Always Something There to Remind Me

by Beth Harbison

  He opened the door for her and she walked in. The smell of cigarettes and pot hung in the air already and her Tretorn sneakers stuck to the foyer floor in a way that suggested beer had already been spilled on the slate.

  Theresa’s mother would freak if they didn’t get this cleaned up before she got back in town. But she and Theresa’s stepfather were gone for another week, in Hawaii or Tahiti or somewhere, so there was time to put the house back in order.

  They went to the stairs of the split-level and Erin assessed the crowd. She didn’t know most of them, but Theresa had mentioned that a bunch of her brother’s friends from the Walter Johnson football team would be there, so that was probably who they were. The only people Erin knew were Theresa, David, Todd, Nate, and Todd’s friend Kenny.

  Nate was at the top of the short flight of stairs, and she approached him with some shame at her behavior. She kind of wanted to run away, but, with Todd at her back, she had to keep going.

  The crowd was thick at the top of the stairs and she stopped to wait for people to move. A guy she didn’t know, with tawny skin, dark auburn hair, and mean little rodentlike eyes, stood leaning against the wall, blocking the way.

  She made momentary eye contact with him and was shocked when he said, “Get the fuck out of the way.”

  Her jaw dropped. That was all she needed! After the night she’d had, the emotional roller coaster she’d been on, all she needed was a stranger to get in her face and cuss at her.

  She met Nate’s questioning eyes for one panicked moment, then felt a tap on her shoulder and Todd’s breath at her ear.

  “What did he say to you?” Todd asked, his voice low and tense.

  “He told me to get the fuck out of his way,” she told him, anger driving her to feed a fire she knew she shouldn’t feed.

  That was enough for him. Todd reached over her shoulder and grabbed the guy’s neck. “You don’t fucking talk to her that way—”

  He didn’t finish before someone else punched him in the side of the face.

  That person had the misfortune to be standing in front of Nate at the time, and Nate’s reaction was lightning-fast and brutal—he pounded him in the face and the guy went down.

  Erin dodged out of the way as Todd, undaunted by the blow, surged forward for the guy who’d insulted her.

  What followed was unlike anything she’d ever seen in her life. Even movies didn’t get this dramatic when it came to fight scenes. David disappeared like the mouse in Goodnight Moon and suddenly it was Todd, Kenny, and Nate against what looked like the entire Walter Johnson football team. There were at least twelve of them. Maybe fifteen. It was hard to say because everyone kept moving.

  The noise was thunderous—the sounds of blows and impacts and grunts, and breaking knickknacks.

  Erin watched in horror as everyone piled on and a group of them rolled down the stairs, Todd in the middle of the fray. There was a sickening thud, and she saw that one guy’s head had hit the drywall and knocked a head-sized hole in it. Then Nate jumped over all of them and landed in the hall, pounding his fist against the guy who had started it all.

  “Don’t ever disrespect my girlfriend,” she heard him say.

  Something like pride nudged her heart, followed quickly by guilt for getting any satisfaction from this scene at all.

  Todd plowed up the steps and halfway into the room, throwing punches at anyone who got in his way. Nate moved next to Todd, blocking the many people who seemed to be attacking now from all sides.

  Soon it was just a tangle of bodies locked together, struggling against each other until they crashed into the lattice door to the kitchen and smashed it into pieces.

  Erin stood, transfixed. Everything had happened so fast. One minute she was just going up the stairs, in her own little bad mood, and the next there was this huge brouhaha, ironically playing out her anger and frustration on life’s real stage.

  Theresa was screaming like a whistle, and crying. That got Erin’s attention and she went to her and put her arm around her.

  “It’s okay,” she said stupidly.

  “No, it’s not!” Theresa was wide-eyed. “Look what they’re doing to the house!”

  The destruction was amazing. And Erin had barely a moment to take it in before she heard Kenny shout, “I’m gonna kill you, motherfucker!” and saw him slam a guy twice his size down on the glass-top coffee table, smashing it in pieces.

