by Alisa Mullen
So going to Lizzie’s place to celebrate her amazing life that didn’t include me? Yeah, that was not on the top of my priority list. Shit, I thought. What did I get the woman of my dreams for her wedding anniversary to another man? I decided to stop at the CVS on the way and pick up a simple Hallmark card that said “Good Job” or “I miss you.” It would only be addressed to her. Only Lizzie. No fucking way would I ever congratulate the ass hat that stole my girl from me.
My momma always told me I was an incredible actor. My biggest role to date? Best friend to Lizzie O’Malley. The fine line of showing I cared, but not too much. Don’t follow her around the room with my eyes. Don’t hold on to her too long in an embrace. Don’t scowl at the perfectly nice man that had her heart. That last one was tough. I knew Nick caught on the first time we met. He wasn’t dumb but instead of pitching a fit, he overlooked my obvious attraction to appreciate that Lizzie had a friend to talk to.
I was trying to offer a reprieve from the black sadness she was in because her brother, Conner, had died unexpectedly. Lizzie and I had been laughing – like old times – sprawled across her couch, holding hands. She needed to know Conner loved her—and for years he knew I loved her too. I was the one who helped her breathe during childbirth with Niall. The fucker, Teagan, left and just when I thought my “in” was inevitable, Conner shot me down.
“Dude, I know you have feelings for my sister,” he had said with a weird tone and the “Conner smug” look that we had all grown to despise.
“How?” I asked, startled and confused.
“What guy would watch a woman push a baby out of her body, wipe away her tears, and stroke her hair if he wasn’t in over his head?” His cheeky grin was all I needed to see. Bastard.
“Bastard,” I scowled at him.
“She is too broken, Sean. She doesn’t see you in that way. She depends on you to be her friend. Her Seany Boy.”
A few moments passed in silence as the raging pain built up in my chest. Conner left the waiting room to go see Lizzie. Before he walked out the door, he reiterated.
“Be her friend, Sean. She doesn’t have any.” His grin had disappeared and his sad look told me I had to give up my feelings for her so she could have me – need me – call on me. That was a cringed breath holding moment I would never live down or never forget.
I nodded as if I were still in that waiting room, telling Conner that I would continue to do what he had advised me to. I dismissed the memory of our conversation and threw the covers off myself.
The phone started to ring. Lizzie’s smiling face graced the screen.
“Hi, Lizzie,” I answered. It wasn’t monotone but it certainly wasn’t enthusiastic. Her calls had been few and far between since motherhood, touring with Desired Pitch, and being the dutiful wife to one of the most influential men in Boston.
“Sean? Why in the fuck aren’t you here already?” she snapped.
“Lizzie, your party isn’t for hours. Why in God’s name would I be there now?” I asked as I rubbed the side of my neck. A recent tattoo sported that area on my neck. It still itched like a bitch in its attempt to heal. I would never grow fond of the last few days of the healed, black specks of skin that fell on to every piece of clothing I wore. This tattoo had been well worth it despite that. I had a long Celtic knot spanning from my right shoulder up to almost where my neck met my ear. It was definitely one of my favorites, but I said that every time I got a new piece.
“Niall is begging, I mean – he is begging for you. Nick is about out of his mind and has been giving me the pointed stare to call you for over an hour. You have to come for me,” she whined a little and then laughed at something Nick had obviously said in the background. Does anyone use the mute button anymore?
I inwardly groaned. Her last statement – before her ass hat husband took over our conversation – repeated itself over and over in my mind.
“You have to come for me,” she had probed in a husky, beautiful voice. That was how I heard it anyways.
Oh, Lizzie, if you only knew I “come” for you at least three times a week.
“Okay, I am back. Sean,” she laughed. “Will you please come now?”
Silence. She said it again and I grunted. It was all I could do.
“Jesus Christ, Sean – get your ass to Boston.” And with that enticing invitation, she clicked off. I looked at the screen on my phone and grinned to myself. She was on fire. I often wondered if she wanted to take me for a test drive, like she had with Freddie. That fucker got her under him multiple times but I don’t think it ever meant anything to her. It was her whore phase and I wasn’t interested in that. I wouldn’t have settled for being just a booty call. As much as I would like to say I would have, I knew it wouldn’t be for keeps on her side of the friendship. However, I would like to think that I would have brought out the big guns and fought much harder than Freddie did. Unfortunately, when Nick came around and claimed her for his own – there wasn’t any contest. He won. Whether or not people think they are a match made in heaven, she and I had much deeper history. We were the match made from the stars in heaven.
I lit up a smoke and put the metal station on XM. Of course, Black Sabbath came on first. Sure, they were considered metal back in the day but Ozzy had a pretty singing voice whether he ate bats or drained the blood of kittens. He was a softie no matter what his looks said about him. That was bad ass. I could relate to the deception of looks since I was the tattooed leader of the freaks in our small and elite community of Newburyport. I had been pining for the same woman for years therefore; love songs, flowers, and chocolate were not beneath me.
