by Mia Soto
“Yeah, yes, yes I’m sure.” The tears were coming again.
“Can I help you out? Call someone?”
There was no one to call. Mom had Sam. Better half had just been cut free. So I shook my head.
“Can I help?” I shrugged pitifully unable to speak and he smothered a small laugh. “Would you like me to take you home?”
I cried for a minute and then nodded. I couldn’t believe it. What was I doing? But I couldn’t get home by myself. I needed help.
“Hey, Sam,” he called to his waiting friend. My tears came harder, and he turned back to me. “Are you ok?” I just nodded. He turned back to his friends. “I’m going to help this lady out. Can you pick me up lunch?”
“Johnson!” His friend threw his hands up like the man had just lost his mind, but Johnson ignored him.
“Where do you live?”
“Right down the street. Less than five minutes.” The tears were ebbing. Tears are like that for me, like waves crashing and retreating. “I’m actually ok.” I was for the split second I said that and then they crashed again.
“Yeah, I can see that. Come on, out.” He opened the door and escorted me around to his car. We drove home in silence, and I never thanked him for turning the radio off that day. He walked me up to my door, and my insane neighbor was out smoking. This is a girl ten years my junior, who doesn’t seem to have a job, has multiple questionable men in her life and a little boy caught in the mix. She was all kinds of interested when I came home that day with Officer Mark Johnson. I don’t think anyone realized I was getting divorced at that point.
I opened the door and walked in. Officer Johnson was in the hall preparing to speak when I waved him in. I’d rather a strange man in my home than my neighbor with an earful of my personal dramas.
“Are you ok?” His voice was so gentle. It brought the tears again. He took out a card and held it out to me. “Call if you need someone. Will you be able to get your car?”
I nodded trying to ebb my tears. “My mom.” It was all I could manage.
“Did something happen to you?”
I nodded and then choked out, “divorce.” Understanding dawned across his face like morning lifting. His hand wrapped around my neck and brought me close. It was the first of many times he’d make things right in my life. I took his offer of charity that day since the person who used to fill the void had just been released from duty. I don’t really know what was said to end that sad scene. But he walked out, and I fully expected never to see him again.
Not a month later a break in occurred at my lovely complex. Sam and I were walking when I saw a group of men talking and taking notes. I didn’t pay much attention until one broke away. I was squatting down talking to Sam when I noticed someone approaching. It took me a minute, but I recognized him. It’s hard not too. He is recognizable in all of the right ways. I thought about bolting, but that would have meant leaving Sam behind, not an option. So I took my medicine.
“Hi!” He was much happier to see me than I was to see him. I guess it’s always the humiliated who would rather forget the past.
I smiled and stood. “Hi.”
“How are you doing?” He seemed genuinely concerned.
“I’m good. Much better, thanks.”
“I thought you might call.”
I didn’t bother telling him that his card was buried under a pile of similar cards on my desk. “I didn’t want to bother you. I felt bad enough as it was.”
“You shouldn’t. I’ve been wondering about you.” An unstoppable smile crossed my lips. “I could have found your number, but I wanted you to call me.”
The smile widened as Sam pulled on me to continue our walk. “I have to go.”
Mark nodded before turning his attention to Sam, “Hey buddy!”
Sam smiled. Sam’s an attention whore, shameless. He waved with his biggest smile, “hiiiii.”
“Hi, take care of Mommy.” Sam just smiled. As far as he was concerned the world existed to take care of him.
I walked away fully aware that Officer Johnson’s blue eyes were taking in every inch of me. I was glad I was wearing clean clothes. I was wishing I had dropped those last ten pounds. I found out much later he wasn’t even there on official duty. He was along for the ride, waiting on a buddy for an after work beer, and hoping I might happen by. After that day, it became an exercise in what a small world it was. We ran into each other everywhere. The last place before we finally took action on our building interest was at Barnes and Nobles. I was in line buying books, and he came up behind me. Deep in concentration, I heard his voice over my shoulder.
