Hell and a Hard Place

Home > Romance > Hell and a Hard Place > Page 8
Hell and a Hard Place Page 8

by Lindsay Paige


  I stand as she runs around to get her purse and keys. Soon, we’re on our way as she drives us to the fair. “Did everything go okay with your grandpa that day?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “Yes.”

  “That doesn’t really match that shrug you just gave me.”

  “Well, we talked about you.”

  “Me?” I parrot with surprise. “Why would he want to talk about me?”

  Idaline shrugs. “He doesn’t think I should let you come over. There’s no such thing as just friends between guys and girls for him, and considering you have a girlfriend and I now have a boyfriend, he thinks you’re a recipe for disaster.”

  Huh. For me, he’s absolutely right, but I can behave, especially since for the foreseeable future, I can’t be with Idaline. I’m not sure what Idaline thinks about this. Does she agree with her grandfather? She certainly responded to the kiss, but anyone can kiss a guy back. “How come you let me come back if he doesn’t think you should?” I ask.

  She briefly glances over at me. “You needed a supportive friend. That matters more than what he thinks.”

  I don’t know if I should feel victorious or not. We arrive at the fair and I don’t have to think about it. Her phone goes off with a beep. “Sorry. It’s Justin, checking in on us.” While she texts him back, I guide her with a hand on her mid-back as we walk. It pisses me off a little that he’s checking in. He hasn’t long left her and if he didn’t stay so she can be a friend to me, then why the fuck is he going to bother us? Idaline gives me an apologetic smile once she tucks her phone away. It’s tempting to mention something about how maybe he’s the jealous type, but after the last boyfriend, I don’t think Idaline would get herself into another situation like that.

  Idaline takes a deep breath as we walk past the entrance. “I love this.”

  She really does. There’s no telling how many times she’s told me about how she was going to a fair over the years. It doesn’t matter what the fair is for, she’s there. She loves the atmosphere, the vendors, and the games.

  She stops by one booth where baseballs are thrown in order to win a prize. “Okay, FC, my former baseball pitcher, win me that monkey.” She points to the ugliest stuffed animal I’ve ever seen. It’s blue and hairy all over with an extra fluff of hair on his head. His face, though, is what makes him ugly. He’s already missing an eye and his smile is lopsided and creepy.

  “I haven’t thrown a ball in years, Idaline,” I say even as I pull money out of my wallet.

  “It’s like riding a bike. You can do it. I have complete faith in you.”

  Before I let the man take my money, I ask, “What do I have to do to win the ugly monkey?” Idaline slaps my arm at calling her prize ugly, but I groan because he tells me I have to win three times in a row to win it. Idaline gives me another word of encouragement as I roll my shoulders to loosen up. Hopefully, she’s right and this is just like riding a bike.

  With a quick breath, I make my first throw and hit the target exactly like I should. Idaline squeals with excitement, clutching the back of my shirt. I grab another ball and move on to the next target. One down, two to go. I surprise myself by hitting the targets each time, winning her the ugly monkey.

  “Thanks, FC. You know I’m terrible at these games. You’d think I’d get better after all these years, but I don’t.”

  “You’re welcome. Where to next?”

  She leads me to a ring toss, in hopes that I can win her a fish. “You know,” she begins quietly, “maybe you should take up running or exercising.”

  I glance at her in confusion in between my tosses. “Why?”

  “You told me you smoked because of what it did for you. I’m assuming it gave you like a release. Maybe you should find something else, like exercising, that will help you find a healthier release to keep you from returning to your bad habits. You could attend meetings, too.”

  No. Way. In. Hell. My grimace is answer enough as the lady comes over and hands a bag with a fish in it to Idaline, but unfortunately, she’s more focused on me right now. I place my hand on her lower back and lead her away from this game. “No, Idaline. I’m not spilling my guts about my problems to a room full of people. That won’t help me.”

  “It might,” she tries.

  “No,” I snap.

  She doesn’t even flinch or seem hurt about my sudden influx of anger toward her. “What about a private counselor?”

