“Oh, shut it. You know what she sees in him. We all know what she sees in him. He is damn fine. Did you see that fitted shirt he wore today? With the cuffed sleeves? Oh, ladies, that was too much office porn. I wouldn’t mind being a notch in his bedpost either.” Julie—Mrs. Dance Mom, drive-by PTO volunteer, and president of our office Jason Momoa fan club—said, popping her red-stained lips wide and fanning herself to ease that hot flush tingeing her alabaster cheeks. She was knower of all things man-sexy and a self-proclaimed expert in social media background investigation. Unlike Mina and Nadine, she wasn’t single. All talk and fantasy, but she never crossed the cheating line.
“We do all know,” Nadine said, side-eyeing them. “You all beg her to dish almost every time we’re out. She’s already told us she’s fine with not being exclusive.”
“You mean, she’s fine with him not being exclusive,” Deandra said then turned her large brown eyes to me. She was the calmest of them and looked the role too, with gentle features and short curly hair. Her demeanor matched her mama bear appearance—she always looked out for everyone. “You haven’t mentioned anyone else. It’s the one-sided part that makes us worried for you, hon. Especially when we see him flirting his way around the building.”
“I’m fine. He’s fine. It’s fine,” I mumbled.
“Yes, we know he’s fine,” Nadine said as Julie chuckled into her glass. Nadine arched her neat brows and shot Julie a look then continued, “But you most definitely are not. Something else is up. We’ve known you long enough. Tell it.”
“I went to my best friend’s wake on Sunday.” I let the words spill like the tears had every night of the week, then quickly looked around the bar area, searching for that lying waiter who still hadn’t brought my next drink.
“Oh God! I’m so sorry,” they all said in a whispered chorus. Then Nadine added, “Merilyn?”
“She’s the one,” I confirmed. There were no other friends I spoke of to them. College acquaintances had vanished after I’d turned down enough party and drink offers. My routine was good for me.
“She’s that Adventure Life chick, right?”
“Yeah.” I tipped back my empty glass again, needing something to occupy my hands.
“Oh, that’s so sad. She’s seen and done so many incredible things, but she was so young,” Julie said, already having pulled up Mer’s channel on her phone. Deandra and Mina huddled closer to her in their booth. “How did it happen?”
“Ruptured brain aneurysm. Her parents said she’d mentioned having headaches but hadn’t thought much about them. She didn’t make it to the hospital.”
Nadine’s soft hand wrapped around mine. “Oh, honey. So this is why you called in on Monday and Tuesday. It’s been a long week for you. I’m glad you still came out with us. It’s good to talk about these things.”
“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have used my last two sick days but …” I looked over at the others as they watched one of Mer’s videos. I’d been avoiding those since the wake, unable to convince myself to watch her yet. After a quick swipe of my phone, I was again staring down at my texts.
“That’s not the only thing, though, is it?” Nadine whispered, noticing what really had my attention tonight. “Who’s Caleb?”
The unfamiliar name made the others abandon the video and focus on me again, but I didn’t care. There was nothing for me to hide. “Mer’s brother. I hadn’t seen him in a few years.”
“And you saw him Sunday. Is it too painful to reconnect with him over her death?”
“No, it’s not that. We, uh …” All of their eyes seemed to pop from their heads. Maybe that first drink was exaggerating things, but they were staring hard now, as if I meant … “Oh, God, no. We kissed. Nothing more.” Although, there was no telling what might have happened if we hadn’t been interrupted. “His girlfriend—or fiancée maybe—walked into the room during and freaked, understandably.”
They all cringed with audible hisses.
“Yeah,” I agreed, feeling the hit all over again. “He was drunk. We both were emotional. We hugged and then it happened. We have … a bit of history. But he didn’t tell me he was involved. I’m still so angry.”
“He texted. To apologize?” Nadine pushed on.
“He apologized, and he’s asking to talk. He has something important to discuss.” I rolled my eyes. Men. I swear.
“Oh, he wants something more, all right,” Julie said with a suggestive laugh that was interrupted by the appetizer delivery.
