Somebody Else’s Sky: Something in the Way, 2

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Somebody Else’s Sky: Something in the Way, 2 Page 12

by Jessica Hawkins


  I took a drag of my cigarette. All the times I’d fantasized about Lake inside, and when she was standing right in front of me, I couldn’t even speak to her. What the fuck was there to say? I’d wanted to fall to my knees and pay homage. To overwhelm myself in her. Soak my senses with her. Touch her body, smell her neck, taste her mouth, hear her moan, feel her relief that I was home.

  And still, she made me so fucking mad, demanding answers, pushing me places I didn’t want to go, wearing an outfit that’d rouse a dead man. If just being in her presence was enough for me to feel the blood rushing through my veins, having anything more with her would be too explosive. I couldn’t do explosive. Not with my history. I’d destroy everything good about her . . .

  I looked up at a noise in the doorway. In a terrycloth robe, Tiffany held a glass of water and a Domino’s box. “It’s half pepperoni, half Meatlovers. I wasn’t sure what you like.”

  I swallowed thickly. That small gesture brought me back to where I should be—to this bedroom, to Tiffany. It’d been so long since anyone had taken care of me. Had made me a monster sandwich or explained the constellations to me or put a roof over my head. Over the years, those I thought I’d taken care of had actually been taking care of me. “Thanks, babe,” I said and meant it. “It’s perfect.”

  She smiled a little and came into the room. “You look hot.”

  “A little.”

  She set the stuff down and flipped a switch for the overhead fan. On her way back to me, she pulled a bottle from her robe pocket. “I took this from the house for you. It’s the bourbon my dad drinks, so it must be good.”

  I looked longingly at the liquor. I could count on one hand the sips of alcohol I’d gotten behind bars, and I fucking missed it. “Wish I could, but I have that meeting with the parole officer at three. What time is it?”

  “Noon.”

  “Fuck. Normally by this time, I’d have already had breakfast, lunch, and worked half a day.”

  She played with the bedsheet. “You were so tired. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  I kept my half-smoked cigarette in hand and chugged the water in one go.

  “We’re not supposed to smoke in here,” she said.

  I shook my head. “Have to be able to smoke if I’m gonna stay here, Tiff. I can’t not do it.”

  She sighed. “All right. We might have to disable the fire alarm.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed at my cigarette. I didn’t want to set off the alarm and have to get up just yet. I dropped it in the remains of the water. “Didn’t think of that.”

  She took a paper plate from the top of the pizza box and lifted the lid. “How’s pepperoni sound?”

  “After sex, a good night’s sleep, and a cigarette, exactly what I need.”

  She gave me a slice. “Good,” she said flatly.

  “Was it too much last night?” I asked, worried I’d scared her. “You have to tell me if it’s too much.”

  She smiled. “It was great. It’s just that we, like, didn’t kiss very much.”

  I set the paper plate on the nightstand. “C’mere.”

  She leaned in. I took her by the back of her neck and pecked her mouth a few times. It wasn’t enough to thank her for what she’d already given me, but I had to ease into any kind of intimacy. Tiffany and Lake were worlds apart in my eyes, but I couldn’t ignore their physical similarities, and I didn’t want to imagine Lake during this part. Not even for a second. After I locked Lake into another part of my brain, I kissed Tiffany for real, as a boyfriend would his girlfriend.

  When she pulled back, I focused on things that were unique to Tiffany, the way her nose turned up a little at the end, or the unusual, icy shade of her eyes. She had freckles, dark little ones around her chest and face, including a faint one that could’ve been a beauty mark.

  “This is nice,” she said softly. “I like to see you.”

  She didn’t deserve to feel like I didn’t care. I’d have to make more of an effort to show her that. “Thanks for all you did. Coming to the arraignment when you didn’t have to. Dealing with my landlord, the truck, my furniture. I won’t forget it.” She’d gone above and beyond for me. I’d told Grimes to give her my things, but I’d pretty much expected her to turn them down. Instead, she’d stepped up to the plate. “And you can kiss me, you know. You don’t have to wait for me to do it.”

