So Screwed

by Melissa Marino

  What could I say? I was a dick. I knew I was. I’d been nothing short of a deranged nymphomaniac from my teen years until recently. The girls standing in front of me were examples of that. It was no wonder that when the karma bus hit me with the Evelyn thing it shook loose all of the regret, all of the humanity I should’ve had. You don’t know how bad it was going to hurt someone else until you felt the same hurt.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know it doesn’t make a lick of difference now, and it took me a while to get to realize what an immature shit I was. So, I’m sorry for the formal and sister thing and probably several other things.”

  For the second time in less than an hour, I walked away. I didn’t need to see the looks on their faces or stand there for another beatdown. There was enough of it inside of me to do damage and it almost totaled me. There was no way to make up for the past. I could only move forward.

  And I did. I went right out the door without coffee and graded papers. I stayed hidden undercover in my car until I saw the girls leave with their Frappuccinos almost an hour later. No doubt they needed that amount of time to get their rage out over me and the excessive jizzer who had obviously fucked up as well. They were laughing again, but then I noticed one of them fling my cardigan over their shoulder.

  “Damn it,” I yelled, slamming my fists against the steering wheel. “It was my favorite.”

  Karma bus hit me right into my wardrobe.

  With a few minutes to spare, I darted back across the street, got my coffee sans run-in with ex-lovers or being propositioned and walked the three blocks to my meeting.

  I entered the church; a lingering smell of incense and confessed sins came at me from every direction. Panic began to buzz through me, but as I descended the steps to the basement, I reminded myself I always left feeling better than when I arrived.

  The cracked tile floor paved the way down a long dimly lit hallway. Every time I made the walk, I considered all the times I spent in other basements. A lot of the people had to, too. Maybe there wasn’t a safe place for any of us, but hell, a candy shop smelling of chocolate and licorice would’ve been nice. Or even a bread factory. Who couldn’t chill and want to get healed surrounded by freshly baked goods?

  Outside the door, I heard the low voices of conversation happening inside. I both hated it and needed it. Sometimes the things you need the most take time, and you have to go through a shitstorm of emotion to get to it. I had to believe it was all worth it in the end. As I pushed the door open, a sign reading GA MEETING hanging above it, I knew I’d be okay.

  * * *

  Standing in front of a cracked, smudged mirror was doing nothing for my self-confidence. Neither was the fourth shirt I’d tried on.

  “Shit,” I said, unbuttoning it before throwing it to the floor with the others.

  Another thing that wasn’t helping my self-confidence was the fact I was turning into a girl by going through everything in my closet, wondering what Evelyn would like me best in. There wasn’t so much a concern over looking attractive, but I wanted her to notice me. I dug through a laundry basket of clean, wrinkled clothes before retrieving a geometric blue button-down. After a quick sniff, because sometimes clean and dirty got mixed together, I put it on.

  Hell, I wasn’t even sure if she was going to be there. I’d been laying so low, but this was for Delilah. Unless she was still hell-bent on not seeing me, I didn’t think there was any way she’d miss it. I stepped back in front of the mirror and knew it was the best I was going to get. The drive over to their house rivaled first day of school nerves. I didn’t know what to expect or how I’d be received. As walked to the front door, the big manila envelope in one hand, and a gift for Delilah in the other, I knew no matter what, I was going to be okay.

  I poked my head in the front door, and being fashionably late had its privileges. Judging by the noise level, the party was already in full swing, and when I stepped in, closing the door behind me, there was no turning back. The walk down the hallway was different than any other time I’d walked it before, but when Callie stepped across the foyer stopping me, I realized I was wrong. Things were still very much the same.

  “Hey you,” she said, opening her arms. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  I wrapped my arms around her, feeling comforted by her warm welcome. “Thanks for inviting me.”

  “Oh, pfft. This is practically your home, too. You need no inviting,” she said, stepping back and looking me over. “Can I take that?”

  “Here,” I said, handing over Delilah’s gift. “This is for the birthday girl. I’ll just hold on to this other thing.”

  “Okay. Well, I’m going to put these with the others and be right back. Aaron is up on the roof with your parents if you want to say hello.”

  I nodded as she hurried off. No mention of Evelyn. I glanced around at the guests in the living room, and there were a lot of familiar faces, but not the one I was looking for. Taking Callie’s advice, I headed up the staircase and down the hallway to the door that led to the rooftop. While usually password protected to keep Delilah away, the door was propped open for the guests to come and go as they pleased.

  The sun was warm for May. We were owed an early summer after the hellishly cold winter we’d been through. A soft breeze coming off the lake blew table covers up and down and made the scattering of balloons attached to the tables sway.

  I looked around again, and then stopped because there she was. Her long blond hair danced in the wind, and the tight white dress she was wearing made her look beautiful.

  Beautiful. My Beautiful.

  I didn’t know she was going to be here, but I knew in my bones she would be. Wasn’t it fucked up how that worked? It still scared the shit out of me.