“Would you ladies like anything else right now?” the waiter asked, setting the stack of tiny plates down then taking a step back.
I made a show of drinking my still very empty fucking drink.
“Oh!” he said, catching on to my desperation as he hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “Did he not bring it out yet? The bartender said he would. Hang on a second?”
“Yeah, of course,” Mina said, answering for me with a flick of her hair before looking toward the bar.
“So what are you gonna do, love?” Deandra asked, her head tilting with the weight of sympathy.
Sympathy was something I didn’t want. I needed to kick my butt out of the sad gutter, especially about Caleb. That was what the night out was for. I’d already planned on it. “I’m gonna give the bartender the meanest gaze imaginable when he brings my drink. Then I’m gonna down it. Maybe I’ll stay for one more. But after that, I’m going home to my apartment to wait for Brent, who’s scheduled to fuck me senseless tonight.”
They all gasped except for Nadine, who narrowed her eyes.
“What? Tonight was exactly what I needed. Drinks with you ladies. Scheduled dicking from Brent. No drama. No strings. No hassle. My life. My routine.”
“Well, that sounds amazing.” Julie let out a sigh. “I might have to put the kids to bed early so I can get a good dicking too. If my husband isn’t passed out on the couch already.” They all started to giggle, and I felt the corners of my lips lift for the first time in almost a week.
As the girls started to talk across from us, Nadine leaned in close and whispered, “I can’t help but to think you might need a little more than your normal plans.”
“Nope, that’s all I need. I’ll miss her like crazy. Going so long without seeing her wasn’t so bad knowing she’d visit again. Now, though, I can’t help but regret the times I could have done more to see her. I don’t know. Maybe that time away was a good thing. Maybe it softened the loss of her a little.”
Nadine sat silent, letting my words linger for a few moments before she ripped me open. “I know you’ll miss her. But I’m sure he’s missing her too. And maybe, just maybe, that accidental kiss was only an accident, no matter what happened in your past. Maybe you should let him apologize the right way because, like you, he’s grieving too. Don’t let this be one more thing on both of your minds during your loss.”
I heaved a breath, holding in tears so hard my eyes felt like they might implode.
“Ahem!” Mina cleared her throat and glanced around the table pointedly. “Well, hi there.”
I looked over at what had caught her attention. Ah, the bartender. Holding my margarita.
“I’m so sorry this is late,” he said, with a smug look on his face that suggested he wasn’t sorry at all. Though, giving him the benefit of the doubt, he might have been before he caught all the googly eyes at the table. “You see, I wanted to bring this to you myself.” He reached past Nadine to place the drink in front of me.
Sure, he was cute. Clean-shaven. Shaggy hair. Toned arms. Trim waist. He was getting Julie’s eyes of approval, that was for sure. But he wasn’t for me. Too unpredictable and lousy timing.
“When it rains …” I murmured, noticing all the eyes had shifted to me. I grabbed the drink, lifting it toward Mr. Handsome Bartender with a sarcastic smile instead of the scowl he deserved for nearly killing my buzz. “This one’s for Mer.” Then I licked the salt rim, tipped it back, and downed half.
Though Mer was likely
laughing and rolling her eyes at me at that moment while ogling the bartender with the other ladies. But no, not me. I needed my normal back and that was starting with tonight. No shifting off the paved routine. Drink, home, a round or two with the fuckboy, relax the rest of the weekend, let the Mer tears dry up, forget about the kiss with Caleb, forget about the way he smelled, about the way he held me, about his sadness, my sadness—
Whack! The kick caught me off guard, making me spill my drink.
“Ouch!” I snapped, glaring across the table at the bitches I was close to hurting, only to realize they were all looking awkwardly between me and the bartender. “I’m sorry, what?”
The bartender coughed uneasily. “I knew I recognized you from the video. From the wake. You were friends with that Adventure Life girl, right? Merilyn Samuels?”
“Wake video?” I gaped. Wow. Things kept getting better and better.