  “I . . .” She looked into my eyes. “I love you.”

  “I know.” Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t really capable of returning it. I had lost Maddy, my entire family even, at an age when I was learning what love was. Maybe one day, with the right person, I would’ve figured out how to move past that, but not after what I’d seen inside. I was pretty sure I’d never let myself get too deep with anyone now. People were fucked. Life was fucked. If I loved someone, they could be taken away from me at any time.

  It was a lesson I’d had to learn twice, and no way in hell would there be a third.

  11

  Manning

  Gary came out of my apartment with a beer in each hand just as I turned off the sander. I’d set aside a couple days to build an entertainment unit for the apartment, but with Gary’s help, it’d only taken us the afternoon. The complex had a large, open lawn by the pool, so we’d set up near the closest outlet. I followed Gary to some chaise lounges from the pool he’d moved under a tree. I dragged mine a few feet over, my back to the trunk, so I could see the whole lawn.

  “That didn’t take very long,” Gary said, adjusting his seat next to mine. “Maybe we should keep going. You guys need anything else?”

  “Coffee table. Dresser. The kitchen cabinets are shit. You name it, we probably need it.”

  “Then we’ll have a beer and do some more.”

  I shook my head. “I still have to put the stain on, and I only picked out enough wood for the TV stand.”

  Gary shrugged. “Next week then.”

  “Hope to have a job by next week.”

  “Yeah? What you got going on?”

  I sipped beer and looked across the lawn at nothing. I’d been back in the real world two months with nothing to show for it. A part-time position at a garage and a few construction jobs here and there—barely enough to give Tiffany half of each month’s rent, forget food or anything else. “I’m working with my PO, but his caseload is so heavy, he isn’t much help. There might be an opening on a site in Santa Ana. One of the guys got hurt, so I’m just waiting to hear. Problem is transportation. I have to work out the car situation with Tiffany and I can tell it’s getting on her nerves.”

  “Good luck, man. I know it’s been tough. I wish I could help, I just—”

  “I know.” Gary brought it up all the time. He wanted to help, but his hands were tied. He ran the youth program at the local YMCA and had given me a chance two years ago as a camp counselor. It went without saying that after I’d been arrested at that same camp, I wasn’t exactly a hero amongst parents or staff.

  “It’s fucked,” Gary said. “You were better with those kids than half the staff we’ve got now.”

  I gave him a look. “It’s not fucked. It’s reality. I’m a felon.”

  “You’re not, though. Wrong place, wrong time doesn’t make you anything more than unlucky.”

  I picked at the label of my bottle. Gary had visited me in prison all the way up until my release. In the beginning, I hadn’t been able to figure out his angle. He’d been good to me during our first visit, asking if I needed anything, when I would’ve expected him to be pissed that I’d drawn negative attention to the program. But I’d come to find out that for some reason, Gary thought I was all right. He believed I hadn’t committed this crime. For that reason, I felt a lot of guilt about lying to him. If he knew where I’d really been that night, he wouldn’t be so understanding.

  “What if I did do it?” I asked. Sometimes I pictured Lake gliding on her back in the dark water, waiting for me. “What if I’d do it again? I’m not the same man I was when I went in.”


  Gary drank some more. “I don’t know, man. Not sure why you’re always trying to convince me you’re no good.”

  “Not trying to convince you about anything. Just stating facts. You get a chance to talk to Bucky?”

  Gary inhaled a deep breath. “Yeah, and it’s like I told you. He’s an asshole but he’s not a rat. He had nothing to do with your arrest. Why would he?”

  “I don’t know. Just to be a dick.”

  “Let it go, Manning. Nobody’s out to get you. Well, nobody but Tiffany.” He grinned. “Didn’t I warn you she’d get her hooks in you?”

