by Cat Mason
Walking out onto the deck, I flop in the lounger and stare out at the stars. I don’t know how to reassure Gunnar or to ease the feelings he’s obviously having. This is something the two of them have to work out between themselves. I won’t be a mediator or the glue that holds this relationship together. Yes, I have separate relationships with both Gunnar and Dixon, but the relationship we have as a whole, and their friendship, need to be just as solid if not more than anything else.
My eyes fall on the chair Gunnar was sitting in before he packed and left. That day, even though it was so long ago, is still fresh in my mind. The ache I felt in my chest at losing both the men I love hits me again. Could this just be the beginning of the same thing? Only this time I would watch them both leave me at once.
After a while, the door opens, but I don’t turn in the chair to meet them. I can feel them stare as they study me. “Baby, are you OK?” Gunnar asks, the boards beneath his feet creaking as he makes his way toward me.
“Just fine,” I deadpan. “I’m just thinking about the last time I sat here. Just wondering if history is about to repeat itself, that’s all.”
“That’s not gonna happen,” Dixon says, the guys each kneeling beside me on separate sides of the lounger.
“He’s right,” Gunnar says, taking my hand in his and pressing a kiss to my wrist. “Dixon and I were talking. If we’re gonna make all aspects of our relationships strong again, we have to work on each of them separately.”
“How?” I ask.
“Date nights, both together and alone, nights where just Gunnar and I go hang, time with all of us together, among other things,” Taking my other hand, Dixon smiles at me. “It’s not gonna be easy, someone will fuck up, it’s natural. We just have to commit to fixin’ it.”
“OK,” I reply, leaning up and squeezing both their hands. “One other thing I think we need to do.”
“What’s that, baby?” Gunnar asks.
“I want us to buy a new bed,” I reply, releasing their hands and pushing to stand up. “The place the three of us sleep together, make love, whatever, needs to be a neutral ground. All the memories of that bed, should be us, from here on out.”
Dixon smiles. “I think that’s a great idea.”
Gunnar nods in agreement. “Great, we can get on that in the morning. Now,” I reply, brushing them both as I pass by, heading for the door. “I would love to fall asleep sandwiched between the two men that I love while hearing about their days.” Turning, I toss the hair over my shoulder and wink at them. “Nakedness is mandatory, so is groping.”
I hear them chuckling as I make my way down the hallway, tossing my clothes off as I go. I really love the ideas they came up with and can’t help feeling hopeful. Rebuilding their friendship along with our relationships separately, as well as together is a great idea. Lying in bed, I watch them both come in the room, stripping down before sliding in and surrounding me. Tomorrow, I will go with Lynsey and buy a new bed, all the way down to sheets and pillows. Tonight, however, I’ll fall asleep between my guys and after listening to their plans for date nights while feeling them skin-to-skin in bed with me, I drift off with a huge smile on my face.
You know the person that you talk to and nod absentmindedly at when they speak so they think you’re listening? You know the one, we all have someone like that in our lives. Mine just so happens to be my mother. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love her. I really do, it’s just that sometimes I don’t necessarily like her. Or her choices.
I never expected to answer the door this afternoon and find her standing on the other side. She used to have the decency to give me a heads up, so I could at least mentally prepare myself. Not lately. Of course the one time I actually have something that I need to talk to her about that is more than the weather or football, is one of the times she shows up unannounced. However, as usual, the conversation doesn’t stray from her very often.
After dragging her fingers through her hair, my mother grabs the cup of coffee that I’ve refilled three times because it wasn’t right and takes a sip. She grimaces, turns up her nose and sets the coffee down. “I’m not sure why you can’t get this right, Kennedy. Coffee, sugar and cream. It’s not rocket science.”
“Maybe the water tastes funny compared to what you’re used to, Mom. Maybe for once it isn’t me.”
OK… it was me. I may have put salt in along with her sugar. But in my defense she deserves it. If I had it and could get away with it I would probably drop a hit of acid in there just to mess with her.
Don’t judge me. That would make a good visit with my mother a possibility.
“It doesn’t matter,” she says, waving her hand vapidly through the air. “I’ll grab Starbucks on the way out. I only stopped by to give you this. I can only hope you’ll put some effort into your appearance for my sake, Kennedy. No one likes a sloppy woman.”
When she pushes a lavender envelope across the table, my stomach drops and I have to check myself before I roll my eyes. I don’t have to open it to know what is inside, she’s given me four before this one, and that doesn’t count the one she couldn’t give me because I wasn’t born yet. Picking it up, I slide my finger under the seal and pull out the overpriced invitation. Same sappy words, different groom’s name.
“Does your lawyer offer a frequent fuck up discount card that says after so many uses you get a free divorce? Is that what you’re working for? Fuck, divorce is a last resort, not a suggestion.”
Her eyes widen and I slap my hand over my mouth. I can’t believe I said that out loud. When her jaw drops, I can see the fury rolling behind her eyes but before she has a chance to say anything Gunnar strides into the room. Tipping my chair back on its rear legs he drops his lips to mine, coaxing my mouth open. It doesn’t matter that my mother is in the room, it’s never mattered because she’s never been a fan. She always thought that Gunnar deserved better, and for a while I believed her. I was always “too fat” for the star football player and he should have someone prettier hanging off his arm. But that never fazed Gunnar, if anything it drove him to show me how much he loved me even more in front of her.
