Breaking Elle

by Antoinette Candela

He looks away. “I’m sorry for bringing it up, but no one deserves that.” He says it as if he’s been through it himself. Maybe he’s not as arrogant as he pretends to be. Maybe I really did get a glimpse of a heart under that perfect muscular chest.

  “I’m okay. Better than I thought I would be actually.”

  “I’m glad. Breakups are hard.” His look is sincere, relieved.

  We spend an awkward couple minutes in silence standing on the grass. I feel like I’m back in high school with my new boyfriend, talking on the phone and neither wants to be the first to hang up so we go back and forth waiting for the other to do it. “So, July third is a Friday, right?” I ask, trying to save our dying conversation.

  “Yes, ma’am. The party starts at nine or whenever you arrive.” He bites his lower lip, and I feel this ache, as he stands shirtless in front of me. I can tell he’s feeling something as I catch him looking at my bare stomach.

  “I have to get out of this heat.” I breathe somewhat normally, considering he’s standing there half-naked. I shield my eyes from the sun, and from him and his hard muscles and sexy tattoos. I need to control these urges, but I think I’ve passed the point of no return.

  “Don’t forget we run together every morning starting next week,” he says rubbing his bicep, stepping toward his apartment. I can’t peel my eyes off him, and it seems like he’s having the same problem because his attention returns to my stomach and then back to my legs. He’s not bashful. I guess I haven’t been either. I can only imagine what he’s thinking. I’ve already been there a hundred times wondering how much longer we’re going to torture each other like this. “I hope you don’t change your mind,” he adds. I can sense the weight of his stare and every part of me trembles.

  Uh never.

  “Don’t underestimate me.” I smirk, throwing my hand on my hip.

  “I like that.” He winks, nodding playfully. “Just a warning, you may be in for some trouble.”

  Trouble? I like the sound of that.

  “It’s on cowboy.” I promise, and a charming smile spreads across his face. He makes my head spin. One minute he’s this conceited jerk, and the next minute he is so sweet. He must look at me the same way, like I’m some moody bitch, but I’ve been taking cues from him.

  “I look forward to it.” He affirms confidently, cocking an eyebrow. He hesitates, unsure if he should stay or leave, and then finally turns towards his apartment.

  “Have a nice weekend,” I reply, not wanting to end our conversation. I could stand here all day and talk to him, and I think he’d be okay with that too.

  “You too, Elle,” he replies, giving me a lopsided grin. I love the way his accent embraces my name, tickling my ears.

  He sprints across the field towards his apartment, but abruptly stops midway and grabs his knee. I can’t tell if he’s grimacing or smiling. He kicks out his leg and stretches for a minute before he turns and waves. He must have gotten a cramp. I stand in the sweltering summer heat watching him as he disappears behind his front door, leaving me wondering which version of Reed I will see the next time. I close my eyes, inhaling deeply, immersing myself with the vision of him, and wondering what the hell I have gotten myself into. I’m not walking away from whatever this thing may be until I find out what he’s all about because something tells me I won’t be satisfied until I do.

  Corey is spending less and less time in the house. I’m fine with it, but I know my mom isn’t. I haven’t found any alcohol in the house, but I know she’s hiding it. Every time I ask her, she denies it. Most of her weekends consist of her crashed out on the couch watching Lifetime movies, but today’s going to be different. I’m not going to have her moping around all day. I am going shopping, and she’s coming with me.

  “Hey, Mom, what are your plans today?” I ask, bursting into the sunny, warm living room after seeing Reed at the track.

  “The usual.” She replies flipping through the channels with her feet curled underneath her on the plush sofa.

  “Not today. You’re going shopping with me.”

  “Honey... I...” She plays with the string of her pajamas. She looks small and fragile sitting there on the enormous sofa.

  “No excuses.” I cut her off. “I haven’t spent any time with you. I miss you.” I reach over the couch and squeeze her shoulder. Even though her marriage seems to be slowly unraveling, I can’t let it ruin my relationship with her. Her life drives me insane, but it’s only the three of us now.

