Twist Into Me
Page 14
“Ouch,” I said. No way I could handle something that stout. Thank God Sarah figured that out on her own. I caught the tiniest twitch to Owen’s mouth, probably agreeing with my assessment. Or possibly teasing me silently that my beer buster had to be sweetened.
I did my best to drink it down, feeling the burn on my tongue, down my throat, in my stomach, and soon inside my head. My eyes already felt heavy, but I felt a smile creep across my face. I wasn’t typically one for drinking anything but a beer or glass of wine, but tonight I would make an exception. I needed just one night to help dull the pain, because tomorrow, I was going to have to legitimately start dealing with the fact that I lost someone so special to me.
Sarah, bless her heart... She really wanted to make this transition as painless as possible, help get us back in the swing of things and feel comfortable around them again. But heck if she asked the worst possible thing to get that ball rolling.
“Is Lis coming?”
For me, everything froze except my eyes, which tried to burn a whole in Sarah’s, but her gaze was set on Owen. I had no idea how he was taking the question, but a moment later he calmly replied, “Lis won’t be meeting us here anymore. Ever.”
All three of their mouths hitched open the tiniest bit. Sarah finally met my eyes, looking for confirmation. I roughly shook my head, still pissed over how that bitch behaved. “So…” I began with an annoyed tone. I took a deep gulp from my glass, which made me feel woozy when I stood to lean across the table. I slung the last remaining beer glass across the table with all my might. It took flight and crashed into the wall behind what would’ve been Lis’ seat, shattering into to a million little pieces that now glittered the floor. “…bitch won’t need her glass anymore.”
“Noted,” Sarah replied calmly, despite the surprise in her eyes. The pub might’ve been busy, but the crash was heard by all. Sarah turned to wave off the worker coming our way to check it out. Most of the patrons quickly lost interest and the environment rose in chatter once more. Some chose to hoot and holler first.
I craved another gulp and decided I deserved two. I was nearing the bottom of my tumbler, the smaller glass inside beginning to clink against the side.
“What?” I asked Owen sharply. I could feel his gaze burning the side of my face. Our companions were beginning to look uncomfortable again.
I saw him shrug on the edge of my peripheral. “Tell me how you really feel, Tessa.”
I was pretty sure it was just a joke to lighten the mood, but I snapped anyway, turning to directly face him. “Your ex is a bitch, Owen. I liked her well enough before, but now she’s just a bitch. And after having to listen to her fucking bullshit, I no longer give a fuck if you know I think she’s a bitch.”
He continued to stare, his lack of expression doing nothing to betray his private thoughts. But there didn’t seem to be any anger over what I spat, nor resentment. After a moment of just staring, he turned to our friends with a mild expression and told them, “Tessa slapped the shit out of her. Heard it all the way in the barn.”
Their mouths should’ve just stayed open if they were going to keep dropping them open like that.
“And that sound was the most comforting condolence I’ve received all week.” I tilted my head at Owen, looking at him with both sadness and disbelief. “I know,” he replied. “Pathetic, but true.”
He tipped his glass to me. I lifted mine to clink his and we both finished the remaining liquid in our respective tumblers. I exhaled a long breath – and an unexpected burp. I quickly covered my mouth as my eyes shot wide. Oh, my God! I wasn’t sure if it was the drink or the humiliation that lingered, but I felt my cheeks flush with heat. “Sorry!” I shouted through my hand, my voice muffled.
It must’ve been what everyone needed to relax, because suddenly we were laughing. And it wasn’t so much directed at me, but because we all needed a desperate release to the tension.
I removed the hand over my mouth and repeated, “Sorry,” more clearly. Even Owen and I had smiles on our faces for a moment, so I guessed my humiliating slip-up was worth it.
Our glasses were quickly replaced with another beer and shot combo, and my eyes couldn’t help but peek over to the glass beside me that would never be drunk. I took in a deep breath as covertly as I could, forcing the tears to stay hidden until later. I could sense everyone’s stares, and I couldn’t help but wonder if they thought I was about to break down.
