When You're Ready

by Danielle, Britni

  I could sense Scout was pissed, so I gave his hand two quick squeezes and pressed myself into his back. “Let’s go find your friends, baby.”

  “Baby? She’s your girl?” Bear laughed like he’d heard the funniest joke ever. “Does that mean I can’t have this one when you’re done, Flex? Because you know how you do. You don’t keep bitches around long enough to—“

  “Shut the fuck up,” Scout growled, tugging his hand loose from mine. I’d never seen him get so upset before, and in that moment, I knew what he said earlier was true. Scout would take someone down if necessary, and I didn’t want him getting into any trouble because some idiot couldn’t hold his liquor, or his tongue.

  “Scout, I think we should keep looking for your friends,” I said, slipping my hand in his and tugging him away from Bear. “I think I see another jacket like yours over there.”

  “Okay,” Scout said, keeping his eyes squarely on the oversized man. “Bear…I’ll see you around.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a smirk on his face, “you will.”

  We continued weaving through the crowd, looking for Scout’s friends but I could tell he was pissed. He was mumbling curse words under his breath and the tops of his ears and cheeks were bright red.

  “You okay?” Scout ignored my question and continued walking, scanning the crowd for Jason and Fernando, or maybe Bear. Scout had told me about his old neighborhood and how it wasn’t exactly a nice place to grow up, but I’d never seen anger cloud his eyes until he was face to face with Bear. I didn’t know that Scout, and from the look he gave that gigantic man, I didn’t want to.

  “Scout?” I asked trying to get him to slow down and look at me.

  “Yeah…” He grabbed a beer from a nearby cooler, popped it opened, and took a swig. “I’m fine.”

  He said he was okay, but Scout’s face was still set into a serious grimace. “You don’t look fine.”

  He took another long pull from the bottle and finally met my eyes. “I am,” he leaned in and gave me a peck on the lips, “promise.”

  I wanted to believe him, wanted to believe running into Bear would be the lowlight of the day, so I ignored the tingling in my gut that told me we should hop back on his bike and go back to the comfort of his bed. My mother swore by her womanly intuition, but considering she was in Texas probably still surfing from one shitty boyfriend to the next, what did she really know?

  I swallowed my ambivalence, hopeful that we’d recover from the rocky start. I grabbed Scout’s face and stared directly into his soft brown eyes looking for reassurance that he really was all right. “Okay…as long as you’re fine, I’m fine.”

  He leaned his forehead to mine and circled his arms around my waist. “I’m—“

  “Well, well, well,” a man’s voice boomed from behind Scout. He circled around us, giving Scout and I the once over. I braced myself for another confrontation, but before I could intervene, the man pulled me into a hug. “You must be Nola.” I looked toward Scout, but to my surprise he was smiling. “Damn, man, how come you didn’t tell me she looked this good?”

  “Watch it, Jay. You’re a little too close to my girl.”

  “I’m Jason,” the man said, taking my hand and kissing it in an overly grand gesture. “Scout’s handsome, clever, and”—he cleared his throat—“very single friend.”

  “Seriously, man?” Scout said moving between us. “Don’t start this shit today. I already ran into your boy and I’m not in the mood.”

  Jason turned toward Scout, but he was still holding onto my hand. “Which one?”

  “Bear,” Scout nearly growled. “That motherfu—“ he stopped, looked at me and adjusted his tone. “That guy was trying to push up on Nola. He was grinning in her face, and staring at her like he was ready to pounce.”

  Jason shook his head and chuckled. “And what happened?”

  “Nothing happened,” Scout said, nodding in my direction.

  Jason bobbed his head like he could read Scout’s mind, then he turned to me again. “See, you’re already a good influence on this guy.”

  Before I could say anything, another man walked up and pulled Scout into one of those one-armed hugs men do when they want to show they care, but are still manly. He was shorter than Jason and Scout, but in impeccable shape like the two of them.

  “About time you got here,” he said, pounding Scout on the back. Then he turned to me, glanced back at Scout, smiled, and introduced himself. “I’m Fernando. You must be Nola?”