4
______________
Caleb
-now-
Staring up at the thin, iron-railed balconies and the red brick facade of the apartment building, my gut dropped. I breathed deeply and closed my eyes. “You have to do this. Dammit. You have to do this. She will understand. She will understand.”
“She’s not going to understand,” a raspy voice cut through my murmurs, scaring the crap out of me.
I popped my eyes open and jumped back, dropping the goods in my hands—a bag of croissants, coffee holder with both coffees, and the single daisy. The splashes of coffee narrowly missed hitting an older lady who was bending over to grab a delivery box on the stoop.
“I’m sorry?” I asked, letting out a grunt as I stared at my ruined peace offering. Shit. Well, half-ruined. The croissants were in a bag. And the daisy … I picked it up and frowned when its head fell over in a sad arc.
“The girl,” she said, tightening her paisley robe then crossing her arms while keeping the door propped open with her hip. “Cheap breakfast and a single flower.” She tsked at me and shook her head of poofy brown hair like my grandmother used to. “That won’t make her understand.”
“You’re right,” I agreed blandly, bending over to pick up my mess. The lady likely had all kinds of boyfriend offenses running through her mind, pegging me for any number of them. I was guilty of most at some point in my life, but I doubted she knew anything specific. Despite the shit I’d put Celia through in high school, she’d never trashed me to others. Now, though? Well, maybe I wasn’t sure.
I checked the croissants and tossed the coffee containers into the trash can beside the entry door. As I attempted to pass the woman, her arm shot out across the frame, blocking me like some apartment gatekeeper.
“Leann?” she asked, pursing her lips. “She definitely won’t understand.”
I pointed upward to the interior stairs in a silent question. “No, no. Celia is who I’m here to see. Apartment five?”
Her eyebrows shot up and her heavy-lidded eyes flitted toward the gray BMW I’d parked my Silverado beside. It wasn’t new, but it was in nice condition. Celia’s? I hadn’t gotten to see what she’d driven to the wake. Regrettably, yet deservedly, I’d been getting my ass handed to me by Jess when Celia had left.
The woman’s bemused look morphed into amused with a tiny smirk. “Okay then,” she said simply, moving to the first door to the right with a neighborhood watch decal under the number one. Right before she closed herself inside, she let out a soft chuckle.
The greeting was annoying, but the thought of Celia having her for a neighbor was oddly comforting. I was willing to bet she either had a shotgun racked beside her door, a baseball bat, or at the very least a heat-seeking slipper. I shook off the nosy neighbor irritation and took the remaining stairs fast, not wanting to prolong things further. Extra time only gave me more of a chance to punk out. This was all so crazy. She had to hate me for … just about everything. And here I was, preparing to knock on her door after she ignored my texts and calls to deliver more bad news and apologize for … just about everything.
Stopping in front of apartment five, I reached around to my back pocket first, checking to make sure the notebook was still folded and stuffed halfway inside. Then I took in the no-frills appearance of her door. With a glance across the hall to another neighbor’s, which was tagged with several peeled stickers and had a potted plant outside, I knew they were likely breaking the apartment regs. Celia would have decorated if she were allowed. Follow the rules, color in the lines—that was her, no matter how much we tried to unwind her.
Last, I did a brief check of myself. Non-work jeans and polo both clean. Boots sawdust free after their brush down this morning. Bag of croissants. And one sad motherfucking daisy.
“Dammit, Mer,” I whispered, then lifted my fist and knuckled the door before I lost my nerve.
It was a moment before I heard a muffled voice inside. Switching the food and daisy from one hand to the other, I wiped my sweaty palms onto my jeans and stood up straighter, preparing for the disappointment, the hate, and maybe more than words to fly at me.
Instead, when the door opened wide, I was met with a dude’s stare, not Celia’s angered one.
He gave me a look-over, and I did the same. Solid build. Dark hair. Same height as me. Ordinarily, I would extend a hand, but there was no way in hell that was happening. His business shirt was untucked and half-buttoned, his jacket folded over an arm. I met his curious eyes before he took a second glance at my hand holding the croissant bag and the daisy.
