Gabe cringes. “Ugh. I’m so sorry you two. If you need to come over tomorrow you are more than welcome. I hope you don’t mind, but I told my mom about your mom and she said anything you need, she’ll be there.”
“Thanks. Although, Mom’s policy on help is a lot like your dad’s on money.”
“The offer stands.”
Liam rubs his palms together. “What shall be our magnum opus? I’m thinking something by Pink might be a crowd pleaser.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Great idea.”
“Heeeeeeeey, you guuuuuysh,” a slurred voice that haunts my memories calls from behind me.
I turn to see Izzy weaving toward our table, a look of determination on her face. My heart sinks. She hasn’t even been out of rehab for two months and she’s already fallen off the wagon.
Liam shoots me a look and then stands up. “She needs a ride home. I sure as hell hope she didn’t drive here.”
I put my hand on his to stop him. “I’ll corral her.” Quickly, I stand and head off Izzy before she can sit down at our table and start regaling Gabe with any stories he doesn’t need to hear.
“Hey, Iz. Would you like me to call you a cab? I think you’ve had a few too many tonight.”
She swings her head back. “Oh, do you?” Izzy loses her balance and has to grab onto the nearest chair to steady herself. “I don’t know hhhwhy you think I has to lisssten to you. You don’t know everything B-rynn.”
“Please don’t cause a scene,” I say, my voice quiet, hoping that will make her concentrate and lower hers. “How would you feel if your dad had to pick you up from the drunk tank on Christmas morning? Don’t do that to him. Let me get you home safe.”
The music to a Celine Dion ballad starts playing and I welcome the distraction. There are too many eyes on us.
Izzy sticks her bottom lip out in a pouty face. “Fiiiine. Call mea caaab.”
“Good choice. Stay right here, I left my phone on the table.” If I can keep her away from Gabe completely, even better. I turn to go to the table and feel her push past me, the chair she was holding onto clanging to the floor. “Izzy, what are you—”
She yanks the mic from the startled singers hand and points directly at Gabe. “Brynn pulled you from th’ water.”
Gabe looks at me like, what the fuck? I’m frozen. I couldn’t move if I wanted to.
“You didn’ dive inta the pond. Brynn savvved you.”
By this point the music has been turned down and the pissed off KJ is approaching Izzy like she’s a wild animal.
Gabe rolls back from the table and comes to me. “What’s she talking about?” He chuckles halfheartedly. “She’s so wasted. Izzy has no idea what she’s saying, right?”
Lying is only going to make it worse. I feel all the air leave my lungs and then I suck in a deep, choking breath because I’m drowning. I look down at Gabe and can’t stop the tears that are filling my eyes.
He gasps. His brows furrow and his breathing becomes erratic. He’s drowning too. “Why would you … why would let me think I did this to myself?” He bends at the waist, resting his face in his hands for a moment. The rise and fall of his back is so shaky and I want to put my hand on him to calm him, but when I lift my arm I’m shaking so badly too that I have to … I sit down on the concrete floor and put my head between my legs. I’m going to pass out.
Then Liam is next to me. He’s talking to me, I hear him asking me if I’m okay, what’s going on, do I need an ambulance?
Gabe is on his phone, sobbing into it saying, “Travis, tell me it isn’t true. Why has everyone been lying to me?”
Someone is rushing Izzy by and taking her somewhere over by the bar, a pot of coffee no doubt being poured down her throat.
A glass of water is shoved into my hand and I pull myself together. Liam helps me stand up. He takes me by the shoulders and looks me straight in the eyes.
“Tell me what’s going on.”
I reach over and take Gabe’s phone from his hand and end the call with Travis.
“Long story short,” I say, my voice not sounding like mine. “You and Travis fought. He was being aggressive with Izzy. He punched you and you fell. You got hurt. He panicked and dumped you in the water. I’d been swimming and was hiding under the dock. I pulled you to shore and when Travis realized that you weren’t dead, he—”
Gabe snatches his phone from me and pushes between me and Liam. “I can’t listen to this nonsense.”
