Crashing Into You

by Juliana Stevens

"No," Denise interrupted, holding a hand up. "I came here to thank you for last night. Everything you said was true, Shelly. I also came to apologize. I haven't been the best friend I should've been, I know that."

  "Not without reason. I shouldn't have pushed you like I did. I was frustrated because you were having an emotional breakdown- don't give me that look, you were- and still, you weren't going to tell me what was going on with you. But I could've been a better friend about it."

  "You're a great friend," Denise insisted.

  "Maybe, but you said you didn't want to talk about it, so I should've left it at that."

  "Like you said, I never want to talk about anything emotional, so I can understand why you got so frustrated. You were right about everything you said."

  "I know I was right," Shelly chuckled. "I'm only sorry I was so pushy about it."

  "I'm glad you were. Look at me, Shelly! You can see my arms and feet!"

  "I know, I never thought I'd see the day! It's sad that I'm so happy to see your feet!" Shelly said, and they both laughed.

  "Today was good for me," Denise said, serious now. "I think it's because I did something for myself that was just for me. I liked getting pampered today, but I feel guilty."

  "Why?" Shelly asked, scooting closer to her.

  "Because I don't deserve it." Denise blinked several times, trying not to cry. She hadn't meant to say it, but the words slipped out.

  "Why would you say that?" Shelly asked, her voice cracking.

  "I don't know. I went to bed last night with the same ache in my heart that's there every day. I wake up feeling the same way, but this morning was different from all the others because of the words you said last night. Even though Benny is no longer here, I still am. It has taken everything in me all these years to get through another day. Sometimes to get through another hour or another minute. I'm here to ask for your help. Please help me, Shelly."

  "I want to help you through this, I do. But, first..." Shelly's voice trailed off, and she looked nervous.

  "What?" Denise asked.

  "Start at the beginning. You need to tell me about Benny."

  "You're already going to be late."

  "Forget work. It can wait."

  "Are you sure? We can talk about this another time."

  "The moment is now," Shelly said, adamant.

  "Okay," Denise said nervously. At first, she didn't know what to say, but then the words poured out. "I was always shy, as you may have guessed. In school, I always had crushes on boys but if any of them ever liked me back, they didn't say anything. I sure wasn't about to be the first to ask someone out. I was an only child, raised by a single dad, and we were all we had in the way of family. Still, I never wanted to ask him about that sort of thing. I never had a real date until after I graduated high school. I had a few dates with a few guys that never went anywhere. I was a struggling artist as they say, working as a waitress so I could pay my student loans back and for my small apartment. On my twenty-fourth birthday, I was out celebrating with some girlfriends when I met him. Ben Campbell, my Benny. The bar we were at was full of beautiful women, but he asked me to dance." Denise's eyes were getting misty, remembering.

  "I'm not surprised!" Shelly practically squealed, breaking Denise from her train of thought. "You're gorgeous, but you act like you don't know it! I'd kill for all your curves and your dark, shiny hair. You don't even need makeup, with all your natural beauty."

  "Stop that," Denise said, blushing. "I need it."

  "No," Shelly insisted. "It would somehow take away from your eyes, they're very intense."

  "That isn't the first time I've been told that," Denise said, then chuckled. "Wow, I didn't mean to sound conceited or anything," she added, and Shelly smiled.

  "Let me guess, your Benny told you often?"

  "He did. He always complimented me. He was the best," she said, voice breaking, but she was determined to go on. "Shelly, you would've loved him. He was so much like you in some ways. He was sweet and funny, he was fearless. I can picture him now, he would tease me so hard. He always teased me… we laughed all the time. He brought me out of my shell back then. There was never anyone I felt more comfortable with aside from my dad and a few friends, but it was different with Benny. He actually hated that nickname. It was my private name for him, but I find I still use it on the rare occasion I talk about him."

  "What did he look like?" Shelly asked, happy to finally talk about Benny.