  I’m sure that will help me get custody of my kid. As soon as I think it, I dismiss it. Counseling does good things for people who want it and it might actually help me because I did reach out for help. If it does help, then I can prove that, too. I’m sure a counselor could help me with much more than my drinking problems, too. Idaline watches me with such hopeful eyes. She only wants to help. She only wants what’s best for me. I rest an arm over her shoulders. “Maybe,” I finally answer her. I want to talk it over with my parents to make sure I’m making the right decision and I need to make sure I can hide these appointments from Lila.

  Idaline beams a smile at me. “I can accept a maybe.” She looks down at her fish. “His name is Mr. Fish. You should say hello.” She holds the bag up for me to see what I think is a betta fish. What happened to plain old goldfish?

  “Hello,” I say to appease her. “How do you know it’s a mister?”

  She shrugs. “Because I say so. Come on. We need cotton candy.” When I sigh as she drags me along, she says, “I know, FC. You hate cotton candy, but I’m sure there will be something there that you do like.”

  She gets cotton candy, and because I haven’t had supper, she talks me into a burger and a funnel cake. Her stupid boyfriend texts her again and she’s all too happy to give him another update on our outing.

  “We’ll have to go to the store for supplies and a home for Mr. Fish when we leave,” she says while we sit and eat.

  “Why couldn’t you come up with a better name than Mr. Fish?” I ask.

  “Says the man who won’t even tell me his own name.” She looks horrified for a second. “Does Lila know? I’ll kill you if she knows and I don’t.”

  I laugh. “She doesn’t know.” Although she will if she ever looks at our baby’s future birth certificate.

  Idaline points at me with her cotton candy. “Girlfriend or not, I’ve known you way longer, and I deserve to know before her. Don’t make me be sneaky and find out.”

  “How would you find out?”

  “I’m sure I can crawl through online birth records until I find all the Hart babies born in Wake County whose first names start with F and middle names starts with C.”

  My muscles tense a bit. She has definitely thought about this before. “Do you already know my name, Idaline?”

  She shakes her head. “No. I have more fun guessing, but I’ve been more than tempted a few times to look it up. I’d much rather guess or have you tell me.”

  I relax, realizing that’s exactly how I’d prefer her to find out as well. It’s not that big of a deal, but we’ve been at it for twelve years with her trying to correctly guess my name. She’s never come close. Since I haven’t talked to her much, I decide I really need to check in on her. I force myself to ask about the last thing I want to think about. “How’s it going with Justin?”

  Fuck me, she smiles immediately. “Really good,” she says. “He’s like this calming, but fun presence in my life. And yes, my head is okay. Mostly. I’m still having nightmares.”

  “Nightmares?” I interrupt. She hasn’t said anything to me about nightmares.

  Her hand reaches up to her neck and I immediately know what her nightmares are about. “I thought I told you,” she says with a frown. “Nightmares about Daniel.” Her eyes stray and she tenses until I’m not even sure she’s breathing anymore. “Can we go?” she spurts out. “We should get Mr. Fish settled.” Not once does she look at me.

  I glance over my shoulder, but I only see lots of people. “What’s wrong?” I ask her.

  “I don’t want to be
here anymore.” Idaline stands without waiting on me. I hurry to grab our trash, toss it, and run after her. Tears now run down her cheeks. I don’t understand what just happened. She hurries to open her car door and gently sets Mr. Fish down while opening the back door to throw in her monkey.

  I grab her shoulders and pull her shaking body into my arms. “What’s the matter, Idaline?” I whisper in her ear.

  Her voice cracks as she replies, “I don’t know. Panic just swept over me and I felt like I was being closed in.”

  “All right. Well, now we’re away from all the people and you can take deep, relaxing breaths.” My hand glides up to cup the back of her neck. I can feel her pulse thumping like the beat of a drum beneath my thumb. Her breaths are unsteady and erratic against my chest. All I can do is hold her as tight as I can until her mind and body realize she’s not in any danger, that there’s no reason to panic. “Almost there,” I reassure when her breathing matches mine. It’s just her heart that’s still going nuts at this point.

