Mia Like Crazy

by Cordoba, Nina

  “They seem to be honest country people who want their family legacy in one piece.”

  “Tea time,” she said as she pulled the cups from the cupboard. Then she turned to me. “I don’t have any need for the property. I want to give it to them.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Mia, I inherited ninety million dollars through no effort of my own. I have no way of knowing how much of it was ill-gotten gain, and, regardless, I see no reason to be a glutton. Can you fix it up?”

  “Sure. I really want to thank you for getting me out of the house today.”

  Meredith set the two steaming cups on the counter and slid onto the stool next to me. “Are you ready to talk about it, now?”

  I couldn’t resist the sympathetic ear Drew’s sister offered. I poured my heart out about all the mixed messages I’d been getting from him and the frustration of existing the way we were.

  “I can’t live like this. I need caring and respect and…physical contact. He isn’t even putting forth an effort.”

  “What are you planning to do?”

  “Whatever I want,” I said. “If I feel like going out, I’m going out. If I feel like moving out, I’m moving out. I’m not going to sit around every night brooding about Drew. It’s not good for me Meri. He’s not the only one in a precarious emotional state.”

  “Mia, can I ask you to give it one more try?” Meridith asked. She swirled honey around an odd wooden utensil and let it trickle into her mug. “Talk to him honestly, bluntly. Because you never know if he’s taking cues like a normal person.”

  I rested my chin on my hand. “No kidding. I’ve never had so much trouble figuring someone out. He cooks me meals and treats me like a queen and then seems repulsed by me.”

  “I know he cares about you, Mia. He wants you around. I’ve never seen him go to so much trouble for anyone.” She sipped her tea, then reached for the honey again. “I know the love is in there, but you may have to make all the overtures.”

  “Why do you think he has such an aversion to being touched?”

  “Oh, I can tell you first hand. Drew and I both grew up in households where our mothers were dead and our fathers were abusive. I think the only time Drew’s father touched him was when he was hurting him. Drew relates the sense of touch to anger and pain. It’s hard for him to separate the two.”

  I watched the steam rise from my cup, wondering if Drew and I could ever possibly make this work. “You seem so normal, Meridith. How did you do it?”

  “With fifteen thousand dollars-worth of psychotherapy and two children needing hugs and kisses every day. It can be done.”

  ~

  Meridith lent me her cutest car to drive home. It was a red mustang convertible and I felt great with my hair blowing in the cool wind and the setting sun on my face. I grew so optimistic, I decided I’d give it one last try with Drew.

  When I walked in the door, he was sitting on the couch with the TV on. I sat down next to him.

  “What are you watching?” I asked cheerfully.

  “Where have you been?”

  “I had some work to do.”

  He continued to stare at the television. “You could have let me know where you were so I wouldn’t worry.”

  Still full of bravado and optimism, I stood up from my spot on the sofa, stepped directly in front of Drew, sat down in his lap, and put one arm around his shoulders. He was tense, as usual, but I ignored that fact, and brought my other arm around the front of him, linking the fingers of my hands together. “So you were worried about me?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he answered. “Where were you?”

  “You did say that, a minute ago. Anyway, I was doing some lawyering for Meridith.”

  “She has plenty of lawyers.”

  “But she wanted me,” I said arrogantly. “I want to talk to you about something else. I want to talk about our relationship.”

  I watched his jaw tense. “Why do we need to talk about it? Talking is overrated.”

  “Drew, I really don’t think I can live like this anymore. I’m losing my self-confidence. I’m lonely. I need you, but you’re only there for me in bits and pieces, whenever you feel like it.”

  He picked me up and put me back on the couch next to him. “I don’t understand you, Mia. I’ve tried to give you everything.”

  I looked directly into his eyes. “Not everything.”

  He jumped up from the sofa, suddenly angry. “So what are you saying?” he demanded. “Are you leaving me now?”

