by APRIL ASHEIM
Spring turned to regard him, raising an eyebrow. He was toying with her. She thought about kicking him but doubted that would help her much. "What now?"
John backed away, grinning. "No, no. If you don’t want my help, far be it from me to offer my services. I was trying to be a nice guy, but you don’t have much interest in those do you?" He turned and started walking in the opposite direction, mumbling and shaking his head.
Oh Jeez. She wasn’t sure if he was still playing or she had hurt his feelings. Why were men such trouble?! Spring clenched her teeth and ran after him.
"Wait! John. Wait, I’m sorry. What is it?"
"Well," he said when she caught up. "The back of your dress is stuck in your underwear. You might wanna fix that."
Spring looked over her shoulder at her bottom and was horrified to see that he was right. Worse. She had forgotten to change into the slinky, sexy ones she had brought along and was still wearing the large white sacks Sam had purchased for her during his last shopping spree.
‘Modesty panties’ he had called them. If more young women wore them, you could mark his words, unwanted pregnancies would be on the decline!
She tugged the dress out of its undergarment prison with as much dignity as she could muster and gave him her cruelest scowl. "Every time I start to feel some humanity towards you, you have to go and be a jerk!"
"Hey now," he said. "I brought you your earring and I gallantly saved you from bearing your rather cute soul to the world. You could be more grateful." John smiled as Spring marched past.
At last she found Trevor’s door number, made sure John wasn’t still watching, and knocked.
"Who's there?" Trevor’s voice called from the other side of the door. The sound of it made her jittery.
"It’s me. Can I come in?"
Trevor opened the door wearing only a t-shirt and underwear, both of which had seen better days. His hair had that ‘just woke up’ look to it and he had facial hair that had probably been growing for the last three days. He scratched his head, yawned, and smiled.
"Hello, beautiful," he said, kissing her on the cheek and pulling her inside.
"Oh, God, Trevor. I’ve missed you so much. I’m sorry I couldn’t see you earlier. It’s just been hard with Sam and all. You forgive me?" She hugged him, latching on and taking in his scent. Expensive cologne and cheap beer.
"Of course." He lifted her chin and pecked her on the lips. Then he led her to his bed, which was right in the middle of his living room, its headboard positioned up against the wall. The sheets were askew and a remote controller lay on an uncased pillow. They sat on the edge and Trevor leaned over, picking up a bottle from the ground. He popped open the lid.
"Beer?"
"No thanks. I’m good."
Trevor nodded and leaned his head all the way back, sucking in half the contents in one swallow. He replaced the cap and placed the bottle back onto the floor.
"So, this is your place?” Spring looked around. Dirty clothes in piles all over the room. An adult film playing on the TV. A table with one chair. Spring was confused. He was living like a refugee. He used to stay in a large loft with expensive furniture and stainless-steel appliances.
"Yep. My castle. My father cut me off, so I had to cut back a little. You say one fucking thing about his girlfriend looking a bit like a horse and you’re disowned for good, you know?" Trevor stroked his chin and looked around the room. "I’ll be back in his good graces soon enough. It’s just a matter of time before he drops the nag and moves on to the next filly." Trevor grinned and took another swig of his beer. "Anyway, I’m only here 'til fall, then I’m gonna head home, patch things up with the old man. I just needed some sunshine. Maybe I’ll move here once things are settled." His eyes widened as he stared at her.
Spring nodded. She had felt that pulling many times as a child, especially when they traveled through colder climates. "You miss me, too? Is that one of the reasons you came back?"
Trevor looked puzzled for a moment and the corner of his mouth twitched. Taking her face in his hands he responded. "God, yes. Of course. I think about you all the time." He kissed her neck, his warm breath covering her, sending sensations she hadn’t felt for a very long time down her spine.
"Mmmm," she moaned into his ear. "God, how I needed this."
