That One Day (That One #1.5)

by Josie Wright

  I don’t want to think anymore. I wish I could just turn off my brain, to stop memories and questions playing on repeat without a minute’s break.

  All I want to do is get inside and have a hot shower, watch some porn to relieve some of the tension, and then get drunk.

  But no, that’s not in the cards. As soon as I’m out of the truck, Allie comes bouncing down the steps of her front porch where Jake and Mike sit and chat.

  “Hey, neighbor.”

  Right now, her voice is like fingernails on a chalkboard.

  “Not now, Allie,” I grind out.

  “Oh, come on, Ben. Join us on the porch. It’ll cheer you up. That’s what friends are for.”

  In that moment, I lose it. I take all of my frustration out on her. She makes too easy of a target with her sweet and bubbly personality.

  “We’re not fucking friends. I have friends back home. I don’t need or want you to be my friend. And I sure as fuck won’t cheer up. Not everyone can walk through life oblivious to the real world. So why don’t you just leave me the fuck alone and annoy someone else.” I’m yelling, drawing the attention of the neighbors from the other side of the street who are watering their plants. They stop mid-movement and are staring at us.

  I ignore them and Jake, who’s making his way over to us, probably ready to kick my ass. I ignore Allie who stares at me as if I’ve grown a second head, shock and hurt written all over her face, her eyes swimming with tears.

  I stomp off into the house, slamming the door behind me. I walk to the kitchen sink and open the tap, sticking my head under the cold water. With water dripping down my face and shirt, I grab the half-empty whiskey bottle off the kitchen table and make my way to the guestroom, where I sit down on the bed and down the bottle in one go. I suppose it’s not a good sign that I don’t even feel the burn anymore.

  Chapter 10

  Sorry Seems to be My Favorite Word

  I wake up with a headache, which has become quite common. I know I should stop drinking so much, but it’s the only thing numbing me enough to not feel and think all the time.

  The all-too-familiar feeling of guilt seems to have quadrupled overnight—and for once it’s not about Frankie. It’s not about Dave. And, it’s not about my mom or Ron either.

  I feel like a complete douchebag for taking my frustration out on Allie. She might be annoying as hell, but she definitely didn’t deserve it.

  After a quick shower, I’m ready to bite the bullet and go apologize. It’s past ten in the morning, but since it’s the weekend, I’m hoping Allie will be home.

  The door opens after the first knock. Jake glowers at me, taking a step toward me.

  “Listen, man, I came to apologize.” I hold both hands up, showing I come in peace.

  “You fucking better. You hurt her.”

  “Yeah, that’s my specialty as of late,” I say before walking past him into the living room where Allie is sitting on the couch, cuddling Muffin, and watching some stupid chick flick.

  Jake’s eyebrows rise in question, but I don’t plan to get into my story with Frankie.

  Allie looks up at me, but then looks at the TV again. Unsure what to do, I sit down on the other end of the couch.

  “I’m an asshole. I know that.”

  “No shit, Sherlock.” She purses her lips and keeps staring at the TV.

  “You didn’t do anything to deserve my anger, Allie. I had a really shitty day. Fuck that, a shitty three months to be honest. I’m not in the best place right now. It’s still no excuse for how I treated you. I’m sorry.”

  I look at her waiting for a reply.

  She looks to the side, her lips pursed. “Just because I’m usually happy and bubbly doesn’t mean I don’t hurt,” she says, still not looking at me. “There is shit in everyone’s life. But I don’t see the point of letting it take over. How would that make anything better? So I try to be as happy as I can be, see the good in everything. But I’m not anyone’s doormat or punching bag.” She huffs and I’m not sure if that means she’s accepting my apology or not. A few seconds pass before she speaks again.

  “Want to talk about it?” Finally, she looks over at me and smiles.

  “Not really. But I’d like to invite the three of you over for dinner.”

  “We’ll be there.”

  I smile at her. “Friends?”