  She sets the remote down and raises her tired eyes to me. “I know. I’ve been distant lately. I’ve been trying to deal with things on my own.” She pauses, wringing her hands in her lap. “Reality is hitting me hard. I never thought I’d be here again.”

  “This will be good for us.” I urge, hating the idea that my mom and I are getting over broken relationships together. I already made the decision to move on, and I feel good about it. I want this to be the last time it happens to my mother and me.

  “Okay, I’ll get ready. Why don’t we throw in a mani-pedi? My treat. God knows we need some pampering.” She smiles. Rising from the couch, she slides her slippered feet across the hardwood floor towards the kitchen and grabbing her purse from the marble countertop, pulls out her cell phone. “I’ll call the salon to make an appointment.” She smiles at me as she tucks her wavy hair behind her ear and scrolls through her phone.

  “All right, how much time do you need?” I reply, as I untie my sneakers and grab a bottled water from the refrigerator. Looking at my mom at this moment, I wouldn’t think that her heart was breaking or that her marriage was falling apart, but inside is a different story and I know that for a fact. My mother has always been able to keep it together through the worst storms, but how much more can she handle before she stumbles?

  “Give me thirty minutes. I’ll let the salon do all the hard work.”

  “Please Mom, you can walk out of here just like that and still turn heads.” I watch her face light up for the first time in days.

  We’ve finished shopping on Newbury Street, which was bustling with tourists and locals. Summer is the best time for people watching in Boston. After plenty of window-shopping, I picked up new running sneakers, shorts, and tank tops since I now have a sexy running partner. A girl needs to look her best even when she’s sweaty. I also picked up an outfit for his party, something casual, but sexy. I was a little excited about our chance meeting and his invitation. After that, my mother and I got the royal treatment at the spa before we headed over to an Italian bistro on Newbury Street for lunch.

  I’m starving after skipping breakfast this morning. Seeing Reed at the track made me forget to do a lot of things like bring my cell phone and my credit cards, but my mom was okay with taking care of my mini shopping spree and lunch.

  The hostess walks us through the busy restaurant with tables draped in white linen and decorated with fresh yellow tulips. The dark wood floors match the chairs, and the painted mural of the Italian landscape gives the place a sunny feel. The hostess seats us at a table outside on the patio under a rich burgundy umbrella that protects us from the summer sun, and lets us know our waitress will be right with us.

  My stomach growls and I immediately set my bags down and open the expansive menu, scanning for something healthy but filling. My mom slips into the seat across from me, and presses her glossed lips together, trying to force down her amusement. She looks amazing today in a blue sundress with a chunky turquoise necklace that compliments her olive skin.

  “Honey, you famished?” She laughs softly, setting her purse down on the table.

  “Little bit.” I smile warmly, shrugging my shoulders. I’m glad that I decided to do this with her. It’s been a while with work and everything else going on. Our waitress arrives with a pitcher of water and two glasses and my mother orders a glass of wine. I try not to react to her drinking, but it allows for a good segue into asking her what’s going on with her and Corey since he seems to be the reason for her excessive drinking lately.


  “So, I haven’t seen Corey around. How are things?” I lift my eyes to meet hers.

  She twirls the wine glass before she takes a sip and stares into the glass before setting it down on the table. “You’re just like your father. Getting right to the point.” She smiles meekly. “That’s probably a good quality to have.” She inhales. It almost looks painful for her. “We’re going to see a counselor. See if we can work through this rough patch we’re having.”

  I mask a tiny frown, thinking this is more than a rough patch, but I don’t have the heart to say that to her. I can’t automatically think the counseling won’t help. “That’s good.” Mom and Dad never went through the whole counseling thing. I wonder why she’s considering it now with Corey. It must mean they do love each other, want to fix things, and move past the issues that are destroying what they had in the beginning.

  “Not everything ends up this way. It doesn’t have to,” she says, tracing the rim of the glass, “if you put the time in.”

