by Lila Felix
I looked to Nixon who, if possible, looked even more upset than she was.
“Did you tell your Daddy about the worms who like to pee a lot?”
Nixon looked at me like I was nuts but she told him the story. By the time she was finished, we were all laughing so hard, tears formed in Nixon’s eyes. I sat with them and together we watched whatever she wanted. Scout yawned after a while and I excused myself to let them get to bed.
I shut the door behind me and for the first time in a long time, felt like I’d done something good for someone else. And in terms of my self-centered life, it was merely a nick in the surface.
I got back home and threw on an old t-shirt of Nixon’s and got into bed. My phone beeped as I was getting comfortable. I checked it and it was a text from Nixon: She’s asleep. You were amazing with her. Thx.
I texted back: You’re welcome. Anytime.
I went to sleep in the company of the weirdest feeling. I loved a lot more than Nixon. I loved Scout and wished she was my own.
~~~
“I tell you, I don’t know what’s going on with kids these days. I saw a girl with pink hair at the grocery store the other day.” She pointed her chicken salad weighted fork at me as she spoke.
I was up to my eyebrows in my mother’s bullshit over breakfast the next morning. “So, what part is offensive, Mom? That people have pink hair or that they dared go to the same grocery store as you? Wait, let me guess, people with pink hair shouldn’t need groceries. They probably are just freeloaders anyway, right?”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes at me, “Really Journey, don’t be dramatic. That’s not what I was saying at all.” There were a few seconds of silence so I pressed her, still angry at finding out about her lying to Nixon.
“Yeah mom, like when Nixon called and asked you if I was in town and you told him I was still at Duke. We all spend our time shaping your words into a script out of The Young and the Restless.”
She pressed her hand to her heart, “I swear you never talked back when you were a teenager and I thought we’d moved past it. Well, I won’t stand for it one more second.” She flicked her wrist to the waitress and when she got the check, paid it with cash and then left without another word.
My mother was flat out challenged.
I went to work and the rest of the week went by quickly, the summer schedule filled with water days and different field trips. Nixon had come to see me Tuesday night on his way to dinner with the rest of the Black family. He’d come in, kissed me quickly and then left again. And then he ran back in before I could close the door, repeated the kiss, this time a lot more than a peck and flashed out again.
Silver and I had a girls’ night in on Friday night with pizza and Nicholas Sparks’ movies. We spent most of the night buried in Kleenex, but everybody needs to cry once in a while.
Saturday I second and third guessed on what to wear to the roller derby thing. Silver said to wear jeans and a tank top so that’s what I did. I wore some old, worn out Levi’s from high school that somehow fit me better than they did in school. I threw on a black tank top and some purple Chucks. I left my hair down, with curls fairly tame. I checked online for roller derby rules so I wouldn’t look like a complete idiot, but some were fairly confusing, so I gave up.
I walked into the rink. Immediately I was almost knocked out by the smell of feet and old skates. I’d bought my ticket online so I showed the guy at the ticket counter my phone and he stamped my hand with a roller skate with wings and shooed me into the thicket.
I immediately spotted the pint-sized girl I so wrongly pegged as Nixon’s wife. She was pouting on a bench, dressed like a derby player, but clearly not skating for some reason. She was sandwiched by two other women, one with purple hair and one with orange hair, both tall and lanky, while she was petite and curvy. The hobbit one got up, smiled and pageant queened in my direction. I turned left and right to see who she was waving at and felt like Ducky from Pretty in Pink when I realized she was directing her waves at me.
“Hi, Journey!” She meandered in and out of skate traffic and came to a dead stop in front of me.
“Hi, it’s Storey right? Scout always refers to you as Honey.”
She beamed at the mention of Scout and a tiny twist of jealously twinged in my heart.
“No, please call me Storey. Come on; let’s introduce you to the family. I know Scout doesn’t know about you and Nixon but we’re a pretty tight family. We all know how he feels about you.”
