Reye's Gold (Indigo)

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Reye's Gold (Indigo) Page 18

by Robinson, Ruthie


  “Are you bisexual?” Stephen didn’t respond. “It’s okay, you know, being bisexual. I’ve had lots of friends who are. Was Reye your old boyfriend?”

  He barked out a laugh, torn between horror and humor at her comment.

  Not answering, he turned to face her. “I wish I could join you in bed, babe, but I’ve got to get to work.”

  Stephen hadn’t been to work at his dad’s office in six months either. He’d gone into the office a total of two days right after he’d returned home. He found that he couldn’t sit still, let alone focus on studying for any bar exam.

  “Maybe another time,” he said, noting the annoyance on her face. “Why don’t you go find your clothes? Give me a second here and I’ll walk you out.” She left and he turned to brush his teeth. He splashed water on his face and reached in the laundry for a pair of old jeans. His laundry overflowed; that which wasn’t on the ground was stuffed into the hamper. He needed to have someone wash his clothes again. By the time he was done in the bathroom, Angel was dressed and waiting for him by the front door, looking more alive than he felt.

  She reached up and placed a kiss on his lips. “Call me. I left my number on the counter in your kitchen. I had a good time,” she said.

  “Me, too,” he said, even if he had only a vague recollection of the evening. Ushering her through the door and shutting it behind her, he leaned against the closed door. He had to stop doing this.

  He walked over to the counter in his kitchen in search of his phone. He needed to check his calendar, knowing it would be empty. He looked around his apartment, which was also empty. He had a sofa and lamp in the living room and a bed in his bedroom. That was it. No kitchen table, or any tables for that matter. He usually ate standing up, if he ate at all. More and more frequently his diet consisted of liquids. Finding his phone, he checked his calendar, and, as he’d expected, there were no appointments. His phone rang, the caller ID identifying the caller as his mother. That one word had the power to make his blood boil and his anger come crashing back, always focused at her. He blamed her for his breakup with Reye. He’d listened to her, like a momma’s boy, not wanting to disappoint, giving over to her concerns regarding Reye and what it would mean to his career and her expectations. Look where it had gotten him, lonely and alone.

  “Hello, Mother, what can I do for you today?” Most of the time he avoided her, didn’t go by the house or answer her calls, but today he was in a mood to punish, so he’d answered.

  “Stephen, I’m glad you’re answering your phone today.”

  Her comment was met with silence.

  “Stephen?”

  “What?” His tone dripped with disdain.

  “We are hosting a dinner party tonight, one that you promised to attend. It would mean a lot to your dad, and don’t think about backing out at the last minute. You’ve not attended one thing since you’ve been home. This dinner is very important for the firm.”

  Silence.

  “Stephen, do you hear me?”

  “What time?”

  “Seven for cocktails, dinner will be served at eight.”

  Stephen hung up without saying goodbye, grabbing a beer from the refrigerator and taking a seat on the sofa. He had ESPN to catch up on.

  * * *

  Reye—six months later

  Reye pulled up to an older, two-story house with a for sale sign standing in the yard and a foreclosure notice on the door. Getting out of her truck, she walked over to pull the sign up, beyond excited. This house was to be the location of the new non-profit she would head. It was an old-fashioned two-story home built in the 1940s and located about two blocks from the center. She and her dad had closed on the house yesterday. She was meeting him here for a walk-through, to make a list of the needed repairs and renovations, along with a timeline for getting them done. Her father had agreed to help her make it livable.

  While she waited, she took a moment to reflect on all that she’d accomplished A.S., After Stephen. The breakup with him had left her heartbroken. Six months ago, she could barely get through the days; just thinking about Stephen could still make her cry, but now crying was limited to the privacy of her home. If loving someone could do that to a person, she didn’t want any part of it ever again. Sam and her dad were working hard to convince her otherwise. Never was a long time, but nope, she was never falling in love again. No, thank you very much. From now on, she would give her time and her love to people who needed it, who would appreciate it and not throw it away because things got difficult. No more giving it away to golden beautiful men with great bodies, great hands, great mouths, and who knew how to use them. Or who were smart and funny, or . . . Enough already, she told herself, shaking her head, wanting to erase his image from her mind. He still haunted her thoughts, though. It had been six months and she still felt unusually hurt, used, and alone.

  She walked back to her truck and leaned against it, waiting for her dad. It had taken her weeks to stop crying, but somehow she had. She’d learned to cope by plunging headlong into work at the center. She’d accepted the offer to work, foregoing teaching in the public school system, hoping she’d have the freedom to try new ideas.

  The center’s administration had recognized and was committed to providing good quality after-school and child care. They’d asked her to help develop a good summer program at a time when she’d needed a mission. Working on a shoestring budget, using the center as the home base, she’d put together the basic framework of a summer school, using the children who had attended the aftercare program to start. Most of their parents worked during the day and were more than willing to turn them over to her for the summer, a much more attractive alternative to keeping them home alone to watch television all day long. They had gotten to know Reye through the aftercare program and as coach of the soccer team and felt comfortable with her, excited even.

