by Robin Leaf
“You still have a nice voice,” she complimented.
I smiled, despite the memory of the last time I sang to her. “Etta, I have to apologize to you for yesterday.”
“It’s not necessary, Nathaniel.”
“Yes,” I grabbed her hand. “It is. I was more than a little thrown that you were here. I had no clue I’d be seeing you. I had no right to question your credentials. I was really pissed at Jake who didn’t tell me you’d be here, and I took it out on you.” I looked up at her, giving her my puppy dog face that used to allow me to get away with anything with her. “Forgive me?”
She smiled. “Depends. Is Jake alive?”
I laughed. “Yes. I didn’t even hit him.”
“Good. He’s really reeling from the Ashley thing. The last thing he needs is to fight with you.”
I let go of her hand. “You know about Ashley?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. He’s my friend.”
Except members of the opposite sex can’t be just friends. Add that to the growing list of things Mom is right about.
***
Throwing the brace into the back seat, I slid into the seat next to Mom.
“Yay, you’re not wearing the brace. I guess the therapy is going well? I’m sorry I ran a little late. I took the car to get the oil changed. Joey asked me to do it last week, so I had to make an appointment. I had the first one of the day, so you wouldn’t think they would…”
“Why didn’t you tell me about Etta, Mom?”
Her face changed from happy and carefree to guarded and careful in a fraction of a second. She blinked a few times.
“Your brother and I discussed it and decided it would be best if you didn’t know she was here. We knew you wouldn’t have come if…”
“No, Mom. She mentioned that you two haven’t spoken in years. No doubt after you gave her one of your famous Tammy Nicole Brown smack downs.”
Mom narrowed her eyes at me. “It didn’t go down quite like that, Nathaniel. And that girl gives as good as she gets, believe me. Don’t let her fool you.”
“I know. I’ve been on the receiving end of both of your wraths. What I don’t know is why.”
She sighed heavily. “We had a difference of opinion.”
I waited for her to explain. When it was evident she wouldn’t, I got mad.
“God dammit, Mom!” I shouted. “Just. Fucking. Tell. Me. What is it with the women in my life being so fucking stubborn?”
“Nathaniel James Slaughter, you watch your mouth. You may be thirty, but you still should not cuss at your mother.”
“Well, you had a fight about me, one that made you not talk to each other for six years. I think I have a right to know the details, and neither one of you is very… cooperative.”
She glanced at me. From the look on her face, I could tell she was deliberating over what to tell me and measuring her words carefully.
“Okay, I will tell you this. We met for lunch often after you left. Despite how it ended between you two, I loved her. Hell, I still do. And when she was getting ready to start the clinic, I may have mentioned that she should go visit you in California. She was less than receptive, and I may have lost it a little.” I groaned. “Look, Nate, I know how much you loved that girl, even if you never told her the right way. You are my son and I will always fight for you, no matter who it is or what I will lose in the process.”
“So you told her off in a public place?” I smiled. “I can imagine that didn’t go over well.”
“Like I said, she gives as good as she gets.” She paused. “A few dishes may have been broken in the process.” She grinned guiltily. “And she and I are banned for life from the Friday’s on I-45.”
“Holy shit,” I said under my breath. I turned to her. “Do you think you could ever talk to her again?”
She studied my face. “Oh, damn. I thought you were over her. Are you really planning to go down that road again?”
Already on it.
Nine
July 15, nine years ago
Jacob’s nineteenth birthday celebration was planned at a little karaoke bar we found in the Village not too far from my apartment. After his visit to the famous Ethan for his faked rite of passage, Jake felt that drunken singing seemed to be a good way to celebrate. I was a little nervous for Etta. This would be her first time out since the night that should not be mentioned. She assured me she was ready, but that didn’t stop me from planning to keep her close.