I felt like a challenged moron as she led me across the shiny floor towards Eggplant and Tangerine. They seemed to know who I was already and I knew a flash of red patulated over my face.
“Reed, Nellie, this is Journey,” she over emphasized my name, clueing them into some secret.
“Nice to meet y’all. I know Storey is Maddox’s wife and I remember him from school.”
Purple hair, Nellie, chimed in, “I’m Owen’s wife. He said he was ahead of you a couple of years in school.”
“And I’m Falcon’s wife. It’s nice to meet you Journey.”
“So how come y’all are on the bench?”
“Because they were unreasonably violent during the last bout and now they’re benched for unsportsmanlike conduct.” Nixon said as he rolled past me to the other side of the bench, holding Scout.
“Hi Miss Journey!” she squealed.
“Hi Scout. How’s your hand?” I’d just seen her healing progress the day before but she was proud of it.
“It’s almost all better!” she showed me her new bandage with pride.
“Ok, I’m just gonna go sit—somewhere…” The urge to grab Nixon in all his striped glory was almost too much to take.
Nixon cleared his throat, “Owen, Mad and Falcon are over there,” he pointed to a section with signs and smiles.
“Oh, ok. I’ll go sit there then. Nice to meet you all,” I walked away; very aware of what had just occurred. I was being approved or disapproved by the people who were important to him, and Scout.
“Journey!” Maddox yelled towards me as I approached, “Over here.”
Like you couldn’t see them from a mile away.
“Somebody do some s’plainin, because I have no clue what’s going on here.”
They all chuckled and I was suddenly in a swarm of buzzing testosterone.
“They do a mock jam before the real thing so everyone knows what’s going on. Don’t worry about it. We all had to learn.”
“Ok, good.” I was introduced to Chase and Sylvia, who I’d seen around before, but never been formally introduced. Sylvia hugged me like she’d known me a thousand years. And she smelled like basil. Scout was given to Falcon before the bout started, I knew what it was called from the announcer skating around, and Nixon winked at me.
“Ms. Journey, my daddy is the best zebra ever!” Scout shrieked at me.
The rules were played out before us and I finally understood some of the written rules I’d read about. But I still had to ask questions throughout the whole thing, most of which Scout answered. Again, I felt like simpleton around her.
When it ended, I was confused.
“I thought it was a little more—violent.”
They all laughed and Maddox spoke up first. “Well, you see those pouting minxes over there? That’s the source of most of the violence in these games and they’re benched for that same reason. Now they’ll brood about it until the next game and we’ll start all over again.”
“Well, they certainly look like someone killed their puppy. I will see you guys around. I’d better get going. Bye, Scout.” I waved at her, but she was having none of it.
She hugged me tight around my neck and kissed my cheek. “You have to come to see my aunts skate next week.” She was so excited and it was contagious—everything she did was contagious.
“And maybe next time you can meet Cyrus.”
“Who’s Cyrus?”
“Cyrus is my cousin but he’s already asleep. He sleeps a lot.”
I waved goodbye to everyone. I wanted to at least say goodbye to Nixon but he was busy helping pick everything up.
“Journey, wait,” It was Owen, “Let me walk you to your car. It’s not the best part of town.”
“Ok.” I looked back to see Nixon staring right at us. Owen gave him some kind of male sign language and then they both nodded curtly at one another. We walked out together, he opened my door and said another round of goodbyes. It was awful to know Nixon was right there inside and I couldn’t act like I was anything more than his friend and some person who worked at Scout’s school. It felt thirteen kinds of wrong. I knew he would call me after he got home and I prayed he did. It was becoming harder and harder to stay away from him—which was ironic considering the amount of time and energy I’d once spent trying to stay away from him and what he made me feel.
I went home and read a book for an hour before the doorbell rang. He was quick. I opened the door, smiling and then gasped. It wasn’t Nixon at all.
“Hello, Journey. I’m Simon. It’s nice to meet you.”