  “I thought you didn’t need any.” I’m surprised that Allie can actually be anything other than sweet.

  “That was the asshole talking. He’s locked away now.”

  “Good. ’Cause if he comes out again around my girl, he won’t live to regret it,” Jake grumbles from the kitchen, and I take that as my cue to leave.

  “Tonight at six?”

  Allie nods before turning back to the TV. “See you later, friend.”

  I laugh and head back to my house. I guess as far as new friends go, I could do worse.

  Just as I step through the door, the phone rings and I recognize the first digits. It’s someone calling from St. Michael’s. Automatically, a knot forms in my stomach.

  “Ben Gibson.”

  “Son, it’s me. Glad I managed to reach you. I don’t think you should come out today. I’m not doing well. Maybe sometime next week?”

  “Sure. Whatever you need.” I try to keep the disappointment out of my voice, while at the same time feeling a hint of relief at not having to deal with him or this situation today.

  “I don’t mean to hurt you, Ben, but all of this came as a bit of a shock.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  “Okay, well, I’ll see you next week then.”

  “Hold on a moment. I’m cleaning out the house. Is there anything you want me to keep? Something you’d like me to bring you?” I ask so that I have something to do for next week. There is a lot of stuff in this house and I want to get rid of all the crap my grandmother collected. It’s surprising how many jewelry boxes a woman can possess—without much jewelry to actually go in them.

  “There’s just one thing. I’d like a picture of us together if there is still one left.”

  His voice sounds hoarse, like he’d been crying earlier.

  “Sure, I’ve found a few. I’ll bring them with me.” I still don’t know how to address him. Dad just doesn’t seem right, which makes me feel like shit.

  “Thank you.”

  “Take care.”

  “You too, Ben.” The line goes dead, and the constant anger at my mom rushes to the surface again. I know what the truth has done to me. With my father’s mental state, it must be so much worse for him.

  ***

  After working on the house for a few hours, I decide to start preparations for dinner. I’ve never cooked much myself, but often helped my mom out at the bed and breakfast, or saw Frankie’s mom cook—it can’t be that hard. I quickly run to the store to grab a few things. Back home, I start cooking, while listening to Kid Rock.

  Unfortunately, as with nearly every song I listen to these days, I’m reminded of my life prior to the damn letter.

  “All Summer Long” by Kid Rock was the summer anthem for Dave, Frankie, and I from the moment the song came out until Frankie went to college.

  Thinking about it leads quickly to me thinking about her. I wonder what she’s doing right now, if she’s met someone else. That thought is like a punch in the face, but it’s not unrealistic. She won’t be sitting around for the next decade thinking about me. It’s not her style. She’s way too spunky for that.

  Fuck, why did she have to be there that weekend? If she wasn’t there, we never would have happened and I wouldn’t be so hung up on her. I feel like a love-struck teenager. A love-struck teenager who fucked up the best thing that could’ve happened to him.

  ***

  Allie, Jake, and Mike show up just at the right time. The food is done and ready to be served.

  “Come in, guys.”

  “How did you manage to cook in this warzone?” Jake points to the kitchen, still mostly
stripped bare since I’m in the midst of working on it.

  “It’s called skills, man. Something you probably don’t know anything about.”

  “Good one.” He snorts, sitting down at the table.

  I start serving the food. Potato and broccoli gratin with bacon bits, fried chicory, and turkey breast filets baked with cream cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, and cheese. Seems fancy, but is super easy. They seem to be thrilled since there isn’t much talking going on while we eat—everyone is wolfing down their food. It’s a comfortable silence, though.

  Only once we’re done eating and go sit outside, the talking starts. Or more like, Allie starts talking and keeps on talking throughout the evening. It’s actually kind of nice, even though I zone out at times. When she’s quiet for more than a breath or two, Mike and I talk about the work on the house, or Jake and I discuss cars and music.

  “Ben, what’s with all the stuff outside and inside the house that makes it look like a junkyard?” Mike asks, nodding his head toward the house.

