Deuce of Hearts

by Lyssa Layne

Elliot didn’t want to admit to his friend he was looking for golden blonde hair like the rays of the sun, accompanied by emerald green eyes, and purple feather earrings, everywhere he looked. His friend had seen him weak, at his lowest, but he didn’t want to look like a totally heart sick puppy dog over some chick he’d dreamed about. Even though the dream had been different, the resulting drawing clear as day.

  They circled the mall repeatedly, not seeing a likely mark, until a lady drew their attention. She was yelling at her child, a seven or eight year old, trying to push the stroller with her younger sibling in it. The mother was getting on to her for pushing the stroller wheels over her toes, something the small child couldn’t even see, much less control.

  “I told you to push the stroller, not make minced meat of my feet. Get a grip, child. There is no way you can think that’s acceptable behavior.” Surely the woman was a baby sitter or a nanny, but going by the expensive purse on her shoulder and the shoes she was eyeballing in the store window, the woman had money to spare.

  And her wallet was hanging out of said purse. Easy pickings.

  “Excuse me ma’am. Do you know where the restrooms are?” Elliot was putting on the innocent face while Logan picked her wallet out of her purse, putting his finger to his lips when the child looked up at him. Then he took off, jogging to their meeting spot by the dumpsters behind the mall. After getting directions the opposite way, Elliot took off where she told him to go, then ducked out of an exit to meet his buddy.

  “We got bus fare now. How about we hit up a college town? It’s the end of a semester. They throw away all sorts of shit then.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Although the golden haired, emerald-eyed girl was probably here, not there. Not that she would want a homeless punk for a boyfriend. Not that he could handle a girlfriend. Not that they could fit together anyway. Elliot tried in vain to put the girl out of his mind.

  **

  The first year after her birthday, London had gone back to the carnival, with her boyfriend, Colt. She’d felt incredibly stupid when she couldn’t find the tent. In the place she thought it had been was an old, dilapidated storage shed, with rust stains crawling up the sides. A man banged around inside, and she couldn’t help but ask where the fortune-teller’s tent was.

  “Insanely pretty red hair? She tinkled when she walked?” He came up at her last words, from behind the old lawnmower he was working on, the entire tableau odd feeling for the middle of the city. But she was determined to find answers.

  “Girly, you’re describing my mama, and she’s been dead longer than you’ve been alive, so just git. This ain’t funny.” His words, along with the look in his eyes, chased her off.

  Colt didn’t last long, not that she’d expected him to. She hadn’t met him on June twenty-third, but he was on the track team. He ran the fastest two-hundred yard dash in school. He didn’t dream of much though, so she hadn’t been surprised.

  By the time she was twenty-one, she’d established a routine with Tanner. They would both go out on June 23rd, just to see if London could pick up any prospects. She was in pre-law at UT, and picking up guys wasn’t hard, but picking up the right guy was absolutely impossible.

  Tanner never failed to pick up anybody, relishing college in a way only boys could. London, on the other hand, couldn’t get into the spirit of free love the way Tanner appeared to.

  When she was twenty-four, a guy at the new bar they were trying out slipped a roofie into her drink, and Tanner was the only reason she made it out of that escapade unscathed. After that, they started going to a nicer bar, closer to where London’s parents had chosen her apartment for college. She had liked the location so much, she stayed there, even when Tarlton Law Library wasn’t super close anymore.

  When she was twenty-seven, Tanner—her oldest friend in the world—offered to be her June 23rd.

  “Look, London. I have a job now, a decent one, with benefits and a future and stuff, and you’re my best friend. It only makes sense we should do this. My dad is amazed we haven’t fucked yet, after all the time we’ve been friends.”

  London wanted to laugh at him, except she could see exactly how serious he was. His eyes looked into her the way nobody else’s ever had. So she looked back.

  And she tried. She really did.

  London remembered all the times Tanner had been there for her, picking up the pieces on June twenty-fourth, after she hadn’t met the one. She remembered all his laughs and jibes, as he made fun of her idealism as she prepared for the upcoming June twenty-third—putting on her pendant in an effort to reclaim some of the fortune teller’s magic. She felt all his friendly hugs, all the kisses on the top of her head.