  “Ohh!” Theresa covered her face with her hands.

  Erin scanned the room, looking for Nate.

  She found him, back to back with Todd, taking on more people than it looked like they should be able to handle.

  He caught her eye. “Call the police!”

  She nodded quickly, and asked Theresa, “Where’s the phone?”

  “I—I—don’t—”

  Erin grabbed her shoulders. “Theresa! Where’s the phone?”

  “There.” She pointed vaguely toward a bookshelf full of cookbooks.

  Erin hurried to it, found a portable phone, and dialed 911.

  “It will be okay,” she said to Theresa while she waited for the operator to answer.

  “No, it won’t,” Theresa said angrily. “This is all because of Nate and his stupid fucking friends!”

  Erin’s objection had to wait because the dispatcher came on and asked what the emergency was. She reported that a party had gotten out of hand and gave the address, then hung up and said to Theresa, “This is not Nate’s fault.”

  “He and his friends are animals,” Theresa said on a sob. “They didn’t need to attack!”

  “They didn’t attack! Some guy said something to me, and Todd was telling him to shut up when one of those other guys punched him in the face!”

  “And Nate just pummeled him! There was no need for that!”

  Erin’s heart filled with inexplicable pride. “I guess he didn’t like seeing his friend attacked.”

  Theresa shook her head at Erin. Her eyes were smeared with mascara and shadow. “I can’t believe you’re defending this.”

  She couldn’t either, actually. But she was. And more than that, she was really proud of Nate, Todd, and Kenny, because their opposition, she noticed, had dwindled to just a few, and her guys were still going strong.

  Go team!

  “It’s your fault too,” Theresa added sharply.

  “Mine? How do you figure that?”

  “Nate was pissed off when he came in here. Obviously you guys were arguing again. Now he’s taking it out on my house! Why don’t you two just break up and get it over with?” She dissolved into tears again and when Erin tried to put an arm around her shoulder, she shook it off. “Just leave me alone!”

  Was it true? Was this Erin’s fault? She heard a dull thud and saw someone fall to the floor. It wasn’t Nate, but it could have been. Had she put him in danger by making him so frustrated that this was the only way he could take it out?

  Finally there were sirens, which made a bunch of people panic and leave through the back door, taking with them their pot and whatever other substances they didn’t want to be caught holding. The fighting stopped too, dwindling down to a last few weak punches.

  The police came to the door and Erin, who fortunately hadn’t had so much as one drink, stopped them there, assuring them that the party had broken up.

  Clearly glad not to have to deal with too many details of a teenage party gone wrong, the police left, and Erin took a moment to assess the damage.

  It was bad.

  The house was a mess; there didn’t appear to be one square inch that didn’t need some sort of cleanup. Nate, Todd, and Kenny were the only ones who remained, a bit worse for wear too, except Nate, for some reason. She guessed it had probably been to his advantage that he was running on emotions ignited before the fight. He was red-faced from the adrenaline high but otherwise unscathed.

  Todd, on the other hand, had a bloody lip and eyebrow from the sucker punch he’d taken right off the bat.

  Erin laid her h
and to Todd’s cheek and said, “Thanks for defending me.”

  He gave a sly smile. “Anytime.” And she knew he had accepted her as one of them now. She was Nate’s, so she was all of theirs.

  And, for the first time, she could see how that wasn’t a really bad thing. As tired as she was of hanging out with all of Nate’s friends, it meant a lot that they looked out for her.

  At least most of them did.

  “What happened?” David wandered into the room, looking a little too self-consciously dazed for belief.

  “What do you mean, what happened?” Todd snapped. “Where the hell were you?”

  “I’ve been upstairs. It looks like a bomb went off in here.”

  “It must have sounded like it too,” Nate pointed out knowingly. “You didn’t hear?”

  “Fuckin’ Hiroshima,” Todd added, swiping blood off his lip with the back of his hand.