  “I’m sorting out my grandmother’s stuff. There is a lot of it. You wouldn’t believe how much.” I roll my eyes and sigh.

  “I know what you should do, and I have the perfect three people to help you.” Allie beams at me.

  “Oh dear, here we go,” Jake mumbles, before taking a gulp of his water. With Mike around, alcohol is a no-go.

  “And what would that be, Allie?” My words are tinged by mock annoyance and I cross my arms over my chest, my eyebrows lifted in question. I prepare myself for the worst.

  “A yard sale. People love that stuff and you could make a lot of money. What do you say? We could do it next weekend. I’ll help set it up and sort things out. It’ll be fun. My sister can come over for the sale and help us. She’s really good. She could sell ice to an Eskimo.”

  “You have a sister?”

  “Yes, half-sister. She lives with her dead-beat mom. But that’s not the point here. What do you say?” Allie is bouncing up and down in her seat, a pleading look on her face. You’d think I told her she’s won a million dollars.

  “I hate to admit it, Allie, and God knows, I’ll come to regret it, but it’s actually a good idea.” The yard sale at least is. Allie helping might make sedatives a necessity.

  “Oh boy.” Mike sounds amused, and I have a feeling I’m not going to like myself for agreeing to this thing.

  “Okay, boys. This is awesome. I’ll take the next few days off and will help Ben sort through things. Jake, when you get home from work, you’ll do the heavy lifting and set everything up on the day of the sale. Mike, you’ll price stuff, checking prices online. Ben, you and I will figure out what to sell and what to throw. Oooh, this sounds like so much fun.”

  “Yay,” Mike and Jake say in unison, both of them resigned to their new tasks. I can’t help laughing. This is going to be interesting.

  After they leave, I decide to start the sorting process. Allie might be a nice girl, but the next week with her might be too much for my system. I take the pictures my father asked for and put them aside to take with me when I visit him next week.

  ***

  Over the next few days, Allie, Mike, and I work on sorting out the house and Jake joins us after work. At this rate, I’ll need the whole driveway to display all the stuff for sale.

  Working with Allie is surprisingly easy to do. She’s organized, and we make a lot of progress. But the first two days she’s playing some boyband crap that makes my ears bleed. So I declared that I’m in charge of the music for the next couple days, and she’s less than thrilled with Korn, Disturbed, Metallica, and Slipknot. At times, it looks like she’s going to run from the room screaming, while I find Mike and Jake nodding their heads along to the beat.

  “This is awful,” Allie complains every time a new song comes on.

  “Sorry, can’t hear you,” is my standard reply. It works really well, since she just goes back to sorting and gives up lecturing me about what she calls good music.

  ***

  By Friday we are mostly done, so we take the day off. It allows me to visit my father without having to explain myself.

  I meet him in the same room again. This time there is no guy tearing a book apart. The orderlies are standing in the same spots, watching us like hawks. This really isn’t the most relaxing environment.

  “Hey…” I pause, not knowing how to address him.

  “You can call me Noah. I mean, you can call me Dad, but I understand if you don’t want to.” He looks up at me, his face betraying his words. I can tell he’d love that.

  “It’s not that, it’s just weird. It’ll take me some time to get used to it. Okay?” I sit down next to him, while talking. “I brought you the pictures.” I pull them out of my pocket and hand them to him. It’s only six pictures, but he takes his time looking through them.

  “I haven’t seen these in years. Your grandmother could never remember to bring them. Or, maybe she was worried what it would do to me to see them.”

  I’m not sure what to reply, but he continues, looking at the pictures.

  “You were such a fussy baby. Always crying. We barely knew what to do to calm you down.” His voice gets a hard edge. I guess the memories are difficult for him. I wish I knew what happened, why he didn’t come for me.

  “Noah, can I ask what happened with you and Mom?”

  For a moment, he just looks at the pictures before he turns his face toward me. His eyes are staring into space. I turn around to make sure there is no one standing there. But it’s just my father being lost in his own world.