  “Do you think you can work through this?” I ask, setting the menu down in front of me.

  “I’m willing to try and so is he. There’s hope. I can’t allow my previous experience with your father to affect how I live the rest of my life. I believe we both gave up too soon, but there’s no going back now.” Her words resonate with me on so many levels. “What about you, honey?” she asks, placing her hand over mine.

  “I’m getting there. I know it will take some time to get over Cane, but I need to look ahead while giving myself time to digest everything. I’m not perfect and life is not perfect. I can’t allow what’s happened to ruin anything that might be ahead.” The thought of Reed is in the back of my mind. “I just have to trust that I can make the right decisions. That’s all I can do.”

  “Hello? Anybody home?” I ring the doorbell, squinting through the screen before I open it and step inside. The house envelops me in its warmth. The smell of apple cinnamon lingers in the air from a burning candle that sits on the mantle, reminding me of Tyler’s mother. I know they burn her favorite candles because the pictures of her aren’t enough for their memories. Everything is the same except for the big sixty-inch plasma TV on the wall, the high tech gadgets and laptops, and some of Tyler’s baseball trophies.

  There’s still so much love in the house, but it’s just not the same. I bite my lip, fighting back tears as I recall the times I spent with her and how hard it was for Tyler when she died. Tyler’s mom was the best at everything, especially baking. Tyler, Travis, and their dad love apple pies, and hers were the best. She perfected her recipe for them, memorizing every ingredient and never used a measuring cup or spoon. She tried to teach me a couple of times, but I failed miserably by burning everything. I gave up and left it to her but she still managed to get me in the kitchen to peel the apples.

  “Is that who I think it is?” Heavy steps echo in the hall coming from the kitchen. Tyler’s dad fills the arched entryway with his tall imposing presence, smiling broadly. His blonde hair has streaks of gray in it now, and it’s cut short, almost buzzed. I know where Tyler and Travis get their good looks. “Elle, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” He smiles, holding out his arms for a hug. I fall into his arms, smelling the familiar scent of cedar and mint that is Tyler’s dad.

  “Hi.” I pull away. “I’ve been meaning to come by. Just been busy. Tyler was giving me the guilt trip for not stopping by a couple of weeks ago. You know I come by any chance I get.” I smile, looking up at him through my lashes.

  “No worries, you’re forgiven.” He pecks me on the forehead and smiles, turning to the kitchen. “You want something to drink?”

  “Sure.” I follow him, taking a seat at the bar.

  “What will it be?” He calls over his shoulder as he walks to the fridge.

  “Water is fine,” I answer looking around the kitchen that hasn’t been touched by time, apart from the new dishwasher. I laugh to myself knowing how Tyler and Pops hate washing dishes and probably had to replace the old one from years of their abuse. My eyes water, seeing everything reminds me of her. The walls are still her favorite pale blue, and her little plaques with her favorite quotes ‘What I love about my home is who I share it with’ and ‘Family makes this house a home’ are still hanging up.

  Pops opens the refrigerator, grabs a water bottle, and twists the cap off. He places it in front of me, and pulling up a stool, proceeds to sit across from me as I brush away a tear.

  “You okay, Ellie?” He asks, squeezing my hand.

  “Yes.” I smile, exhaling in a rush. “How do you do it every day?” I whisper. “Everything reminds me of her.”

  “It’s hard, but I feel closer to her in here. Every day. She’ll always be here.” He places his hand over his heart. “I’m not embarrassed to say this either.” He smiles and scratches his head. This brawny man in front of me looks scared and bashful. That he’s reduced to this with whatever it is he’s going to share with me makes me love him even more.

  “Say what?”

  “I talk to her. I feel her everywhere. Not crazy talk. But every once in a while.” He chuckles softly. “I know she’s listening.”

  “I don’t think that’s strange at all.” My heart hurts. I look at him and think of Tyler who has to walk through the front door every day, reminding him of his loss. It makes my problems seem so petty and meaningless.

  “So, how are things with your family?”

  “Family’s fine.” It’s a little white lie, but nothing he needs to worry about.

