The Space Between

by Victoria H. Smith

  I was happy to see her as well, but I was waiting for that explanation. I didn’t want to ruin her kisses with talk about the matter, so I didn’t push it right away. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you,” I spoke against her lips.

  She pulled away. That was when I noticed what was below her bottom lip.

  I grinned. “I see your lip ring has returned.” I ran the pad of my finger against the jewel.

  Her caramel cheeks went three shades of pink. She bit down on the backing of it in nervousness; an action I forgot how much I missed.

  “Yeah. I didn’t see the point in hiding it anymore,” she said, swinging my hand shyly in hers.

  If there was one thing that resulted from this complete crap day it was that Lacey could be herself again. I was glad for it.

  Moving her attention away from our hands, she looked around me, and her shyness turned to worry. “Maybe you should move your car. Ty—”

  I held up my hand. “My girl has a revolver. I’m good.”

  The pink in her cheeks turned to rosy red. “She does.”

  I stood there awkwardly for a moment, still waiting for that explanation I believed I was due for upon arrival. She didn’t give it, though. She just tugged me inside her house and took me to the couch. That was okay, I supposed. I was fine talking there.

  She didn’t join me when I sat, and I watched her go into the connecting kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

  She pulled out food from the fridge and pots from the cabinet before I even gave my answer.

  “Uh, no, thanks, Lace. Why don’t you come over here? We can just chill.”

  She didn’t immediately put anything away, but she did freeze over her task. “Are you sure? I mean, I can make you something.”

  Now, I was questioning her behavior. Her activities seemed rather busy. “I’m sure. Just come here.”

  She nodded once, not looking at me, then put everything back into the refrigerator and the cabinets where she got them.

  When she joined me on the couch, she sat close. We were only in that position for a moment before she ran her hands up my chest and attempted to kiss me.

  I grabbed her hands.

  She stopped, eyes shifting as she stared at me. “What? You wanted me to come over.”

  “Yeah, but . . .” I rested her hands in my lap with mine. Why wasn’t she talking about what happened before I came here? “I just wanted to see you. Talk.” I pushed my fingers into her curls, studying her eyes.

  Her eyes wandered. “About what?”

  Sighing, I dropped my hand from her cheek. “How about we talk about today. You know, just anything you want to tell me, or talk about.” Maybe this would push her.

  “I’m going to see Mama later.”

  I played with her hand. “That’s not what I meant, Lace.”

  She watched my hand touch her caramel skin. “It’s not?”

  I closed my eyes tight. She had no intention of bringing up the issue. “I want to know something, and I’m kind of wondering why you’re not telling me about it right away. Frankly, it’s worrying me.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “Why was he here, Lace?” I glanced up from her hands. “And why aren’t you telling me about it?”

  Her hand slowly left mine, and she nervously twisted some threads on the couch between two fingers. “You know he was here?”

  “Yeah. I saw him drive away. What’s up? What did he want, and why don’t you feel you can talk to me about it?”

  “I guess I just didn’t want to bother you. I knew you’d be mad that he came.”

  I rose up. Now, she got my attention. “What happened, Lace? Did he threaten you?”

  “No. No. Nothing like that. He just wanted to come over and make sure I wouldn’t talk. Just have an understanding. He didn’t threaten me, though.”

  “Make sure you wouldn’t talk? About us?”

  “Yeah.”

  I pushed a long current of air through my nose.

  “He wanted to make sure I didn’t talk to the press or something about us.”

  “Did he make you sign anything?”

  She shook her head, her brown curls moving with her.

  “And he didn’t threaten you?”

  “No. Just talking.”

  I eased, letting out a breath. “I’m sorry about that. I talked to my father earlier today, and I thought we had an understanding. I had no idea he’d come over. I’ll talk to him and let him know that wasn’t okay. I just don’t understand why you felt the need to lie to me about him being here.”

  Her eyes widened. “I didn’t lie, Drake. I just didn’t think you knowing would help the situation. I knew you’d be mad.”

  “Omission counts as lying, Lacey. You can talk to me. You don’t have to hide anything in hopes to protect me.”

  “Omission counts as lying?” Her face cringed.

  “In most societies. Why?”

  “He, um . . .” She restlessly played with her curls, biting on her lip ring.

  “He . . .” I said, helping her.

  She dropped her hand from her hair. “You father. He offered me money.”

  “Wow.” I gazed up at the ceiling, rubbing at the creases of stress in my brow. “And after he was being so cool about not filing a suit against you. I guess I know why. My father always has a Plan B. This must have been it.”

  She was silent as I spoke my thoughts out loud. Realizing, I was being rude, I came back out of them and to her. I put her hands in mine. “My father is a bastard, and I apologize for that. He shouldn’t have done that.”

  She shrugged. “He was just trying to look out for his family.”

  “No. He was trying to look out for himself, and I just happened to be connected to him as family.” I stared up from our hands. “What did he say when you refused the money?”

  Her eyes flickered a few times. “He wasn’t happy.”

  I smirked, rubbing the top of her hand. “I’m sure he wasn’t. I would have thrown the check in his face for good measure.”

