by Falon Gold
Everything about me worked in reverse because of him. That was hard to admit, and yep, I had to fix that, by making sure I wasn’t ever where he was, but that was going to be next to impossible if I just moved next door to him. Would it be too much to ask if he was just visiting a lady friend? When the green-eyed monster of jealousy reared its ugly head, I concluded it would be much better if he lived here instead.
Okay then, so that left this neighborhood being big enough for the both of us. It had better be, or I was in deep trouble anyway. It wasn’t like I could just move out of my home before I even moved in it. A mortgage was for life. Foreclosure this soon, or ever, wasn’t an option. I had to get through this. One day at a time.
Roland just stared, wide-eyed. “Anna?” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it possessed a thick cord of amazement. His eyebrows threatened to form a unibrow under the weight of his shock, and it had to be pretty shocking to him to find me of all people at his door. “What are you doing here?”
He sounded so suspicious. Did he think I was dropping by his house unannounced to do what… pick up where we left off at his party? Or, start something else entirely with him? As if! Reconnecting with him was the last thing on my mind. He had changed me into someone I didn’t even recognize.
But… I probably was interrupting him keeping company with someone else. Just thinking he had been with someone else made my head hurt, heart drop. Depression resumed its unwelcomed stay in my psyche. For a moment in time, just seeing Roland again had evicted my blues, but because of his distrust of me, the blues were back in full residence now. I hadn’t miss them one bit, and I hated that he thought I was up to something again.
My hand palmed my chest that felt like it had a gaping hole in it all of a sudden, probably because my heart was missing from it. Was I ever going to figure out how not to care about Roland? It didn’t look it, and that pissed me off with me… and him because it was his fault I liked him. And my body liked him too. I had quaking knees, skydiving organs, and nerves that couldn’t compose themselves into a semblance of calm. Where the hell was my fierceness, my ability to endure everything with a smile?
I’d come through too much to be devastated by someone’s suspicious tone and distrust of me. People were supposed to be wary around me. That was the way I liked it. If you were wary, you weren’t trying me, so why were the backs of my eyes burning and my heart flopping toward my shoes just because he thought I was up to no good? That meant I was no good, right? But, I knew that already and if I cared what he thought, that meant that his suspicion had hurt where it counted the most; in my heart when it was supposed to be frozen and not care if he doesn’t want anything to do with me after our one… deckstand?
Don’t care, heart. Just get up, I coaxed it. Yeah, well, it just continued laying pathetically in the bottom of my sneaker as if I hadn’t given it a pep talk to end all pep talks. I knew nothing would make the beating block of fallen shit retain its usual fierce-stance of me against the world. That kept my survival instincts honed and my smart mouth sharp, but I was floundering right now.
Think of something to say, Anna, but my brain was too busy storing memories of Roland’s semi-nudeness to conjure words. Stupid fucking body. Some part of me was going to have to act like the old Anna, faking it until I got somewhere private where I’d let this damn tears burning my eyes have their way. When no other part of me jumped to take on the job of ‘faking it’, I drafted my mouth to take one for the team and lie through my teeth if it came down to it.
I cleared my throat. Now, where had our conversation fallen short at? Right, something about me being here. “What am I doing here you ask?” Maybe, he’d remind me of why I was here because my mind was still busy with cataloguing his man parts.
When Roland just stared, things got awkward fast. Then, he closed his eyes and shook his head as if he wasn’t sure if his mind was playing tricks on him. When he opened them again, I was still there, so he blinked then cleared his throat. “Yeah, why are you here, Anna?”
While waiting for me to answer, he opened the door wider to step out on the porch in nothing but black basketball shorts that hung low on his narrow hips, advertising the open end of the V outlining his abdomen. The closed end of the V was tucked out of sight, barely, and pointing to what had been left to the imagination. Well, someone else’s imagination, I had seen his package already. It wasn’t easily forgettable, and it was as impressive as the rest of him standing only a few inches away.