“The Lord Stevens is not one to be denied. He will have Genevieve at any cost.”
My head jerked up into his smiling eyes. I flushed embarrassed that he’d seen me buying that, but I needed some trash to make life palatable, and I wasn’t up for Dostoevsky. “I won’t even try to explain.”
He laughed and held up his pile of sports magazine. “It’s our version of that.” He pointed at the books I was trying to hide.
We were happy to see each other. The electricity was pulsing between our bodies. We ended up spending the afternoon in the manufactured coffee shop eating crappy pastries and just talking. Whatever we talked about in that café, it wasn’t the details of our lives. We left knowing very little about each other. Come to think of it, I have no idea what we talked about those couple of hours. What I did know, after that afternoon, was that we were desperately interested in each other. As he walked me to my car and opened my door, our wishful looks and awkward touches seemed to be driving the electricity between us.
“Are you ok?” He finally asked the obvious. It was almost strange to have him ask it then.
“Better and better, every day,” I said. I was facing out prolonging a moment neither of us wanted to end. When he stepped close, my stomach started doing that junior high thing.
“I don’t know who divorced you, but he must be the stupidest man alive.” He kissed me. It was the first of many since perfect kisses. My blood went still, my lungs stopped contracting, and my heart ceased beating.
***
I need him tonight. I need someone. I can hear the world whizzing by his helmet. Bikes and I don’t mix, and he knows it. I saw a fatal bike accident turning out of my complex one day. The man was still in the fetal position he died in. I hated bikes before that. I hate them even more now.
“I just left The Dog,” he says.
“On a Friday? No luck, huh?” The Dog is a hole in the wall neighborhood joint with obscene waitresses. All the local good ole boys love it.
“None that I was interested in.”
“No Babette?” She is the coveted waitress, and she loves Mark. I know this because he and I ended up there the same night once. That night I was her best friend. She wanted to know everything I knew about Mark. I didn’t know much. I still don’t, and I think she thought I was lying to her. I wasn’t. If Mark wants her over me, or anyone else, then power to him. I am no longer in a position in life to be jealous over something so ridiculous.
“She was there,” he says after a pause.
“Then it sounds like you might have been able to get really lucky.” It is this kind of empty conversation I need to help me forget about what kind of night I’m celebrating.
“Open the door,” he says. The tears flood. He is always trying to save me. Doesn’t he know it isn’t necessary? “Did you hear me?”
I’m crying again. “Yes.”
“Open it.” I’m looking through the peephole at him on his cell. “Open it, Margo.”
I open the door, and he looks all delicious in his black t-shirt and perfectly fitting relaxed jeans. I’m wondering how this man is single. We’ve never talked about it, but somehow I know he’s single. My guess is I look a wreck. His eyes take me in, and I’m in his arms before another second passes. He can kiss - something fierce. I take that back. He can do a lot of things men should be able to do – something fierce. He’s ki
ssing me right now in a way that makes me almost forget the occasion.
My obnoxious neighbor is out, smoking, with one of her many, crazy men. She is very interested in Mark and can’t seem to ask enough questions about him. If she thinks he’s around then count on her being out, smoking and dressed skimpily. I’m telling you, crazy. He closes the door before she can get anymore perspective on my life. When his lips finally release mine, we are pressed against the wall, and his full body weight is leaning against me.
“What’s this?” He asks fingering my eye. I’ve never been in a fight before. I think if anyone ever hit me I’d probably start crying. It’s kind of fun to have a shiner.
“Long story.” My lips find his again, and we continue discovering each others’ tonsils for awhile.
“I’d like to hear it.”
I can’t believe he’s still thinking about this. I’ve forgotten my name after that kiss. I tell him the story, and he just nods. It might be anger I see in his eyes, but his soft kisses on my bruises erase any other thoughts I’m having. We are in the bedroom, and he’s doing those things to me that make me crazy. I can’t remember what day or time we actually crossed the line into this territory, but we did. And when we did, it was natural, like something we should have always been doing.