  “That’s good.” I can feel his eyes on me as he pulls the stool closer. “What about you?”

  “Tyler told you.” I sigh, looking up at him with a meek smile.

  “Not at first. There were a couple of slamming doors and some douche bag references and all while I was watching my Red Sox game.” He chuckles. “You know how I hate that.”

  “Yes, I do.” I laugh.

  “I’m sorry about what happened. I’ve never seen Tyler so angry.” He squints his eyes contemplating. “I know how he feels about you. You’re his lucky charm. Always will be.”

  “I know.” I inhale, realizing that Tyler’s feelings are stronger than I thought. “I’m so lucky to have him.”

  “He’s so lucky to have you, too.” He places his hand over mine, smiling. “You guys have helped each other through some tough times. Trust in that. Trust in your friendship.”

  “I do and always will.

  My room is a disaster. I don’t know how many times I change my outfit. I have pieces of clothing thrown all over the bed and twenty pairs of shoes scattered across the hardwood floor. I finally decide on the black sequined top and white jean skirt I bought last week with some strappy sandals.

  I’m nervous about going alone, so I asked Tyler to go. Even though Tyler and Reed have gotten rather chummy, it feels awkward not sharing my feelings for Reed with Tyler. I haven’t spoken to Reed much since we met at the track last week. I’m trying to keep everything low-key as I sort out what I’m feeling.

  “You look gorgeous.” My mom lingers outside my door folding one of Jace’s t-shirts while I apply some dark eye shadow to finish my smoky look.

  “Thanks mom. I inherited some great Italian genes.” I laugh, gazing over at her.

  “Getting dolled up for anyone in particular?” She chuckles.

  “Mom, come on, it’s just a party for someone I work with. Nothing major.” Who am I kidding? I haven’t felt like this way is so long. The racing pulse and the constant blushing has become a daily occurrence every time I get a visual of Reed.

  “Oh, okay. If you say so.” She smiles, stepping back into the hallway. “Have fun tonight.”

  “Thanks,” I say, relieved that my mom decides not to hover. There’s really nothing to tell her at this point. I don’t know if anything is going to happen but I’m anxious to find out. I don’t usually take this much time to get ready, but tonight is different. I finish applying my makeup and touch up my hair with a couple o
f curls. Flipping my head over, I finish it off with a spritz of spray.

  The night is clear and warm, the air vibrant and sweet. From the open windows of Reed’s place, music floats over the front yard from the second floor balcony, punctuated by laughter and people calling for more drinks. My stomach’s empty. I was too nervous to eat anything, and I’m starting to regret it. One, two, three. I count the steps to the second floor, ridiculously paranoid about seeing Reed.

  “What is up with you?” Tyler laughs. “You’re acting like you’ve never been to a party before.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m fine.” I reply, smiling brilliantly to camouflage my nervousness.

  “Are you? Look at you. All tense.” He laughs, placing his hand on my shoulder. “You can’t fool me. You worried about seeing Cane or something?” He says, clenching his fists.

  “I’m more nervous about you.” I look up, grasping his arm. “Just don’t start anything.”

  “I won’t. I promise,” he says unsmiling, crossing his heart with his finger.

  “K.” I smile, relaxing my shoulders to convince Tyler that I’m fine, but it does nothing to the jitters I’m feeling inside. One big problem with having a best friend is they catch everything, and Tyler is no exception. I’m an open book when it comes to him. I didn’t forget about Cane possibly being here, and I’m not sure how I’ll deal with it if he is. “One last thing. Don’t worry about me, all right?” I glance in his direction with these thoughts swirling in my head.

  “I’m here to protect you, you know that.” Shaking his head, he flashes me a full smile.

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.” I laugh, punching his arm before I run past him on the stairs.

  The door to Reed’s apartment is wide open so there’s no grand entrance or prying eyes when we walk in. It looks like Tyler and I are some of the last to arrive. As promised, most of the people from the center are there along with some other faces that I don’t recognize.