  She was talking to my parents, engaged and pleasantly nodding. As her eye caught on me out of her peripheral vision, her head turned. It wasn’t instant or certain at first, but a small smile lifted from her lips.

  Those lips. The same red. The same thoughts. They on me, marking me and loving me. I shifted my weight with a subtle leg adjustment to account for the hardness happening in my pants.

  Yup. All still in working order and obviously coming at full attention the moment I was within a thirty-foot radius.

  I inhaled deeply because I was ready for this. It could’ve all been a disaster, but I was ready.

  Dodging little girls in feathered boas and their wine-sipping parents, I crossed the roof to reach her.

  “Hi Mom and Dad,” I said, leaning over to kiss my mom on the cheek. I patted my dad on the shoulder at the same time with him returning the gesture.

  “Son,” he said. “We were just catching up with Evelyn.”

  “I can see that,” I said, smiling. “How is that going?”

  “Lovely as always,” Mom said. “Daniel, I think Callie can use us to help with the food. Could you excuse us?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “Nice to see you,” Evelyn called to them as they walked away.

  “But seriously,” I said when they were out of earshot. “How did that go?”

  “The same as ever. Your mom being as sweet as sugar and your dad being your dad.”

  I laughed because some things never changed.

  I took in a deep breath, unsure of how much I was going to get out of her. “How’ve you been?”

  She took a sip from her cup and nodded. “Good. Busy. Wedding season and all. Bridget has me running my own now, so it’s been crazy.”

  “Really? That’s great.”

  It really was. She worked hard and fucking deserved everything she wanted.

  “How about you?” she asked.

  “Um, the same,” I said. “Busy. School will be wrapping up soon, but I’m doing this summer school program. I may have to ditch WET soon because there’s only so much time in the day.”

  She nodded again and took another sip. It was awkward, but then it wasn’t. I knew her every expression. I knew she was afraid of spiders, but wasn’t af
raid of petting a snake. I knew when she laughed really hard, she snorted, and when she slept, she’d tuck her left hand under her head.

  I knew all these things about her. I was sure she knew just as many about me. How could it be awkward when you loved someone?

  “Well,” I said slowly. “I’m glad you’re here because I wanted to give this to you.”

  I handed her the envelope, and she took it in her free hand, her wrist bending against the weight of it. “Oh, wow. What is it?”

  “It’s my finished manuscript.”

  Her eyes grew wide as her mouth gaped open. “What?”

  “I finished my book.”

  “Abel,” she said, cradling the envelope next to her chest. “That’s amazing.”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure how good it is, but I wanted you to have it. No one else does.”

  Her head tilted to the side in confusion. “Why?”

  “Because you made me want to write every single word.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  EVELYN—

  I didn’t know if I was ready. I told him I needed time, and he had given me that. It was the time I needed to readjust my thoughts and consider all that had happened. There wasn’t a magic spell to make all the bad go away, and perhaps it was foolish, but every day that passed, anger subsided and understanding moved in.

  He gave me my space, but I knew he was there. I knew he was thinking of me. I knew because every week there was a different reminder that was delivered to me.

  The first was a large black coffee and bottle of Russell’s Reserve Single Barrel Bourbon I found left on my desk after getting back from lunch. I thought it was from Bridget, but the card attached read:

  Beautiful,

  In case you get thirsty while I give you time.

  Abel

  The next was a burger from Kuma’s and a Sprinkles cupcake left outside the door of my apartment.

  Beautiful,

  In case you get hungry while I give you time.

  Abel

  The box the burger was in was still warm. The cupcake, chocolate peanut butter, was my favorite.

  Beautiful,

  In case you need something to look at while I give you time.

  Abel

  A large funeral arrangement, one similar to the spray that was accidently sent me months ago from him, found its way to By Invitation Only once again. Bridget didn’t even get angry about it or make me throw it away.

  Other deliveries followed at regular intervals. A Dolly Parton movie for when I needed to watch something, and new running shoes for when I needed to go for a run.

  He knew me. He was reminding me, and little by little, I was letting him.

  I didn’t know if he’d be at Delilah’s party, but I’d sensed in my bones he would be. When he appeared on the rooftop, in a blue button-down shirt and dark jeans, it was like seeing him again for the first time. His body had filled in again, leading me to believe he was hitting the gym, and his beard was nearing original status. It was all him, but it didn’t seem real until I saw him smile. The dimples. I had no idea when the last time was I saw them, but it was a relief when I did.

  I still didn’t know if I was ready, but as I sat at my kitchen table with the envelope containing his manuscript in front of me, I decided to be ready. I flipped the top open and slowly pulled out the large stack of pages. A Post-it was stuck to the first page. In his familiar writing, it read:

  Something for you to read while you think.

  I love you.

  I promise.

  Abel

  The title page read In This Life by Abel Matthews. I turned the page over and placed it facedown on the table. My eyes scanned across the second page, but they immediately blurred when I read the words:

  To my Beautiful:

  “In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

  It was a Mr. Darcy quote, and it was for me. I patted my hand to my chest to calm the rapid beating before turning the next page.