***
He holds me tightly and doesn’t usually let go until he leaves.
“Did you call the police?” He is still angry about my eye.
“Honestly, it’s over. I won’t work for them again. Just a crazy couple – that’s all.”
“I’m going to look him up tomorrow.”
I turn over onto my back. He is glaring at the wall, and I can feel his anger in the dark air. “Mark, save that for the bad guys. Sean’s just an ass.”
He bends down to kiss me. His mouth could work wonders for the benefit of world peace. It’s gentle and soft and commanding. “I’m still looking him up.”
“Let’s not talk about Sean. It’s a waste of time.”
His hand is wandering down my naked side, returning to cup my breast. He smiles through the darkness. “I couldn’t agree more.”
***
His phone rings in the middle of the night. He’s still wrapped around me. Nights that he is with me, I’m ok, almost happy. He is the only man, other than my ex, who has spent the night in my home. The only reason he’s been allowed this generosity is because he comes after ten and is gone before the sun rises. It’s an unofficial agreement between us. My number one guy never knows there was company then we’re cool. The day he does all bets are off. He untangles from me and fumbles for his phone.
“Hello?” His voice sounds groggy. “Yeah?” I’m half asleep. I’m used to my ex getting calls from all over the world at the craziest times.
“Ok,” he says. “Uh, huh, ok. Keep me posted.” He hangs up the phone and nuzzles my neck. “What did you say that couple’s name was? The ones you were cooking for today?”
“Sean and Marsha? Banks?” I’m pressing into Mark hoping he might be in the mood for a middle-of-the-nighter.
“Well, cops are at his house right now. Sean is dead.”
My frisky play comes to an immediate halt. I can hardly speak. “He’s dead?”
Mark is kissing the swell of my breasts with a nod. “Yeah, they got the call about an hour ago. He choked, on falafel balls.”
Sean loves those things. I make them for him all of the time. He choked on them? He’s dead? “He choked?”
“Yeah, tonight.” He is kissing the divot at the base of my neck before he gets up and starts dressing.
“You’re going?” I’m a little surprised. I thought we were heading somewhere with all this kissing.
“I’m going up there,” he says.
“Isn’t that a little far north for you? Is this even in your job description?”
“I like to keep track of things important to those in my life.” What does he mean by that? I wouldn’t exactly describe us as in each other’s lives. I would describe it more as in each other’s beds, my bed to be exact.
He kisses me again, in that full on pornographic way, before he stands up and starts to leave. Most men would not leave a bed with a willing woman after such a kiss. I’m starting to gather that he isn’t like most men.
“Let me know,” I say. I hate that he can hear the disappointment in my voice. He comes back and kisses me again.
“Go to sleep. And no more crying.” I roll my eyes with a smile.
Chapter 3
Bacon Wrapped Steak
4 8oz petite filets
4 long strips of apple bacon
Jigger of Whiskey and Rum
Jigger of Worcestershire sauce
Clove of fresh garlic minced
2T olive oil
Salt and pepper
Mix whiskey, rum, garlic, oil, Worcestershire vigorously, like you’re making a dressing. It should emulsify. Pour over the filets and marinate for a few hours on each side or overnight (turning regularly).
1 hour before cooking remove from refrigerator and dry in towels. Once dry, sprinkle generously with salt and pepper and wrap in the bacon securing with toothpicks. Broil in your oven on high for about 3-4 minutes per side for medium rare or grill for 3-4 minutes glazing at least two time per side.
Glazing Sauce
1/4c orange blossom honey
2T sesame oil
½ a squeezed lime plus zest
Mix vigorously and brush over meat.