Shrugging to myself, I let that thought go too, and headed to the kitchen where my roommate, Todd, had just finished making a pot of coffee. Todd was an interesting person, a major player with the ladies but held a job at a construction company. He had been at his job almost as long as I was at The Ink Shop, my tattoo and piercing business. He also had fucked up hours – depending on the job he was working on at the time. The guy fucking loved his sleep and managed to fit it into his schedule every chance he got between work, beer, and vagina.
“‘Sup?” I mumbled, taking another drag off my smoke and flicking it in the sink – piled full of dishes. I leaned against the counter and crossed my legs as I flicked some left over ink off my thumbnail.
“Some big titted, blonde chick showed up this morning at like nine or something. It was way too fucking early,” Todd scowled as he gave me a look of censure. “I told her you were in bed.”
I figured it was probably Amanda, a fucking hot MILF that had been a fine distraction for about a year now. She gave the best head and some nights – that was all I needed to take the edge off and to stop from feeling so damn lonely. She was able to accommodate my schedule since she and her kids lived with her parents.
“And?” I flicked the ash again and breathed out a long plume of smoke.
I needed to quit. My dad had died of lung cancer and although life wasn’t a bunch of green meadows and fairies tickling my happiness, I didn’t want to go out like that. It was hard watching him cough up actual pieces of lung and beg for mercy. I cringed at the memory and stared at the cigarette. One tiny stick was also one big, fat, awful memory. Again, I pushed the memory to the edge of my mind and put my attention back on Todd. I was pushing everything out of my mind this morning because my mind was stuck on negativity and I was sick to death of it.
Todd shrugged. “I said, ‘No visitors before noon’ and slammed the door in her face.” His quirked up lip told me he enjoyed telling her that as much as he enjoyed recounting the memory.
I started coughing and laughing at the same time, doubling over. I wish I could have seen the look on Amanda’s face. Todd was the man of the moment. He certainly loved the ladies but he wasn’t always tactful or overtly gracious to them. Sometimes his quick witted and sassy demeanor caught me off guard and that made me appreciate him more. There was more to Todd but he kept his life tight to the vest. He c
ertainly didn’t play and say about the women he banged. He was just a cool shit to hang with over a PlayStation game and a beer.
I didn’t introduce him to friends and Lizzie only knew of him as “the latest roommate.” I suppose I had been through a few roommates since she came back in my life all those years ago.
He finished pouring two cups from the fresh pot of coffee, handed one to me, and quirked his pierced lip up again. The guy was considered hot to the women. If I was otherwise engaged in my room, they probably begged him for a little play instead. He and I never talked about such things.
“Sorry to cock block you, dude. I was in no fucking mood for people at that hour this morning,” he said as he walked out of the kitchen. I smiled at his retreating back and flicked the rest of my cigarette in the pan of water in the sink, took my coffee to my room, and started to mentally prepare myself for Lizzie.
I wasn’t in any fucking mood for people today either.
This party was going to blow chunks. I did not want to play nice with people. These people that Nick and Lizzie invited were cool. I did consider most of them friends because I toured with their respective bands, Love Sick Ponies and Desired Pitch. They weren’t the type of close friends who really knew Sean Ford and all he did in his daily life. I was beginning to think that I was “a given” on Lizzie and Nick’s invite list which left me feeling uneasy about their parties. I was obviously going out of obligation, too – so I guess I couldn’t say much about it. I would have cut off my left testicle that moment to cancel. So I did the next best thing. I called all my old school boys in Boston and made plans for beers later in the evening. It would be the great escape plan.
A few hours later, I was standing in the elevator heading up to the famous Sawyer penthouse with my CVS greeting card in hand. Lizzie’s wide, gorgeous smile and that blazing red hair greeted me as I stepped into the elevator foyer.
“Seany Boy Ford, you are a sight for sore eyes,” she laughed as she pulled me into her arms.
I smelled her hair and hugged her back. I don’t know how long it had been since I had seen her last. Maybe a month? Yet, when I held her in my arms, I felt like I was hanging onto home. No one in this room, including Lizzie herself, understood what this hug meant to me and to my sad, deflated ego. I could never tell a soul. I could never explain my deep love for this woman to anyone.
Sometimes I did dream. One day or just once – for the sake of my dwindling heart – our embrace would find recognition and we would shine into a spotlight of truth. My hug would miraculously display what she meant to me for so long and she could understand my intentions without reservation.
In the middle of my minds’ ramblings, Niall walked by us with a can of soda in his hand. I muttered a quick hello to him. When his eyes found mine he smirked at me. Kids were so fucking intuitive. The kid knew – he had to. By now he was probably thinking that I was a dumb ass for holding out hope for so long.