  I clear my throat, and it seems to bring him back to the here and now. He blinks a few times before he starts talking, his voice pleading. “I can’t, Son. I can’t talk about it. It’s…it’s too much. I’m sorry. Please, don’t make me talk about it.”

  “It’s okay.” I pat his shoulder, frustration making my skin itch.

  For the rest of our meeting, we talk about my grandmother’s house. He’s asking questions and I reply, but it’s awkward. The earlier topic is still hanging in the air, both of us aware of it.

  After about an hour, he starts to stand.

  “I’m really tired, Ben. I’m sorry. I know you were probably expecting more of your old man. More of a man.”

  “It’s okay, really. Don’t worry.” I’m lying. Yes, I was expecting more. I was expecting something. I wanted to find out what happened and get to know him. Instead, we’re beating around the bush and talking about the stupid house. But I guess this is who he is. I just might not always like it.

  Chapter 11

  Different Life, Different Girl

  The next day Allie, Jake, Mike, and I set up the yard sale. We’ve announced it online and Allie distributed some flyers in the neighborhood. Hopefully we’ll have a big turn-out.

  Allie even got some neighbor kids to set up a lemonade stand so they can make some money and keep our shoppers refreshed. I have to hand it to her—she knows how to organize this stuff.

  We’ve just gotten settled under the canopy Jake and I dragged over from Mike’s when a tall, slim girl pulls up in front of his house. She adjusts her hair in the side mirror, checks her makeup, and then walks over to us. She has long, dark hair and a killer body.

  Before I can ask who it is, Allie is out of her chair, bouncing toward her.

  “Hey, little sis.’” Allie singsongs, despite her sister towering over her.

  “Hey, Al. So I’m supposed to work my charm here?” she asks, while walking toward us with one arm around Allie. As soon as she spots me, her gaze starts traveling up and down my body. “I think I can do that.”

  She is blatantly checking me out and judging by the dazzling smile she throws my way, she likes what she sees. She strolls over to me, reaching out for a handshake and holding my hand a bit longer than necessary. “I’m Kylie. Allie’s sister. You must be Ben?”

  “Yeah, nice to meet you, Kylie.” My knee-jerk reaction is to blow her off, to make it clear I’m not interes
ted. My mind already wandered to Frankie, drawing comparisons. As pretty as Kylie is, she doesn’t have that certain something Frankie does. The thing that makes the air catch in my throat and my heart beat faster.

  But as I look up into her smiling face, I decide I need to move on. Frankie is in Northampton, undoubtedly living her life. I can’t sit around here forever, lusting after her like some sad, little emo fucker.

  So I smile back and pull out a chair for her next to me, deciding to not burn any bridges right away, but see where this might go.

  We don’t get to talk much since the first shoppers show up five minutes later. It’s complete craziness from then on. People storm the tables, each of them eager to get stuff that will just end up in their garage or attic, but it suits me as long as they are willing to pay for it.

  Kylie does her job well. She lays her charm on really thick, smiling and complimenting the buyers on their great taste. And they all seem to believe her. Between her good looks and her friendly and flirty attitude, the buyers don’t stand a chance, especially not the male ones.

  At times it’s so exaggerated I can’t stop myself from rolling my eyes. Frankie would never do that. She’d threaten to kick someone in the balls if they didn’t buy something, but she’d never try to flirt her way to the goal.

  Fuck, Frankie isn’t here. Frankie and I aren’t anything. I fucked her and then I fucking bailed. I need to stop torturing myself. It’s not like I need to fall in love with Kylie, but maybe we could have some fun. God knows I could use some of that.

  ***

  By evening, nearly everything is gone and Mike starts counting the money, while the rest of us just slouch back in our chairs.

  “I think we should go for a drink.” Kylie looks over at me, a hopeful smile on her face.

  “Oooh, that’s a good idea.” Allie suddenly seems re-energized, clapping her hands and looking between Jake and me.