  Denise closed her eyes, remembering. "He was average height, with dark hair. He was so... he was made for me. We just fit, in every way. I can't..."

  "It's okay," Shelly said gently. "You don't have to go on."

  "The thing is, I could probably talk about him all day. He was my best friend, and we had six years of happy memories. It isn't like I'm making him out to be something he wasn't, I'm not making us out to be something more. He was that great, we were really that great together."

  "I'm sure you were. I don't doubt it for a second."

  "He was my first, you know. He was my only," Denise said after a short pause.

  "Wow," Shelly said, obviously struck, and they sat in silence for a few moments. "The Benny you describe to me sounds like someone special. I get why you haven't wanted to let him go, but I think he wouldn't have wanted you to live like this. He would want you to be happy, Denise. He would want you to move on and find love again."

  "I've wondered if he's watching over me, and if he's upset that I sold our house in Dallas and moved here on a whim."

  "Is that why you feel so guilty?" Shelly asked, and Denise shrugged.

  "I think so. We spent the day here once, you know, that's how I knew about Rockford."

  Shelly nodded. "I did know that."

  "Benny and I were trying to have a baby," Denise said, her voice sounding far away to her own ears. Her mind certainly was. "It had been a while, but we weren't having any luck. We both wanted a baby so much... it was all we talked about. How we would decorate the nursery, if we preferred a girl or a boy, what our baby would look like. We would get so excited thinking about starting a family, so we would be that much more disappointed every month when I wasn't pregnant."

  "I'm so sorry," Shelly said sincerely.

  "We didn't fight much," Denise continued, fighting back tears. "But this one was a doozy. We were both so frustrated! I don't remember the words spoken, try as I might these last few years. I don't remember how it started or why, just that it was bad. We always promised each other we wouldn't leave the house angry. We would fight, then five minutes later we would smooth things over. Usually, I was the one who stormed out, only to drive a few blocks, turn around and come right back home. He left that night, he's the one who left..."

  "Denise," Shelly whispered, reaching out to hug her.

  Denise pulled away first and wiped the tears from her face. "He was buying flowers," she said, her voice muffled.

  "What?" Shelly asked, handing her a tissue from the coffee table in front of them.

  "There was this convenience store that sold flowers up the road from our house. It was such a random thing and Benny always joked he would buy some if he ever got in serious trouble with me. It was a joke because the flowers were always half-dead, and what kind of convenience store sells flowers? Bouquets like that, I mean?" she asked, laughing shakily. "He was buying some when the store got robbed. That man killed the clerk and my husband for..." her voice trailed off, she couldn't go on anymore. She felt the loss all over again, and she dabbed her eyes with a tissue.

  Denise went to therapy when it happened to help her through the initial shock of it all. She'd been on long walks and cried a lot of tears. Nothing had been as therapeutic as telling Shelly, finally, all that had been bottled up for so long. She felt some of the ache ease when Shelly pulled her in for a hug, and she allowed herself to cry in her arms.

  Chapter Twelve

  Denise didn't know when she fell asleep or for how long, but she woke up on Shelly's couch with a blank
et over her. A note on the coffee table let her know Shelly went to work but she wanted Denise to make herself at home. She stumbled to the bathroom, gasping at her reflection in the mirror. She splashed water over her tear-streaked face and freshened up with some of Shelly's makeup.

  "Widow," Denise said to her reflection, not feeling the shock of the word as she had for all these years. She felt a little better. It had been nice to talk of Benny for a while, to remember him out loud instead of keeping their memories all to herself. She would miss and love him always, but at least she could talk to Shelly about him if she wanted. It felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and she would always be thankful to Shelly for that.