  I followed suit, on my feet instantly, ready to rumble. “Do you want me to leave?”

  “You do whatever you want to do. You’re a grownup, remember?”

  “Yes, you’re right. I am a grownup, and I should be doing things grownups do!”

  I’d had enough. I raced up the stairs and headed straight for my closet, pulling out the sexiest thing I owned. It was a low cut, fitted little black dress, purchased to try to seduce Drew, but I’d obviously been fooling myself with that idea.

  I dressed quickly, put on my highest heels and more makeup than I usually wore. Before I left my room, I bent over at the waist and brushed my hair down toward the floor. I flipped it back and made a few adjustments before grabbing a clutch purse and leaving the room.

  I passed Drew on the stairs and saw the look of raw fear in his eyes, but I’d already hardened my heart in anticipation of it.

  When I picked up Meridith’s car keys, he found his voice. “Where are you going?” I noticed the demanding tone was gone.

  “Wherever I can find a drink and a good time,” I answered coldly. I opened the door and left.

  I sat in the parking garage for several minutes in Meridith’s car, knowing I really didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to go anywhere without Drew. But he didn’t want to be with me, so, I was going to enjoy myself if it killed me. Recalling a nightclub a few blocks away, I drove straight there and went in.

  ~

  When I walked into the club, I immediately knew I didn’t want to be there. I’d never gone to a place like this alone in my life. If I wasn’t with a date or acquaintances from school or work, I’d preferred to stay home alone.

  Within the safety my companions provided, it was flattering to be noticed by men. Now I felt uncomfortably “on display.” I sat down at the bar and asked for a margarita.

  The bartender set two large drinks in front of me. “It’s happy hour,” he explained.

  I’d never been a big drinker because I’d always worried I’d have too much and “slip up.” I’d carefully maintained a vague background, in college, law school, and at the firm. When I was asked personal questions, I gave pat answers that sounded normal and avoided raising suspicions. There was no way I’d wanted to jeopardize all that work by allowing myself to get tipsy.

  But as I sat at the bar staring at the drinks, I wondered what I had to lose at this point. I’d married an ex-con for three million dollars.

  Although I was in love with him, he obviously didn’t love or want me enough to try to make the marriage work. I was unemployed and had no family to speak of. If anyone deserved a drink—or two—it was me. I took a sip.

  I knew the normal thing to do in a place like this was to scope out the clientele of the opposite sex, but I couldn’t bring myself to lift my eyes from the glass in front of me. Before I knew it, the first drink was gone, and I slid it out of the way and started on the next one.

  As I looked down at my left hand where my rings should have been, I wished I hadn’t taken them off and left them in plain sight on my dresser. What if Drew saw them?

  Drew? Why am I so worried about his feelings? Does he really worry about mine?

  I gulped down half of my second Margarita. A relaxing sensation flowed through me and my tongue felt a little numb.

  The bartender set two more drinks in front of me. “I didn’t order these,” I said argumentatively.

  “That guy over there sent ‘em to you.” The bartender pointed t
oward a man sitting at a nearby table.

  I realized I had already forgotten that an attractive woman in a bar didn’t have to buy her own drinks. In fact, living with Drew, I’d almost forgotten I was an attractive woman.

  I picked up a glass and toasted my benefactor. He was handsome, late twenties or early thirties, and he was smiling at me with his pretty, straight teeth.

  Now that’s the kind of man I should be with. I finished off the second drink and started on the third. A man who smiles…and wears colors. I grinned at my silly inside joke. The nice-looking man took it as an invitation and approached me.

  “Hi, I’m Lance.”

  I laughed. “Lance? Really? That’s a fake name you use in bars to turn ditsy women on, isn’t it?” My words sounded funny coming out of my mouth.

  “No, my mother actually named me that. Do you want to see my driver’s license?” he asked good-naturedly.

  “Oh, sorry. No, I’ll take your word for it.” I was embarrassed I’d made fun of the smiling man’s name. I decided to give him a compliment to make up for it. “That’s a nice shirt you’re wearing.”