Pulling back he runs fingers down my cheek. “We’ll be back, call us if you need us for anything.”
As soon as he’s out the door, Dixon walks in the room and I know in about ten seconds I’m going to have a whole lot of explaining to do. I know I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to tell her since she walked in, but this is not how I wanted it to come out. The hunger in his eyes is nothing short of that of a starving man being placed in front of a buffet, so I know there is no sliding by without him kissing me. Honestly though, part of me wants to shove this in her face. To show her that not only am I wanted by one person who could do better in her eyes, but two. I hate this part of me because I know it comes from her and I allow her to feed it.
Knowing exactly what he’s doing, Dixon grasps my chin and tilts my face, grinning just before pressing his lips to mine. He drags his teeth across my bottom lip before trailing his mouth to my ear. When you grow up with someone, you learn about them, even the bad things they want to hide. So when Dixon whispers in my ear the words settle the nerves that are making me want to vomit.
“I love you. Gunnar loves you. Don’t let her make you think otherwise.” Turning around he winks at my mother before stepping away, still leaving me completely clueless as to where they keep disappearing to lately. “Play nice, ladies,” he yells over his shoulder as he walks out the door.
I wait for the impending explosion that I know will happen any second as her face turns an odd shade of white before flaming red. Somehow she keeps her mouth shut until the truck starts and pulls out of the driveway.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she screams. “Cheating on Gunnar with his best friend?”
Taking a deep breath, I squaring my shoulders before speaking. Explaining this with them by my side would have been easier, but I guess that isn’t going to happen now. “I’m not cheating on Gunnar. I was, b
ut I’m not anymore.”
“Then what was that shit?”
I finally work up the nerve to tell her what is going on and launch into what happened. I shorten the story, leaving Lynsey’s hand in it out. My mother never could stand her or Mark for that matter, and even though the feeling was mutual, I don’t want to add any fuel to her fire. With every word, I watch the level of disgust on her face rise.
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” she screeches, making me flinch. “I think you need to reread those wedding vows that you took with Gunnar because I sure as shit don’t remember them including bringing another man into your marriage bed.”
“Well, I guess it’s a good fucking thing we bought a new bed, isn’t it,” I snap.
“I’m surprised with a smart ass mouth like that that you’re still even married at all. You’ve always had such a filthy mouth, Kennedy. It’s just one more thing that makes you unattractive. I never could understand what he saw in you when he could go out and get any woman he wanted.” Shaking her head, she throws her hands up. “Now Dixon, too. Are you drugging these boys to make them stay so you can feel better about yourself?”
I stand up and grab her purse from the counter because I’m done talking. There’s no use getting worked up when it comes to her because it’s always the same thing. I try, I really do, but even though I know it will do no good to get upset about her words I can’t help myself.
“Who the hell are you to judge me, or anyone else for that matter? I’ve lost count of how many husbands you’ve been through, and you’re going to try to tell me how my relationships should work!” She looks shocked, completely at a loss for words, but I can’t stop myself from continuing. “I refuse to be spoken to like this in my own house by a judgmental narcissistic bitch. If you want to act like this, go home to the new man whose life you intend on wrecking and don’t come back. These are our choices, they have nothing to do with you.”
Shoving her purse into her hands, I help her out of the chair by the elbow and steer her toward the door. Somehow I manage to keep myself from crying as we walk. Isn’t your mother supposed to be the one person in the entire world that you know you can count on no matter what? I should have known the second she walked through the door that something bad was going to happen. She was either going to tell me bad news, or make me feel like a worthless person.
Oh look, she managed to do both in one visit. It’s like a one stop fuck with Kennedy shop today.
I slam the door closed behind her, latch the deadbolt and slide down the wall. Burying my face into my arms, I do the one thing I tell myself I won’t do whenever I see her: I cry. I can’t stop and the harder I try, the harder the tears fall. My heart feels like it’s going to crack because if she can’t understand why we’re doing this, how are other people going to react?
My phone vibrates in my pocket and when I pull it out, the three of our faces flash in front of me. Of course Dixon would call right now. Trying to pull myself together, I slide my finger across the screen, putting the phone to my ear as I clear my throat.
“What’s wrong, woman?” he asks before I even have a chance to open my mouth.
“Nothing,” I lie. Gunnar growls in the background, something about cuntpunting my mother if she’s still there when they get back.
“Kennedy, don’t lie to us!” Gunnar shouts and I know I’m on speakerphone now. His voice snaps me out of my post-mother haze and reminds me that I shouldn’t let her get to me.
“Nothing,” I reiterate. “I’m fine, I’m over it. I made her leave.”
“Did you hear that, Gunnar? She’s fine,” Dixon says sarcastically.
“All I hear is bullshit. Turn the truck around. Baby, we’re comin’ home.”