Jacob had come home for the summer to be with Mom. She missed Dad, and although she insisted she was fine, she didn’t argue when Jake came home. Most of Jake’s friends were off at college, so he hung out with me and my group a lot, which wasn’t abnormal. Most of my friends were Jake’s, too, all throughout our lives.
He and Etta acted like siblings, picking on each other and joking whenever they were together, which was whenever Jake was with me. Etta and I had become closer since my dad died, but we still stayed in the friend zone, dammit. I was waiting for her to be ready, waiting like Mom suggested. And it was difficult to say the least.
Since it was a Thirsty Thursday, our whole group of friends were the majority of the patrons in the small bar. Etta asked Emily, who was home from the University of Texas for the summer, to join us. Emily’s and Etta’s cousin Brody, in visiting from Louisiana, also tagged along. Beth was Etta’s best friend since the third grade, and she seemed to be interested in my best friend and teammate, Chris, whom she met the night of the twins’ birthday. Apparently, Chris was interested, too, since they both sat at a table off by themselves. I had no idea until later that they had been talking and seeing each other privately since that night.
David, Josh, and Luke were there, too, plus a few of Jake’s friends I didn’t know well. The ratio of males to females was a little off, but there were a few girls in the bar who were not terrible looking. None were as perfect as the girl next to me. None ever were.
“Emily,” Josh said. “Where’s that girl who was with you before, Valerie or something?” He knew her name. I knew he was trying not to look like a pussy, because after he met her before, he couldn’t stop talking about her for weeks. Plus, he was fishing to see if she broke up with her boyfriend. I had played that trick before.
“Vanessa? She’s babysitting Miles and her niece and nephew. I was going to babysit with her, but she insisted I come. I offered to find another sitter so she could come with us, but I think she is avoiding another fight with her boyfriend.”
Josh’s face fell a little. I knew he was fishing.
“Wow,” I added. “Poor Vanessa.” Miles, Emily and Etta’s baby brother, was four, and he spent a weekend with Etta a couple of weeks ago. He was a cute kid, but man, was he a handful.
We tried to squeeze around a couple of tables next to the stage. Jake sat between the two tables, splitting his time between the two groups. Because it was too early, and we were all too sober, no one was brave enough to do any damage at the microphone just yet.
“Have you decided what you’re going to sing, Nate?” Jake asked, elbowing me in the ribs.
Etta gasped. “Wait! You sing?”
I smiled and was about to reply, but Josh intervened. “Yeah, he sings.” Fuck, here it comes. “He was the lead in our high school musical his sophomore year.” Everyone at the table laughed. “It was friggin’ hilarious.”
She looked at me with a smile and wide eyes. “The lead, huh?”
I smiled and looked down at the table, a little embarrassed. The musical thing probably lost me some man points in her eyes.
She placed her hand on my arm. “To get the lead your sophomore year, you must have been really good. I think that’s cool, Nathaniel.”
“Why do you call him that?” Luke asked a little loudly. Everyone has one of those gets-loud-and-obnoxious-when-he-drinks friends. Luke was mine.
“Because it’s his name?” Etta snarked.
“No,” Luke protested, louder than before. “Everyone calls
him Nate. Nathaniel makes him sound like an uppity douche.”
“Well, I don’t like Nate,” Etta argued back. “It makes him sound like a cocky, jack hole jock.”
Everyone laughed. “He IS a cocky, jack hole jock!” Luke yelled over the bar noise, causing our table to get looks from almost everyone in the bar.
“No, he’s not,” Etta said quietly, looking at me. I’m not sure if anyone else was supposed to hear it, but I did.
I knew right then I would make my move tonight. Screw Mom’s advice to wait.
And I knew exactly what I would sing to her. Later, of course. Not now. I needed a little more liquid courage to make that bold of a move. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t sing my specialty first.
David and Etta started a conversation about medical stuff. David was attending UH majoring in pharmacology. They were having a heated debate about prescription pain medications. Etta questioned the ethics of the drug companies who purposely created drug addicts to line their own pockets. Every point David made, she countered. She. Was. Amazing.