I bit down on the back of my molars and willed myself to face them again. Then I lifted my glass, and with the saddest twist to my lips, softly announced, “To Brady.”
Owen was the first to slowly lift his glass and clink it against mine. And I was glad he was, because his was the approval I needed most of all. Soon we were all tapping our glasses, murmuring the name of our lost friend.
A soft clink beside me stirred me from sleep. My eyes were still lazy though, and it wasn’t until a waft of coffee perked my senses that they finally found a reason to brave the day. I swallowed and licked my lips as the world came into focus, still heavy with sleep. Rolling my head, I spotted Owen sitting on the chaise that sat on the opposite side of my bedside table.
Gasping, I shot up and whipped my head side to side, looking between him and the rumpled sheets beside me. Like rumpled as in someone slept there the whole night! Oh, shit! How the hell did I get here? Did I…? Did we…? But those were the only thoughts I had before the pain struck. I groaned as my head suddenly pressurized and something vile stirred my stomach, burning up my throat. Man, I wanted to hurl. “Oh, God…” I moaned, covering my eyes.
Owen softly chuckled. “Louise tells me this is the best way to wake you.”
I opened my eyes when I heard ceramic scratching topside. Owen’s hand still lingered on the cup of coffee. There was also a blueberry muffin on the plate beside it.
“Normally, yes. Think I’ll skip the muffin though.” Just the thought of it made my stomach churn. I made a grab for the coffee with one hand and ran my fingers through my bed hair with the other. Surprisingly, my curls didn’t tangle, which was weird since I usually tossed a million times in a night.
Owen was mutely watching me. “So…” I said semi-awkwardly. I scoured my brain for information, trying hard to remember what happened after I bitch-slapped Lis. I vaguely remembered going to the bar, downing a few drinks, but the rest of the night was a little fuzzy. Particularly the part where Owen ended up in my room. My eyes weren’t exactly discreet when they gazed towards the messy sheets beside me.
“Don’t worry. Your virtue’s safe. We only slept in this bed.”
“But not slept-slept, right?” I curled a strand of hair around my finger, gazing at the linens on my lap to visually establish that a pair of underwear was indeed present down there.
“No,” he replied. And if I wasn’t mistaken, he was fighting a grin. Glad one of us found our hangover amusing.
How the hell did he end up in my bed though? He was Brady’s younger brother for crying out loud!
Probably picking up on my inner monologue by way of my expressions, he said, “I should probably be going. I’ve still got that order to fill by Monday.”
He stood to go. I wanted to ask him what the hell happened last night, but thought better of it. That might be a better question for Sarah to cover – at least up until the point Owen and I left the pub. Flickers of memories were flashing before my eyes. More than one Flamin’ Dr. Pepper. Me, getting happier, looser, freer in terms of my emotions. Owen and I walking here? More like stumbling though…
“Did we…walk here?”
He was already standing in the door frame. He shook his head. “We tried to when Sarah took my keys, but Matt chased us down and dropped us off here. I said I wanted to get you inside, and you said you weren’t going to let me go home alone. You threatened to circumcise him if he tried to take me.”
Oddly, he seemed amused by that. I, however, wasn’t. It made my face cringe. “I’m not a very nice drunk, am I?”
I covered my face shamefully and moaned. I didn’t even want to recall the things I might’ve done last night to earn that comment. But maybe that shouldn’t have been such a surprise. He was Brady’s blood. Any shot at him was like a shot at Brady, and since he wasn’t here to defend his brother anymore, I sort of felt the need to step in. He’d lost enough in his short life. He didn’t need crap from people like Lis dumping additional emotional trauma on him.
I could be there for him. I was willing to consider staying here in Campbellsville for Brady. I could do right by him and stay for his brother for as long as he needed someone. I could stay for Nana. For myself, I supposed. And the friends I had here were the best I’d made through the course of my life. If they were going to stick around town, couldn’t I too?
