“I don’t know what I want anymore.”
“I’m always here.” My dad places his hand on my shoulder. “I think a break from this town will be good for you. Make sure you say goodbye to your mother.” He removes his hand and runs it through his white hair. His nerves are suddenly apparent. “Isaac… promise me you’ll come back.”
I smile at my old man and pull him in for a hug which he reciprocates. “I’m not that guy anymore. Of course I’ll come back.”
He doesn’t try to hide his relief. I hate how much of a bastard I used to be. This is what life is about - family. Not meaningless sex and binge drinking.
“I’ll leave tonight or in the morning. I haven’t decided yet. I have to get back to work, as I’m sure you understand.”
My dad nods and moves past me to enter the room. “I do.” He halts in the doorway and looks at me over his shoulder. “I am so sorry this is ending for you the way it is. I wish… I wish things could be different.”
So do I.
So do I…
The train ride home is torture, nothing but a radio full of solemn songs to remind me of what I’m leaving behind and my own thoughts for company. I’d put my personal music on my phone but I can’t seem to catch a decent signal. Why are solemn songs suddenly an ‘in’ thing? They’re okay sometimes but not always. I can’t stand to hear them right now. They resonate too deeply with my mood and only bring me down further.
I’m becoming such a depressing person.
My flat is empty as always. There’s nobody here. There’s barely even any furniture here.
The fact I haven’t tried to make this square place a home is evident. As much as I’m enjoying Boston, it’s nowhere near as good as Cambridge.
Nostalgia hits me when I stare around the empty space and I find myself wandering into my room and pulling a wooden box from under my bed. It contains photos and other memorabilia from long ago. I haven’t looked through it all since the day I finally realised Eloise wasn’t coming home. I don’t particularly want to look through it now.
I do though, just to further sink the knife into my masochistic heart.
My fingers tightly pinch the edge of the wooden lid and push it away. Dust tumbles in and around the box, spilling onto the first thing in sight. Our wedding photo.
We both looked so young in comparison to how we do now. We looked so happy.
I mentally compare myself to the image of Silas and find my hands curling into fists. It makes me want to launch the photo across the room. I don’t though. I’m angrier about the fact that it has taken me this long to figure out where we truly went wrong together.
Placing the lid back on the box, I lift it, wincing when something rolls on the inside and makes a clattering noise. Not that it matters if something breaks. I’m going to toss it anyway. It’s time to throw away the past and move on.
It’s as I’m placing the box on the ground by the front door that my phone alerts me to an incoming message.
The knife in my heart sinks in further…
Eloise: If you’re still in town I’d really like to speak to you, face to face.
I don’t get chance to respond before another is lighting up my screen.
Eloise: I understand if you don’t! I forgot to add…
And then another.
Eloise: But I’d really appreciate it.
I bite on my lip, hating how badly I need to hate her purely because I feel like hopping back on the train and going back just to see her again.
Instead I make the right decision for once.
Isaac: I’m not and I don’t.
And then I kick the box, sending it and its contents scattering all over the floor. Pain radiates up my leg from my toes but I welcome it. It reminds me that I’m not a mindless robot.
I don’t know why this is suddenly affecting me now. I feel like the past four years haven’t existed. I don’t understand why I’m suddenly torn up about losing her.
Did I honestly, deep down, think she was coming home? Am I that naive?
Eloise
Isaac: I’m not and I don’t.
I hear my phone make a crack of protest before I realise that I’m squeezing it far too hard in my hand. I don’t blame him for not wanting to meet me. I deceived him. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. I shouldn’t have deceived him the way I did. That isn’t who I am.
Hayley always did say that Isaac brought out the worst in me. I see what she meant now.
He still intimidates me.
He still makes me want to please him.
He still drenches my thighs with just a look.
“What’s wrong?” Silas asks, running his hand across the back of my neck.
I shrug him off, my mood sour. “Nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing.”
“It is.”
We fall into silence. It’s awkward.
“Are you hungry?” The bed sinks as he sits beside me. I shake my head in response. “Do you want to go home?” I nod my head in response but, at the same time, my eyes burn. He wraps his arm around me and presses his lips to my temple. “Okay, let’s get you home.”
The second he says, it I begin to wonder where home actually is. Suddenly a thousand doubts are fluttering through my mind and I don’t know what to do about any of them.
******
Silas has been ever attentive but he has to go back to work at some point. He’s missed classes and work for me, surprisingly. It’s proof that he cares; that’s for sure. I appreciate him being here but, at the same time, I’m not used to being around somebody so much and I’m most definitely not used to Silas in such large doses.
He’s very opinionated. I’m not sure if I like that.
I’ve been casting a lot of comparisons recently, which is unfair. I suppose it’s expected, with everything that has happened to me lately.
My arm hurts. My body aches still. My neck won’t move properly.
But I’m alive and that’s all that matters.
I’m alive and happy and well.
