Running from Romeo

by Diane Mannino

  “Thank you.” I manage a slight smile.

  “Good girl. Now, eat some of this.” Taking the glass from my hand, he hands me a banana.

  “Is this your hangover cure?” I say as I peel the banana back and take a bite.

  “I used to just drink again in the morning when I had a killer hangover and that usually cured it…that or I’d smoke some pot.”

  “Seriously? I have a hard time picturing that. You are always so…so careful and in control.”

  He laughs. “I told you. I was quite careless and out of control for a long time. Meeting you made me want to change. Is that so hard for you to understand?” He asks softly.

  “You must think I’m a mess. I didn’t even drink that much last night and here I am feeling the after affects.” I nibble on the banana.

  “You’re not a mess, Emilia…far from it. Besides, you probably just have a splitting headache because you mixed alcohol and I bet you didn’t drink any water. Am I right?” He asks softly.

  “Right.” I pause and then add, “You are a bit of an expert.”

  “That’s putting it mildly.” He says with certainty. “How are you feeling now? Would you like some more Gatorade?”

  “No. Thank you. I feel much better.” I sigh.

  “Maybe you should run later.”

  “That’s probably a good idea.” I glance over at the clock. “Besides I have to get to work soon.”

  “Can I drop you off?” He asks, but there’s a slight edge to his voice.

  “What’s the matter?” I ask, confused by his tone.

  “Nothing…why?”

  “You asked if you could drop me off and you sound odd.” I shrug and I lean closer to him.

  “Odd?” He seems confused.

  “Is this about the space thing?” I ask because that’s the only thing that I can think of that might be bothering him. “I thought we agreed that we’d decide when break gets closer.”

  “We did. I just think there’s more to it. Put yourself in my shoes. If I said I think we need space, wouldn’t you question me?” He stares into my eyes.

  I lie back on the propped pillow. He’s right. It all keeps coming back to this, my refusal to not be totally honest about my past.

  As much as I think I should push him away, I know in my heart I can’t, but will he want to stay once I tell him? I don’t know and that thought alone makes my heart ache with overwhelming sadness.

  “Emilia, what is it?” He whispers and moves closer, his hand softly caressing my cheek.

  “I just had a tough start in life.” I breathe. “It was hard losing my mom but there’s other stuff.”

  “Please tell me.”

  “I can’t.” I whisper.

  “Can’t or won’t? He asks softly. “I thought we were going to be honest with each other.”

  “I’m trying and I’ve told you some.”

  “Well, you can try and push me away by telling me you need space but I’m not going anywhere. So one of these days I hope you will be completely honest with me.”

  I blink at him. “I’m sorry.”

  “You're sorry because you can’t be completely honest with me now or because you can’t be completely honest with me ever?”

  I swallow. “Now. I just don’t want to burden you.”

  “Is that what you think?” He sighs. “I can promise you that you would never be a burden to me. Besides nobody’s perfect. We all have flaws…look at all mine.”

  I smile at him, slightly. The irony is not lost on me. As far as appearances go he is completely flawless. In fact, he is perfect. Sure, he may have some inward weaknesses but his flaws don’t seem nearly as damaging as mine.

  “I should probably change for work.” I say.

  “You. Are. All. I. Want.” He says between kisses. “Do you understand?”

  “I’ll meet you downstairs.” He runs a hand through his hair and then turns to leave.

  Quickly I move into the bathroom and wash my face. I decide to postpone my shower until this afternoon when I run. Once I undress, I pull on a pair of jeans and a black fitted Billabong long sleeve shirt. After pulling my hair up into a loose topknot, I fasten on my locket and head downstairs.

  Logan is leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking a bottle of Fiji water when I see him. He smiles when his eyes meet mine and he walks towards me pulling me into his arms.

  “Do you have to look so irresistible for work?” His hands are on my waist as he gazes down at me.

  “I’m in an old pair of jeans and a ratty old shirt. I didn’t shower and my hair is a disaster. You find me irresistible?” I giggle.

  He gently strokes my cheek and then moving his hand to the back of my head, pulls me close and passionately kisses me. He pulls back and gazes down at me.