  “Of course that’s Nola, fool,” Jason said playfully shoving Fernando.

  I watched the three of them rib each other for a minute, completely caught up in their own friendship, until a woman walked up and shook her head.

  “Don’t mind those three. They’re a mess, but you’ll get used to it,” she said, staring at the old friends. She looked tiny compared to them, but she had a presence about her that exuded strength. When she smiled at me I noticed she was downright beautiful, with long, dark hair that fell to the middle of her back, light brown eyes, and a stud in her nose. She looked like an old time pin-up girl. “You’re…Nola?” she asked, extending her hand, “I’m Zoe.” She glanced over her shoulder, “Fernando’s fiancé.”

  “Oh! Nice to meet you.”

  “These boys aren’t giving you any trouble are they?”

  I looked back at the three of them huddled around each other deep in conversation. “No, not too much.”

  “Good,” she leaned in close and dropped her voice, “so….you and Scout…”

  “What about me?” he said, walking up behind me and slipping his arms around my waist.

  “God, do you have supersonic hearing or something? Shesh!” Zoe said, chuckling. “C’mon, Nola, let’s go somewhere so we can really talk.” She winked at me and grabbed my hand, attempting to tug me away from Scout. He tightened his grip on my waist and for a moment I felt like a ragdoll being pulled in opposite directions.

  “I think it’s better if Nola stays with me, Zoe. You know how people get at this thing.”

  “Relax, Scout, we’ll just be over there.” She pointed to a group of umbrellas set up on the beach. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my eye on her.”

  I turned to him and cupped his face. “I’ll be fine. You go have fun with your friends.”

  Scout scrubbed a hand over his chin and kissed the top of my head. “Fine…but keep your phone on.”

  “Damn, we’ll just be a few feet away not on another continent,” Zoe said, still laughing.

  He ignored her comment and met my eyes. “Keep it on, okay?”

  “Okay.” I gave Scout a quick kiss on the cheek before Zoe won the tug-of-war and pulled me off for a little beer and gossip. She looped her arm through mine and guided me toward the sand. When we got to a cluster of yellow umbrellas we kicked off our shoes and I dug my toes into the cool earth.

  “So tell me,” Zoe said, handing me a beer, “how did you manage to get Scout to settle down?”

  “I don’t know,” I shrugged, not exactly sure how I’d stumbled on such an amazing guy either. Before I met Scout I’d been so terrified of getting my heart broken that I avoided men like the plague, and for good reason. Most of the guys I came across at work or on campus were major league assholes, but Scout was different. He sure looked like he could be a pretentious jerk like all the rest, but he was the most caring man I’d ever met…besides my dad. Scout was so much like my father—proud, thoughtful, incredibly charismatic—that at times it scared me.

  “I worked a cocktail party at his house and we’ve sort of been hanging out ever since, ” I said, taking a swig of my beer hoping to dull the mixture of emotions about Scout and my father threatening to flood my eyes.

  “Damn girl. Well, congrats. Scout’s a good guy, I’m glad he found someone like you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Normal,” she said, chuckling. “Not a waitress-slash-model-actress.”

  I winced. “I am a waitress.”

&
nbsp; “Yeah, but you’re only doing it to pay for school, right? Not to get discovered,” Zoe said using air quotes. “Scout used to have a thing for models. Actually,” she paused to sip her beer, “they seemed to have a thing for him and he just tolerated them. But you,” she pointed the bottle in my direction, “you’re different, and that’s a very good thing.”

  Part of me wanted to pepper Zoe with a million questions about all of the girls Scout dated, but the other part—the less confident, more paranoid part—didn’t want to know. Scout looked like a guy who dated drop dead gorgeous women, and I didn’t need to be reminded that I couldn’t compete with the women he was used to.

  “What about you and Fernando?” I asked, hoping to shimmy my way out of the spotlight. “How long have you guys been together?”

  Zoe’s perfect pout stretched into a grin. “Since we were 20, so about six years.”