  Using her paycheck to subsidize more than a few trips, she filled the kids’ days with any and all types of activities designed to keep them, and herself, occupied. She signed them up for a swim team through a local neighborhood association. Swim practice began at six most mornings, so Reye borrowed the center’s van and picked the kids up early, leaving her home around five a.m. Swim meets were on Saturday and took up most of the day, but that was okay by her. They visited any and all museums in the city and the surrounding areas. They went to an endless list of parks, movies, and libraries.

  She spent time working with them on their soccer skills as they continued to play in the summer league, and she promised she’d coach again in the fall. She pushed them to read, to practice their writing, and to improve their math skills. There would be no chance this summer of them forgetting what they had learned the previous year. If a parent needed a babysitter, she was available. She kept herself busy, and, in the process, stumbled upon her dream job, her passion. Working with the children was exhausting sometimes, but she loved it, loved them, loved seeing them exposed to new things and ideas. She loved watching them grow. Six months ago she had plowed all her emotional energy into this program. It had been her salvation, the kids her saviors, and she’d grown up a little on the way.

  She’d learned that it was okay to love, painful sometimes, but okay, and to love completely. She didn’t regret her love for Stephen, but going forward she would require more from her men; they would have to love her, too.

  She looked up from her musings to see her dad’s truck pull in behind her. She met him as he got out of his truck. He grabbed her in a great, big hug, lifting her off of the ground.

  “So, baby girl, are you ready to get started? I think your house needs more than a little work.”

  “I agree, but I think its needs are mostly cosmetic. The structure is sound, good bones as they say. The prior owner, before losing it to foreclosure, had the foundation reconstructed.”

  “Well, do you have the key and your clipboard ready?”

  “I do, sir,” she said, bringing forth old memories of her and her dad repairing and res
toring homes together. She’d spent many a summer and holiday following him around, trying to keep up and jotting down all the things he shouted to her. He loved this type of work. She didn’t have the same passion for it, but she’d learned to appreciate the transformation that hard work could bring.

  * * *

  Later on that evening Stephen parked outside his parents’ home. Earlier his dad had called and cautiously reminded him to attend. He missed talking to his dad, and it hurt to see the disappointment in his eyes resulting from the current state of his life. He’d been a little disappointed that his dad hadn’t pushed him more to find out what was wrong, but equally grateful for being left alone.

  He continued to sit in his car, contemplating the scene inside. Judging from the number of cars, it was quite a gathering. He got out of the car and walked up to the front door. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and went in.

  The dinner party appeared to be in progress. Men and women his parents’ age stood around in various groups discussing who knew what. His mother excused herself and walked over to greet him.

  “Hello, Stephen,” she said, lifting her face for a kiss. Instead, he ignored her. He liked the way her face looked in shock at his snub in front of her friends. He could be mean sometimes. These were the friends he had to give up Reye for, a bunch of snobs. He ignored his mother and walked over to the sideboard looking for something to eat, realizing that he hadn’t eaten today. The expression on his face must have reflected how he felt because people in the party parted like he was Moses and they the Red Sea. He didn’t smile as he picked up a plate and filled it with something small and adorably edible. He left the room, going upstairs to his old room, where he and his food sat in a chair and watched a basketball game.

  He must have fallen asleep, waking up a couple of hours later to a much quieter house. He sat up just as his mother entered, anger lining her face.

  “How dare you make me look like a fool. You should have stayed home.”

  “What?” Anger simmered just below the surface of his composure. “I did what you asked. You wanted me here, so I’m here,” he shouted.

  “Keep your voice down. What is wrong with you, all that money spent on your education and you’re wasting it. All you do is sit around all day feeling sorry for yourself. When you’re not chasing girls, drinking, and partying, that is!”

  “What? Now you’re disappointed in your son? Is that it? Aren’t I dating and fucking the right shade of girls for you?”

  “You will not talk to me in that manner. See, that’s what dating women who aren’t your kind does for you!”

  “You don’t say another word about Reye. I stopped seeing her for you and Dad and the suffocating expectations you’ve set for me. So you can go to hell!”

  “You didn’t stop seeing her because I said so. When have you ever done anything other than what you wanted? I’ve never been able to make you do something unless you wanted to. So stop blaming me for your leaving her. I’m sick of it!”

  He pushed past her and stormed down the stairs. His dad stepped out of the study. His face was unsure, worried.

  “What is going on here? Why are you shouting at your mother?” Stephen didn’t respond.

  “Stephen. What’s all this about?”

  “You really don’t know? You should ask your wife,” Stephen said, continuing his march out of the front door, slamming it behind him. He got into his car, squealed out of the drive, and drove away. He stopped at a light, fuming, his mother’s words reverberating in his head.

  She was right, of course. It wasn’t her fault, not really. He was really angry at himself for being a wimp, for not standing up for something that meant so much to him. He sat at the light absorbing that realization. All this time, he’d been drinking and angry at himself, punishing himself for his treatment of Reye. His only redemption was that at the time, he hadn’t realized that she’d meant so much to him.