"Me too, babe." His lips made his way across her cheek, past her nose, to her lips. They tasted like stale Miller Lite. Or Budweiser. She couldn’t tell. Trevor pulled her up onto the bed, leaned her back, and straddled her. He lay his wonderfully muscular body over hers, draping her like a blanket. He kissed her chin, her cheek, her ear, one hand running his hands over her thigh, the other in her hair.
"Trevor," Spring said, in-between those tiny moments when his lips were not on hers. "You think about me a lot?"
"All the time." He spread her legs, burrowing his knees between hers. His hand moved from her breast to her knee, and then walked its way up her dress. She shuddered, feeling that rush of sexuality and love she had for the man. Nothing could ever be this good. Nothing. Ever.
"I think about you, too." She took his head and held it steady, looking into the green abyss of his eyes.
"We are good together. So good." Trevor's hand was on her thigh. "Let me make you feel things. Wonderful things."
"Trevor?"
"Yes?" His finger was looped around the elastic of her underwear, urging them down. "Terrible panties by the way, love. You’re too young to be wearing these."
"Take me with you when you go?"
"Huh?"
"When you leave, take me with you? Please. If we come back to Arizona, that’s great. But if we need to live somewhere else, I can do that, too. I grew up in the carnival. I’m adaptable. I didn’t ask you last time until it was too late. I won’t make that mistake again."
Trevor’s eyes narrowed and he loosened his grip on her underwear. He pulled himself up onto his knees and let his chin fall on his knuckles.
Spring slid into a sitting position. "What’s wrong?"
"I don’t think my wife would like that. She’s funny about that sort of thing. I guess we could ask her, though."
Spring blinked, drawing her knees up into her stomach. "What? Wife? Since when?"
Trevor twisted his body around, placing his feet back on the floor. He leaned forward, holding out his hands and counting on his fingers. "Three years. Maybe four."
Spring felt her temples pulse. Three years? Maybe four? "We were together two and a half years ago. You were married two and a half years ago?" She was on her knees now, ready to pummel him. He had been drinking. His math had to be off. It had to be a mistake.
"Yeah, that seems about right. What year is it again?"
"Trevor!" Spring flew from the bed and stood in front of him. He looked up at her like a puppy that had been caught digging through the garbage. "You told me you loved me. You told me you fuckin’ loved me then. And you had a wife!"
Trevor squinted. "I’m sorry." His words felt sincere. "She and I have an understanding. As long as I don’t bring them home..."
"Them? Fuck, Trevor. Them? Am I just one of them? Do you even fucking remember me?"
He stared off to the side, his eyes flickering with what Spring guessed were pieces of memory. The gears were turning, she could see, but it was work for him.
Her heart almost stopped beating. "Trevor. Tell me what you remember." A tear waited in queue, ready to slide down at a moment’s notice.
He smiled coyly, a lock of his dark hair falling to his forehead. "Well, the good parts."
"The good parts? You mean screwing me right? That’s all you remember?"
His brows formed soft C’s over his eyes. They were gentle, but they told the truth. He didn’t remember much of anything about his relationship with Spring two and a half years ago. His eyes broke her heart.
"You drank Piña Coladas. I remember that. Does that count for something?"
Spring said nothing but continued to stare at him, her mouth agap
e. He shrugged.
"I’m having a hard time remembering things these days." He went to touch her shoulder but she evaded him and stumbled from the bed. The tears fell. She tried to stop them but the dam had broken. Trevor stood up, putting his arms around her. "I really am sorry."
"Get away from me! You asshole! You goddamned asshole." Spring pushed him off, tripping over her feet as she backed away. She scrambled towards the door, her eyes stinging.
"I don’t understand why you’re so mad." He looked confused. "Didn’t you have fun?"
"We were in love!" She was hunched over, choking. "We were in love, you moron."
"We were?" Trevor stared at a picture on the wall. Two little boys playing baseball. His eyes blinked repeatedly. "I’m sorry if I misled you. I need to work on that."
"You go to hell, Trevor Donnelly. I hate you."
"No you don’t," he said. "You just told me you loved me."
