“You heard me. I don’t know why…”
“Love, it’s not like your family,” I said.
“My family is a mess too. In their own way.”
“It’s not quite a simple phone call.”
“Why not? She tries to contact you.”
“Yeah, she does,” I said. “There was a time when we didn’t talk all that much at all. And now she calls. She’ll send a text.”
“Why don’t you get back to her?”
“It’ll never be what it was,” I said.
“I’m not saying it will be. She knows that too, I’m sure. But time…”
I reached out and moved a piece of hair out of her face. “Why does this matter to you, Josie?”
“Because you matter to me,” she said. She put a hand to my chest. “And if there’s a piece of your life that you can have, you should. Even if it’s not what you want it to be or what it used to be. A loss that’s living…”
“I love you, Josie,” I said.
Her eyes went wide, and her mouth remained open as she fell silent.
It was the wrong time. The wrong place. Not the way I should have done it.
But here was the truth…
Her hair was a mess. She was naked under the comforter from my bed. Her eyes were still sleepy. Her breath smelled of sleep, smoke, and coffee. And to me, I couldn’t picture a more beautiful woman in my life. And on top of that, she was worried and protective of what I had left of my heart.
“I mean that,” I said. “I love you.”
I leaned in and kissed her forehead.
I started to move, and Josie took a handful of my shirt.
“Not so fast,” she said.
“I have to go get a coffee since you drank mine,” I said.
Josie looked deep into my eyes. “Crosby… I love you too.”
27
WANTING TO KNOW…
THEN
Josie
I put the final touches on my latest painting and stood up to stretch my back.
There was a soft knock at the door.
It opened a crack and I saw Paula’s face outside the door.
“You can come in,” I said.
The door opened all the way and in she came, carrying two mugs in her hand. She had the same puffy hairdo as when I first met her. She believed in the power of hairspray and bright colored makeup. To me, it was her way of covering up the stress. And trust me, if you saw her without makeup on, you’d know what that meant.
Her husband was an alcoholic who refused help.
And her son was the same.
There were times I told myself that the only reason I stuck it out with Denny was because of his mother.
Paula was the sweetest woman I had ever met. But she was also the saddest. And in some ways, she had no ability to stand up on her own and stand up for herself. When Big Dennis got too drunk and ended arguments with the back of his hand, Paula said it was okay because it was the booze doing it.
I made it very clear to Denny that if he even so much as lifted a hand in anger to me, I would cut his balls off and make him eat them. That was just my tough talk. Instead of doing what his father did, Denny just liked to break things. Or throw things too close to me for comfort.
And you do nothing about it, Josie. Ever.
“Oh, does that look beautiful,” Paula said. “Here, have a coffee. You deserve one after that.”
“Thank you,” I said. “It’s finally done.”
“I’m speechless,” she said. “I have no words right now. Nothing can be said.”
Then why are you talking, Paula?
I kept a smile on my face. “That means a lot coming from you.”
“This is going up in the gallery,” she said. “This will be sold in no time.”
Okay, it also helped my relationship with Denny that his mother’s best friend owned an art gallery and I had been giving them paintings to sell for a while now and was actually making a living as an artist. So much so that there was talk of me getting my own showcase. An entire section of the gallery dedicated to my artwork. And a night where people would come and look, ask questions, and buy. My chance to… break big…
“I want to take a picture of it and send it over to Leslie right now,” Paula said.
I laughed. “Let’s let the paint dry first.”
“I’m just very excited for you,” she said. “I’ve never had an artistic skill.”
You tell me that all the time, Paula.
“You have plenty of other talents,” I said.
“Oh, right. Being a housewife. Cooking. Cleaning. Sewing.”
“To be fair, you are amazing at everything you do,” I said. “You owned your own cleaning business. You took care of yourself and your family. You’re my hero…”
That was a stretch, but in so many ways, it was true.
Paula actually had a very busy cleaning business. There was a point when she had talks with investors who were going to franchise her business. That was right about when Big Dennis got into a DUI situation and everything fell apart for her.
I guess as much as I needed her sometimes, she needed me. I was probably the only sober and sane person in her life. And I was definitely the only person, other than her, who knew what it was like to deal with Big Dennis or Denny.
“Sit down for a second,” Paula said. “Sip your coffee. I want to talk to you.”
“Okay,” I said.
I sat back down and eyed my painting.
It was more or less an abstract of a field with flowers. I changed the colors and tones of the flowers to make them almost the opposite of what they should have been. The result was an explosion of color, but when you took the time to really look, you spotted each and every flower.
I was proud of it.
Damn proud of it.
Especially when you took into account everything that happened while I was painting it. That story, however, nobody would know but me.
Hell, it almost made me want to keep the painting for myself.
“This life isn’t easy, Josie,” Paula said.
“It has its moments,” I said. “It’s not always easy to paint.”