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” He was tall and lanky, looked like he’d lost a good deal of sleep and brain cells—and maybe some of his sanity. His hair was disheveled and there were several stains on his white t-shirt. His eyes—they were what scared me the most—they were wild—desperate—crazed.
“No, but you can tell Nixon and Storey that it’s not over, not by a long shot. Just because they’re married doesn’t mean she won’t be mine. She’s always been mine.”
I opened my mouth to correct him but he’d fled. I had to call Nixon and see if he knew who that was.
The phone rang and rang with no answer. He was probably still helping or was on his way. And the more I let the little visitor fester in my thoughts, the more it freaked me out. I double checked the windows and doors—there weren’t very many of them. Another hour passed and my phone rang out, and I fumbled it around, dropped it on the floor and then recovered it, “Hello.”
“You sound weird. Did I wake you up? I don’t have to come over.”
“No, I need you to, especially after some creep just paid me a visit talking about you and Storey.”
“I’m on my way. Did he say his name?”
“Simon.”
I could hear him slam and bustle through his apartment as he spoke to me, “Journey, darlin’, lock the door and don’t answer it. I will be there as quickly as I can. And I will call you when I’m at the door.”
“Ok, hurry please,” and I hung up.
Minutes later he called again and I opened the door for him and Maddox. “Hi,um,both of you. Is it that bad? You had to call in the Calvary?”
Nixon stalked two steps towards me and engulfed me in his arms. “Thank God you’re safe,” he murmured into my hair.
“Can you unhand her so we can find out what happened Nix?” Maddox laughed.
He waited a few more seconds before letting me go and I relayed the three minute, scary as hell, but only three minute event.
“He thinks you and Storey are married?” Maddox shot the question at Nixon.
“I guess so? Maybe because Storey’s always with Scout? Hell, I don’t know what that whack job is thinking.”
“Ok, now we have to watch Storey and Journey. It’s fine. We can manage it.”
Maddox left shortly after that and Nixon looked whipped. “Are you hungry? You’ve got to be. Let me go get you something to eat.”
“Hell no.” he barked at me and then backtracked, “I’m sorry, I just—what if he’s waiting for you to leave—let’s order in, get it delivered.”
“Ok,” I ordered us calzones from the local pizza place and when it was delivered Nixon wouldn’t even let me answer the door for the delivery girl.
He was gonna be a maniac from then on. I could already tell.
Chapter 15
Storey
She’s more than a friend, she’s my sister.
“I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t,” She bellowed as she wrung her hands together. I’d never seen Reed this anxiety ridden.
She was doing everything right, except for this-she was constantly worrying and stressing out about it, and I had to say something.
“Reed, stressing is not going to help. I know y’all are trying hard but maybe you just need to get away, rest, relax. Make a baby on the beach for crying out loud!”
Her eyes bulged out and then she picked up her phone while blushing, “Hey, it’s me. Wanna take a trip?” Apparently her question was answered with some naughty reply because she giggled into the phone and simply answered, “Okay.”
“So,” I asked her, even though I knew he’d agreed.
“He’s gonna plan it for this weekend.”
“Good. You need the vaca anyway. Hell, I need the vaca but it’s just not in the cards right now.”
Reed refilled her coffee cup and sat back down across from me. She had the look. Like something was banging at the wall of her teeth, begging to be told or asked.
“Have you seen him again,” she asked.
“Yeah, we saw him the other day right outside the campus limits. He’s got a big dually truck now instead of his car but I’d notice those irritated, beady eyes anywhere.”
She ran her finger along the rim of the coffee cup, like she expected it to sing a song.
“Did you tell everybody about the change? So they can look for the truck now?”
“Mmmhmmm” I answered, half distracted.
“What’s up with you?”
I hesitated, feeling completely awkward and a little bit fatal attraction for what I was about to say. “What do you think about Journey?”