  And then the next.

  And the next.

  And the next.

  I didn’t leave the table for hours, poring over every one of his exquisite words and beautifully imagined story. The book centered around a nineteen-year-old man working as the groundskeeper at a cemetery adjacent to a convent. A young nun befriends him, but when a romantic relationship blossoms, they must choose what the morally right thing to do is versus what their hearts are telling them. The story spanned several years with glimpses into the small Vermont town they both lived in. It was heartbreaking and hopeful, a tragedy and a blessing. My tears stained the final pages not only from the moving story, but also because I knew Abel had written them.

  His talent was intertwined with his passion, and he had found it. People lived their entire lives without finding one or the other, but he found both. Pride overtook me, but I still wasn’t ready. As I piled the pages back into a neat stack and placed them in the envelope, I knew I was getting closer, but still not there yet.

  I wanted to run to him, kiss his lips, and tell him he was brilliant. I wanted to tell him I loved him and that the light in him I fell in love with shined on every single page of his book. I wanted to tell him I wasn’t sure I could ever forgive him or if we could ever be the same as we were before. I wanted to tell him my desire to have him in my life greatly exceeded any desire for him not to be.

  I wanted to tell him. I was certain I would, but I wasn’t there yet.

  * * *

  “You want half of this?” Callie said, holding a chocolate-covered pretzel stick out to me.

  “Sure.”

  I took the tissue-covered end, leaving her to deal with chocolate fingers. We nibbled on our pretzels as we strolled around the outdoor Maxwell Street Market. Antiques and old treasures lined rows and rows of shelves. Callie and I had been going to the market for years, mostly to browse and sometimes to buy. It was nice to be together, walking and talking, since the last time I saw her was weeks ago at Delilah’s birthday party.

  “Did I tell you we’re taking Delilah to Disney World?” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “No, you didn’t, and what’s with the look?”

  “I think it’s all kinds of ridiculous. It’s so expensive and so crowded, and you have to plan for everything. Frankly, I don’t know who’s more excited, Delilah or Aaron.”

  I tossed my pretzel in the trash and looked at a table of vintage purses. “I think it sounds sweet. It’s your first family vacation.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to be bratty about it, but I think a relaxing beach vacation is more my speed these days.”

  “You feeling old, Cal?”

  “No, but I am surrounded by children all day so forgive me if I’m burnt out a little.”

  “Well, then why don’t you start dropping some hints to the hunky man about a little getaway, just the two of you.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Maybe.”

  “It’ll be good for you two. It can even be a long weekend, and I’ll watch Delilah.”

  “You would?”

  “Yes. Is it so hard to believe I could take care of her?”

  She stepped down a row of used books, leaning over to look at the titles. “No, it’s not, but I’m just surprised.” She stood back up, tossing her auburn hair over her shoulders. “And it’s very much appreciated.”

  I winked at her and scooted in next to her to scan the books. Some of the titles on the spines were completely worn away, making it impossible to see the titles without going through each of them. I loved old books, though. The smell, the worn pages, and the mystery surrounding how many people had read it before you. I had almost gone through them all when a particular one caught my eye.

  It was the gold lettering that gave it away.

  I sunk to my knees on the ground, carefully removing the other books on top of it. It was blue. I had thought it was, but mine wa
s so much more dated.

  It was the exact copy of the same Pride and Prejudice Abel had given me for my birthday. What the hell were the chances?

  “Did you find something?” Callie called from a few tables over.

  “Uh-huh,” I mumbled, carefully opening the cover.

  On the title page, written in blue pen, in beautiful cursive was:

  To my Handsome

  Love,

  Your Beautiful

  Oh my God.

  “What?” Callie said, coming up behind me.

  My hand covered my mouth as I lifted the book to her.

  “Is this like yours?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Open it,” I cried.

  “Oh my God,” she shouted. “Are you kidding me?”

  “What the hell? How?”

  She shook her head and looked down at it again. “I have no idea, but there was, or maybe even still is, another couple who call each other Beautiful and Handsome who had the same exact book as the one Abel gave you.”

  I knew what she was going to say before she said it. I almost beat her to it, but she was too fast.

  “Do you know what this is?” Callie asked.

  “Yes,” I said, taking the book from her and heading to cashier. “It’s serendipity.”

  * * *

  Serendipity was all it took to be ready. I didn’t believe it or think it even existed, but when it stares you right in the face, in black and white, there was no denying it.

  It was why I was standing in front of a building that looked like it should be condemned. Callie confirmed with me several times this was the place. The cement stairs to the second floor were crumbling and clearly a housing violation. Plus, the smell of cooking oil wafting up from the Chinese restaurant next door made the entire building smell of takeout.

  I balanced all the things in my hand when I knocked on his door marked Number 4. I hadn’t considered if he’d be alone or what it would mean if he’d truly moved on. Maybe I was too late.

  “Holy shit,” he said from the opposite side of the door. “Hold on. I need to get some pants on.”