I start to follow him, but Liam grabs my arm, holding me back. “Let him go. He needs to be alone.”
“But I have to make him understand,” I say, my words crackling with despair. “Travis was going to tell everyone about you, and I—”
“Oh, no,” Liam says, his face going pale. “Why does my secret keep hurting people? It’s not even a secret anymore!”
Teddi comes over and lays a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “I called a few cabs. I believe your friend is leaving without you.”
“Thanks, you have a Merry Christmas,” Liam says, putting on his Golden Boy façade that Dani had nearly managed to disappear.
Teddi smiles. “I have a feeling mine’s going to be better than yours, no matter what. Drinks on me tomorrow night if you need them.”
Liam manages a laugh.
I don’t find anything funny.
Chapter Eighteen
Liam goes back to Eugene the day after Christmas – a Christmas we spend together, in our childhood home, while our parents sleep. We wait until six in the evening for one of them to rouse and come into the living room to open their presents, eat a cookie, remark on how nice the decorations look, before we throw the cookies in the trash and take all the decorations down.
I avoid calling or texting Gabe all Christmas day. I understand that he needs some time to come to terms with what happened. I still think about him nonstop and feel sick every time the image of the way he looked at me pops into my head. Which is about thirty seconds out of every minute of the day.
I take the city bus with Liam to the Greyhound terminal, hug him, and send him on his way. The instant his bus pulls away from the staging area, I have my phone out texting Gabe.
I’m beyond sorry. I thought telling you would set you back. I should’ve let you make that decision. Please text me.
No answer. I try messaging him on Facebook because at least then it tells me if he’s seen the message. No answer, no seeing. I call. It goes straight to voicemail. I text again. I repeat this cycle for three days until I think I will go crazy. Finally, after leaving a voicemail for what feels like the twentieth time, I get a little angry, which gives me courage, and I decide to go to Gabe’s house. I close the store for lunch, tell Junnuen to take an extended break, and start hoofing it to Gabe’s.
It’s freezing cold and the sky is a deep gray, threatening to dump snow at any minute. I shove my hands into my pockets and tuck my chin down deep into my scarf. My nose is running like crazy and I generally want to fucking die. Everything is miserable all around and I’m pissed off that I let myself get as close to Gabe as I did. Because here I am, cold as a motherfucker, snotting all over myself, effing stalking him, practically killing myself to talk to him … and all of this could’ve been avoided … if I’d just avoided him to begin with.
But, no, he had to go be all cute and charming and wonderful and I had to let myself take the plunge and dive in. I laugh, at myself, what an idiot, thinking I could have ever avoided him. Our lives were intertwined long before he came into the cleaners with his mom’s stupid cornucopia table cloth. Something was always going to happen. I can see that now.
Maybe Gabe was what kept me here. Maybe this moment, this inevitable moment was what kept me here.
I walk up the ramp to his front door, untuck my chin from my scarf, wipe my nose on my sleeve, square my shoulders, and knock. Firmly. Confidently. I’m not leaving until I say my piece. Until Gabe hears that I think hope isn’t bullshit, but fault is, blame is. Life has happened to us
and all I have is hope that it’s going to get better.
I hear footsteps coming to the door, and I’m disappointed, although I guess I don’t know if I’d hear his chair rolling down the hall to greet me or not. He can still be behind the door.
I get the sense that an eye is looking at me through the peephole and I stare at it hard, defiantly, in a manner that says, “Let me talk to my boyfriend!”
Gabe’s mom cracks the door. “He doesn’t want to see you, Brynn.”
“He doesn’t want to see me, or you won’t let him?” I ask.
“Both.” She pokes her head out slightly until I can see her whole face. She looks tired. Haggard. Like she’s been through a nightmare time of it. “This is what I was afraid of,” she hisses at me, her voice breaking. “He’s devastated. On one hand, you saved his life, but on the other, you keeping that from him has ruined it. Gabe is right back where he started. He wants nothing but to give up and fade away. I cannot forgive you for that, Brynn. I can’t!”