The DJ called my name. I was the first of our group to sing, and I chose “Hotel California,” my specialty. It earned me a standing ovation.
“Wow!” Etta gushed. “You have a great voice, Nathaniel.” She hugged me quickly. “That was amazing.”
“And that was just my first song,” I winked. “Wait until you hear my next one. It’ll be just for...”
“C’mon, Eddie. I gotta pee,” Emily interrupted. “I need you to come with me.”
“Okay.” She turned to me. “I’ll be right back.” I watched her walk away. Yes, again. Always.
“Nate, what’s the deal between you and Etta?” David asked.
“I think I’m in love with her.”
That’s what I should have said. Instead, I made yet another in a string of stupid mistakes in order to not look like a pussy-whipped fool.
“There is no deal. We’re just friends.”
“Really?” Luke drew out slowly. “Because if I were you, I’d be tapping that.”
“Suck it, Luke,” I spat out.
“What?” he asked, trying to look innocent. “She’s hot, that’s all. I don’t see how you can be just friends with a girl who looks like that. And her sister? Damn.” He turned to Brody. “She’s hot, right?”
“Dude,” Brody’s New Orleans accent was thick when he drawled, “she’s my cousin.”
“Yeah, but if she wasn’t, you’d hit that, right?” Luke asked.
Brody just shook his head and walked toward the bar.
“You sure you’re just friends?” David looked at me skeptically over his bottle of beer. “You’re always together. I mean you don’t really act like you’re into each other, but sometimes…”
“We’re just friends, David. Just… friends.” I thought hopefully that after tonight, we would be more. Little did I know…
Etta and Emily returned from the bathroom.
Jacob called me over to their table to confirm the details of a story from high school. It took a while, so I wasn’t paying attention to David or Etta or the fact that he was flirting with my girl. Or that she was liking it. Or that she was flirting back.
The DJ called me up. My song to Etta was cued up and ready to go, but before I went up on stage, I looked over to the table and saw it – her touching him. His hand on her thigh. Her smiling at him, blushing. His look of lust. And hers. Fuck.
The DJ called my name again, which was good considering I was about to make a stupid fool out of myself at my brother’s birthday party in front of all our friends by ripping David’s arm off, the one touching her thigh.
I got up on stage and zeroed in on one of the girls at Jake’s table. She’d been watching me all night, and she even flirted with me when I sat at their table. To this girl, whose name I couldn’t remember at the moment, I sang my second song of the evening, “My Girl.” Ironic, huh? It was supposed to be Etta’s song. The song ended, and everyone in the bar showed their appreciation for my performance, except the girl for whom it was originally intended. She was too busy kissing my right-at-that-moment ex-friend, David.
Yes, I said kissing.
I jumped down off the stage, grabbed miss-no-name, and kissed her senseless.
See? Stupid.
When I came up for air, David stood next to me. He, apparently, wasn’t real bright either.
“Nate, I’m going to take Etta home.”
“Okie dokie, Dave,” I said, not hiding my smartass tone. “Have a great time. Remember, safety first.” His eyebrows shot up in question. “I mean don’t forget to buckle up. I’d hate for you to, I don’t know, fly through a windshield or something.” I smiled. He looked at me oddly, like he was going to say something, but instead, he nodded and walked back over to Etta, who was saying goodnight to my brother. She threw me a wave. A wave. Right. Lucky me. David walked over to her, put his arm around her shoulder and led her toward the door.
Chris came up beside me. “Nate,” he whispered loudly as he grabbed my arm, forcing my death stare away from their retreating forms. “Go stop her.”
I shook my head. “She chose.”
“Because she doesn’t know you’re an option, Dumbass.” Emily, who had been behind me watching it all, added, throwing up her hands. “God, you’re both so stupid. I’m out of it, and out of here. Brody, we’re out.” She quickly hugged my brother. “Happy birthday, Jacob. Your brother’s an idiot.”