It was definitely something to think about.
He was getting antsy just standing there, ready to give me the look that silently said goodbye for the day.
“Hey,” I called to him softly. When his eyes lifted to meet mine, I said, “You really do make beautiful pieces. I’m thoroughly impressed.” A genuine half-smile appeared on the left side of his mouth. Who knew you’d be so good with your hands? I thought.
A knowing smile grew to the point I saw dimples, and there was suddenly way too much amusement in his eyes.
“Oh, shit! Did I say that out loud?”
He flat out laughed at me. Crap.
I hung my head in shame and used my coffee-free hand to wave him off. “Oh, my God go. Go! Seriously. Before my hung-over ass says something even more inappropriate.”
I could hear his chuckles all the way down the stairs, and it wasn’t until they disappeared completely that I came out of hiding. Shaking my head, I sipped until half the cup was gone.
Absolute humiliation aside, it was nice to see him smile. He seemed somewhat ready to face the world again. Maybe I could be brave enough to start too. But first things first. I needed a long, hot shower if I was going to finally pick myself up and do this.
…but not without checking my shampoo bottle for the chance of a hint of unexpected coloring.
The next week went by in a blur. I’d like to say I was strong, that I never looked back, that I never longed for what was lost. But I’d be miserably lying. Truth was, Brady was constantly on my mind. The tiniest things reminded me of him – as if they needed to, my memories of him practically bobbing on the surface in the pool of my mind.
The lilies in the fridge were the worst. Yellow, pink, coral. It didn’t matter which color, though white stung the hardest. The cyclist who rode down the street turned my head, as did the half smile of the guy who passed me on the sidewalk. For a split second, I thought both of them were Brady. And every time the door chimed, I looked up expectantly, thinking it was him coming through to whip me off my feet for another adventure.
Even that girl who once stood at my counter, eye-googling Brady, came back to order another vase of flowers. She too turned to acknowledge the person coming through the front door. And I swore there was the tiniest flash of disappointment on her face when it wasn’t the same guy as last time. And sadly, the guy she was looking for would never walk through that door again.
Sarah got me through it with daily phone calls and stop-bys, as did Nana’s constant attempts to keep me comforted with my favorite things. Meals, movies, fresh flowers at my bedside. But it was Owen who distracted me the most. Go figure. The brother, whose physical presence should’ve been a constant smack in the face, actually seemed to be my salvation. And I began to wonder if maybe I was his. We hung out a little each day, sometimes hardly even speaking. And we would do the simplest things to pass the time. Go grocery shopping, grab a quiet meal by ourselves, even hang out in the living room of his family home to watch a television show, though I had doubts either of us came out of our daze long enough to follow along.
I thought I was slowly coming to terms, feeling a little less numb, crying a little less each night. But the last thing I needed was to hear Nana’s cross tone filter through to the back room where I was working mindlessly one afternoon, stuffing a bunch of roses into a mixed arrangement. “I know you did not just walk through my door.”
I immediately snapped to, my eyebrows lifting with curiosity. And concern, because Nana didn’t use that tone with anyone.
And if I thought hearing her sweet voice turn cold as ice wasn’t shocking enough, the overly sweetness of the second practically stunned me frozen. My heart hammered inside my chest as my mom coolly replied, “Now Momma, must we pick up exactly where we left off? Bygones!”
Considering it was my mom, those words could’ve passed as heartfelt – if she hadn’t slurred her way through the entire sentence. Only two in the afternoon and she was already lit. In Campbellsville. In Nana’s store!
“The only thing I want gone around here is you.”
“Oh, Momma. It’s been years! Surely you wanna see your baby girl.”
My body numbly made my way closer to the door, but I didn’t have it in me to step into the threshold, keeping myself just out of sight. Hearing my mom again, that twang in her voice that always came out when she was intoxicated, chilled me to the bone, made me remember things I tried hard to bury all these years.