  “You did.” I got out my pack of cigarettes. I was trying to smoke less to save money, but I couldn’t quit completely. It was still the best part of my day, most days. Not even the disappointment in Lake’s voice that night I’d gotten out was enough to scratch the surface of my cravings. She said she still had the bracelet she’d made me, but what could it do for me now, other than make me feel worse?

  “You guys get along all right?” he asked.

  “Tiffany? She gets on my case sometimes.” Truth be told, I didn’t mind it so much. Nobody had given a rat’s ass what I did with my life since I’d graduated high school. It was kind of nice, but I wasn’t about to admit that to Gary. “I look for work every day. It’s hard without a car, and my credit tanked while I was inside, so I can’t get a decent lease. My last resort is trucking. I don’t really want to go on the road if I don’t have to.”

  “Doesn’t her dad pay the rent?”

  “I give him as much as I can each month, and I’ve been getting Tiffany to contribute more and more. I’ve suggested we move to a more sensible place, but neither Tiff nor her dad want that.”

  “How’d you two get hooked up again?”

  “I was on the crew that built the house next her parents’.”

  “And she just came over and introduced herself?”

  My chest tightened the way it always did when I thought of those first days with Lake. Everyone on site had noticed the girls. The other men had only seen Tiffany, but not me. Lake had stood quietly by her sister’s side, absentmindedly playing with her bracelet, looking uncomfortable enough to make me notice, to make me wonder what was running through her head. I’d been ready to step in if there was trouble. I hated to be part of something that scared a young girl, but looking back, maybe she wasn’t so scared. I’d found the bracelet in the dirt and returned it to her, but she was the one who came back to talk to me.

  “You know how Tiff is,” I said with a drag.

  “Yeah, I do. She always been your type?”

  “My type?”

  Gary paused, seeming to choose his words carefully. “She’s got a big personality.”

  Even after we’d moved in together, I’d sometimes wondered why she stayed. It was taking me time to trust that she meant it when she said she loved me. That I wasn’t still a way to get her dad’s attention. I had been, but somewhere along the way, her feelings had changed. Maybe she secretly craved the structure she’d always rebelled against.

  “But I gotta say,” Gary continued, “I’ve seen a change in her. That first week at camp, I thought I had her pegged. Boy-crazy troublemaker. But Lydia tells me she’s not like that.”

  Tiffany had gotten to know Gary’s girlfriend pretty well, mostly because Gary was the only friend I really hung around with. “She’s still got a little of that going on,” I said with a laugh.

  “You’ve been a positive influence on her, though. Lydia thinks it’s because of you, too.”

  “Yeah?” I raised my chin, nodding a little. Any positive changes Tiffany’d made, she got the credit for that, but if I’d helped motivate her like she’d told me I had, I felt good about that. Real good. I’d struggled so much in prison with all the ways I’d brought Lake down, and I hadn’t even realized how my visits with Tiffany had had the opposite effect.

  “You know I work with kids a lot,” Gary said, “and not that she’s a kid, but I can kind of see how one person can really make a difference in someone’s life. Let me ask you something.” He shifted in his seat to face me better. Gary always got worked up when he talked about his job. In a way, what he did was similar to what I’d wanted to accomplish as an officer. He helped kids, gave them a safe place to go after school, talked to them like adults, provided them with tools to succeed they might not find at home. It was a shame my record meant I couldn’t really get involved in any way. “Does Tiffany have issues with her parents?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I mean . . . yeah. Her dad. He sort of favors her sister. A lot, actually.”

  “I thought so, the way she seeks out attention.” He took a pull from his beer. “It’s good she has you. Dads can really do a lot of damage when you’re young, you know?”

  Fuck, did I know it. My dad’s actions had changed my life irreparably. I could go on to get everything I wanted in life, but losing Madison, knowing what my dad had done to her—I’d never get over it.

  “And the shitty part is, that stuff gets passed down, so you have to break the cycle.”

  I looked into my beer. “What do you mean?”

  “The parents treat the kids a certain way, and those kids grow up to recreate those behaviors with their children. It’s really fascinating, that stuff. How much is ingrained and how much is learned, you know?”