  “Yes. Irresistible.” He breathes.

  “Would you rather I change into my French maid outfit?” I tease

  “You change into that, you definitely won’t be going to work.”

  “Then I guess I’m ready to go.” I smile.

  “Maybe I should take Rosemary up on her offer.” He says as he takes my hand and we head out the front door.

  “To make some extra money or for a discount on boards and surf gear?”

  “Yes, for both those reasons.” He smirks.

  “Rosemary would be quite happy.” I slide into the passenger seat as he holds the door open.

  In a second, he’s in the driver’s seat, starting the engine. “How about you? Would it make you happy?” He asks and at first I think he’s still joking, but when he looks at me, his eyes are full of sincerity.

  “Yes.” I say honestly. “But I don’t think us working together would last long.”

  He pulls the car in reverse out of the driveway. “Why is that?”

  “You’d get fired.” I smile.

  “I’d get fired?” He laughs.

  “Yes. You’d be a total distraction. I’d get no work done.”

  “Then you have that wrong. You’d get fired.” He smirks.

  I giggle. “Maybe you’d quit because of sexual harassment in the workplace?” I ask innocently.

  “Hmm. Would you harass me?” He asks as he attempts to stifle a smile.

  “Maybe.” I smile.

  “In that case, I’ll start work today.” He says as he pulls into a parking spot behind Spyder.

  “Thanks for the ride and for last night. I really enjoyed meeting your parents. Well, your dad, since I already met your mom.” I say and smile.

  “I enjoyed meeting your dad too.” He pauses for a moment and then adds, “Do you have plans after work?”

  “Run and shower. I’m laying low tonight. We have our last big meet on Sunday. Are you going out with Sebastian since you’ve been such a bad friend to him lately?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Exactly.” His tone drips with sarcasm. “He’s not bad when he’s sober so maybe I’ll grab a drink with him and then sneak off. Can I keep you company while you lay low?”

  “I’d like that.” I say.

  “See you later, baby.” He leans over and kisses me gently on the lips.

  I climb out of the Porsche and head into the store. Mr. and Mrs. Sutton are just sorting through the latest shipment of shirts, shorts, and bathing suits.

  “Good morning.” I smile.

  “Hi, honey.” Mrs. Sutton says. “You mind giving me a hand?” She’s holding a stack of shirts towards me.

  “Sure.” I say grabbing them. “You want me to hang them?”

  “That would be great.”

  “Hey Emilia, did you bring those hormone things with you today?” He smiles at me.

  Mrs. Sutton rolls her eyes way up to the ceiling. “Jeez, Sam. They’re called pheromones.”

  “Hormones. Pheromones. Kind of the same thing if you ask me.” He says as he breaks down a box and places it in the recycle bin.

  “Um. No.” Mrs. Sutton says dryly.

  I giggle. “Hoping I sell some more boards today?�
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  Mr. Sutton laughs. “You know that was our most profitable day ever?”

  “That’s awesome.” I smile as I sort and hang the new shirts.

  “Did you have a nice visit with your dad?” Mrs. Sutton asks.

  “I did. Thanks. We had some drinks, went to dinner. It was great to see him.”

  Mr. Sutton finishes breaking down the rest of the empty boxes and then walks around the store, surveying the inventory.

  “You’ll be okay if I head out for a bit?” He says to Mrs. Sutton.

  “Aren’t we always?” She smirks.

  “Thanks, babe.” He says as he playfully hits Mrs. Sutton on the bottom.

  Then he turns to me. “Logan surfing today?”

  My mouth drops open. “What?” I ask, confused. I know Mrs. Sutton has met Logan. But Mr. Sutton? On top of that, he asked about him surfing.

  Mr. Sutton is unfazed by my surprised reaction. “Did he say if he was going to surf?”

  “Um. No. He didn’t mention it.” My mind is still reeling with this interesting tidbit.

  He shrugs. “Well, maybe I’ll see him out there.” He pauses for a second and then adds, “You two ladies are in charge. Please do your best to make us some money.”