“As a matter of fact, I don’t,” Nana bit back, “so mosey right along to wherever you just came from.”
I heard my mom pish, surely waving off Nana in the same dismissive manner she used to always use on me. “Fine,” she muttered. “I came to see Tessa anyway. Where is she?”
I rolled my eyes at the way she slurred through my name, growing more frustrated and embarrassed by her by the second.
“Out.”
“Out where?”
“Somewhere with her friends. And if you’re any kind of decent mother, then you already know their names and where to find them.”
“Oh, whatever.” A moment passed before I heard my mom’s voice come from a different part of the store. A closer part. It made my breath catch and my heart jump. Why was I suddenly so afraid? It wouldn’t matter if she caught me back here. But just having her here had my insides tying knots on itself. “I’ll just wait here for her.”
Irritation growing, I readied myself to step into the room and shove her out with my own two hands, but Nana’s voice stopped me dead in my tracks. “You most certainly will not. This is my place of business and you’ve been drinking. Tessie will call you if she wants to speak to you. Now get out.”
“You can’t keep me from my daughter!”
“I’m not trying to, but so help me God, Missy, I will have you arrested for public intoxication if you don’t leave this instant.”
“Fine,” she muttered belligerently.
Sneakers squeaked against the tile floor as they traveled toward the Main Street doors in anger. The wind chime knocked into itself aggressively as it recovered from her dramatic exit, a mixture of music and metal on wood. I made my way out from the back, joining Nana at one of the front windows, our eyes following the backside of my mom as she awkwardly stumbled down the sidewalk, her hand up trying to block the sunlight from her face.
The inside of my stomach tumbled in a nauseous way. Nana was red in the face too, a permanent frown line on her forehead.
I did this. “I am so sorry, Nana.”
She turned to me with a puzzled expression. “What in heaven’s sake for?”
“If I had just taken her calls I could’ve kept her from coming here. She must’ve figured out I was ignoring her because I learned the truth.” Which was something I didn’t think she had in her. Usually her drunk ass couldn’t remember to shower on a daily basis, let alone realize I hadn’t been talking to her.
Nana laid her hand gently on my shoulder and led me away from the window. “Tessie, there’s not a whole lot anyone can do to change Missy’s stubborn mind once she�
��s made a decision. Don’t you go worrying about her. Hopefully she’ll leave on her own once she realizes I’ve got no handout to give.”
She gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek before heading for the back room, far more convinced than I was that my mom would disappear as easily as she did before.
That night I was back to my old ways of sneaking out. Not so much to keep Nana in the dark, but my mom, just in case she was lurking nearby in a drunken stupor. Lately I had been heading over to Owen’s with leftovers when he didn’t make it to us for dinner. Given the circumstances, I was actually happy he didn’t come tonight. Nana and I were tense, hardly speaking through meal time, both of us on edge waiting to see if the doorbell would ring or some crazy woman would yell and bang on our doors.
Part of me wished she would, just so we could call in an anonymous tip for a drunk woman stumbling around Main Street.
I constantly searched my surroundings, looking for anything that seemed out of place. What I wasn’t expecting was to find that anomaly inside Owen’s house. For once the lights were already on before I entered through the back door. My heart immediately jumped, my first instinct to scream out for Owen. Both the kitchen and living room had been smashed, broken kitchenware and knick-knacks scattered all across the floor and tabletops. It literally looked like someone took a broom handle to the place and cracked anything within striking distance.
I abandoned the leftovers on the counter and anxiously called out for Owen. When he didn’t answer and I didn’t see any blood, I convinced myself he was probably okay wherever he was. He wasn’t in the barn and his truck was still there, so surely he’d be around too.
“Owen?” I called out into the night. Nothing… I turned and yelled in the opposite direction. “Owen?!”
My fingers quickly dialed his number, and on the second ring he answered with a tired voice. “Yeah?”
“Where are you?”
“Just lying here. Down by the bank.”
“You okay?”