“I’m just saying…” I allow his voice to trail off as I picture nicer things than this conversation.
At the moment Silas is always ‘just saying.’ Normally he’s ‘just saying’ about a lot of things he doesn’t have a clue about.
I’m grouchy. I can’t help it and now I feel even worse for taking it out on somebody who is doing his best to take care of me.
“I agree.” I lie, mostly so he stops. I also do agree with the fact that he’s ‘just saying,’ rather than fully understanding.
“I’m a terrible person,” I mutter when he kisses my forehead and closes the window.
“Why?” I see his eyes twinkle in the dark as he leans across me to switch off the lamp on my side of the bed.
“I haven’t been nice to you lately,” I whisper into the darkness and his warm eyes come to mine. He leans over me and presses his lips to mine. Maybe it’s because of the accident, maybe it’s post-traumatic stress, but I don’t feel much other than his lips. They don’t give me tingles like they used to. They don’t light me up inside.
They do, however, remind me of how Isaac’s were pressed against mine just over a week ago. Suddenly an inferno rages through me as images of…
NO!
No.
I’m not doing this to myself again.
“I don’t think my body can handle this yet,” I murmur when his hand grips my arse and his groin presses against my hip.
“Of course.” He tugs my lower lip between his teeth and releases me. I snuggle into him, making sure to press my eyes against the skin of his neck, but it’s a long time before I fall asleep.
Why did I even want to see Isaac again? We said what we said and he signed the papers.
Eloise: I really need to see you soon… I’m having a meltdown.
Hayley: Do you know how long it has been since you needed me???
Eloise: I’ve always needed you!!
Hayley: To breathe?
Eloise: You’re the oxygen to my lungs.
Hayley: The bee to your bonnet?
Eloise: The apple to my pie.
Hayley: The cake to my diabetes?
Eloise: Seriously? What is wrong with you?
Hayley: I’ll call you tonight, as soon as I finish work. Okay?
Eloise: Okay. Good. When's the wedding dress fitting again?
Hayley: Three weeks on Tuesday. I swear on all that is holy, you better not flake on me.
I feel guilty that she even has to ask. That’s my own fault. I’ve flaked on her too many times.
Eloise: I won’t be that person anymore, I promise.
Hayley: Good. I’ve missed you.
Eloise: Like a starving man misses cake?
Hayley: Like a dead man misses life…
Eloise: You’re not very good at this game, just so you know.
Chapter Nine
Isaac
It has only been a few weeks since I last visited my dad. I thought time away would do me some good and, on one level, it has. I feel fresh. I feel new. On another level I don’t feel different. I haven’t moved on but lord knows I have tried.
I suppose the time will come and I’ll be ready. For now, I’m just enjoying being single.
Layton: Don’t forget the match on Wednesday night.
Isaac: I haven’t… and it’s on Thursday night, not Wednesday
Layton: I knew that. I was just testing you.
I laugh out loud, startling the woman beside me in the queue. I’m currently in Crystal’s cafe about to order my dad’s favourite pastries. He doesn’t know I’m here. I didn’t even know I was going to come, but once my new car arrived I figured driving the two hour journey home would be my first venture.
I’m surprised to admit that I’ve missed my dad. We’ve become friends these past four years. He pulled me through shit when Elle left. He helped me get back on my feet financially. He helped me get a new job. And not once did he judge me. Well… not verbally.
Isaac: You’re so full of shit.
Layton: And we’re meeting at five…
Isaac: Six thirty.
Layton: Good! I’m glad you remembered.
Isaac: You have a calendar app on your phone for a reason. Use it.
Layton: Calendars are for people who forget shit. Clearly my memory is impeccable.
Isaac: You forget to use your calendar, don’t you…?
Layton: I always convince myself I’ll remember. My brain hates me. It makes me think I’m clever.
Layton is my new colleague and friend. He teaches physical education at the school where I work in Boston. He’s an easy guy to get on with and we made friends quite quickly.
He also has the memory of a goldfish. He says it’s from one too many concussions growing up. He’s a huge fan of rugby and would be playing pro now if it wasn’t for injuring his ankle in a diving accident a few years back. He doesn’t seem sour about it. Another reason I like him is because he takes everything at face value and doesn’t make a big deal of shit. He just moves on. I want that to rub off on me.
I pull up outside my dad’s house and grab the box of treats from the passenger seat before climbing from the car. It beeps and the lights flash in the noon fog when I click the lock button on the key.
It’s slightly chilly today considering it’s almost summer, which means my dad will most likely be in. He’s not a fan of walking in the cold and his car is here.
I make my way down the driveway and push open the door after knocking lightly on the glass.
I know that familiar rhubarb scent so I know that she’s here before I hear her voice.
“Fuck,” I whisper when her laugh carries from the kitchen. “Fuck… double fuck.”
What do I do?
The door closes behind me, the wind ruining my escape plan, and the kitchen falls silent. They both know I’m here.