To be frank, he was too many inches close to me who right now couldn’t handle his proximity or his abdomen. It had an eight-pack of hills and valleys ripe for walking my fingers over and through the well-defined contours of his flesh. Hell, even his feet were masculine and neat. Hot damn, this man took care of himself! That was even more impressive than his sex, and that was a lot of ‘impressive’.
Merely looking at him semi-nude was going to kill me. Molten lava had pooled in the canal between my thighs. My spine softened as my mouth dried out. Oh yes, I definitely liked him who was eyeballing me hard though currently narrowing eyes as if he really suspected I was up to something now. Or, he really didn’t want me here. Well, that… That was fine, I didn’t want to be here either.
But, I struggled to believe my own convictions without my damn heart being in it. It was dealing with its own troubles. I turned my head to look away from the glorious sight of him that was turning me into a hot mess of inferior mush. My eyes lit upon the gigantic black blob staining my driveway. That was why you’re over here, nut. Relieving my purse of my hand, I pointed at his truck.
With a whole lot of attitude that I didn’t feel, I spouted off at the mouth, “I wouldn’t be here if that, which I’m assuming is yours, wasn’t parked in my damn driveway. Want it to still have four pumped up tires in the next two minutes, I suggest you damn move it and don’t park it there again.”
His head swung to the side, mouth falling open. “That’s your house?”
I crossed my arms and turned out one foot. “Unfortunately for you, yes, it is my house. What about it?”
His head arced back to me. A frown marred his gorgeous face, his mouth and peepers standing wide open in disbelief. I guessed he didn’t love we’d be neighbors. Well, shit wasn’t looking so good from my side of the property line either because I hated that he didn’t love that we’d be neighbors, and I hated that I cared about what he didn’t love.
The old Anna would’ve found this predicament hilarious. Who wanted to live near the one deckstand that you had no further interest in? Why wasn’t I loving the numerous chances I’d have to torture him with my nearness for future entertainment? What I wouldn’t give to truly be the old Anna again. I had a feeling she was gone for good if I didn’t stop imitating her and actually locate ‘the crazy bitch’ part of me soon, or living next to Roland was going to be sheer torture for me too instead of just for him.
He swiped a hand down his mouth as if wiping away his expression, but it stuck to his face. “My truck’s parked there because I was too tired to move it last night. Sorry. I didn’t think the house had been closed on yet, and I had some contractors over here late working on my deck. They had equipment everywhere and needed my driveway. I’ll move my truck from yours now.”
“Yes, you will, soldier.” Even if he didn’t, at this point, I didn’t care. I wanted to go home and bawl like a baby because he was I wanted but shouldn’t have, and couldn’t have if his suspicious demeanor was any indication, which hurt like hell.
“Let me get my keys,” he stated, rotating around to go back inside.
My mission was accomplished, threats given, and the conversation over. So, why the hell was I still standing here, watching him travel through the opened design of his home? Because he was here, or my sneakers were glued to his porch that spanned the front of his ranch-style home identical to mine. His had yellow siding with green shutters where mine was white with black shutters.
The slightly empty, undecorated, and spaciou
s living area was divided from the kitchen by a low-standing wall that hid floor cabinets and his stove. Now, leave, Anna. But, I couldn’t, not when I was back in his presence. And I didn’t want to leave, as I knew would be the case a month ago if I spent more time around him. Obviously, that was why I had stayed away from him and wherever he’d be.
Oh my God, Roland was an addiction. I had been going through withdrawals for a month like a damn addict. I was like my mother anyway, and I could’ve cried right then. No one should ever be anything like Shelly Harp. I despised her because she was the perfect example of what not to do in life, and now, I had something in common with her… and I hated that with a passion.
She was the reason why I’d never be good enough for someone like Roland or Kay. I was too busy trying to survive as a kid instead of developing a good heart, manners, and compassion. I could’ve been someone similar to Kay, who had the ability to be nostalgic, make a good man love her back, and simply stop and smell the roses and not worry for at least a few moments about having enough money to never go hungry again.