  Ingrained. What Gary was saying, I already knew. I had my dad’s darkness in me. It could flip on like a switch, but how bad could it get? It wasn’t the first time I’d wondered what kind of dad I’d be. My control had already slipped with Lake, even though I’d known the potential consequences. Not just for me, but for a young girl getting involved with someone older.

  “You think that’s always true?” I asked.

  “Not always, but often enough from what I’ve seen at the Y. You find out a kid’s being abused, and, man,” he shook his head at me, “making that discovery’s not something I’d wish on anyone, but I guarantee, the abuser . . . he came from the same kind of household. You think it’d be the opposite. It’s pretty fucked.”

  Abuser. That was my father. That was my grandfather.

  What about me?

  I’d snuck off with one of Gary’s sixteen-year-old campers. I’d come from a history of abuse.

  Terrified he’d start prying into my childhood, I changed the subject. “Anyway, not sure what’s down the line for me and Tiff, but we’re in a good place for now.” We’d gotten into a routine. She worked most days, and in the evenings, she was—slowly—learning to cook. Or we got takeout. She was catching me up on movies I’d missed while inside. “This cohabitating thing isn’t so bad.”

  “Don’t admit that to her. She’ll think you’re ready for the next step.”

  I grunted. “I think this is the last step for a while.”

  “Sure,” Gary said. “I thought the same thing about Lydia. She said she wasn’t looking for anything too serious. Six months later, she’s been hinting about the fact that her lease is almost up.”

  “I already bit that bullet.”

  “Exactly. You’re one step ahead of us. You know there’s more coming, too.”

  I frowned. “I don’t think so. Tiffany’s not really the settling-down type.”

  “Denial will only get you so far, bro.” You’ve been together almost two years.”

  “One of which I wasn’t around.”

  “That’s not how chicks do math. Just watch. Can I bum one?”

  I passed Gary the pack. I wasn’t so sure. As well as things had been going between us, Tiffany got frustrated with me, too. She wanted us to do more stuff together, like hitting the bars with her friends, shopping, couples yoga. I didn’t have the money, and except for absolute necessities, I wouldn’t take more from her dad.

  Not that I’d been so well-off before going away, but at least then I hadn’t had a record, and I’d been able to pay my student loans. Inside, I hadn’t made enough to keep up my payments, which once had felt manageable and now seemed to
balloon.

  There were some days where life had felt easier behind bars. I hadn’t had much time alone with Lake in the two months I’d been out. We’d had moments here and there. Some days, I read her like a book, and others, it terrified me how little I knew about her. She had a million things going on, from classes at community college to study groups to pep rallies and even a fucking job at some country club for rich people. She was due to hear from USC any day now. She seemed more and more anxious, unhappy even, but I wasn’t sure if it was just being around me that made her that way. Sometimes, she’d get a certain kind of look and go somewhere in her head—somewhere I wanted to be.

  A guy I recognized from the apartment above mine came down the outdoor stairs and toward us. “You selling this?” he asked, admiring the TV stand.

  Gary shook his head. “Nah. We just made it.”

  “No shit.” He cocked his head to see the front. Just to make Tiff happy, I’d crafted two glass portholes on the cabinets. She wasn’t kidding about the nautical theme, and had been adding seashells and shit all around the apartment.

  “Can I buy it off you?” he asked. “Our furniture’s falling apart and my girlfriend’s been bugging me to take her shopping. You’d be saving my ass.”

  I took the cigarette from my mouth, letting it burn between my fingers. Fuck. I needed the money, but I knew how much Tiffany wanted this done. Plus, I’d personalized it for her. “Gotta save my own ass first. I need it for my place,” I said. “But I can make you one, no problem.”

  “Yeah?” he asked. “I’ll pay a premium, just so I don’t have to spend the day furniture shopping.”

  Gary and I exchanged a look. The reclaimed wood from a boatyard had cost hardly anything, and I certainly had the time. “Consider it done.”

 

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