  David’s face colored and everyone knew he’d heard and known exactly what was happening.

  Erin felt pity for him. He must have been terrified. It would suck to be expected to fight if you weren’t any good at it.

  “Let’s get this place cleaned up,” she said, going to Theresa, who was just shaking and mute, and hooking her arm through hers. “We’ve got a few days, right?”

  Theresa nodded numbly.

  “Nate—” Erin began.

  “I can fix the drywall,” he said, as if reading her mind.

  “Just go now,” Theresa said, then turned hard blue eyes on Erin. “Really.”

  Erin felt her face grow warm. “Okay. Well, how about if we come back tomorrow and start tackling all this?”

  Theresa nodded. “Fine.”

  Erin was relieved to have at least some agreement from Theresa. “Your parents will never know anything happened. It will be just like in Risky Business.”

  Theresa rolled her eyes. “I seriously doubt that.”

  “You’ll see.”

  “I’m really sorry about this, Theresa,” Nate added.

  She leveled a gaze on him. “You’re an asshole.”

  Erin felt like she’d been slapped. “Theresa!”

  “Forget it,” Nate said, putting a hand to Erin’s waist. “She’s got every right to be pissed.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Erin said to Nate.

  But he just shushed her, and led her out with a promise to Theresa that they’d be back in the morning to clean it up.

  * * *

  “I’m sorry,” Erin whispered forty-five minutes later, as Nate pulled her jeans down off her hips. “I don’t know what was wrong with me tonight.”

  They were on her bed, under the crocheted canopy, illuminated only by the old night-light she still had on the shelf by the door.

  “Forget it,” he said, trailing his mouth down her stomach.

  Her breath caught in her throat. “But—”

  “It’s okay,” he murmured, then fixed his hands on her thighs and lifted her to his mouth.

  “It’s just that,” she breathed, “I was in this terrible … mood … and…” She stopped.

  Nate’s mouth worked her expertly. She clutched the pillow behind her head and bit down on her lower lip, arching against him.

  “Seriously,” she panted. “I’m … sorry.…”

  He laughed gently against her. “Hush now.”

  “Okay, but—” She was able to get that out right before he plunged his fingers into her and doubled the sensation that was already sending her to the moon.

  They were silent then, except for her rapid breathing and her fingernails trailing along the sheets.

  Nate worked her just like always, easily taking her to the brink, keeping her there like a jumper on a ledge, then giving his all to the fall. And when she spilled over into wave after wave of pleasure, he moved up onto her and entered her, extending her ecstasy into something that felt way beyond the physical.

  “I love you,” she said, after he had released onto her stomach and lay, spent, on top of her. Despite the intimacy they had just shared, she felt like she was clinging to something that was slipping away.

  “I love you too,” he said, and kissed her cheek, touching her hair absently.

  “Are we okay?” she asked in a small voice.

  He hesitated. He would have denied it if she’d called him on it, but there was no doubt at all that he hesitated. “Of course.”

  “I’ll always”—her voice broke—“love you.”

  He tightened his hold on her and pressed his face against her neck. “Me too, baby. Always.”

  * * *

  It was two A.M. a week later. The sky was clear and brittle, the stars looked like something on a greeting card. Something about the January sky always looked to Erin like an Ansel Adams photo. It was just more dramatic. Brighter. More starry. More everything.

  Except warm.

  It was definitely not warm.

  Erin pulled her blue down coat closer around her.

  Hopefully he’d show up. She’d asked him to. She’d begged him to. She was kind of banking on it now, standing out in the freezing-cold dark. But he was pissed. He might not show.

  They’d had another fight. A little one. She’d told him she thought a guy he went to school with was hot and, if that wasn’t bad enough, had proceeded to intimate that she’d think about going out with him … if it weren’t for Nate, that is.…

  Nate had told her she was being a bitch, but could he admit that he was jealous? No. What was his problem? Why was it so hard for him to ever step up and say he wanted her and he’d fight anyone to the death for her? Or maybe he wouldn’t. Last week it had been Todd who’d fought for her honor—Nate had really just been protecting his friend.