  Her stomach started growling, and she looked at her watch to see it was already six. She locked Shelly's door behind her when she left, so she could find a drive-through. Not wanting to go home after she ate a burger, Denise found herself at Lake Somerset. She sat on a bench and watched the water, feeling peaceful. She smiled, thinking of a day many years before, a perfect day with her love. It seemed fitting to come here, as she had when she first left Dallas, to say goodbye to Benny. She never really made her peace that day because she hadn't been ready, but something felt different now. The last four years she hadn't only been mourning the loss of Benny, but also of the family they never got to have. She never told anyone they were trying to have a baby before, not even her father. When she told Shelly earlier that day, it was as if she could breathe again, as though she hadn't in all these years. She felt she could say goodbye to that life finally. She would try to live again, and really see the world going on around her that had been almost a blur all this time. She knew it wouldn't be easy, that she might wake up in the morning with the familiar ache deep inside. But maybe, just maybe, it would get better every day. Especially now that she knew she didn't have to keep the pain inside all to herself. She smiled, remembering a feeling long lost to her. Hope.

  As she watched the setting sun, she was startled by Alex's voice. "You should be more aware of your surroundings," he said, sitting down next to her. "Didn't you hear my car or hear me walking towards you?"

  "No," she said honestly, not turning to face him.

  "I could've been someone with ill intentions."

  "Are you sure you aren't?" she asked teasingly, keeping her eyes straight ahead on the lake.

  "Have you been crying?" he asked, worry etching his voice. "Your eyes look a little puffy and you sound stopped up. Unless it's allergies? That was a bad assumption, right? I shouldn't have asked that."

  "Do you ever stop talking?" she asked, turning to face him but wishing she hadn't. He was much too good looking. He felt closer to her when they were sitting, she realized, since he couldn't tower above her.

  "It's a downfall of mine," he chuckled. "Probably after living with my mom so many years. I couldn't get a word in edgewise with her around, so I have to take advantage when she's not."

  "She does love to talk." Denise smiled at him. Did his eyes have to be so blue or his voice so alluring, no matter the words he said?

  "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

  "I think so. I mean, I think I will be."

  "I looked for you today at the bookstore."

  "I took the day off. Tomorrow, too, so you know. Just a fair warning, you'll be wasting your time," she teased.

  "Thanks," he laughed. "I didn't know you were here, honestly. I come here sometimes to get out of my head for a little while."

  "This is a good spot for it."

  "Is that why you're here?"

  "I was here to remember something. Or to forget," she answered, shrugging.

  "Sounds mysterious, and still the most you've opened up to me."

  "We've only just met," she said, smiling.

  "That's true. But we've had a few encounters now, and I never seem to get a decent response from you."

  "Today is a whole new day," she said, braving another look in his direction. Still cute as ever. "For me, that's a rare thing."

  "Today being a new day?" he asked, puzzled.

  "The metaphor, I meant."

  "I understand that feeling."

  "Why did you come to the bookstore today?"

  "I felt bad about last night," he said with sincerity. "I came on too strong. I promised myself I wouldn't flirt with you anymore, but I did anyway. You don't like it and I'm sorry. I really am."

  "Thanks." She fought the urge to pat his shoulder. No need to send mixed signals. "I can't say you're all to blame. I should take some credit."

  "Why should you? It's been clear from the get-go you don't even like me."

  "Do you want the truth?" she asked, and he nodded. "I don't think I did like you, even before I met you. Before the whole restaurant incident, I mean."

  "How is that possible?"

  "You should understand, your mom is my absolute favorite customer. I adore her. You must know without me telling you that she talks about you a lot. Even though it's obvious she loves you very much, I heard in her stories something much different than she meant to."

  "You finally talk to me for real, and it turns out you're mean," he said jokingly.

  "Sorry," she said, smiling. "I was wrong, anyway. It's obvious, now that you're here, you're nothing like I imagined you to be."

  "You imagined me, did you?" he asked, his blue eyes sparkling.

  "Not like that," she said, bumping him with her shoulder, feeling more at ease with him. "It was hard not to, the way she went on."

  "Tell me how you imagined I would be."

  "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

  "More than ever."

  "I was right about some things," she teased. "I pictured you to be a little full of yourself."

  "Is that what you think?"

  "Definitely," she said without hesitation.