  Later on that night, he sat alone on the sofa in his apartment, holding a bottled water. He couldn’t bring himself to get another beer. He was done with that. It was dark in the room, save for the lights from the Dallas skyline that twinkled as he watched them through the windows of his apartment. He listened to music, something by John Meyer that reminded him of his time spent, like this, with Reye. He missed those nights, missed her. Nights spent with her on her couch, lights out, except for a candle or two, listening to music and each other. Mostly she talked and he listened. He stared out at the city and recalled the earlier confrontation he’d had with his mom and dad. He shouldn’t have said those things to her. He hadn’t meant them, he loved her. Sure, he felt pressure from her, but ultimately it had been his decision to end it with Reye, not his mother’s. Joe had called him a coward, and he had been. He’d chosen the path of least resistance, or so it had seemed like it at the time. He hadn’t counted on the pain he’d later feel, along with the regrets. He’d been the coward, the one that wasn’t willing to be uncomfortable or to lose his favor as the golden boy. He could have, she’d asked him to, and he’d walked away, he’d let her down, and he’d regretted it immensely.

  His doorbell rang. Some brave soul coming to visit the lion in his den, he thought sadly to himself. He’d been a wounded lion with a thorn in its paw that bit the heads of those who ventured near to help. Another regret. Since he’d been home, he’d insulted or offended just about anyone who was close to him or came close to him. He turned on the light next to his sofa and went to answer the door. It was his dad. He opened the door and his dad entered.

  “This is the first time I’ve seen your new place,” he said. “It’s nice, a little sparse, but nice.”

  “Yes, it is. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “I’ll take a bottled water, if you have one.”

  “I do.” Stephen went to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle from the refrigerator, returning to find his dad gazing out the window.

  “This is a nice view.”

  “It was the main reason I bought the apartment,” Stephen said, handing the bottle of water to his dad. “Dad, let me say that I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things to Mom today. I’ll go by and apologize tomorrow. I was angrier than I’d realized.”

  “You know, son, I had a talk with your mother after you left. I had no idea that you were dating someone in Austin last year or that she’d meant so much to you. You never said. I thought you would eventually settle down with Beth, thought you liked her. I was surprised by the outburst today, but it explains your behavior since you’ve been home, your not being at the office.”

  “It’s not your or Mom’s fault,” Stephen said. Taking a deep breath and starting at the beginning, he told his dad about Reye, how they met and why she had become special to him. He’d become emotional during the telling, stopping several times to regain his composure. It was the first time he’d talked to anyone since their breakup. His dad listened without interruption or comment until he’d finished.

  “You know, son, when I was eighteen, before I met your mother, there was a girl that I had grown up with, a beautiful African-American girl, Anna. Her dad worked for your grandfather, doing odd jobs around our house. It was a different time back then. We played together, long past the time that we should have. We went to dif ferent high schools, but she would come over to the house to help her dad from time to time. She was beautiful, and at eighteen, no one could have told me anything. Anyway, I wanted to marry her, and told anyone that would listen to me. Can you imagine her father’s response, and your grandfather’s? He would not hear of such a thing, and if he could have shot me, he would have.” His dad was quiet for a minute, lost in his own thoughts. “Anyway, her family moved away abruptly and I searched all over town and the surrounding areas for her. Of course your grandfather knew where they’d moved, but he wouldn’t tell me. I was angry with him for a long time after that. I went on to college, met and fell in love with your mother. I don’t know if Anna and I could have withstood the challenges we woul
d have faced during those times. I’m telling you this to say that I understand what you feel. I know that anger and sadness that can come from letting someone you love leave.” Stephen sat looking at his dad, his eyes filling with tears again.

  His dad continued. “Here’s the way I see it. You’ve got choices. You can blame your mother and yourself until you are old and grey, or you can recognize the wrong and either try to make it right or move on. That decision has to be yours. It’s been what, six months? Do you think it’s worth going back to see if she would be willing to try again? Women can be unforgiving sometimes. If she loved you as much as you thought, don’t you think you should try?”

  “I don’t know.”

  His dad looked at him intently. “I also need you at the firm. You’ve got to take the bar exam and pass it so you can get on with your life whether or not you work it out with her. She really might not be willing to take a chance on you again if you’re unemployed,” he said with a chuckle.

  Stephen gave him a watery smile.

  “I’d better get home. You know your mother will be calling anytime now.” He stood up and started to walk to the front door. Stephen followed, reaching out to grab his dad in a hug.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “You’re welcome. I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning at the office.”

  “Yes, I’ll be there.”

  * * *

  Reye sat behind her desk in her office at the center and reread the invitation a second time. “You will be honored at the Twenty-fifth Foundation and Christmas Charity Gala to be held on December 23 for your outstanding contributions to the lives of Texas children.” The ball was to be held in Dallas at the Grand Hotel, one of the finest hotels in Dallas, six weeks away. She’d been nominated by Susan and the center’s board of directors for her work with the kids in both the after-school and summer programs. She was beyond honored. Hell, she should be the one honoring them. She looked out of her window, reflecting again on the hurt Stephen caused.

 

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