I’m up at six the next day. I don’t have a choice. Sam’s up. I’m up. That’s the deal, like it or not. We do our morning routine of breakfast and reading, getting dressed and walks. His dad comes for him around nine. I walk him down the stairs and then let him run over. Big Sam and I give each other an awkward wave before I rush back upstairs trying to pretend this isn’t my life.
Once back in my apartment I wander around for awhile. I always think I’ll go back to sleep and enjoy the freedom. I never do. No book could prepare me for how something so little bitty could totally change the course of my life. It’s so much better, and sometimes so much worse, and I’d be lying if I said anything else. As I’m fumbling through my attempt at relevancy without Sam, I actually manage to do some cleaning and shower. Then I’m hungry and as I’m staring into the bleak oblivion of my fridge the phone rings.
“Let’s lunch,” Nikko, my single swinging cousin, says without any sort of lead up. I look at the clock, plenty of time before I have to get ready.
“Alright,” I agree. “Where?”
“Lunchbox?” Ugh and sigh. It’s a hip joint for hip singles. It gets written up all the time as the daytime equivalent to the scene bar. It serves fancified school cafeteria fare and then has the bench style tables like from high school. It’s your worst nightmare, relived. “Come on. We haven’t been in forever.” Nikko’s been a life saver as I reenter the world of singledom.
“Alright, but I’m running there.” I say this because I know she’ll be decked out as much as possible at noon on a Saturday and I don’t want to hear about how I’m in shorts and a tank and sweating.
“Cool,” she brightens. I could say I’m wearing a sack over my head as long as I say I’m coming.
We’re sitting at our bench and she has basically abandoned me for the cute guy to her right. I’d be annoyed but we’re each other wing women. I’ve abandoned her before but we have each other’s backs and we know it. Her cute guy’s wingman keeps trying to engage me in conversation. He’s a little too flirty feely and I keep inching back. He keeps inching forward. He comments on my washed out brown eyes and lifts a hand to tug at my ponytail. I inch back again but this time it’s into an unexpected steel wall. I turn to find Mark sitting next to me and he doesn’t have a happy look.
“Hi,” I say surprised and he furthers the surprise by kissing me fiercely and no little bit possessively. His arm snakes around me to cup my bottom and slip me into him. It feels great, how strong he is especially with his arm around me. “What are
you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” Mark’s looking over my head at the wingman who has turned his back to us and is now talking to the girl to his right.
“Eating.”
“Well I guess the mystery of whether you actually eat is now solved.” He’s annoyed, probably at wingman and maybe me a little and I’m annoyed at his reaction to an innocent lunch. We aren’t exactly committed.
“Haha.” He’s always getting on me about eating. “Are you casing the joint?”
He gives a sarcastic look. “No, I’m eating too.”
So I say, “why don’t you go get lunch? I’ll see you later.”
That really ticks him off I can see it in his eyes. “Yeah, later.” He’s up and gone in another minute without a backwards look.
“Who’s that?” I finally have Nikko’s interest.
“Mark.” I look over my shoulder and he’s in line and a nice looking, shit, no, pretty girl is chatting him up.
“What? That’s Mark?” Her eyes are sizing him up appreciatively and for some reason that rubs me the wrong way because Nikko is beautiful. She’s the kind of girl guys love even when she’s not trying to make them love her.
“Yeah, that’s him.” I look over my shoulder and he’s laughing with that girl who actually might be beautiful. He reaches out and touches her arm innocently and my stomach turns. I turn back and stare at my barely touched mac ‘n cheese. “Look I’m going to go. I have to get ready.”
She gives him one more up and down and nods sympathetically. I know I’ll get a full report later and the great thing about Nikko is even if Mark does show interest she’ll never act on it, not knowing what she knows about him and I. She’s a true friend. I toss one more look over my shoulder at Mark who’s still deep in conversation with that girl. Whatever. I barely make it to the street on my walk back when Mark is hailing me down.
“Hey, where are you going?” He is charging toward me angrily.
“Home.” I hold my ground even when he reaches me and hovers over in an intimidating fashion.