When he only lifted an eyebrow instead of speaking, I finally snapped out of it. I thought it could have been the wrong apartment until I spotted a few recognizable black and white pictures hanging on the far wall behind him. Fuck. “Is Celia here?”
“Yeah,” he replied with a stiff nod. “Hang here a sec.” Leaving the door halfway open, he moved back inside and grabbed a set of keys from the edge of a coffee table. “C! I’ve gotta jet. And someone’s at your door.”
“I—what?” came her weak reply. After another few moments, she walked into view at his side, her eyes zeroing in on mine.
“Celia,” I greeted her with a tight smile, not daring to use her nickname despite her wide eyes and the wild morning look I’d seen so many times throughout our high school years.
Her long tangle of sleep hair waved a little as she shook her head, closed her eyes, and bit down on her bottom lip. She didn’t bother responding, but her eyes opened to him instead as he leaned a little closer and palmed her face.
He whispered something, and she replied, “No, I’m fine. It’s fine.”
“Okay,” he said then he tilted her chin up and kissed her.
I blinked longer than necessary, knowing I should have looked away entirely. The memory of how her lips had felt on mine not even a week ago seemed to hold me hostage, though. A copious amount of whiskey may have been coursing through every part of me that day, blurring my very existence and creating a haze of chatter inside my head—spoken words of sympathy and mourning from others as well as thoughts of anger and agony from myself—but I remembered every fucking thing about her as if she were the rain within, clearing it all away.
Maybe I was as stupid as I’d ever been. She was involved with someone too. Of course she was. Clearly, sorrow had edged us both over a moral line, making us forget those who stood between us.
He broke away from her, and I couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes narrowed a bit as if they held an unspoken question. Before I could think more on it, he was walking toward me to leave.
I stepped aside, expecting him to introduce himself, to solidify his claim to her with an introduction to top off the kiss they shared. Only, he kept walking, eyeing me up briefly as he passed. When I looked back inside, Celia had her arms crossed over her thin tank top, guarding herself and her bra-less breasts from me. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed them and everything else as soon as she’d appeared. Her body was both familiar and not, and I couldn’t keep my eyes from looking, wanting to remember
all that I once knew, wanting to explore all that had changed … wanting what I’d never fully had.
“What do you want, Caleb?”
So much. “Can we talk? It won’t take long,” I admitted. If she was dead set on getting rid of me, I knew it to be true. As soon as she said the word, I’d be back in my truck, taking the two-hour drive home. I wasn’t exactly sure how I’d feel about that, though. Torn? Lost?
“Give me a second,” she said and disappeared behind the farthest door.
I moved into the living room, gravitating to the black and white canvas pictures. Looking over the silhouetted Ferris wheel first and then over at the second one with the face of a cliff and water below, I recalled exactly when she’d taken them. The sound of a car engine distracted me, pulling me toward the sliding glass door with its vertical blinds and pale green curtains spread wide. As I peered down at the parking lot, that BMW drove away. I chuckled. The neighbor had been ready for some fireworks.
“I guess it’s my turn to ask you why you’re laughing,” Celia said, drawing my attention to the kitchen.
“It’s nothing. Thinking about the pictures,” I replied, steering clear of the boyfriend and neighbor topics.
She glanced at the pictures as she opened a Tylenol bottle. After popping a pill into her mouth, she grabbed a glass from the counter and washed it down with a quick swallow.
“Rough night?” I couldn’t help but ask. In her minute away, she had pulled back her tousled hair, and also slipped into a bra. She looked tired and sad, and still as beautiful as ever.
“I had one too many.” Her eyes cut down to the stuff in my hand.
“Oh, here.” I set the bag and daisy onto the breakfast bar between us. “The coffees decided they wanted no part of this, so they offed themselves outside your building.”
Her lip twitched the smallest amount, and her fingers bypassed the bag and lifted the sad daisy. Those eyes seemed distant as they studied the thin petals. “You drive all the way from Ellville?”
Senior Year Bucket List Page 3