I was so terrified of having miss-meal colic, that I lashed out to keep from admitting that I was scared of that condition. Scared that I’d fail me like Shelly had done. I probably focused more than I should on not becoming her. At the moment, I hated her more than ever for molding me into who I was instead of who I should’ve been.
An avalanche of other emotions tore through me with the force of a hurricane that wouldn’t be held back this time. I rotated around and strolled across our front lawns, wanting to sprint away and hide from my own feelings and shortcomings. Except, appearances of a ‘don’t give a damn’ attitude had to be kept up though I couldn’t breathe. Where the hell did all the air go?
Suffocating, I entered my completely empty living area. On each side of the room was two little hallways sitting directly across from one another. On my left was the second bedroom and utility closet. I veered right, charging like a bull toward the hallway shared by the guest bathroom and master bedroom where Bo was removing a piece of furniture from the hand truck.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t want to be alone though I knew I was about to have an ugly cry. Shelly always inspired those, and now, so did Roland. This time, I wasn’t sure if I would be able to put myself back together without some help after falling apart. I needed Kay. Since she had a fully-functioning love life, I wouldn’t ask her to keep me company in my misery. Bo would have to do.
As I crossed the threshold, he glanced back with a small grin. “Where the hell is the fire, and the cops ain’t behind you, are they? I need to know so I can get the hell up out of here. Fuck going down with your ass because there is no telling what you’ve done next door.”
That was my cue to laugh or confess my crimes. Stringing words together wasn’t even possible as I stopped in the center of the space he worked near the back corner of, maneuvering a bulky, cherry wood nightstand into place against a side wall.
He turned around and cocked his head. “What did you do, Anna?”
I wrung my hands like I was really guilty of something, and I was. “I moved next door to Roland without knowing it.” Just saying his name provoked a knot of emotion in my throat.
Wait a damn minute. I’m not taking the blame for moving here beside Roland. This was all Karma’s damn doing, the meddling bitch.
Bo grimaced. “Who the hell is Roland?”
It was going to pain the hell out of me to answer that question. “He’s the reason I haven’t been good for anything but working for the last month.” He was the reason why I suddenly wanted things I didn’t have a clue what to do with them, and I loathed my own ineptness.
People like Roland always made you look within. I couldn’t stand to see the many holes there, but I couldn’t deny that they were there, that they felt as vast as the ocean. That until I filled them, I was as useful as a hole in the head to someone else.
The avalanche of emotions kicked up again. This time, the tears fell down. In attempt to stem them, I bit my bottom lip, wanting so badly to be worthy to somebody. Bo blinked as if I had told him something so shocking it paralyzed him. It wasn’t long before he recovered.
“You’re crying, Anna?”
“Yes,” I choked out. “Because I can’t move from here.” Well, that was part of the reason.
“Thugs don’t fucking cry, Anna,” he rebuked.
“Well right now, I’m not a thug, Bo!” I sniped back. “I’m like every other damn woman who’s feeling too damn much for a man who doesn’t want me, and he’s turned me into an addict like my damn mother! And I won’t ever be good enough for someone like him because she didn’t teach me to be a good woman, so forgive me for fucking crying like a regular human about it!” And wouldn’t you believe it, I broke down and bawled like a baby.
Bo backpedaled, nearly backing into the nightstand. Before I brought my hands up to cover my face, he started twisting this way and that at the waist, probably looking for somewhere else to go besides in the room with the unstable woman I was slowly but surely turning into. Then, someone knocked at the opened front door. I panicked, motioning for him to go answer it.
He took off like a shot out of the room. Well, he wasn’t going to be good company if I couldn’t get him to stay. Trying to compose myself, I swiped at my face, but you can’t wipe away an ugly cry. No sir. Puffy red eyes, flushed skin, and the whole air of miserableness descended quickly but took a while to come back from, at least half a day for me. Good thing I didn’t have on any makeup as I wiped my hand down my shorts.