Mrs. Riley slams the door in my face.
I cram my hands into my pockets and tuck my chin into my scarf. I start the long walk back to work. It never does snow, even though every other time I’ve seen the sky look so heavy and suffocating it has. My toes are numb in my canvas sneakers when I get to the cleaners. Junnuen is waiting for me with a fresh thermos of coffee. I take the Help Wanted sign of Grandpa’s out from underneath the counter and set it up in the window. Although Christmas is over and it probably won’t be that busy until people start spring cleaning in April.
I sit on the stool behind the counter, still in my coat, and sip my coffee. Junnuen rubs my back in circles, and I think about my mother at home in her bed, knocked out, dying, and how even now when I need her and I know she can’t comfort me, the hand of a woman who hasn’t said many words to me feels like more comfort than I deserve.
“It’s over, I guess,” I say out loud to make it true.
Chapter Nineteen
“You should go out,” Liam says.
“Because that went so well the last time?” I reply. I can hear pounding music muffled in the background. He’s at the club working the New Year’s Eve show. Dani is meeting him later. Her flight from San Francisco gets in at eleven and she’s guaranteed she’s going to be there to kiss him at midnight.
“Because you did what you thought was best and it backfired, but you shouldn’t punish yourself one more second.” Liam lowers his voice. “I know that’s what you’re doing. I’m not the only Garrett who is a master brooder.”
“You do recall me telling you that his mom said I ruined his life?”
Liam is quiet for a moment. “You didn’t ruin his life. He’s alive for fuck’s sake, and he could have not been.” He sighs. “I’m changing the subject. How is Mom?”
“She’s gone into work the past four days. Grandpa says she’s still pretty with it, but he’s been picking her up and dropping her off. They finally brought her car home. Dad said I could use it if I wanted. I don’t know. It seems mean.”
“Yeah. Shittiest way to get a car ever.” He sighs again. “I wish she would’ve talked to me, Brynn. She’s going to die without having talked to me.”
Liam starts to cry, which makes me tear up. “This is why I’m not going out. Everything is fucking awful. God, I can hardly stand it.” I get up from my bed and go into the kitchen. I sit on the floor with a fresh pack of Mallomars and begin.
“Are you stress-eating cookies?” he asks. “I told Dani not to let me get drunk tonight, unless I was already wasted by the time she got here and in that case I probably needed to go ahead and go full-on blackout.”
“We’re champions of handling our problems in a healthy manner.”
Liam snorts. “You know what, though? This is how everyone is. No one always, you know, fucking meditates and drinks green juice and calls their therapist’s emergency line. People self medicate and try to forget. It makes us human.”
“So, making good choices is bullshit too?” I ask. “I’m starting a list.”
“Get up off the floor and put on a dress you’ll freeze your ass off in and go the fuck out, Brynn. That’s an order. Flirt with a cute stoner guy and get him to share a joint with you if you don’t want to drink. I mean, shit, let’s try to enjoy tonight and forget for a few hours that everything is going to go back to being absolutely awful tomorrow.”
I love my brother. “Thank you for sucking at coping just as much as I do.”
“You’re welcome. I’m going to have a tequila shot and go dance with the masses before the show. Happy New Year!”
“Woot woot!”
Liam ends the call and I get up off the kitchen floor and go stand in front of my closet. I own nothing acceptable to go out in. I have a jean skirt that Mom bought me that I only wear when I have to do laundry and that comprises my entire female-centric wardrobe. Ha! Go put on a dress you’ll freeze your ass off in. Who did my brother think he was talking to?
Although…
I grab my keys and hurry downstairs before the consequences of my bad idea can fully sink in. I open the door to the cleaners and quickly turn on the lights. I hate being here at night. It looks like a bunch of headless bodies hanging from the racks.