  Maybe it was an impasse. Or maybe—just maybe—she was being unreasonable in expecting big declarations and actions. After all, she did know he loved her. At least she felt like it most of the time.

  Maybe it was their pattern; she’d be a brat, he’d get sick of it, they’d hang up or he’d leave, and then, after trying not to speak to each other, one of them would eventually say uncle and they’d get back together.

  On some level, she knew that even that ridiculous cycle was them fighting to stay together. Every time they pushed and pulled, it was to make it work, and each time they succeeded in overcoming little obstacles. Could he see that?

  She loved him.

  The problem was that these things were happening more and more frequently. The relationship seemed more wobbly than ever, even though she loved him more than ever.

  But she had moments when she realized it would be hard for him to believe that. She was always on the defensive, always ready to reject first. Inside, she was afraid that if she just told him she loved him all the time, and everything was peaceful, then maybe he’d get bored and disappear.

  And she wouldn’t even see it coming.

  “Come on,” she said, and her breath puffed out a cloud of white in the air in front of her. “Please show up.”

  Then a car turned onto the street, the headlights swooping across the houses and over her.

  He pulled up in front of her and lowered the passenger window and simply said, “Hi.”

  She laughed in relief and got in. Tonight was not the night for standing there until he got out and opened it for her. There was chivalry and then there was idiocy. “Nate!” She slid across the seat to him and kissed his cheek, his jaw, his mouth. “I love you.”

  He expelled a long breath. “You’re a pain.”

  “I know.”

  “Why are we doing this in the middle of the night?”

  “Well, I thought it would be romantic.” She didn’t have any specific plans apart from that. “And it is! Don’t you think?” She draped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek again. Everything was okay now. “It’s like eloping.”

  He shifted to put his arm around her and pulled her closer. “I should have brought a ladder.”

  “That’s true, there’s always a ladder involve
d in a good elopement.” That didn’t sound right. “Is that a word? Elopement?”

  “Yes.” He turned and kissed her properly.

  It had been a year and a half and this never got old.

  Sometimes other things did, like the fact that they spent so much of their time with his stupid friends and not going anywhere fun or doing anything interesting, which was what they’d argued about tonight, but the stuff that happened between them when they were alone was exciting every single time.

  All thoughts of bad stuff disappeared quickly in the swell of physical need, as his hands moved inside her coat and under her shirt, sending a warm trail across her skin wherever he touched her.

  “We’re in front of my house.” She smiled against his mouth. “What if they look outside?”

  He didn’t move his hands. “Where do you want to go?”

  She drew back and looked out the windshield, considering.

  Moonlight cast the street in gray light, and shone on the bare branches of the cherry trees that lined the front yards. It was a beautiful night. But it was hard to think of anyplace they could go in this suburb that wouldn’t be just more suburbia. More houses that looked like hers, occupied by more people who knew her parents.

  “Violet’s Lock!” she said. It was a nice little cove along the C&O Canal, down River Road. On a nice day it got pretty crowded, but at night no one would be there. “Seriously, that would be so romantic tonight.”

  “Okay.” He put the car in gear and accelerated. “But that’s the kind of place all those stories take place with the bloody hook on the car door, you know.”

  She shuddered. “Do you think it’s dangerous?”

  He laughed. “I’m kidding! You’re so easy.”

  She snuggled closer and put her head down on his shoulder again, sighing contentedly. Maybe she was nuts, but she always felt completely whole when she was with him. “Not easy for everyone.”

  His hands tightened almost imperceptibly on the wheel, but he didn’t say anything.

  Bad subject. It had only been a few months since Pete Hagar. The whole thing seemed stupid now, but at the time the idea of being picked up in that Porsche of his and going to restaurants or movies or other places without David, Todd, Robert, or any of Nate’s other testosterone-heavy friends, was really appealing.