Balancing the Scales

by Laura Carter

  “Busy, but you know me, I like to keep busy. I bumped into your Cady this morning. She was heading to the library. She’s a looker these days, isn’t she?”

  “God, tell me about it. I’m thinking about locking her in her bedroom with a chastity belt until she’s forty.”

  Angie throws her head back as she laughs, her blond-grey ponytail swaying. “Well, her ma was a looker at that age. Not that I have to tell you as much.”

  My mind drifts to Alice—her soft smile, her gentle touch, the sweet scent of strawberries she always seemed to have. Even now, as a thirty-five-year-old woman, she’s still beautiful.

  “No, you don’t have to tell me that,” I tell Angie, fighting to keep my lips straight, rather than scowling. The woman knows how to kick a man. But she’s always been a good friend to my mother and there have been times when she’s helped keep me on the straight and narrow. Hell, sometimes her brutal honesty can be endearing. “On that note… Beer, Drew?”

  He wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin and slides his plate across the counter to Angie. “Thanks, Angie. Don’t tell my mother, but you’ve always made the best food of all the moms.”

  “Get out of here.” Her cheeks beam, more with pride than embarrassment, I think.

  The summer night’s air is warm as we head a few blocks west, toward Central Park. We take up two stools at an intentionally rustic bar. I guess you could call it a haunt of ours, although we come here less than we ever used to. I’m busy, with the gym being at full capacity these days. Drew has been working crazy hours for as long as I can remember, and now, he has his girlfriend Becky too. But it’s Friday, and we’re going to have a couple of beers before Drew picks up Becky from the swanky restaurant where she works as a patisserie chef.

  Damn, after the news I received today, a few beers will be more than welcome.

  A young waitress makes eye contact. “What can I get you two?” From the length of the mini-dress she’s wearing, together with her slim hips and flat stomach, I’d guess she’s in her early to mid-twenties. Her hair is perfectly styled. The gloss finish shines beneath the bar lights, showing the multiple colors that have been woven through it. It tells me she can afford a decent stylist. But the small hoop that pierces the inside of her ear tells me she’s kind of edgy. I’m going to guess she’s a student. An art student, maybe. Working a bar for some extra cash.

  She plants her hands on the wood-top counter. Despite the crowd, she takes time to bend forward toward us, intentionally displaying two pert breasts beneath the low neckline of her dress. She’s obvious, but she is attractive.

  Drew pays her a cursory glance, at best, and she focusses her attention on me as a result. “Two Johnnie Walker Blue Label, on the rocks,” I tell her.

  She draws one side of her mouth up until a dimple shows. “Hard liquor,” she says, emphasizing hard.

  It’s forward, too forward, but I’d be lying if I said my cock didn’t twitch. She could be someone to take me out of my head later, when I know I would otherwise lie in bed dwelling on what will never be with Alice.

  I watch her set about making our drinks. When she places them down in front of us, she says, “I’ve never seen you in here.” As she does, she slips me a napkin with the name Jennie and a mobile number written on it in lipstick.

  “Try opening your eyes,” I tell her, taking the napkin, as her eyes do, in fact, shoot wide.

  When she walks away, Drew lifts his drink to his mouth. “You’re going to take her home, aren’t you?”

  “She’s like an eight, and she’s gagging for it.”

  We both watch as Jennie glances back across her shoulder and suddenly laughs. She’s cute.

  “And you tell her to open her eyes? Risky tactic,” Drew says.

  “Not when you’ve got nothing to lose. If you start with nothing, you can only gain, right?”

  Drew’s brows furrow. “You okay, bud?”

  “Fine. Just busy.” I swig from my glass and enjoy the burn of whisky in my chest.

  “That’s what you’ve said the last three times I’ve asked you.”

  “So stop asking.”

  He raises his glass as if accepting my point, and sips. I shouldn’t have snapped, but goddamn Angie brought my mind back to Alice. I just haven’t shaken it off yet.

  “Speaking of busy,” Drew begins, “I thought we were going to find some time to talk about you franchising the gym?”

  I have thought about franchising the gym. Years ago, all I wanted was to be a successful business man. To make something of myself. To make money for my family, enough to win back Alice. Now… “What’s the point? One gym keeps me busy enough. I have money saved to put Cady through college.”

  “You’ve got the best gym in the state, Brooks, and a hell of a reputation to go with it. You’ve wanted to expand for as long as I can remember. I think now is a great time. I can email you some documents, some things to think about.”

  I drag my hands roughly across my face. “Yeah, send them over. I’ll take a look.” I drain the liquor in my glass and plant the empty down, too hard.

  “All right, buddy, what’s going on?”

  I sigh as I look at Drew, the man who knows me better than anyone, and I cave. “Alice is pregnant.”

  Drew offers no response other than to hold up two fingers to Jennie, who carries a bottle over to recharge our glasses.

  “I don’t know, Drew. On some level, I guess I’ve always thought we would end up together. She’s had two failed marriages. She’s older now. It’s not like her parents control her the way they used to. But a kid? I mean, that’s…she’s not going to leave this one.”

  I raise my chin to Jennie, who flashes me a coy smile; then I take a gulp from my freshly topped-up glass. “I know how long it’s been. I know we were kids when we had Cady. It’s just still…”

  Drew pats my shoulder as he finishes my sentence. “A punch in the gut. I can finally understand it, buddy. I thought I’d lost Becky once, and it wrecked me. I just hope you don’t stop yourself from ever finding someone, Brooks. Don’t cling to the hurt so long you let it ruin your life.”

  I laugh. A short, sarcastic sound. “Like another eighteen years?”

  At one thirty a.m. and five or six whiskies later, I’m standing outside the bar with my back propped against a yellow cab. A mild liquor fog has settled in my mind. Enough to lessen the noise of my own thoughts about Alice and her baby. Not enough to stop them completely. I stayed for another drink, or two, after Drew left. I flagged the cab when I noticed Jennie packing up for the night.

  Jennie finally appears through the double doors to the bar, stepping onto the sidewalk with a short leather jacket covering her little black dress. She’s laughing with two others who were working behind the bar tonight. Before she sees me, I hit Send on the text I’ve already typed.

  I watch a pouty smile appear on her lips as she takes out her mobile and reads my words:

  YOUR PLACE OR MINE?

  She lifts her head and looks left, then right, where our eyes connect. I open the cab door and she whispers something to the girl she’s with before coming to me. “Well, my eyes are open now, and it looks like you want a cheap fling.”

  I raise my hand to her neck and move my face within an inch of hers. “First, I don’t think you’re cheap. I think you’re hot and looking for a good time tonight. Second, yes, I do want a fling. One night to show you how a man should treat a woman. Nothing more.”

  Her eyes seem to grow heavier; then she bites her lip and slips into the back of the cab.

  Third, tonight, I could really use a distraction.

 

 

 
ends