by Naomi Niles
Tyler shook his head. “You’re the one who doesn’t get it, Dylan, and there’s no point trying to explain it to you. Jason’s coming back so let’s just try and get through this meal without jumping down each other’s throats all right?”
“Fine,” I snapped.
Jason looked between the two of us as he sat down and I knew he was hoping that whatever we had needed to discuss had been discussed and put to bed. “So, boys,” he said suggestively. “Do you have any questions?”
“No,” I said. “Tyler can have the land in California, I’m fine with that.”
“And you’ll take the ones in Bastrop?”
“That’s right,” I nodded.
“Fantastic,” Jason said. “That will make the rest of this easy.”
Tyler and I drove home in silence, but there was a nagging in the back of my mind and I couldn’t seem to put it to rest. I glanced at Tyler; his eyes were fixed on the road in front of us, but I could tell his mind was on other things too.
“I should have called mom and dad more often,” I said. “I know that I didn’t stay in touch as much as I should have.”
Tyler was quiet for so long that I thought he was just going to ignore me. “They understood,” he said at last. “Better than I did, at least.”
“It’s just that … I was dealing with things … I had to wrap my head around this new reality and hearing their voices … it made me want to pack my bags and come right back home,” I admitted. “I wanted to quit a thousand times in those first few months of training and I knew as long as this town had a hold on me, I wouldn’t be able to see it through.”
“I guess … that makes sense,” Tyler said.
“You were right, though,” I said. “I wasn’t fair to them, or to Lizzie.”
I saw Tyler glance at me. “You’ve been spending time with her again.”
“Yes,” I nodded.
“Is that wise?” Tyler asked. “You are going back in three weeks.”
“She knows the situation,” I replied. “I made sure she did, and I think we both know that three more weeks is all we have.”
“And she’s ok with that?”
I nodded.
“Are you?” Tyler asked.
“I have no choice but to be ok with it,” I answered.
“I think that was what surprised me the most about your decision to enlist,” Tyler said after a moment.
“What?”
“Lizzie,” Tyler replied. “The two of you were joined at the hip since you were twelve or thirteen. You were together for so long that I never imagined you’d make the decision to leave her behind.”
“It’s not as though I could take her with me.”
“No,” Tyler agreed. “But I thought you’d fight harder to keep the relationship going.”
I bristled at his words. “You don’t know that I didn’t try.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” Tyler said. “Did you?”
“I ... it’s complicated.”
“It always is,” Tyler said smugly.
I ignored him and shook the frustration off. If I was being honest, the person I was frustrated with the most was myself. I was the one who had made stupid decisions; I was the one who had let every important relationship in my life slide downhill. My parents were my parents and I knew that they’d be there for me at the end of the day. But it was naïve and selfish to assume Lizzie would put her life on hold and wait for me.
“I still can’t quite believe she married Paul Kapke,” I said, thinking out loud.
“Well she did.”
“What happened?”
“I already told you,” Tyler said impatiently.
I rolled my eyes at him. “Forgive me if I need a little more detail,” I said. “I just … she’s important to me, ok? I’m curious about her life.”
“Then maybe you should ask her.”
“I’m asking you.”
Tyler sighed. “Listen … I don’t know much ok? I know what I heard from around town. I heard about the wedding and then a few months later …”
“What?”
“I ran into Paul at a bar in town,” Tyler said.
“Yeah?”
“He was completely drunk and talking his ass off to the bartender and a couple of guys sitting next to him.”
“What was he saying?”
“He was talking about his wife,” Tyler said. “At first I didn’t know who he was talking about and then I remembered he had married Lizzie. He was talking about how spoilt and selfish she was, he was talking about how …” The silence hung in the air.
“How promiscuous she could be,” Tyler finished reluctantly.
“Lizzie?” I asked in outraged incredulity. “Promiscuous?”
“He was lying,” Tyler went on. “Anyone who knows Lizzie knows that she’s the typical good girl. He was drunk and they’d probably had a fight that night.
“What did you say?”
“What did I say?” Tyler repeated.
“Yeah, didn’t you say anything?”
“For God’s sake, Dylan, what the fuck was I supposed to do?” Tyler demanded. “I didn’t know him, I barely knew Lizzie anymore. I didn’t know anything about their marriage and I had no right to get involved.”
I swallowed my retort and tried to calm down by breathing. “I know,” I said trying to keep my tone even so that Tyler would keep talking. “What happened after that?”
“It kept happening,” Tyler said. “He kept getting drunk, going off to clubs and bars alone at night, and shooting his mouth off about Lizzie. He told people she was cheating on him, that she entertained men at night, he told them she charged for sex. He told them all sorts of awful things about her.”
“None of which were true,” I said heatedly.
“Of course not,” Tyler agreed. “But people like gossip in small towns and we’re no exception.”
“Lizzie must have hated that,” I said mostly to myself.
“She retreated into her shell,” Tyler said. “She became a ghost. I barely saw her around town anymore.”