  “Close enough,” she says. “Will you drive us to the store? I can give directions.”

  “Of course.”

  She gets into the passenger seat and gently holds the bag containing Mr. Fish in her hands while I maneuver us out of the parking lot. Nothing about tonight, even when I was back in North Carolina, has gone as planned, but I can’t say I’m going to complain about it tomorrow.

  Justin: Everything going okay?

  In response, I first send him a picture of my monkey sitting behind Mr. Fish, who is all settled in his new fish tank. Then, I send another text.

  Me: Going good. Had a good time at the fair. So excited to go back with you. Mr. Fish would like a companion.

  I walk back into the living room to find FC fast asleep with his head resting on the back of the couch. I sit next to him just as a text from Justin comes in.

  Justin: We will find Mr. Fish a Mrs. Fish. What are y’all doing now?

  Me: FC fell asleep, so I’m talking to you and watching TV.

  We text for a while. FC makes the world stop turning when he leans over and ever so slowly rests his head on my shoulder. It’s as if his body wants to keep tilting because withing two minutes, he manages to slide down my chest until his head is in my lap. I don’t even know how he’s breathing right now. His face is buried midway between my thighs. He takes a deep breath and sighs, like he’s finally comfortable.

  His hair looks desperate for my fingers to run through it. I curl my hands into fists to stop myself. That would cross a friendship line, right? To twirl strands of hair between my fingers. To run my hand through his hair. I can’t do it.

  Nope.

  No can do.

  Yet my trembling hand reaches out and curls into his hair. Gah, it’s so soft. I freeze when FC turns his head and body toward the TV, but he doesn’t appear to wake up. I wait a minute before playing with his hair once again. It’s like my fingers have found their happy place and they never want to leave. His hair is that soft.

  Some time later, FC scares me half to death by mumbling, “Idaline, are you playing with my hair?”

  My fingers freeze in his hair, but I calmly reply, “No.”

  He hums, but I can’t tell if that means he believes me or not.

  Ever so slowly, I remove my hand. “FC?” He grunts. “You’re in my lap.”

  He jerks upright. “Sorry. Didn’t realize it. Guess I should make my bed.” He runs a hand through his hair. Hair that I now know exactly what it feels like. I’m turning into a crazy woman. There’s no way around it. “Idaline?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you want to say goodbye now? I have to head out around four thirty to be to work on time.”

  That’s the sensible thing to do, but I find myself shaking my head. “Wake me up.”

  FC doesn’t question my decision. He only nods. We both stand, him to go to the bathroom to get ready for bed and me to gather a pillow and sheets. What I don’t do is think about the last time FC and I said good night. I make his bed with an empty mind.

  “Thanks for letting me crash here, Idaline,” FC says in a soft voice.

  I glance up as I place his pillow on the couch. “You can stay any time you need a place to go. I’ll always be here for you.”

  He smiles and it feels like the first smile I’ve seen from him today. We walk past one another to switch places, say goodnight, and I head to bed as well. That was a success. No too-long hug. No kissing. Just a friendly goodnight between friends.

  But unfortunately, I toss and turn all night. It feels like there are four voices in my head, all of them talking at once. Well, that’s a lie. One of them is singing a song we heard on the radio on the way home that I apparently can’t get out of my head. The other three are talking over one another.

  Voice A keeps going on and on about FC. Is he comfortable in there? Maybe he’d like another pillow. It might be too warm or too cold for him. The couch might be too short. Maybe we should switch places. Or I could invite him in here. On and on and on.

  Voice B worries about my job. What if one day my anxiety and depression take over so much that they fire me? Or I hurt a patient because I’m not on my game? What if I’m late tomorrow? I already want to call in sick, but that’s not right or fair.

  Voice C? It’s all nonsense. I wonder what kind of bird it is that’s always outside my window chirping in the mornings. Do I see my therapist on a Wednesday or a Thursday? I wonder if my fish really is a mister. I need to wash my sheets soon. Maybe Justin will sleep over after our date tomorrow. Is it weird that I’ve yet to visit his place? I think it is.