I shake my head, forgetting for a second that they can’t see me. As much as I want them to have time alone, doing whatever the hell they are doing when they rush off, I want them here more. Right now, even though I told them I was fine, I need them here. All of a sudden everything I was trying to keep in when I answered the phone comes flooding out again. Instead of answering them like I know I should to keep them from panicking I hang up the phone. I don’t want them listening to me cry about bullshit that they shouldn’t even have to worry about.
I set my phone on the floor, ignoring it when it starts to ring again. I know it’s the guys calling back, and I’ll probably pay for hanging up on them, but I can’t answer them. Crossing my arms, I rest them on top of my knees and drop my head against them again, losing myself in the self-doubt and sadness that always settles when it comes to thinking about my mother.
I’m so absorbed in the thoughts running through my head that I miss the sound of the truck pulling into the driveway and the door opening. If they had ignored me and walked past, I probably wouldn’t have realized they were home at all yet, but they don’t. Dixon drops down next to me, sliding one arm under my knees and the other around my back before picking me up. We follow behind Gunnar to the couch and as soon as we’re sitting, Gunnar pulls me down so my head is resting on his lap while the lower half of my body is stretched out across Dixon.
Dixon’s fingers drag across my hip after he hooks his thumb in my belt loop and Gunnar tucks some stray hair behind my ear. Neither of them speak, choosing to wait for me to spill my guts instead.
“This will never work,” I whisper, finally breaking the silence. “No one is ever going to understand why we’re doing this and they’ll constantly judge us until we break. We might as well stop before we get too much deeper into it than we already are. Cut ties and start completely over before we wreak too much havoc or the damage is unrepairable.”
“I knew leavin’ you alone with her was a bad idea,” Gunnar mutters. “Every damn time she leaves you doubt somethin’ about yourself, and now she has you doubtin’ us. That fuckin’ bitch is not allowed back here and I’ll make sure she knows it.”
“It’s true!” I yell. Pushing myself out of their laps, I wander around the living room before settling my head in my hands with my elbows on the divider wall. “How did we honestly think that this would work? Because I can see what’s going to happen already!”
I can feel their eyes on me, boring into my back while they wait in silence to see if I’m going to keep going. When I don’t, Dixon does. “You’re gonna let one person’s opinion of our situation dictate what you do? After everything you’ve said about this bein’ what you want and tellin’ us over and fuckin’ over that you love us, you’re gonna turn around and run with your tail tucked between your legs because of her?”
“It’s not just one person, Dixon. OK, yeah, maybe right now it is, but it’ll end up being everyone and sooner or later the judgment will get to you. Sooner or later you guys will realize that you deserve so much better than me.”
“Better than you?” Dixon repeats behind me. “When the hell did your gorgeous sassy ass start doubtin’ how amazing you are?”
“Welcome to the post-Kay aftermath that y’all only see parts of. Bitch comes through like a hurricane when she knows that Kennedy’s feelin’ good, attacks everything she can while she’s here, and leaves a huge disaster behind when she leaves. She used to call and let us know she was comin’, givin’ us time to take off, but she caught on. Now she randomly shows up and fucks with her head. Usually takes a few days to fix everything she fucks up while she’s here.”
The “everything” he’s talking about fixing after my mother leaves is me. My heart, my mind, my body, and the people I love are usually what my mother spends time attacking because she knows those are the things that will hurt me the most. Those are the things that take the most time to heal.
“Well, that’s some major bullshit,” Dixon growls. Choosing a spot on the wall in front of me, I stare and try to block out what they’re talking about so I don’t start crying again. I succeed until Dixon’s voice penetrates my thoughts and I hear him yelling my name.
“What?” I snap and it sounds a lot harsher than I mean for it to.
“With every supportive person that you have in your life, why do you even care what she thinks? If you know she’s goin’ to say shit, because obviously it’s the same shit every time, why let it get to you? She’s just a miserable bitch.”
I turn around, completely expecting them to still be sitting on the couch, but they aren’t. With their arms crossed over their broad chests, they stare me down from about three feet away.
“You want the truth?” I ask, not expecting an answer at all. I shrug. “All right, here it is. I let the shit she says get to me because it’s the truth. It’s shit that floats around the back of my head most days, but I’m too afraid to voice it. She says I need to lose weight. I already know that, I’m not stupid. She tells me that nothing I do is making her proud, but that’s one that I honestly don’t care about. Oh, and this time she told me my language was disgusting and unattractive. Like I didn’t know I have a filthy fucking mouth.”
“Is that all?” Dixon asks through gritted teeth. Gunnar, because he’s been through this countless amounts of time, stays calm, while it looks like Dixon is teetering on losing his shit. I don’t plan on telling him the rest, but he seems to be able to see right through me. “Don’t even think about holdin’ anything back from us.”
Shaking my head, I draw in a deep breath. “No, there’s one more. The one that gets me, the one that digs the knife in deeper every time she’s here, is when she tells me that Gunnar, and now you, deserve better than me. It hurts because I agree wholeheartedly. I’m nothing like what you guys should have. I’ve seen what you used to bring home, Dixon. And I know what Gunnar could have without trying. Neither of those things are me.”