I push the button that moves the carousel and I keep an eye out for things that are glittery, bedazzled, or have sequins, and also pink or red or purple or royal blue or some such color that’s a color. I wear black and white every day and soon enough will have to pick out a black dress, so tonight I’m going to wear something gaudy and wholly unlike me.
I’m starting to get dizzy and have to slow the carousel down when I spot something that is both a deep red and has sequins on it. I stop the rack and take it down. It’s a dress, and it looks like something someone my age would like, but it’s a size smaller than I normally wear. Clothing sizes vary from brand to brand, I tell myself and begin to strip right there.
I leave my bra on, even though the dress is strapless, because I don’t own a strapless bra and will have to wear a cardigan anyway even if by some miraculous miracle it fits. Unzipping the dress proves to be kind of difficult. The stupid sequins keep getting in the way of the teeth and catching, but I finally get it all the way down. I step into it and position the preformed boobage over my boobs and then practically do yoga to get it zipped up, but I get it zipped up. It’s snug, but not painfully so.
I gather up my clothes and head back upstairs, grabbing a cardigan from my closet and putting on my converse – no high heels, I’m counting on my shiny chest to distract from my feet. My hair gets piled in a messy twist on top of my head and I apply some ancient mascara that is sure to give me an eye infection and some tinted Chapstick.
I am not the hotness, but it’ll have to do. I call a cab and finish off the Mallomars while I wait.
~
“Where to?” The cabbie asks.
“Uh,” I stammer. Good question! “The Grove Hotel, please.”
“Okie doke. I hear the party there is a blast.” He hands a card to me over his shoulder. “Give me a call when you need picked up.”
“Thanks.” I tuck the card into my wallet, which I’m pretending is a clutch because none of my purses or backpacks looked right with such a fancy dress.
He drops me off at the front of the hotel, which feels strange since Gabe and I always entered through the parking garage. I pay and then rush inside. This is definitely a dress to freeze my ass off in.
The lobby is packed with people dressed like me. I even see another woman wearing sneakers and I begin to feel more comfortable. I’m on an adventure!
I follow the loud, thumping music and the crowd to a ballroom. There’s a bouncer checking IDs and tickets and another handing out bracelets. A minor setback.
I scan the crowd for single men, hoping to find someone already wearing a bracelet who will let me tag along and help me slip past the door guys.
“I wouldn’t have believed it was you, except those are definitely Brynn Garrett
shoes.” Andy slips his arm around my shoulder. He’s got a bracelet on. “Come with me.”
I keep my arm that should have a bracelet covered with my wallet and we easily walk right into the ballroom. Once we’re a safe distance inside, I shrug out from underneath Andy’s arm. “Thanks. That was cool of you,” I shout, so he can hear me above the music.
“No problemo,” he shouts back and then gives me a thumbs up. A perfectly straight thumbs up. “Is Gabe a no show? Not all that into dancing?” He flashes me a grin.
I shake my head no and don’t offer up any explanation. But I forget that Andy knows me pretty well and can read my expressions.
“You guys split already? Me and Sylvia too.” Andy doesn’t shout this because now his mouth is right next to my ear and I can hear him clearly.
“Wanna dance?” I ask.
“Totally!” Andy shouts, putting his arm around my shoulder again and guiding me over to the dance floor.
I try to lose myself in the music, but Andy keeps grinding on me, goofily, and making me laugh. I’m pretty excited to be laughing and wonder if I’ve been making myself be more emo than I need to. Maybe Andy is just what the doctor ordered.
“Can you get us drinks?” I shout.
Another thumbs up and he jogs over to the bar. I keep dancing by myself, being this new person with my old guy looking on.
I push the constant thoughts of Gabe out of my mind. I had planned to go up to the roof at midnight and, I don’t know, have whatever kind of moment I could have with my memory of him there, but now … maybe I should let him go. Maybe I should take a page from Gabe and realize that hope is bullshit. The reality is he doesn’t want me. He thinks I betrayed him and I guess I did.
Andy hands me a pint of dark beer.
Diving In (Open Door Love Story) Page 12