So, what do we do?”

  With a pause, I look up at him and give him a small smile. “We live?”

  “Is that a question?” he asks with a smirk.

  “We live!” I shout before laughing.

  We laugh for a few seconds before his face turns serious. “We live.”

  I study his beautiful face before I find myself leaning into him. I crave his touch, and need to be wrapped in his warmth and strength. My lips find his like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I didn’t think about it. I didn’t overthink it. I just felt like doing it and so I did. The kiss starts out slow before increasing with fervor.

  His tongue caresses mine with sensual strokes, eliciting moans from me as I greedily pull him closer.

  A tap, tap, tap on the window breaks us apart. I quickly look over to his window and see Carol and Max standing there with matching grins.

  “Hey, kids,” Carol says.

  “Be out in a minute, guys,” I call out.

  “Take your time, kiddo,” Max says before leading Carol towards the entrance to the market.

  Evan turns and looks at me. “Busted.”

  “Like teenagers.”

  “Come on. Let’s go deal with Mom and Dad,” he says with a laugh.

  My heart swells and I lean in to give him a quick peck on the cheek before climbing out of his truck.

  MARISSA ENDS UP calling, letting us know she won’t be able to make it. Me and Evan meet up with Max and Carol, who surprisingly don’t mention the make out session they witnessed. There are tons of tables everywhere, each one of them offering something different. We find a row that have exotic food dishes and decide to try some out. Because there aren’t a lot of tables to sit down at, we choose to go with yakitori, which is some delicious Japanese-style skewered chicken.

  After about twenty minutes, Max and Carol break off, leaving me and Evan to our own devices. We stroll through each aisle, and I find some cool handmade jewelry pieces that I buy, and Evan finds a couple of graphic T-shirts. One of them says Stop staring at my jugs, with a photo of two milk jugs. I was the one who spotted it, and didn’t think for a second he’d actually buy it, but he said it’s funnier for a guy to wear that shirt than a girl, which is true.

  An hour later, we run into Max and Carol who are starting to look a little cozy together, and tell them we’re leaving.

  In the truck, Evan says, “So, you wanna go anywhere else?”

  “You haven’t adjusted to small town living yet, huh?” I say with a grin. “There’s not much to do. It’s Sunday and-” I glance at the neon clock in his truck, “it’s almost seven. Not much is gonna be open.”

  “Who says anything has to be open?”

  “Are you planning on breaking and entering? Because that’s against the law, in case you didn’t know.”

  He makes a face at me. “Oh, really? In LA it’s completely legal.”

  “Smartass.”

  He laughs. “Fine. I guess I’ll just take you
home.”

  I groan. “I do have to go to work tomorrow. Ugh.”

  “Not loving it over there?”

  “I miss my kids.”

  “Your kids?” he asks.

  “I was a teacher.”

  He looks at me with a touch of surprise before focusing on the road again. “Really?”

  “Yep. I had to take some time off, because I wasn’t dealing well with things, and my boss noticed, and the kids deserve a good teacher who’s focused on them.”

  “I bet you’re good with kids.”

  “Usually, but I became selfish, and when you’re selfish you’re not good with anybody.”

  He’s quiet for a moment. “Most people become that way after a loss. We deserve to take time for ourselves for a while, if not for anything but to figure out how to move on, or at the very least to find ourselves again. Don’t be hard on yourself, Phoenix. You’re not a bad person.”

  “Thanks, Evan.”

  “So, do you plan on going back to teaching at some point?”

  “Well, I don’t feel like I’m living my life to the fullest while working in that travel agency,” I say, making a face.

  “So, back to teaching it is,” he says with a grin. “I never had any hot teachers when I was in school.”

  I bark out a laugh. “I doubt my second graders think I’m hot.”

  He shrugs. “Well, Ms. Nightingale, I think you’re pretty hot, and you can teach me a few things if you’d like. You know, just to get back in the swing of things,” he says, throwing me a wink.

  “Oh, Evan. I think it’s you who can teach me a few things.”

  After the words leave my mouth, I realize how sexual that came across, and how husky my voice has become.

  He turns and lifts a brow at me. “Oh yeah? I’ll play the teacher all day if you want to play the school girl.”

  I clear my throat and try not to let my voice quiver. “We’ll see.”

  Evan just smiles and pulls into my driveway. Coming around the front of the truck, he opens my door and helps me out. He holds my hand on the walk to my front door, and I enjoy it so much that I don’t want to let go when it comes time to find my keys and unlock the door.