  And she felt nothing but affection for him. But she had to handle this carefully, because he was her best friend, and she would be devastated if she lost him.

  “Tanner, I love you.” She watched his face harden. “But I don’t think you’re in love with me. Not really. We’re the best of friends, and nothing can change that. I cherish our friendship and I don’t want to do anything to wreck that.”

  He’d left then, and it had taken a couple of weeks for him to call her back and agree with her, even begrudgingly. Those weeks had been hell for London, honestly.

  The following June twenty-third, their twosome had become a threesome, as London had gotten a job and invited her Administrative Assistant to their outings. It took another two years to explain to her why the date was so special.

  It wasn’t that London didn’t date other nights of the year, but she just didn’t hold much hope for those guys. And there was really no reason to. Like every other woman, London believed there would be a spark of something special when she met the man she would be with the rest of her life. And that never happened.

  **

  Elliot went back home one more time. Some part of his mind was hopeful to see that girl there, the one of his dreams that he kept drawing. But the biggest part was confronting his dad. He’d been touching Sarah in ways that were disgusting and inappropriate. Elliot had only found out because Sarah was the only person he’d stayed in touch with when he left.

  Her current boyfriend had told him. It was enough to put Elliot on the first bus back home, sans shower, because all he cared about was letting dear old dad know how he felt about things.

  And that hadn’t gone over well at all. After the disastrous reunion that left him in a cast almost as big as the one he’d left with originally, Elliot caught back up with Logan in Pamona Gulch, but they soon moved on to Santa Fe, as their charity hospital was the closest place Elliot could get the cast taken off his thigh.

  Good times.

  When they were twenty-three, Elliot finally asked Logan when he was going to be tired of being homeless.

  “Man, I thought you’d never ask.” The bigger guy had admitted.

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Because I thought this was something you needed, or some shit, man.” Logan actually blushed, or that’s what it looked like, at least.

  That night, they didn’t even try to get a shelter. Besides, it had gotten tougher, the older they looked. They would be passed over for chick with kids every time, and neither one of them felt bad about that. They figured the kids needed beds more than they did.

  Besides, what sort of shitty situation would make a kid homeless with their mother? Elliot had heard some stories, had seen even worse, and wouldn’t wish that shit on anybody.

  “So, what do we do?” They sat on the sidewalk in front of a nightclub, trying to be inconspicuous and not get arrested, and they plotted. Logan was really smart in things Elliot wasn’t. Like, he spent a lot of time in public libraries. While Elliot perused the action and adventure novels, Logan was looking through the periodicals, reading current events, staying up to date on tax law or some shit like that. He was really smart, so Elliot looked to him for answers.

  “We get our GED. There are free tests online we can take at the library. Then we get some sort of
training in something that will pay.” Logan shrugged as he spoke, as if the answers were clear as glass.

  So that’s what they did.

  Logan wanted to be a firefighter, and Elliot also wanted to save people, but he wasn’t as physical as his much larger friend was. He didn’t want to be on the forefront of rescuing people, preferring to be the silent partner who stood in the background. After meeting with Sam, he was sold on paramedics.

  Sam was a man who had gone into a bar where Logan and Elliot were celebrating their first jobs. Part time, yes. Unskilled labor, yes. But real money, absolutely. Sam ambled in, smelling faintly of wood smoke, which perked Logan’s curiosity, and feeling loose, they’d bought the man a beer.

  Skilled in getting stories, they tag teamed the man until he’d finally spilled. A night on rotation, Sam was a paramedic, and that night, he’d had a rough one.

  It was everything Elliot wanted. Well, everything except the green-eyed girl he still dreamed of.

  One night, after he’d gotten his GED, while he was still studying for the Emergency Medical Technician License, he dreamed of her again. Her hair flowed around her like a golden halo, her emerald eyes gazed up at him dreamily, her ruffled blouse pulled down in disarray, and he knew. He knew without a doubt this was how she would look when he met her for real. The knowledge of dreams was absolute, and he felt it deep in his bones that someday, he would really know this woman.

  It was fated.

  Elliot had no idea it would take years for his fate to come to fruition.