“I’m well aware,” Jacob added, walking her and Brody to the door.
Josh walked up and handed me a shot of who cared what. I downed it and downed his, too. “The best way to get over someone,” he whispered, pointing to miss-no-name, “is to get under someone else.”
Which is exactly what I did.
And her name was Kammie, by the way. Yes, Kammie with a ‘K.’
And Josh’s advice? Didn’t work.
Ten
October 31, last year
Once I was given the okay to drive, I had my car delivered from L.A. I didn’t want to have it here tempting me when I couldn’t drive it. My car was friggin bad ass. Lotus Elise S, chrome orange, forged black 14 spoke wheels, black leather interior, six speed manual transmission. It was flashy. It was new. And it was mine. Driving it made me feel like Batman, all except for the color, a decision which was influenced by the underwear model. I could have bought something more powerful and more expensive, but the Lotus called to me. Not too many people owned them, and I liked that it was unique. The dealer in L.A. talked me into ordering the car to my specs, and it wasn’t delivered until I was in season. Therefore, I really hadn’t driven it much.
Owning a flashy sports car in L.A. wasn’t abnormal, but owning a car like this in Houston really turned heads. I couldn’t go too many places without it getting a lot of attention. Due to my modest upbringing by a mother and father who preached practicality, I invested wisely and, until I bought this car, never spent my money irresponsibly or waved it in anyone’s face. However, I had a hard time not feeling a little like a spoiled douche when riding around Houston in my car, but it didn’t make me love the car any less.
Because the car got noticed, people paid attention to the driver. Sometimes people would recognize me. I loved attention from fans, especially the young ones, and I never denied any autograph or photo request. I didn’t get mobbed or anything like that, especially since I didn’t play here. I just got spotted and approached by the occasional fan. And that I found totally cool.
I was making progress in physical therapy, although it was going slower than I wanted. I could almost straighten out my leg, and the bend was significantly more than two weeks ago. However, there was still a lot of work to do before I was ready to be released.
I was usually the first person on the schedule each morning at the clinic. Etta was stepping me through the process just like she said she would. She worked alongside me, doing everything she asked me to do. We were never alone, though. In addition to Etta, the clinic had eight
therapists, all with at least masters degrees, who worked every morning. Monday and Wednesday afternoons, two therapists would attend classes or work on their doctorate. The same happened with two different therapists on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, the same days Etta taught her classes. She was very supportive to students who were dedicated to furthering their education. Plus, her research was done on site at the clinic.
On Monday, Etta stepped out to take a phone call, so Andre stepped in to supervise my movements. He told me that I was the only person Etta was currently treating. He said she usually only acted as a supervisor when she was in the clinic, and that she didn’t usually get territorial over clients, famous or not. He wondered out loud what made me so special.
“We’re old friends,” I explained. “We were pretty close in college.”
“Really? You don’t seem that close,” Andre confided before Etta returned.
He was right. And it bothered me. Everything was too professional between Etta and me. It wasn’t as if we were cold to each other, but we weren’t exactly warm either. It was comfortable, like the comfort you get from seeing someone almost every day, but certainly not used-to-be-best-friends comfortable. I wanted some of our friendship back.
So today I would take a step in that direction.
“What time does your class start?” I asked casually while she placed the ice packs around my knee.
“One.” These one word answers from her lately were becoming very annoying.
I looked at the clock. Three hours was plenty of time for what I planned. I waited a few more minutes before continuing. I wanted it to seem like a spontaneous request.
“Come to lunch with me today.” She shot me a look that was both surprised and perplexed. Then she looked perturbed. It kinda hurt. “I simply want to thank you for all you are doing for me.” She started to walk away, but I put my hand on her arm to stop her. “Look, we were best friends…”
“We were,” she said quietly in affirmation.