  “Wow, and now he’s finally ready to get married.”

  “No, now I’m finally ready to get married,” she corrected. “Fernando proposed right after we met, but I said no. As a matter of fact, I turned him down a bunch of times until now.”

  “Why?” I was genuinely intrigued. The story usually went that women had to cajole men into marrying them after years of hinting that they’d like to “take things to the next level” or start a family. But really, I had no clue how these things actually worked. All of my relationship lessons came from my mother’s failed couplings, or from rom-com heroines, and those women always wanted a ring. I eyed Zoe like she was some kind of rare bird, some kind of weird, but awesome woman from a different time, or at the very least, a different mindset.

  “We were way too young. I mean at 20, what do you really know about love?”

  “That it’s dangerous,” I mumbled to myself.

  “Dangerous?” she asked, and I was surprised, and a little embarrassed, she heard me. “In what way?”

  Maybe it was the slight buzz from the beer, or perhaps it was the fact that it actually felt good to talk to Zoe, but instead of clamping my mouth shut and keeping my fears under lock and key I decided to share. “My parents were madly in love. I’d always see them kissing or dancing or laughing or cuddled up. Even though they’d been together for years they still behaved like two teenagers completely infatuated with each other.”

  “That doesn’t seem so dangerous,” Zoe said. “It’s actually very sweet.”

  “Yeah, but then my dad died and my mother completely fall apart. She didn’t even come out of her room for months, and when she finally did, it was like I didn’t exist.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Ten. I lost both my parents when I was ten.”

  Zoe turned to face me, but I didn’t meet her eyes. “But you’re mom’s still alive, right?”

  “Technically.” I swallowed the last of my beer and kept talking. “But it’s not the same. Her life is all about partying, her stupid boyfriends, and getting drunk. It’s like she’s reliving her teenage years or something, and that doesn’t leave much time for me.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes as my mind drifted to my mother. Before my father died I was her “little lady,” her “Nola darling,” but after my dad passed away I was just a girl she’d given birth to, but cut loose. I tried not to think of her too often, but it never worked. I was obsessed with Sandy Jane and my overwhelming, and perhaps irrational, fear of becoming her. I didn’t want to be an irresponsible mess of a woman like she was. I didn’t want to be the type of person who would walk away from the only person they were supposed to love forever, so I tried to shield myself from getting too close to anyone at all, and in the process I’d become completely fucked up.

  “Losing the love of her life had to be hard, though,” Zoe said, cutting into my thoughts. “Maybe it broke her.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” I agreed hesitantly. “But it broke me too.”

  I took out the phone Scout bought me and began absentmindedly scrolling through the apps. He’d insisted on getting me an iPhone even though I thought it was unnecessary and way too pricey. He got it anyway, though, so we could use FaceTime whenever we were apart, but I suspected he just wanted me to have something really, really nice for once.

  I guess it was fitting Zoe and I were talking about my mother since she’d left me several messages for me while my old phone was on the fritz. I was curious to see what she wanted, but I couldn’t actually bring myself to listen to her voicemails, convinced she was just asking for money…again.

  My mother may have abandoned me, but I couldn’t quite turn my back on her. When I was a teenager, I worked a bunch of afterschool jobs to sock away cash for college and buy food, but I’d also pay the light bill from time to time or give my mother a few dollars whenever one of her boyfriends split. After I moved to L.A., she never called to ask me about college or how I was adjusting to California, but she’d ring me up every so often to ask for cash, and each time, no matter how strapped I was, I would give it to her. She was still my mother after all.

  “Hey, I’m going to grab another beer, want one?” Zoe asked, interrupting my thoughts for a second time.

  “Sure…” I said, suddenly wondering what the heck my mother wanted this time. “I think I should eat something, though, maybe I’ll come with you.”

  “No need, girl, you relax. I’ll grab us a couple of burgers too,” Zoe said already on her way down the beach.