“Oh, I’m not talking about painting,” she said.
My heart sank. “Oh.”
“They don’t know what’s right and wrong. It’s like a demon is inside them. They fight it. They mean well. You believe that, don’t you? You believe he’s strong…”
“Of course I do,” I said. “I know Denny is strong. I see him. The good days and the bad.”
“I know the bad seems to outweigh the good, but that’s not the case.”
You’re wrong, Paula. It used to be all good days. Then some bad days. Now it’s all bad days. I can’t trick my mind like you do.
“I mean that,” Paula said. She touched my arm. “I hope to see you two married. And to see grandchildren running around. I know that’s a big statement to make right now. I can see your face getting nervous.”
Paula smiled.
I forced a laugh. “I, uh, I don’t…”
“Family has a way of fixing itself,” she said. “From the inside. When we had Denny, I never saw my husband so happy. So calm. So sober. I thought for sure the changes in our life would send him over the edge, but it was the opposite. He was attentive. Caring. He did everything for Denny. I used to get mad at him and remind him that I was Denny’s mother. I swear, if he could have produced milk…”
I crunched up my nose. “I get it.”
Paula squeezed my arm and stepped closer. I got a whiff of her pharmacy store perfume. The stuff Big Dennis bought for her birthday when he was coming home from work, realizing it was his wife’s birthday and he almost forgot about it. And Paula would wear that cheap smell like it was super fancy and expensive stuff from New York City.
“I think you should consider the same,” Paula said.
“The same…?” I asked.
“You and Denny are settled. And when men like him are settl
ed… well, too settled… that’s when things can get tough. You ever hear the saying about idle hands?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Something to do with the devil.”
“Meaning, as Denny sits there and grows more settled, those demons are louder.”
“Louder, huh?” I asked.
“Much louder, Josie. I know this sounds terrible. You can tell me this sounds terrible to hear.”
“No need,” I said. “I understand.”
“That’s why we love you the way we do,” Paula said. She leaned in and kissed my head. “I really think you should consider it. I know the idea of a lifetime with Denny right now seems scary, but it’s not. And I can promise you, big changes will help everyone.”
“Everyone?”
“Not just Denny.”
“Oh,” I said.
Paula was talking about her husband too.
So, if I would just marry Denny and have babies, it would suddenly make Denny a happy and loyal man, able to put down the bottle and be mine the way he used to be. And the ripple effect would then go to Denny’s father. Big Dennis would suddenly stop drinking too, because he would be an attentive and caring grandfather to the babies I would be having.
I licked my lips.
“I trust you with these words, Josie,” Paula whispered. “And think of all we can do together. You and me. You’re the daughter I never had. I’m sure when you start bringing in money from your paintings, that will help as well. Any sense of stability really does help.”
“So, I’m the one who marries him, has his kids, and makes all the money,” I said.
“Josie…”
I stood up and put my coffee cup down. I walked away from my drying painting and honestly felt like leaving the room and the house.
But I knew where Paula’s head and heart were. What she meant by the words she said.
“That painting really is lovely,” she said. “I can’t wait to see it sell. And I do hope you take good care of yourself, Josie. I didn’t mean for a second to take your hard-earned money and waste it on my son.”
I looked back and smiled. “Paula…”
“No,” she said. “I just want everyone to be happy. I envision us all as a big family. And maybe for me things are stale. I won’t use the word settled because nothing is settled. But it’s stale. You know how the house gets stuffy after a long winter? It smells of dust and heat and just… everything. And then finally you get that first nice spring day and you open the windows. You smell the flowers, trees, grass. You hear birds chirping. That’s just a breath of fresh air.”
“I understand,” I said. “I promise, I understand.”
Paula moved toward me and touched my arm. “I am not saying you ask Denny to get married. Heavens, no. It’s his job to make that decision and to get you the most expensive ring he can afford. It’s his job to spoil you and love you in a way no man ever could. I guess what I’m trying to say to you is… don’t let the bad outweigh the good. These situations are hard to face. They’re not fair, Josie. I’m not trying to say they are fair. But what I am saying is that the good… it’s good.”
There were a dozen or more questions on my mind.
Some of them right on the tip of my tongue.
Does Big Dennis fuck other women?
Aren’t you afraid that Big Dennis is going to drive one night and kill someone? If he does, what would that do to your life?
I didn’t ask those questions though. They’d get me nowhere.
It was better to just let Paula talk and let her walk away. She’d feel better about herself.
As she started to walk to the door, she looked at me and smiled. “I really like that painting, Josie. That might be your best one ever.”
“Don’t say that. I might want to keep it then.”
“And if you did, I wouldn’t hate you.”
“Thank you for always being in my corner with my artwork.”
“Of course. I don’t think Denny or his father have the eyes for this stuff. But just wait until you start making big money. Watch how fast their attitudes change.”
“Is that before or after I get married and pop out a few kids?”