  “Thanks,” he said, “I picked it out all by myself.”

  “It’s blue,” I pointed out. “I like men who wear boo shirts…I mean blue shirts.”

  He chuckled. “You’re drinking like a woman who’s trying to forget.”

  “Forget what?” I dissolved into laughter. Gee, why didn’t I drink all the time? I was hilarious.

  Lance sat down next to me and we talked for over an hour. I guess I was pretty out of it because I threw caution to the wind and exchanged phone numbers with him.

  I never mentioned Drew, and tried to remember all the answers I used to give to people back when I was my old self. As I listened to Lance, I tried to feel some attraction for him. As perfect as he was, and as tipsy as I was, I couldn’t make myself feel the kind of yearning I felt every time I thought of Drew.

  I pushed him out of my mind again. Lance was in corporate sales. A people person. I was sure he didn’t lock himself in his apartment for days and refuse to open the door. Back to Drew again!

  As I tried to refocus my thoughts onto whatever Lance was saying, I was thinking I’d never had so much trouble keeping up with a conversation. He was talking about his car being in the parking lot.

  I decided I must have agreed to go somewhere with him because he was leading me out of the club. He helped me into his car. Everything was kind of a blur, and I was getting really sleepy. Lance started talking again, but this time his voice was lower, more seductive.

  “Mia.” He caressed the side of my face. I realized my eyes were closed. “I’ve had a really good time with you tonight.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “I’d really like to kiss you right now.” His request sounded so sweet and reasonable, I saw no reason to deny it.

  I felt his lips touch mine lightly and then more firmly. I was disappointed I didn’t feel his kisses spreading through my body like Drew’s did.

  I wasn’t enjoying this and I wanted to stop him, but didn’t have the energy. Apparently, he was enjoying himself because his kisses became more passionate, and I felt his weight on me. His hands began moving over my body, much the way Drew’s hands had that night in the car, but these sensations were different, and this wasn’t Drew.

  The last thought thrust me back into reality. I pushed Lance away and struggled to get out from under him. “Let go of me!” I screamed hysterically. Lance moved off me and put his hands in the air.

  “Don’t freak, Mia. It’s okay.”

  I was wide-awake now and knew for certain I didn’t want to be there. “I’m sorry.” I tried to explain, “you seem like a really nice guy, but—”

  “Please don’t say anymore. I get it. I’m a really nice guy, but I’m not the guy you came here thinking about.”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression.”

  “You were pretty drunk. I should have known better. You’re just so beautiful…I really should have known better,” he repeated apologetically. “I’m sorry. Look, if you ever get over this bad boy you’re into right now, give me a call.”

  “What makes you think he’s a bad boy?”

  Lance sighed. “They always are.”

  He helped me out of the car, but I was much more surefooted now. As we walked back across the parking lot together, I decided I’d been wise to stay away from hard liquor all this time.

  A gentleman to the end, Lance hailed me a cab and made sure I was safely in the back seat before saying goodbye.

  He’s exactly the kind of guy I need. Why isn’t he the kind of guy I want?

  ~

  When I arrived home, Drew was nowhere to be seen. He was probably pacing in his room, and I hoped he stayed there for the night because I didn’t know what I would say to him if I saw him.

  I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror that hung next to the door in the living room. My hair was a mess and my clothes were rumpled. I looked like a woman who’d picked up a man in a bar and made out with him in his car.

  I thought it would be best if I went up to my room and got into bed. It would definitely be better if Drew didn’t see me like this. Besides, I was too embarrassed about what I’d done to defend myself against his barbs tonight. I picked up my purse from the couch and turned toward the stairs.

  The front door burst open and Drew blew in like a hurricane. He slammed it behind him.

  “Did you have a good time tonight, Mia?” His voice was as cold as ice when he said my name.

  “Not particularly.”