I was angry. I was angry with Tyler even though I knew he didn’t deserve it. I was angry with Paul because he completely deserved it. But mostly I was mad because I had left Lizzie here, I had left her in this town all alone and Paul had taken advantage of that. And yet, he still wasn’t the one that I was most angry with.
The person I was most angry with was myself.
Chapter Sixteen
Elizabeth
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, casting a critical eye over my features. I had never spent this much time in a bathroom trying to figure out if I had too much makeup on or too little. I splashed water on my face until it was clean again and then I took out my eyeliner pencil.
I circled by eyes minimally and took a step back. It had the desired effect. My eyes looked large and prominent; the black of the liner made the blue of my eyes seem just a tad bit brighter. I took out my nude gloss and ran it over my lips, and then I pinched my cheeks and stared at myself again. I sighed, knowing that I would never be a hundred percent satisfied with myself.
I was contemplating what I should do with my hair when Heather walked in. She looked at me with interest as she slipped beside me to re-do her own lipstick.
“You’ve been here a long time,” she observed.
“Have I?” I tried to act like I hadn’t noticed.
“Joni mentioned that you were pulling at your face when she came in here ten minutes ago.”
I groaned in frustration. “Geez … you bitches like to talk don’t you?”
Heather laughed. “So who’s the guy?”
“What guy?” I asked pointlessly.
“Oh come on, Elizabeth,” Heather went on. “There is no other reason for you to be in here so long. Don’t worry about it, hon; we’ve all been there.”
I threw my lip-gloss back into my tiny makeup kit and sighed. “This is not the kind of girl I am.”
“What kind
of girl is that?”
“This,” I said pointing to my reflection in the mirror. “I mean I’m not the kind of girl who skulks around in bathrooms worrying about how good or not good she looks.”
“Every girl is that kind of girl,” Heather said giving me a knowing look. “Especially when there’s a special boy waiting for you.”
I looked back at my reflection. “I hate my freckles,” I said running my fingers along the bridge of my nose.
“Don’t,” Heather said as she glanced at me. “They give your face some character.”
“Without which I would have none?” I asked in shock.
“God,” Heather groaned. “You are so hard to compliment.”
“Was that a compliment?”
“Whatever,” Heather replied. “Apart from your slightly bitchy attitude, you look hot.” She finished applying her makeup and then she headed back outside towards the bar. “Although I would lose the ponytail.”
I followed her advice and took down my hair. “Fuck it,” I said to my reflection as I turned my back on it and headed out to the bar. I washed it down and tended to the two costumers sitting front and center, all the while trying not to keep glancing at the time. It was no use however; every time I had a moment to spare, my eyes would dart to the clock on the wall on my phone on the counter. It was half past nine and Dylan was already late.
“Hi there, doll,” an all too familiar voice said to my right.
“Paul,” I sighed. “What are you doing here again?”
“What do you think?” he asked sarcastically. “I’m here to drink … but I’ll admit seeing you in a bonus.”
“What do you want?” I demanded. “I’ll send it to your table.”
“Actually I think I’ll sit by the bar.”
I groaned audibly as Paul sat down directly in front of me. “The usual please,” he said with that slick grin that I used to believe was sincere.
“You love this don’t you?” I demanded.
“Love what?” he asked in a good imitation of innocence.
“You love coming here and pissing me off,” I said. “Because you know that it isolates me. You know that as long as you’re around, I can’t move on with my life … not really anyway.”
“Now, that’s just not true,” he said as though he had wounded him.
“No?” I asked. “Then what is?”
“I miss you Beth-Beth.”
“Don’t call me that,” I said through gritted teeth. “You don’t miss me; you just missing having someone to torture.”
“That’s unfair,” Paul said with indignation. “Torture is a strong word.”
I glared at him. “Do you even remember what happened?”
“Perfectly,” Paul replied. “But to be honest, darling, I think that was an over-reaction on your part.”
“You are such a colossal asshat,” I said trying to be the bigger person and simply walk away.
“Asshat?” Paul repeated in amusement. “Did you learn that from one of the kids in school?”
“As a matter of fact, I did,” I replied.
Paul laughed. “You look really pretty tonight. Did you get all dressed up for me?”
“You wish,” I shot at him.
“Well I like it,” he said. “Especially that tight, little skirt. It makes your ass look big.”
“You pervert,” I said looking at him with disgust.
“Aw come on,” Paul went on. “I’m trying to give you a compliment.”
“A compliment?” I asked in anger.
“I have to say though Elizabeth … you didn’t look half so good when we were married,” Paul went on. “It’s almost like you stopped trying. In which case you can’t really blame me for everything that went wrong between us.”
“Are you serious?” I demanded incredulously.
“What?” he asked as though he were genuinely shocked by my outrage. “Well come on, it takes two to tango,” Paul said as though he were the victim. “And you certainly never wore that skirt when we were married.”
“You are a piece of work,” I said mostly to myself. “Heather!” I called. “Take over for me, will you? I’m gonna wait on the tables.”
“Aw come on Elizabeth, don’t be like that,” Paul said. “Stay and talk to me; we’re just having some fun here.”