Paula laughed.
She thought I was joking.
I wasn’t.
“You keep painting. I’ll go check on our patient.”
“No,” I said. “Let me. I need to get out of this room for a second.”
“Okay. Then I will send a picture of that painting…”
“Perfect,” I said.
I jumped at the door and got out of the room.
I knew what Paula wanted. She wanted to use my art as a distraction. She wanted to help sell it, take a cut, and have both of us make money. Which wasn’t the worst thing in the world. It was just…
I stopped at the bedroom door and didn’t knock. There was no knocking.
I opened the door and stepped inside the mostly dark room. The blinds were shut, the curtains pulled over the windows, but the bright sun still found its way into the room. The room stunk of vomit, gas, and booze.
It used to bother me. But now I was used to it.
The first thing I always did was stare at him to make sure he was breathing. I always thought his final gesture to me would be to die and have me find him.
His back lifted and lowered with a deep breath.
I stood at the side of the bed.
There was a glass of water on the nightstand. Along with a handful of pills. And a small bottle of vodka. Paula believed that the best way for them to chase away the hangover was to get that first drink out of the way.
Denny slept with his mouth open, looking like a dead and bloated fish. Drool and vomit trailed from his mouth. I’d clean it all up once he woke up for good for the day.
He was going to feel it though.
There was dry, crusted blood from the corner of his left eye and his bottom lip was swollen and glistening with blood.
He had run his mouth last night and gotten his ass kicked. So badly that Stewie called me. He owned the bar and said he saw someone drag Denny out back before he got killed. I called Paula for help and we got Denny home. Paula insisted I go paint while she took care of the house.
And here we were.
I stood there, staring down at Denny.
Paula wanted me to forget about this moment. She wanted me to marry this guy. And have his babies. Force myself to endure a life of fake, the way she did.
I told myself I couldn’t do it.
Yet I never walked away…
28
WANTING TO SEE…
NOW
Josie
I gently peeled my clothes apart and saw the paintings hidden in the back of the closet. The ones I had taken out. The ones Crosby had seen. The ones I put back into the closet where they belonged.
I was in love with Crosby. For everything he was. For everything he wasn’t. For the way he touched me, pushed at me, challenged me, and the way he looked at me and made me feel like things were actually going to be okay. He filled in the gaps of time and pain in a way nobody else could. While I could never say thank you enough to Corey and Kait (and Meadow) for what they had done to help me, Crosby understood everything.
And yet he knew… nothing.
It wasn’t easy to talk about Denny. And it wasn’t easy to admit that I still loved him. I never got my closure. I never said what I needed to say. I never got to step on his heart for a second, walk away, and find my way to get over it.
I backed away from the closet and shut the door.
There was no reason to fear telling Crosby anything.
It was just…
Things were good.
And settled.
I knew everything about him and it made me feel closer to him. I loved watching him write and record songs. I got to meet Jonny, who looked like a big, cuddly teddy bear. He reminded me of an old-school country and western singer. Except he didn’t have a southern accent at all. He was nice as hell, and knew how to p
ush Crosby’s buttons. They were perfect together though when they created music.
I even had a cigarette with Jonny one night and we both came to the conclusion that Crosby should be up on stage singing his own music, making his own career.
Of course, that was Crosby’s big decision to make.
My big decision was to figure out what to pack because Crosby wanted to take me camping. Camping as in put up a tent, build a fire, burn marshmallows, that kind of thing. Just for one night. He wanted to get away for a night and was going with or without me.
It was actually kind of romantic that he invited me. And it was even more romantic to picture us together in a tent. In the woods. Nobody around us. Sort of rugged and… anything could happen.
I was actually looking forward to bringing a notebook with me to work on some sketches. Just for fun. I had been working on the mural for a few days and it was a big project with a lot of oversight. That part I didn’t expect, nor did I really like. But I was going to finish that job for sure. The old stone wall at the park was an eyesore for kids and parents, so having a bright, colored mural would definitely make the park look more appealing.
There was a knock at the door to the guesthouse and that meant it was either Crosby or Corey. I asked Crosby if it was weird to have to walk along the side of the house to get to the guesthouse. Like he literally walked by windows that anyone inside could see him out of. Just to get to me.
Of course, his response was he would walk through hell to get a chance to see me.
He was sweet, gritty, and he meant every word.
I opened the door and Corey stood there.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“What?”
“That face. You can’t hide a thing from me.”
“Someone is at the house for you.”
“The house?”
“Yeah. My front door.”
I cringed.
That was a little weird. Having someone go to Corey’s front door looking for me.
I stepped forward and Corey touched my shoulder. “Hey, uh, I just want to give you a heads up…”
“Okay.”
“Do you want to know who’s at the door?”
“Sure,” I said.
I figured it was someone about the mural. Some town representative or whatever to ask questions or bug me about the project.
Getting Over You Page 20