  All alone, curiosity about my mother’s calls started gnawing at me again. This time, I couldn’t ignore the urge, so I dialed my voicemail and braced myself for yet another financial request. Thankfully Scout had paid my tuition so I had a little breathing room in my budget, but I couldn’t keep bailing my mom out, no matter how much extra money I had. I mean, when would it end? Would I still be fielding these same calls when I was 30 or 40 and had a family of my own?

  I punched in my password and waited for my mother’s Midwestern twang to light up my ears. Even though we’d moved countless times, my mother somehow still retained her accent, which made her sound a little like Suze Orman when she got all worked up. I took a deep breath and listened to the first message.

  “Nola, it’s your mother. Call me.”

  She left that same message a few more times before she started to get annoyed and left a terse voicemail that included just the right amount of mom guilt. “Nola, this is your mother, again. I’ve been trying to reach you all week, call me back, okay?”

  I hit delete and went on to the next one, but before I could listen to it, I noticed the sun had suddenly disappeared. I glanced up to see if the clouds were rolling in, but instead met the gaze of a gigantic man with an equally gigantic grin on his face.

  “So I didn’t get your name before,” Bear said, stroking his beard in a way that made me feel creeped out.

  “I didn’t tell you what it was.”

  “Feisty!” he chuckled, “I see why Flex likes you. He always did like a bitch with some attitude.”

  I rolled my eyes, but didn’t speak. I’d been around this guy for all of three minutes and he’d already dropped the b-word more than once. He was clearly a Neanderthal who needed to be avoided at all costs.

  “So, how long have you been sleeping with Flex?”

  “Excuses you?”

  “Fucking,” he said, reaching for an even more vulgar word than before, “How long?”

  “Why don’t you go ask him?”

  “Well, I could,” he said, kneeling in front of me, “but I’d rather ask you. You’re way better looking than that fucker.”

  I sighed and rolled my eyes again. “Listen—“

  “Bear,” he said, pounding his chest.

  “Whatever. You should really go find Scout. I’m kinda busy right now,” I said, turning my attention back to my phone.

  “Maybe we could be busy together,” he said, placing one of his enormous hands on my leg.

  I knocked it off and stared him down. “I don’t think so. You know I’m with Scout, right?”


  He started to chuckle. “And?”

  “And I don’t think he’d appreciate this conversation.”

  “And I don’t think I really give a fuck,” he spat.

  “Well, why don’t we ask him?” I stood, picked up my boots, and turned to leave, but Bear grabbed my arm.

  “Now why would you want to go do that? We’re just having fun. Don’t you like to have fun?” He licked his lips and I tried to yank my arm away but he held on tight. “Flex and I used to have a lot of fun back in the day, fucking bitches and getting into all types of trouble. Why don’t you sit down so I can tell you all about it.”

  “I don’t think so. If I want to know anything I’ll ask Scout.”

  He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “You expect him to tell you the truth?”

  “Yes,” I said, reflexively. “Of course.”

  “So you think he’ll tell you about the crazy shit we did?”

  I nodded. “If I want to know…”

  Bear pulled himself to his feet and came closer to me. “So you think he’ll come clean about the lying, the robberies, the girls we banged, and the—”

  “Get the fuck away from her!” Scout yelled, running up to Bear and me. Bear finally let go of my arm, which now had a red imprint where his hand once was. Scout saw the marks on my arm and shoved Bear, hard. “Walk the fuck away.”

  “Why? We were having fun. I was about to tell your girl about all of the shit we used to get into.”

  Scout turned to me. “Baby, you remember where my bike is, right?”

  “Yes…”

  “Go wait for me there, okay?”

  “But,” I peered over his shoulder at Bear who was cracking his knuckles and stretching like he was preparing for a fight, “why don’t you come with me?”

  “I’ll meet you there in a sec, baby. I just need to take care of something real quick.”

  “Just come with me.”

  “I will, in a minute. You just go ahead, okay?”

  I looked between Scout and Bear and the bad feeling I had the first time I saw the pair square off in the parking lot returned. I grabbed Scout’s hand and tried to tug him backward. “Scout, just come--”