  He pointed at me with his index finger. “That’s a lie!” I saw what looked like blood all over his hands, and smears on his dark suit and white shirt.

  “My God, what happened to your hands?” My mind went immediately to the cops and their vendetta against him. “Who did this to you?”

  “You did it to me, Mia.” I could see that he was in raving mode. “You and your talk about how I could change things and acting like you weren’t going to leave me, but you did!”

  “Drew, what are you talking about? What happened?”

  “You happened, and he happened…and look at you! He was all over you, wasn’t he?”

  My stomach turned over. “Who are you talking about?” I tried to ask calmly.

  “The guy in the silver Mercedes—Pretty Boy.” He smiled strangely. “Well, he was.”

  “What did you do to him?” My voice was quivering and my eyes were riveted to the blood.

  “He deserved it. I knew he did…and just look at you!” He waved a bloody hand toward me. I was too alarmed to be ashamed.

  I remembered Lance’s handsome face and his kind words when we parted. Panic seized me. “What did you do to him?” I screamed.

  “I killed him,” he answered very calmly. “He touched you and I wanted to kill him. So I did.”

  I felt my stomach lurch and I ran into the guest bathroom and emptied its contents into the toilet.

  This had to be a nightmare. I couldn’t have gotten someone killed.

  Lance’s kind, smiling face was all I could see, as I splashed cold water on my own. I dried off and walked on shaking limbs back into the living room.

  “Where is he now? Did you call 911, at least? He may not be dead.”

  “Oh, he’s dead all right,” Drew assured me as I reached for the phone. “What are you doing?”

  “Calling 911—where was he when you left?” I thought my voice sounded oddly calm. The phone was torn from my hand. Drew yanked the cord out of the wall.

  Without another word, I reached over and picked up my purse, fully intending to walk out the door.

  But I heard a phone ring, and I ran to the kitchen to pick up the extension. It had to be Meridith. Maybe she could get Drew to tell her where Lance was.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mia?” The male voice sounded familiar. “This is Lance. I just wanted to warn you that I think your boyfriend is on a rampage. He w
alked up right after you left, screaming about me touching you or something. Then he started trying to bash my car windows with his bare hands. He actually cracked a couple, but I guess that wasn’t enough, so he went around and smashed all my lights out. Mia, are you there?”

  “I’m here, Lance. I’m sorry… I’m glad you’re all right.” The relief rushed to my brain so fast, I felt lightheaded.

  “I’m worried about you. That guy was a complete lunatic,” Lance warned. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

  “I will. And I’ll call you in a couple of days to get estimates from you. The lunatic will pay for the damage.”

  I was so relieved, I couldn’t speak for a few moments. And I was actually thankful I’d been so drunk, I’d given Lance my phone number.

  Then, I was overcome by a fury like I’d never known. I whirled around and headed back through the swinging door.

  Drew was leaning against the railing post at the bottom of the stairs, examining his bloody fingernails as if nothing earth-shattering had happened.

  I was running completely on adrenaline and emotion now. I rushed toward him and slapped him as hard as I could across the face. He looked stunned, probably not by the slap itself since it didn’t even leave a mark, but by the fact that I’d done it. I took him by his upper arms, near his shoulders, and actually managed to shake him a bit.

  “Are you so devoid of human emotion you don’t even realize what you did? You convinced me you had killed someone—I believed that the man I loved was a murderer! I thought a wonderful person was dead…dead…because of me! And now, you stand here propped against the staircase like it’s some kind of harmless practical joke!”

  Drew somehow managed to miss the point again. “So you really love me?”

  “You are Satan!” I yelled, as I strode to the kitchen and picked up the phone again.

  Chapter Twelve

  Meridith arrived, an hour later, with a doctor to see to Drew’s wounds. I’d called her, reported the incident to her, and told her, in no uncertain terms, that I would not be tending to his injuries or taking him to a medical facility. Meridith said she understood under the circumstances.