She shrugged and made an upside down U with her mouth, “I really don’t know her. But if Nixon is into her then she must be cool, right? He wouldn’t let anyone shady around Scout.”
“And Scout loves her. I swear, all the kid talks about is Ms. Journey this and Ms. Journey says that and Ms. Journey helped me.”
She sucked her cheeks into her mouth, “Storey, you’re jealous!”
“I am not,” My chin tipped in the air, appalled at the mention of that word.
“You are so jealous! I’m surprised you’re not bleeding green, like green pepper jelly.”
“Shut up,” And then the waterworks began. I couldn’t tell Mad, he’d think I was ridiculous.
“She’s like my kid. I changed her diapers, I helped teach her to read, I taught her how to write her name. What if Nix and that cutie-stealer get married? I’ll never see her.”
Reed threw her head back and groaned at me. Yes, I knew how ludicrous it sounded but I didn’t care.
“You know that’s not true,” she got up and got a tissue from the living room table, “Scout loves you and Journey’s the new thing—she’s gonna brag about it. And if they do get married, think about how awesome that will be for Scout, a father and a mother under one roof. You know how sullen she gets on Mother’s Day.”
“I don’t know, Reed. I’m just stressing for no reason. Nixon wouldn’t keep her from me. I know that. I’m just so damned emotional.”
“When do you think they’re gonna tell Scout?” She asked.
“She probably already knows, the smart little shit.”
“Right?” She reached across the island and patted my hand, “Nix deserves happiness. I just hope she doesn’t break his heart.”
“Me too.”
Reed left an hour later after we both ugly cried over our various woes—again. Maddox walked into the end of it but pretended not to notice until after Reed was gone.
He grabbed sandwich makings out of the refrigerator, our eyes locked almost the entire time.
“You gonna make me work for it,” he asked.
“I’m embarrassed. I didn’t want you to know.”
His eyes rolled at my confession, “So, my wife, my best friend, is embarrassed to
let me in on her secret? After everything we’ve been through? Bummer.”
“Well, when you put it like that, it makes me sound like a gold winning ass.”
He smiled, only on one side of his mouth, “Well, your ass is spectacular.”
“Shut it, Black.”
He shoved an enormous sandwich into his mouth and waited for me.
I tried to say everything in a rush, hoping the roadrunnering of words would disguise how moronic I sounded. “It’s just Scout, she’s so enamored with Journey and that’s all she talks about. Journey this and Journey that and one day she’s just gonna forget I even exist.”
I cracked my head against the island, hoping to hide from the humiliation but I could feel the movement of him in the room. His strong hands turned me, forcing me from my hiding place and pulled me against him.
“You are so silly, in the best way. That kid loves you to pieces and yes, there’s a chance Journey and Nixon might get married but didn’t you have that aunt? That aunt or uncle who spoiled you rotten and who did all the cool stuff with you that your parents wouldn’t let you?”
I nodded.
“That’s you. You’re her Honey and that’s never going to change. Got it?”
“It’s not really nice of you to be right all the time.”
Chapter 16
Nixon
The midget is onto us, I swear.
Scout came out of the bedroom where she was playing with Cyrus.
“Where’s Cyrus?” I asked her, elbow deep in lemon scented suds.
“Freakin’ asleep,” she crossed her arms.
“Don’t say freakin’. Did he get in your bed?”
“No, he’s in the toy box with Operetta.”
“Who?”
“Operetta, a doll, Daddy.”
“Oh, ok.”
I needed a tiny female encyclopedia.
“I still want a wabbit.” She said all her R’s perfectly until she spoke about wanting a hopper, then it came out ‘wabbit’.
“Not in an apartment, Scout.” I tried not to convey the aggravation.
“Let’s move to Grandma’s house. You said it was your house now. Then we can have a wabbit.”
I’d actually been thinking about it a lot lately. I had a house with four bedrooms and three bathrooms in perfect condition just waiting for me—everything included: furniture, appliances, even the ghost of my mother.