Spring wrestled with the door, yanking on it. It was broken, like everything else she touched. Trevor stood, kicking through heaps of laundry, looking for clothes. She managed to escape before he could dress, and stumbled back down the three flights of stairs to her car. She turned the key in the ignition but it wouldn’t start.
"Perfect!" she screamed. "That’s fucking perfect."
On the radio a salesman declared that Casey the Condom would be making a special guest appearance at the Fourth of July Toyotathon.
"It was all a lie," she said, wiping her nose with the hem of the dress. Why didn’t she ever have a Kleenex when she needed one? "The last two years of my life have been a lie." The realization washed over her like a wave bringing in ocean garbage to a pristine beach. It made her sick. She opened the car door and hurled, then quickly closed it again.
"God, I was stupid. I was so fucking stupid." She held her knees into her chest, rocking back and forth like a baby. People passed by her on their way in and out of the complex, but she didn’t care. As far as she could tell, her life was over."
"You okay?"
She was startled by the voice and the rap on the door. She sat there for a moment, snot dripping down her nose, her hair clinging to it like lint on a sweater. She did not want to see him, talk to him, face him. Him or anyone. Ever. She tried to ignore his tapping on the window but he wasn’t going to stop. If she could have started the car and put it in reverse, running over his toe, she might have. Finally, reluctantly, she rolled down the window.
"Go away." She wiped the snot from her nose with the back of her hand, and transferred it to her dress. "I’ve had about all I could handle from men right now. And I’m a mess."
John kneeled down to her level. "You look beautiful to me. You could never look anything but beautiful."
She forced a smile. She knew he was trying to cheer her up, but it worked. It had been so long since someone had actually worked on making her feel better. "Watch out for the puke," she pointed to the mess on the ground and he positioned his shoes on either side of the puddle.
"Noted. Car problems?"
"Won’t start. Not sure what to do. I can call AA I guess."
"This might not be my place to say, but you don’t look like you are in any condition to drive right now." He opened the car door and gently pulled her out, lifting her over the pile of vomit.
"Wait, I need to lock it."
"Anyone who is going to leap over your throw-up to break in probably needs whatever is in that car more than you do." John led her up three flights of stairs to apartment 354, a few doors down from Trevor’s.
"You wouldn’t happen to be a killer, would you?" Spring went inside and he motioned that she should take the only seat on an old blue recliner.
"Maybe. You never know."
"Good. When you are done with me will you visit apartment 314?" She smiled over the glass of milk he offered her.
"So, all these tears aren’t about Sam or a car that wouldn’t start. I should have guessed."
"No. They were for Trevor Donnelly, the man from the bar. I thought we were in love." She couldn’t control her sobbing then, long slow wails that began deep in her chest and pushed their way out of her throat. Ethereal moans she almost didn’t recognize. She fought for control, and finally steadied herself.
"Weren’t you?"
"He barely remembers me. I built a whole fantasy around a man who doesn’t even know my name. And get this..." Spring paused and took a breath. "He is married." Spring turned her head so that John couldn’t see her face. She felt like someone had taken a fork and stabbed it into her heart. "God, I’m a fool." She buried her face in her hands, mourning the loss of a love that apparently never existed.
"There’s no nobler reason to be a fool, in my humble opinion," he said. John stepped forward to touch her but she halted him with one of her hands.
"I’m okay. I’m okay." She took a deep breath. "Just feels like the Universe is out to get me."
John looked baffled. "The universe? As in God?"
"Yes. As in God. But more. Much more. Everything, I think. Lanie explains it better."
"Why would God, the Universe and Everything want to get you?"
Spring thought for a moment. "Karma. Something I did in this lifetime or the past. I’m not sure. To be honest I only half-listen to Lanie most of the time."
"Have you considered that maybe..." John began, rising from his spot on the ground and walking across the floor to where he kept a box of Kleenex. He pulled three from the carton and handed them to Spring. She dabbed her eyes and brushed the hair out of her face. He sat himself on the floor in front of her, looking up into her tear-stained eyes. "...Maybe the Universe has other plans for you?"