  Now, compile all those sentences on top of one another and that’s my brain right now. That’s my brain until about three in the morning when exhaustion finally shuts it down and I can fall into a heavy sleep.

  And what feels like two seconds later, FC shakes my shoulder to wake me up. I groan. It’s too soon. Way too soon.

  “I came to say goodbye, as requested,” he tells me in a soft voice.

  I sit up and hold my arms out. He bends down and embraces me, allowing my arms to fold around his neck. “Tell me a secret before you go.” My yawn makes it sound more like a question.

  For a few heartbeats, we hold each other in silence. I feel his neck move as he swallows. “Out of all the people I know, all the people I’ve met, you’re the only one I can never live without.” Just like that, the air in my lungs evaporates, even as FC tries to ease the effect of the bomb he just dropped. “That means you’ll forever be stuck with me,” he adds with a chuckle.

  His arms pull away from mine, which unfortunately means I have to do the same. “Go back to sleep. We’ll talk soon.” I nod and lie back down. FC pulls my covers up to my shoulders. My heart combusts when he leans down and kisses my cheek. “Bye, Idaline.”

  “Bye,” I manage to squeak.

  He flashes a smile and heads out the door, saying a goodbye to Mr. Fish as well. My fingers reach up to touch the magical place his lips met my cheek. I swear, my skin tingles. There’s no way I can go back to sleep now.

  That makes my day so freaking long. Twelve-hour shifts feel like twenty-four hours when you’re running on an hour of sleep. Praise the coffee beans for providing delicious coffee to keep me going. Unfortunately, a crazy shift and a restless night means I’m in no mood for a date with Justin. I waste no time calling him when I leave work.

  “Don’t tell me he’s back,” Justin answers.

  I laugh. “He’s not.”

  “Good,” he replies curtly.

  “But I do have semi-bad news.”

  Justin groans. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”

  My cheeks warm at hearing him call me sweetheart. “I’m exhausted. Work was long and hard and well, work. But I only got about an hour of sleep last night because I just couldn’t sleep. Can we spend the night in and go to the fair tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, of course. You know what? Come to my house. I think I have just the trick for you to relax.
Bring a bathing suit. I’ll text you my address.”

  I want to question the bathing suit part, but decide not to. After a stop at home to feed Mr. Fish, shower, and to pack a bag, I drive to Justin’s. His apartment complex is way nicer than mine. I can only imagine that his apartment will look the same. My smile widens when I spot Justin waiting on the sidewalk. He walks over as I get out of the car and grabs my bag.

  His arms loop around my waist and he kisses me softly. “I’m glad to have you all to myself for a night.”

  “I’m looking forward to it too.”

  We head up to his apartment. “I already have dinner ready,” he says. “I figured since you had a bad day, I better whip something up real quick.”

  “Thank you.” I sneak in a quick kiss before he can open the door.

  After getting settled in his apartment, which is just as nice as I thought it would be, we sit down at his table to eat spaghetti. That’s apparently when Justin wants to grill me about my time with FC in a roundabout way. I don’t know how much more he could want to know. He texted me pretty often while we were out.

  “So, did you have fun winning Mr. Fish and that monkey?” he asks.

  “FC won them for me. I suck at those games and he used to be a pitcher in high school, so I definitely took advantage of that to get the monkey. I had my favorite cotton candy, too, and I stole some of FC’s funnel cake when he wasn’t paying attention.” That was before our night went downhill, though. I still can’t get rid of that feeling of being on edge either.

  “You’re really comfortable with someone you’ve only met three times now,” he comments.

  I shrug. “I’ve known him for so long, though. How has your day been?”

  “Good. I’m seeing you, so I won’t complain.” Justin smiles.

  We talk while we eat and then Justin leaves to change into his swim trunks. All I have to do is take my outer layer of clothes off because I went ahead and put on my bathing suit before I left the house. Justin returns, holding two towels, and he grabs his keys. He holds out his hand. I take it and then he’s leading me out of his apartment building.

 

‹ Prev