“Son?” My dad asks when the kitchen door opens. I see Eloise over his shoulder, her eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I thought I’d surprise you.” I hold up the box of pastries.
“I’ll just…” Elle starts to say as her hand closes around a set of keys. I hear them jingle before I see the long metal prong of the key poking between her fingers.
I cut her off. “It’s fine. You know how to work the kettle, don’t you?”
Her lips part as she hesitates about what to say or do.
“You’re here; I’m here. It was bound to happen eventually.” I nod at my dad and hand him the box before meeting her eyes with my own. “I’d love a coffee and you make a better coffee than me.”
She smiles nervously, softly. I feel it in my bones. It warms me. “Of course I do.”
My dad gives me a questioning look. I answer it with a shrug. What does he expect me to do? Leave? Kick her out? There’s only one way to deal with this and that’s to be adult about it.
As long as she doesn’t try to talk about everything… I don’t want to rehash old shit. I also don’t want to talk about the divorce.
“Well then, I’ll have mine the same way I’ve always had it.” I wonder if she remembers.
She nods, so I assume she does. It’s then I notice the cast on her arm and wince. I know Elle, though. If she was unable to do something, she would ask for help.
My dad announces the need for a game of chess. I linger in the hallway for a moment, unsure whether to follow my dad or remain and help Eloise. I don’t want her to think I’m hovering for intentions beyond what I actually have, but I also don’t want to leave her stranded if she can’t cope.
“Isaac!” She calls after a moment. “Can you grab this tray for me?”
I never should have doubted. I pad into the kitchen and grab the tray that holds the cups. I really hope she isn’t trying to get me alone to discuss anything.
Thankfully she simply smiles and points to her arm. “I can make the drinks but the weight of anything still hurts a bit.”
I nod. “I understand. Dad is setting up chess.”
“I’m sorry for intruding.”
“You’re not.” I wish my dad had told me that he’d been in touch with Eloise since the accident. Or maybe she just showed up much like I have. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m a lot better.” We fall silent for a long pause. “I’m in town for Hayley’s dress fitting.”
She answers the question I held tightly to because I didn’t want to pry. “How’d it go?”
“It’s in an hour.”
“Do you need any help?”
Her eyes widen in surprise. “No… we’re good. Hayley is picking me up from here soon.”
I nod and turn to exit the kitchen, tray in hands.
“Thank you, though.”
“No problem.” I place the tray on the small table beside the chessboard that my dad has just finished setting up. “I’m actually surprised you’re in town for the fitting. I didn’t even know we had a wedding place in town.”
“Unbeknownst to most, myself included, there’s a wedding boutique over in the east village that Hayley loves. It’s a twenty minute drive so it seemed easier to gather here.”
“That’s good then.” My dad puts in. “I bet you’re looking forward to it. I got the save the date just last week.”
“You did?” I ask, my brows hitting my hairline.
“Of course.” My dad grins. “It’s addressed to you too.”
“It is?” Elle and I say at the same time, both of us equally shocked.
He plucks a small envelope from the mantelpiece beside him and tips out a large, glittering silver coin that is tied to a piece of card on a long ribbon. The card is addressed to both Isaac and John and the disk holds the date, day and time and the names of the bride and groom.
“I won’t attend,” I assure her.
“I don’t have a problem with you being there, Isaac.” She says honestly, her good hand on my wrist. “Don’t exclude yourself beca
use of me.”
“Your boyfriend is going,” I say before I can stop myself. “I’ll pass on watching you two suck face all night.”
Her silence catches me off guard. I expect her to retort with something sarcastic. Instead she just moves a pawn on the chessboard and keeps her eyes from me.
My dad also avoids my eyes and I realise that I must have sounded so pathetic just now. What is wrong with me?
Eloise
I win this round of chess just as Hayley knocks on the door. I get it while John tidies away the chess board and grumbles about losing and Isaac makes a racket in the kitchen, cleaning the mess I made.
“Hey.” I pull my friend in for a long hug. “Missed you.”
She squeezes me back. “Missed you more.” And then she practically shoves me to the side and enters the house without invitation. “Afternoon, John.”
“Hello, Hayley.” She hugs him too; he returns it with one arm as the other holds the chess board. “You look lovely.” He’s right; she does. She looks beautiful in a navy blue dress shirt and white leggings.
“You’ve lost weight.” I point out, closing the door so as to not let the heat out.
“Duh, the camera adds ten pounds so I lost ten pounds to balance it out.”
This makes me laugh. “You’re insane.”
“I know.”
Her excitement oozes from her in waves.
“We’re just waiting on Jocelyn and then we’ll get going.” I love how she feels comfortable enough to just take a seat without permission. I’ve always been envious of Hayley’s confidence, though. “Who else is here?” She nods to the noise coming from the kitchen.
Distinction: The Distraction Trilogy #3 Page 9