  “I tried, but . . .”

  I stopped rubbing. “You tried? You mean you didn’t give it back to him?”

  Lacey seemed to visibly shrink as she appeared smaller in her seat. “I told him I didn’t want it, Drake. I tried to give it back, but he wouldn’t take it.”

  Slowly, I let go of her hands. “So you still have it.”

  “I have it, but I don’t want it. He told me to think about it.”

  Now, I leaned back. “So you’re thinking about it?”

  “What? No,” she said, panic-stricken.

  “You must be, or you would have given it back, Lacey.”

  “I tried, Drake. I did.”

  “You don’t have to try when it comes to my father about money, Lacey. He’s the biggest tightwad on the planet. If you said you didn’t want it, he would have taken it back.” My father may have been a bastard, but one thing he wasn’t was an unreasonable man. If Lacey didn’t accept the offer he wouldn’t have challenged her on the issue for the sheer fact that he was a nickel dick. I wasn’t lying to Derrick the night I said my father would never go along with the threat of my ransom.

  “I promise. I don’t want it, Drake,” she said, her face flushed. “Look.”

  She got up and pulled a book off her fire place. When she opened the book the check was inside. I looked away from the spectacle. The perfect hiding place when you don’t want someone to find something. More lying.

  “Drake, look. I don’t want it.” She held up the check at the top with her fingers like she attempted to rip it.

  I grabbed her hand before she could. “Lacey, I understand if you’re scared about money. With your mama being in the hospital and you just losing your job that makes sense. But if you needed money, you could have just asked. I would have helped you.” I looked away.

  “Drake, no,” she said, her voice shaking.

  When tears formed in her eyes, I couldn’t look at them. I wasn’t strong enou
gh. She always affected me, and I couldn’t let myself be affected. Not anymore. She got the job with my parents and was forced back into my life in the first place, because I was made weak by her. Maybe if I would have thought about the repercussions of that action I could have prevented them, and consequently, this.

  Putting my hands on my knees, I got up slowly. “I get it. I do.”

  I turned around and headed to the door, but she grabbed my arm.

  “Drake, I told you. I don’t—”

  Her words cut off as I made eye contact with her. I was sure they stopped because she could see the hurt in my eyes. I wanted to leave before she was aware of it, but I was weak and had to look at her again. “I think he’s right. You should think about it, and I want you to call me after you figure it out.”

  Her lip quivered, and I had to close my eyes.

  “That’s not what I want. Please,” she whispered.

  I glanced down. “You were right earlier. This is new. Everything we have is in its infancy, and you shouldn’t be expected to not consider all your options. This is the real world, Lacey, and I’m not naïve to it, nor am I blinded by it.”

  The minute I realized my own father’s words came out of my mouth I had to let her go. I was going to break down, and I couldn’t do that in front of her. Unfortunately, I had more of my father in myself than I was willing to admit. Pride.

  “Drake!” she said as I went down her stoop.

  I forced her continued calls of my name to stay out of my head and concentrated as hard as I could to leave her. I couldn’t listen to her words, because in that moment only one thing occurred to me.

  I needed more time.

  That was when the words she said earlier on the phone came crashing into me.

  She was right. I was rash. I was willing to give up some of the most important things in my life. My family . . . My future . . . I gave everything up so freely when she was clearly still thinking about her options.

  I must look so foolish to her, so naïve in every possible way.

  “Drake!” She grabbed at my door handle, but I didn’t unlock the door.

  All I did was start the car, shaking my head while I thought.

  By the time she called me, I’d have my thoughts collected, and we could figure out what our relationship meant to both of us, and what we were willing to do for it. But until then, I needed time.

  I just did.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Lacey

  One month later

  “Have you called him yet?” Margot plopped on the sheet-less mattress of my mama’s bed.

  Passing her, I went to Mama’s closet and picked up the last box of her stuff from the floor. “The answer is the same as the last time you asked me. No.”

  I put the box on the bed, and routed through the old programs.

  I wouldn’t cry as I looked through them. I wouldn’t let myself. She wouldn’t want that. These old paper booklets were happy memories for her; therefore, they would mean only happy memories for me, too.

  Gathering them into a stack, I put a large rubber band around the faded papers, then put them back into the box.

  All this stuff would stay. I couldn’t get rid of it.

  “What I don’t understand is why. He’s waiting for you to call him. He will not call you. You have to call him. That was what he told you to do, right?”

  Drake did tell me to call, but the last month had been nothing but hell for me.

  Losing the house. The funeral . . .

  Taking a long, controlled breath, I thumbed aimlessly through the boxes contents. My mental state after everything that had happened in the last month wouldn’t have been good for either of us. Not to mention, I didn’t know if a call would even be welcomed from him if I made it. That tortured look in his eyes when he left my house haunted me and that pained expression nearly killed my insides every time I replayed the image in my head.

  He felt I’d betrayed him. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t. He thought I had, and a phone call would only force me to deal with what that last look he left me with meant. I didn’t know if I was ready to handle what the end result would be of us after that phone conversation was over. In fact, I knew I wasn’t ready.