Kay called out my name from the front room. Ah shit! I felt even worse now that she was here; she didn’t need me bringing her down. I didn’t think I could stop myself from telling her about what had me in its grip and wouldn’t let go; liking Roland and hating my mother. He didn’t seem to like me back though, but she certainly seemed to hate me equally, and I had to get over all of that. Move on somehow.
“In here,” I croaked, then looked around the room for busy work that would give me a reason to keep my face turned away from her.
She’d recognize the signs of an ugly cry just passed in a heartbeat, and there was nothing in here to keep me busy but the nightstand. I wasn’t about to lug that heavy thing anywhere if it didn’t have to be moved, so I walked to the window, pointing my face out of it. That only served to give me a view of Roland walking to his truck.
It was like watching all my secret dreams roll by from behind a shatterproof shield. They would never come true and I choked up just as he looked up. Shit! There goes my ‘don’t care’ façade. I swung around to Kay walking in the room, and dammit if the bliss of an active love life sitting on her face didn’t set me off on another ugly cry session. When was this going to stop?
She reached for me. “Come here, sweetheart. You found out the hard way who lived next door, didn’t you?” That was what she had been trying to tell me before I hung up on her.
I cried even harder because next door was where I wanted to be but wasn’t welcomed there.
Chapter Nine
~Roland~
Some of the shock from finding Anna at my door had dissipated by the time I had found my keys and headed across our yards to get my truck. I was clearheaded enough to start counting my blessings and think about what I wanted to say to her next when I felt eyes on me. I looked sideways at the bare window that my truck was parked in front of, and locked eyes with Anna.
A surge of joy roiled through me. Her face crumpled up and she turned away as if I had the kind of face only a mother could love. Damn, was I that ugly this early in the day or what?
She turned away and walked into someone’s arms, probably Kay’s. It dawned on me that Anna was genuinely upset about something. It was hard to tell through the dark screens at her windows unless someone stood right at the glass, and it better be Kay’s arms around Anna and not the arms of the guy that was helping her move. Not is not the time to get possessive, Roland. Was there ever a right time for
that?
Probably not, but I hadn’t asked to feel this way either. My emotions were what they were, and they were demanding I go find out what had upset Anna. Then, she wailed like somebody was killing her. A vise gripped my heart then squeezed. I detoured from the truck to her front porch, passing by the opened backend of a U-Haul with a ramp running over the front steps to the porch.
The truck was barely filled up halfway with a few boxes and pieces of bedroom furniture. A guy was moving things around the back of the truck instead of off it into the house. I knew a man that was trying to find something else to do when I saw one. Not many men wanted to deal with women’s emotions that were chaotic at best some days.
I went toward the chaos, rounding a whitewashed pole to hop up onto the front porch where I beat my knuckles against the opened red door just as Anna sniffled. Who the hell was I about to kill?
“Why are you knocking, Bo?” Kay asked snippily.
So, Bo was his name, huh? If he was the one I was about to kill, at least I didn’t have to hunt him down.
“I’m knocking because I’m not Bo,” I responded drily.
“Oh!” Kay chirped. “Come in, Roland!”
Loud but incoherent whispering volleyed back and forth between the women from the direction of the master bedroom. I could imagine what that conversation consisted of. Kay would want to welcome anyone that came to visit. Anna would not want anyone to see her crying, but I was coming in anyway and if I had anything to say about it, whatever had her upset would not be upsetting her again.
I strolled into the room. Kay stood in the center of it with a shit-eating grin. Anna had taken a seat on the nightstand near a corner of the room like she was in timeout. She was bent over at the waist with her arms folded across her lap. Her head drooped so far down it was almost touching her knees. The look of the downtrodden would always call to the fixer in me even if everything about this woman didn’t call to me on its own.