  Mrs. Sutton rolls her eyes again. “Alright, that’s enough from you. You better get out of here before I make you stay with us and help with all this restocking.”

  “You can’t keep me from surfing, Rosemary.” He smiles.

  “We’ve been married for too long for me not to realize that.” She laughs.

  “You know what they say about surfing, Emilia?” Mr. Sutton asks with a serious look on his face.

  “If everybody had an ocean across the U.S.A. then everybody be surfin’ like Californ-I-A.” I giggle, stealing the line from The Beach Boys’ classic, “Surfin’ U.S.A.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Sutton laugh.

  “Well, yes. That’s true but you know what else they say?”

  I shake my head. Mr. Sutton and his surfing…his passion is palpable.

  “Surfing is like the mafia. Once you’re in, you’re in. There’s no getting out.”

  I laugh at his amusing metaphor.

  “Oh, brother, Sam. Did Al Pacino or Shakespeare say that powerful, earth shattering quote?” Mrs. Sutton laughs.

  “Kelly Slater.” He smiles, referring to one of the greatest surfers of all time. Grabbing his board, he turns and heads out the back door.

  Mrs. Sutton shakes her head. “He’s still a bit of a kid, isn’t he?”

  The rest of the morning is quiet as Mrs. Sutton and I continue with our busy work. We put shirts on hangers, fold shorts, stack, pile, and the next time I look at the clock it’s just before noon.

  “You sure are quiet today, Emilia. Is everything okay?” Mrs. Sutton smiles warmly at me.

  “Yes.” I smile, reassuringly.

  I hadn’t realized how much time had gone by while we worked in silence. I cannot get my mind off Logan and regret ever saying anything about needing space. I said I wanted to spend Thanksgiving with my dad and I should have left it at that. But then he was pressuring me into flying to New York. I certainly don’t feel comfortable accepting his invitation to fly on their private jet or to pay for the plane fare. The thought of him knowing that I’m not being honest with him also weighs heavily on me.

  “Boy troubles.” Mrs. Sutton says, sympathetically. “You know you can always talk to me about anything. I was once your age and I know how hard it is dealing with all that.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Sutton.” I smile.

  “You know you are like a daughter to Mr. Sutton and I. I don’t want to add to your boy troubles but Laird is coming home for Thanksgiving.”

  Laird is Mr. and Mrs. Sutton’s only child. He’s the antithesis of his parents, which is somewhat amusing to me. He’s a bit uptight, very serious about his studies, and most surprisingly he’s not passionate about surfing.

  He studies International Relations at Brown University and even though he could find surf in Providence, Rhode Island, he prefers not to. Although his interests are far from his dad’s, his parents couldn’t love him more and be more proud of him.

  “That’ll be nice.” I say.

  “I’m sure you are planning to spend the holiday with your dad but if you aren’t going home you are more than welcome to spend it with us.”

  What is this, everyone wants to spend Thanksgiving with me? I’m thankful, no pun intended, for the gracious offers but I’m just not accustomed to it.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Sutton. But I’m planning on going home. How long is Laird’s break?”

  “He’s off for the week. I know he’ll be happy to see you.” She smiles.

  “It’ll be nice to see him too.” I say honestly, because I do like Laird, he’s like a brother to me.

  “You know I’ve always secretly wished you two would get together. I think he’s always had a little crush on you and besides you know how much I adore you.”

  I flush. I’ve always suspected as much but to hear Mrs. Sutton confirm my thoughts makes me a bit uncomfortable.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Sutton. But you know Laird is like a brother to me.”

  “Oh, I know, sweetheart and I know you and Logan are crazy about each other. Can’t blame me for wishing.” She giggles.

  I decide to slightly shift the topic of conversation.

  “Now, how did Laird escape the mafia?” I smile.

  “Oh, I don’t think he’s actually escaped it. When he was younger he surfed all the time. Sam took him out every chance he could get. But he’s got other interests now. I don’t think he’s as passionate about it as his dad but I think he definitely gets a thrill out of it. I don’t think you ever lose that.”

  I smile.