  Forcing the thoughts to the back of my mind, I made myself focus on the present. “I’m just giving him his space. He moves into his dorm this week. The last thing he needs is to be bothered by me and everything that’s going on in my life.”

  Margot riffled through the box as I stood up from the bed. “You’re a liar. You’re not calling because you’re mad that he didn’t believe you about the check.”

  My hands stiffened on the empty moving box I’d bent down to grab off the floor.

  After taking a moment to calm down, I picked it up and loaded it with Mama’s nail polishes from her armoire. They were the last items to be packed. The hardest. They had to stay, too.

  “I’m not mad. I’m just . . .” I stopped my hand on a bottle of ruby polish, hesitating a moment before I put it into the box. “I’m just hurt, okay? And I feel I have a right to be. He told me he loved me, Margot. When you love someone, you’re supposed to believe what they tell you.” My hands shaking, I dropped them from the box entirely.

  Margot sighed, getting up from the bed. “I understand that, Lacey, but loving someone also means you got to know how to forgive when the person you love is being an idiot.”

  I closed my eyes as she put her hand on my shoulder.

  “And don’t hate me, but I kind of see where the confusion came from on his end.”

  I flinched, and she dropped her hand from my shoulder. “How so?”

  She held up her hands in surrender. “I’m just saying that even I’m a little confused by what went down. I mean, you said you didn’t want the money, but you still had the check.”

  My face boiled in heat. “His father forced it on me! And whose side are you on?”

  “Yours, of course. I’m just trying to help you see that what happened could have easily been interpreted wrong. You said his father made you take it, but what was stopping you from saying go to hell and throwing it at him? Or why didn’t you rip it up and throw it away the minute he left? You had a few options, Lacey, but you didn’t choose any of them. I can see how that would look a little off to Drake.”

  I glanced away. My head swimming, I put my hand to my brow.

  Oh my God. Why didn’t I do those things?

  “Margot?” I dropped my hands from my head and looked into her eyes. “You don’t think I— I mean, that deep down I really did—”

  “Want the money?” She shrugged. “I don’t know, but Lord knows that amount of money would have tempted anyone, even the most honorable person. And you had been through a bunch of bullshit that morning. Things with your mama. Being fired. Maybe, I don’t know, deep down you did.”

  Leaning against the dresser, I put my head in my hands. The realization chilled me to the bone. Did I really? Did I? I shook my head, my eyes watering. “Why would I do that? Why would I consider it? I love Drake. I love him so much. I would never choose money over him. I love him, Margot.”

  She brought me into her arms, rubbing my back. “I told you. You were caught at a bad time. Weak. I wouldn’t blame yourself.”

  Dropping my hands from my face, I wrapped my arms around her. “But I should have been strong enough. I should have been strong enough for us.”

  She let me silently hug her for a long while. Pulling away, she put her hands on my cheeks. “There’s still time to call him.”

  Glancing away, I left her, letting her hands fall from my cheeks. I went to my box and forced myself to fill it up with the last of the polishes. That was all I could do. I couldn’t call him. Not right now. If I really was guilty, how could he ever forgive me? The ache from the thought made me quicken my pace on the polishes to distract from the weight of the feeling.

  “Lacey?” She put her hand on my back, watching me pack the box.

  “I will. E
ventually. I just— I need some time to think. I need to figure out what to say to him. I just—”

  “Okay. I get it. But do call him, okay? When you’re ready?”

  I nodded with a small smile as she patted my back and walked behind me.

  “What do you want done with this box?”

  Over my shoulder, I saw Margot bend down over a box filled with papers near the door. “Just take it out into the living room,” I said, turning back to my box. “Derrick and his friends will get it when they come back from my new place for the next load of stuff.”

  I didn’t hear Margot’s steps after my statement.

  Turning around, I quickly found out why.

  She stood there, stark still, with the box she picked up under her arm. Her mouth agape, she studied a paper in her hand.

  She looked about two seconds away from “squeeing!”

  The box she had under her arm had my name on it. It didn’t take me long to figure out it was my box of important documents. It took me even less time to discover what she’d retrieved from it.

  I dropped my shoulders. She just had to find that one, didn’t she?

  “You went . . .” She gazed up in a daze. “You went to the callbacks and got the lead!”

  Dropping the box from under her arm—obviously not caring if I had breakables in it—she tackled me like a linebacker. We both hit my mama’s sheet-less mattress with Margot “squeeing!” again and again in my ear.

  “You did it! You went, and you got the part! I knew you could do it, girl!” Her bear hug nearly cut off my circulation.

  I couldn’t help but laugh a bit at her animated reaction. I knew she’d be happy. I just wished I could join myself in her glee. “Yes, I went, but it doesn’t matter.”

  Releasing her grasp, she frowned. “Um, you got the part in the show of your dreams. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think that kind of matters.”

  Normally, she’d be right, but I knew the reality. “The only thing the production is paying for is transportation over there. The cast has to come up with their own cost of living; which means room and board in one of the most expensive cities in the world. I quoted some places in the area, and it’s not feasible for me right now. Not with all the final expenses I have to handle before I could even think about going.”