"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked, her eyes heavy from crying. "I thought you didn’t like me."
"Me? Not like you? Where did you get that idea?"
"Well. I haven’t been able to give you any money and you were teasing me about my underwear in the hallway." Her face darkened with embarrassment.
John took a sip and thought a moment. "Don’t you remember in elementary school where they tell you if a boy is mean to you it’s because he likes you?"
Spring snorted. "I was educated by an Indian lady in an RV. And I always thought boys were mean in general."
"That tells me you must have had a lot of admirers." He looked away. "I like you, Spring. From the moment you wrecked my car and threw a wad of dollars at me, I have liked you."
Spring’s brow furrowed as his words registered in her brain. "But you don’t know me."
"I know I like the way you run up and down the aisles looking for things. The way you wear those holey dresses of yours yet they still look beautiful on you. The way your barrettes hang out of your hair. The way you smile. The way you talk. The way you tilt your head when you are thinking of something. I know all that. What more is there to know?" John sat up on his knees, taking her hands and pulling them around his waist, locked in his own. Their faces were very close. His lips were inches away. His breath was on her face.
She closed her eyes.
He dropped her hands and stood up. "I’m sorry. I can’t do this to you right now. You are vulnerable and I won’t win that way."
"Huh?"
"I want you, Spring. But I want you on your own terms. Not because some jackass a few apartments over doesn’t have the sense to appreciate you. Or because you wanna get revenge on your little gay boyfriend. I want you because you want me."
Spring shook her head. "I think I’m going to get sick again." She stood up, turning in circles, looking for a door. "Where is your bathroom?"
John walked to a door, opened it, and turned on the light.
"I’m sorry. I really am." Spring tottered towards the restroom, one hand clutching her head, the other holding on to her stomach. She shut the door behind her. "I haven’t been sick this often since I was pregnant with the twins," she said, emerging from the bathroom, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
"You sure you aren’t?" he said.
He should have been a gentleman and escorted her out. Instead, he waited by the window for her to emerge from the building. She stumbled to her car, opened the door, lay her head on the steering wheel for a moment, before trying her luck with the engine. It started right up. She drove away. Maybe forever.
John took out his paints. One thing about being unemployed, he had time to practice his craft. He wanted to paint a picture of Spring, but he couldn’t bring himself to paint her crying. Instead, he painted her smiling, happy, and in love. The way she should be.
Twenty-One
Spring was relieved to see that Sam’s car was not in the driveway when she returned home. She entered quietly, hoping to steer clear of Lanie, but there was no reprieve. Spring opened the door to find her mother and Bob engaged in some elaborate dance sequence. When Lanie leaned back, Bob leaned in, and then they switched.
"Hi, Spring," Lanie called in-between gyrations. "Okay, Bob, now shimmy..." Lanie shook her body and the top half moved in one direction, while the bottom half moved in the other. Bob tried to emulate her and ended up looking like a Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robot.
"He’s a great dancer,” said Lanie and Bob beamed. His bow tie dangled from his collar and Spring tried not to think about how it got that way. "And he introduced me to something called Nine Inch Nails. Ever hear of them? Bob is taking me moshing next week. Sing one of their songs for Spring, won’t you Bob?"
Spring tried to ignore Bob’s yodeling and she made her way towards her bedroom.
"Sam’s fit to be tied," Lanie called after, and Spring froze in place.
"Oh? Why is that?"
"I don’t know. He was running around the house looking for the credit card and talking about the sins of Eve and then he left."
"Anything happen while I was gone. Besides you two?"
"Oh no. Bob just got here. Looked like Sam had the hemorrhoids to me. That’s the way your father used to look when he got a swell up. I made him up some salve but he hasn’t gotten home to give it to him yet. It’s on the counter." Spring picked up a jar labeled Hemorrhoidal Helper. "Confidentially," said Lanie. "I’d watch out, Spring. That little man of yours is losing his grip on reality."