  A few minutes later, a group of customers enter the store.

  “Hey, Emilia.” Tyler says, clutching a bag in his hand.

  “Oh, Hi, Tyler. How’s everything?” I smile at him. I realize I haven’t seen him since the last time he played at Soho and I left with Logan.

  “Good. I just thought I’d bring you something to eat. I know how busy it gets here and I thought you might be hungry.” He hands me the bag in his hand.

  “That’s really sweet. Thank you.” I take the bag. “By the way, I didn’t get a chance to tell you, you sounded great last weekend.”

  “Thanks. Thanks for coming.” He smiles and looks around a bit nervously.

  Logan’s assertion that I should tell Tyler I’m off limits surfaces in my head. But I honestly, just don’t know how to bring that up. Besides, he must be getting the picture. Surely he saw Logan and I that night and there was no mistaking that we were together. I’m sure of that much. I glance at the other customers in the store.

  “Well, thanks for the lunch. I better get back to work.”

  “I actually want to buy another board.” He smiles.

  “Oh?” I can hear Mr. Sutton’s voice in my head about hormones and pheromones.

  “I already know the one I want. I just want to buy it.” He walks towards the boards and grabs one of the Channel Islands boards.

  I glance over at Mrs. Sutton but she’s busy at the front of the store, helping someone with a pile of shorts that we spent most of the morning organizing.

  Moving towards the register, I put the lunch bag that Tyler brought me underneath the shelf then I turn to him and ring up the board.

  “That’ll be six hundred and forty three dollars, please.” I glance at Tyler. He smiles at me and hands me his Visa.

  “So are you going out tonight?” He asks.

  “No. I have a big meet tomorrow. You?”

  “I’m not sure.” He shrugs.

  “Are you going home for break?” He asks. I look up at him, probably a bit too suspiciously. I can’t hide my surprise in everyone’s sudden interest in my Thanksgiving plans.

  “I am.” I hand him the copy of the credit card receipt. “I guess you don’t need a bag.” I giggle.

 
“No. I’m good. Well, it was nice seeing you.”

  “You too.” I say as he turns to leave.

  “Oh, thanks again for lunch.” I call after him.

  “Sure. See you later, Emilia.”

  I feel a bit uneasy as Tyler leaves the store. I’m disappointed with myself for not saying anything about Logan but I just don’t know how to throw it into the conversation. Besides, Tyler thankfully, didn’t ask me out. Maybe he’s even dating one of those girls from his fan club. That would come as no surprise to me. I shrug it off and get back to work.

  The rest of the day goes fairly fast with a steady stream of customers. Mr. Sutton returns shortly after Tyler purchases the board. When he notices that I sold another board, he playfully winks at me and gives me the thumbs up.

  When I arrive home after work, Bryn is in the kitchen working on her laptop. She looks up and smiles at me when I walk in and grab a bottle of water from the fridge. I sit down on the barstool next to her.

  “Do my eyes deceive me or are you doing work on a Saturday night?” I smile.

  “Yes. Shocking, eh?” She smiles. “I’m almost done and then I’m headed out with Josh. You want to come with or do you have plans with Logan?”

  “I’m just laying low tonight. I have a meet tomorrow.” I say as I stand up and head back to the fridge. Opening it, I stand surveying my options.

  “How was work?” She asks, not looking up from her computer.

  “Fine. It was busy in the afternoon.” I murmur and then add, “You want a piece of leftover chicken potpie?”

  “Thanks.”

  “How did everything go last night with Josh’s parents?” I ask as I pop the leftovers in the microwave.

  “Good, really good. Did you survive your night? What was Logan’s father like?”

  “He was charming, like his son. I don’t know. There’s not much to say. I guess it went fine.” I shrug and then sit back down next to her, putting the two dishes down.

  “This looks delicious, Emilia. Is this what you made the other night?” She takes a forkful and softly blows on it.

  “Hmm…yes. Incidentally, Logan asked me to fly to New York for Thanksgiving.” I say as I take a bite.

  “Wow. He’s totally into you. I could see you all in the bar last night and he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”