“Missed you, friend,” I murmured in her ear. I pulled back after my allotted ten second count. I noticed Nick eyeing me or should I say eying the placement of my hands. He had every right to. The guy wasn’t a dumb ass like me and he was extremely confident to know that she was his. He knew all men gravitated to Lizzie. She was her own force of nature.
I did have one leg up on all those other ass hats. Lizzie thought of me as someone so special that she made extra time and displays of affection for me. Nick was just as baffled as I was when it came to where that line was drawn.
“What are the kids up to during this rager?” I bit my lower lip in an effort not to get worked up. It wasn’t like I sported a boner when she was around – well, not anymore. My dream of Sean and Lizzie as a couple was way beyond sexual. My heart was full of her at the moment and it was the kids that could pull me back into friend zone reality. Lizzie was untouchable. I mentally bitch slapped myself again for not pouncing on a relationship with her during her pregnancy or right after Niall was born. I would have taken anything. I would have licked and sniffed up every scrap of whatever love she would have thrown at the ground.
“So that’s it? No shooting the shit with me? Just where are the kids?” She was pretending to be annoyed. I looked at her again and blinked - hard.
No. Lizzie was annoyed. Interesting. Normally, she was cool with me just being on the sidelines, in her line of vision – a security blanket guard of some kind.
Had I been a shitty friend to her during the process of trying to keep my wounded heart at bay? She did want to spend time with me but it was a double edged sword for me, and how could I explain that to her?
Really, this shit was getting old. She didn’t know that if I had to train my eyes on just her face, while she wore that fucking incredible, lavender, hippy dress with beads and beautiful love expressed in her being, I would drown.
This was why I made it a point to stay away. I followed her band on the road sometimes. I would always support and encourage the music and Conner’s legacy. She wasn’t a mother and a wife on stage. She was Lizzie. Fun, flirty, and free. This woman in front of me was two of the three. Free Lizzie was gone and that made me want to sob like a big baby. I had lost her long ago, yes – but it didn’t hurt any less every time I saw her and the life she was living without me.
“Aw, Liz. You know I adore you, but you were the one that said Niall was looking for me when you called on the phone begging me to get my ass to Boston. I want to see him, too. I have missed both you and the kids,” I volleyed her words back at her, knowing full well that I didn’t say that I missed Nick.
Lizzie scrunched up her freckled nose and pouted. That had alleviated her previous reaction some and my stomach tensed up at having to be on my game tonight. I was getting weird vibes from her and the energy between us was different.
“Fine,” she sighed loudly.
Nick came up next to Lizzie, threw his arm around her shoulder, and held out his hand. Previous noticed uneasy energy went back to a normal balance. Nick Sawyer comes in to save the day – yet again.
“Nice to see you, Sean. Last time was in Vegas, right?” Nick was a good guy – I guess. He did care about her and by proxy – me. He made sure I always had a full ride to every show that Lizzie wanted me to attend. He referred people to me for ink and he looked at Lizzie the way I would if I were allowed.
I shook his hand and grinned broadly. “Yep. Vegas.”
That was all I had to say and the three of us were laughing so hard my stomach started to ache. Lizzie held up her hands.
“All I am saying is that I did not put the fire rocket up that donkey’s ass.” She made a twirling motion with her index finger and then rolled her eyes. I remembered something about that moment but to be honest, the Las Vegas trip was a blur, as they should always be.
“Sure you didn’t, baby,” Nick kissed her head as he continued to laugh. “Ten thousand dollars later...”
I sputtered on my saliva. Ten grand? Jesus, the guy had piles of cash and didn’t think twice about throwing that number out there. Crazy thing is he wasn’t trying to impress anyone. It was just the way he was. Perhaps it was his elite upbringing, but he almost thought of it as a joke. A joke that Lizzie and I had talked about before and concluded we would never attempt to understand the wealthy. Except now Lizzie was a part of the wealthy. I looked at her again and instantly knew she had gotten her purple, hippy dress at a thrift store. It was not posh classified.
“That…that was something,” I smiled as I crossed my arms across my chest. Whether I was talking about her good, old humble roots or the fact that she had managed to take the stage at an animal themed, burlesque revue show on the Strip, I wasn’t sure. Both Nick and Lizzie looked over and gave me shit eating grins. I was missing something but I didn’t care. I knew that even in my absolute drunken state, my feelings for Lizzie were so deep down locked up that even alcohol wouldn’t make me spill my guts. I probably dropped my pants, paraded around in my briefs, and called myself the tattoo king.
Whatever. It
wouldn’t be the last time.
It was clearly time to say hello to Niall and get the fuck out of this freaking anniversary party celebration hell.
To read more about Sean and Aoife’s love story.
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