  "I see how it is!" he said, his turn to bump shoulders with her. "What else? Something real."

  "That wasn't real enough for you? Okay, you asked for it. I guess I thought you were inconsiderate. Call your mom, guy! How hard can it be?"

  "I know, but I had a busy life in Chicago! I know that's a lame excuse, but I was the executive chef at a busy restaurant, not to mention I had a..." he trailed off, the teasing in his voice gone.

  "Dancer?" she finished for him, regretting it as soon as she saw the sadness in his eyes.

  "Yeah," he said after a while. "A best friend, too. But that's all gone now. What am I going to do?" The question seemed more aimed at himself, and they sat in silence for a time.

  "Who am I to talk," she said finally. "I talk to my dad once a week. I only see him a couple times a year when he pops in unannounced."

  "You never go visit him?"

  "I haven't been back home in years," she admitted, surprising herself. "Sometimes I wonder if I ever will."

  "I'm guessing there's a story there and not a happy one."

  "You're right," she answered, lost in thought.

  "I really am sorry for flirting with you so persistently since I met you," he said, the sincerest she ever heard him.

  "You came back after a breakup. I knew that before you got here. I accept your apology, but..."

  "What?" he asked earnestly.

  "I say this hoping it won't happen again," she started, keeping her eyes locked on his. "I can't deal with things like that. My heart has been broken for a long time, and I'm very recently realizing I want it to heal. I don't know what it is about you, maybe there is attraction. Maybe it's just that it's been so long since anyone has noticed me, I don't know. Whatever this is, I can't handle it. If a fling is what you're looking for, it can't be me."

  "I understand that," he said after a moment. "I won't try anything with you anymore. I won't lie and say it will be easy for me to not flirt with you. Yes, I'm upset, and I'm sorry if you feel like I'm using you to help me get over it. My attraction for you is real and my curiosity about you has grown every time I see you, but I promise I won't make a move on you again."

&n
bsp; "Thank you," she said, relieved. "I'm glad to hear it."

  "Maybe it's been a while since you saw anyone in that way, but there's no way someone like you has gone unnoticed."

  "Alex," she breathed out, hoping he wouldn't notice her blushing since it had grown dark.

  "That needed to be said. Since I'm putting my foot in my mouth already, I love your hair, even though I liked the braid. I'm digging the lack of sweater while we're at it."

  "A fact I'm regretting now," she said, feeling the chill in the air. Her fingers instinctively reached for the long chain around her neck, and she gave him a nervous smile.

  "Let me walk you to your car," he said, standing up and reaching for her hand to help her up. She didn't take it, and he chuckled. "You really don't like to be touched, do you?"

  "Not so much," she said, keeping his slow stride. The sad truth was, she was getting used to it, with all the hugging she'd been doing lately.

  "You were crying when I first got here, weren't you?" he asked once they reached her car.

  "Yes." Why lie? She poured her heart out to Shelly earlier, and she guessed it wasn't so easy to stop now.

  "You can talk to me," he said, leaning against the Jeep he'd parked next to her Camry. They stood facing each other, the moon shining bright above them.

  "I was letting go of a day I spent here once. A million years ago, it seems sometimes. It's had a hold on me for a long time."

  "Do you think you really let it go?" he asked thoughtfully.

  "I wish I knew." She had a sudden urge to wrap herself in his arms. Instead, she grabbed his hand and held it in her own for a moment, surprising him. "Thank you."

  "I think we were meant to see each other tonight," he said, his voice soft.

  "Yes."

  "I wonder..."

  "What?" she asked, curious.

  "Can I be friends with someone I find so compelling?"

  "Maybe," she answered, fighting the urge to swoon in his arms.

  "We can try it, right?" he asked, pressing his lips to her hand.

  "I'd like that."

  "Me, too," he said, flashing that boyish grin of his.

  As Denise settled under the blankets that night and drifted off to sleep, she realized she might've made a new friend. A hard to handle how good looking he was kind of friend, but she would have to try and ignore that.