I ignored him and moved towards the tables. I didn’t know if he was watching me or following me; all I knew was that I wanted to get as far away from him as possible. People had their own assumptions as to why our marriage ended and I knew that some of Paul’s lies about me had spread like wild fire, not because they had any real merit, but simply because they were more interesting.
Mostly people just couldn’t believe that nice and friendly Paul was actually capable of verbal abuse. They saw the smile on his face and they thought they knew him. I knew the truth. I knew what he was when the doors and windows were shut and no one was around. The smile slid off his face and what replaced it was something entirely different.
“Lizzie?”
I looked up in surprise. I had been so preoccupied fuming about Paul that I hadn’t even heard Dylan approach me. “Hi,” he said with that beautiful smile. “Sorry I’m late.”
“That’s ok,” I said.
He looked like some Greek god who had just landed on Earth. He was so beautiful that I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. When we had been together all those years ago, I had loved how long and silky his hair had been, but now I preferred the short-cropped hair. It put his dazzling features on full display.
“I probably don’t deserve it,” he teased. “But can I get a kiss.”
He didn’t wait for me to reply. Instead, he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him. In that moment, I forgot that I was at work, I forgot that there were tables to be cleaned up and orders to take. I even forgot that Paul was sitting by the bar watching the whole thing. All I wanted was to feel his lips on mine, to feel his body close against mine.
His lips had just barely touched mine when he was ripped away from me and suddenly I was staring at Paul instead. “Paul …” I gasped. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Dylan fucking Thomas,” Paul said, his eyes were narrowed threateningly at Dylan.
Dylan on the other hand looked calmly amused. “Paul fucking Kapke,” he responded, looking Paul up and down as though he were an insect that had just crawled into his food.
“You didn’t die over there?”
“Obviously not,” Dylan responded coolly.
“Shame.”
“Paul!” I exclaimed. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Get out of here.”
He acted as though I hadn’t spoken. His eyes were trained on Dylan and nothing else. “You used to walk around like you owned the fucking town,” Paul said. “I see that hasn’t changed.”
“You used to walk around like you had mulch for brains,” Paul swung back at him. “Apparently that hasn’t changed either. Get out of my face, Kapke.”
“You gonna make me?”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “Are you for real man?” he asked. “We’re not in high school anymore.”
“Lucky for you,” Paul said.
“Why?” Dylan asked with raised eyebrows. “Because you’d have your little gang for backup? Well, unlike you, I don’t need a three other guys at my back to feel like I can take anyone on.”
“I can take you on just fine by myself.”
“No one is taking anyone on tonight,” I said getting between them. “Please, Paul, just go home.”
“Are you fucking him?” he asked suddenly, his eyes flashing to me.
“I … none of your damn business,” I stammered, aware of everyone’s eyes on us.
Paul shook his head at me. “I always knew you were a whore.”
I jerked back as Dylan’s fist made contact with Paul’s face. The bar erupted into chaos and people were forced to jump out of the way as Dylan and Paul went at it in the center of the pub. I stood there, unable to jump in to h
elp, powerless to stop them.
“Hey, HEY!” a booming voice yelled and I turned to find Jack standing near the bar staring over at Dylan and Paul in disbelief.
“Fuck,” I gasped knowing that Jack would not take kindly to any damage caused by the fight.
A couple of men, including Jack, moved forward in an attempt to stop the fight but they were too late. Dylan pushed Paul against one of the tables with his hands twisted behind his back. I watched him bend down slightly and say something close to Paul’s ear. I heard Paul grind his teeth in anger as he tried desperately to break Dylan’s hold on him.
It was no use, however; Dylan’s hands remained firm and unbreakable. He looked like he was barely exerting pressure in the first place.
“Damn,” I heard a girl in the next table say. “He’s hot.”
I moved away from the other tables and walked up to Dylan. “Dylan, please,” I said. “Let him go.”
“Sure,” Dylan smiled pleasantly but there was a glint in his eye. “But first, let me show him the door.”
Dylan pulled Paul up, keeping a tight hold on his arms and pushed him towards the door. I heard Paul groan as he was pushed out onto the street like some rabid animal. I glanced at Jack who was looking straight at me.
“Paul started it,” I said.
“I don’t doubt it,” Jack hissed. “You need to keep him out of here.”
“I don’t have any control over him, Jack,” I said. “And you know that, but if you want to ban him from the bar, then go right on ahead.”
He grunted at me. “Get back to work.”
“My shift is over,” I reminded him.
He gave me a side-glance. “Fine then,” he grunted again and started barking orders at Heather and Joni. On any other day, I would have stayed a little longer and helped out, but this time I moved straight for Dylan.
“Are you all right?” I asked looking him up and down.
“Of course.”
“You’re not,” I said instantly. “Your lip has split.”
Dylan reached up and touched his finger to his lip. “That’s nothing,” he said. “Barely a scrape.”
“All the same, come with me,” I insisted. “I’ll get you cleaned up.”
A smile spread across Dylan’s face. “Well how can I say no to that?”