by J. R. Tate
Eva looked up. “He seems clingy, but that’s just Gregg. You can take that however you want.” She stood up and walked toward the bedroom, but Michael grabbed her hand before she could completely get away.
“I’ll be back in a bit. I love you.”
She gripped his hand tight. “Be good. Love you too.”
***
“Pretty good seats for spur of the moment tickets.” Gregg’s eyes scanned the first base line as the scooted past a few people to get to their places.
“I don’t think the Mets have had a sellout crowd in years.” Michael took in the smell of the fresh cut grass and the sounds of the wooden bats crack against the baseballs as the players warmed up with batting practice. He enjoyed the smack of the ball hitting the catcher’s mitt. The sound alone was evident enough that it was a strike. Everything brought back memories of when he was a little kid and his dad would bring him and Casey out for weekend games.
“Eva give you hell?”
“No. I told you she wouldn’t. Nothing sucks worse than making plans after she’s been at home cooking or you know, has something else in mind.”
“You really do love her, don’t you?” Gregg asked, motioning toward the beer vendor. “You want one?”
“I’m good. I’ve got a drink.” He sipped on the soda he had picked up from the concession stand before going in.
“C’mon, McGinnis! That’s not a drink. Get yourself a drink!”
“Gregg, I’m good. I don’t want one.” He tried to keep his cool, but the constant nagging, not only from Gregg, but from others, was starting to wear thin.
“You trying to be an all-around good guy?”
Taking a deep breath, Michael watched a pop fly that landed several rows behind them. “I’m trying to stay sober. I’m an alcoholic. Surprised you hadn’t heard that yet.”
The color drained from Gregg’s face. “No one told me. I’m sorry, man.” He waved the vendor away. “I won’t drink one either.”
“Have as many as you want. I’m not so fragile I can’t see one. Hell, if that were the case I couldn’t step foot in this place. Every other sign is for Budweiser or Coors. I’m stronger than that.” Or he at least hoped he was. He couldn’t be so sure. Glancing over at Gregg, he was slightly embarrassed, but at the same time, it was like one hundred pounds had been lifted off his shoulders. It was better he find out from him rather than the guys at the firehouse.
“You’re a lucky man for winning Eva over.”
Gregg’s random comment sent a chill down Michael’s spine. He had no idea how to respond, so he nodded and watched as the game finally began. It was an odd situation, to see Gregg outside the walls of their work. Was he like this with Eva? How was she able to find comfort in venting to him when he was hesitant to say much to him? Maybe he was being jealous and wasn’t even realizing it. Gregg had his quirks. Everyone did. His judgment of Gregg could have been clouded by the grudge he felt for the man who got to comfort Eva when he was gone.
A beer definitely would have relaxed him. A beer would make him enjoy the awkward situation a bit better. But a beer would also screw up every other aspect of his life. He shook the thought from his mind and focused on the game. The Mets were actually playing decent and as the innings progressed, proved they had a shot at pulling off the win. It’d be a great ending to an otherwise mediocre night.
Glancing down at his phone, he sent Eva a quick text message. Hesitating on what to write, he finally put, “I’m not jealous. It all came out wrong. We still friends?” He put the phone back in his pocket and tried hard not to obsess over it like a lovesick teenager. He failed miserably and continuously checked it and each time he saw she hadn’t answered, the knot in his stomach grew tighter.
“You okay there, bud?” Gregg glanced over at him as he chewed on the last bite of a hot dog.
“Yeah, why?” Michael sat up in his seat, noticing that his posture was slumped, just like his mood.
“You keep checking that phone. Got a hot date after this?”
“Just wondering what time it is.” The excuse came out more lame than it sounded in Michael’s head.
“Who am I kidding? I’m talking to Michael McGinnis, fiancé to Eva Crisante. Of course you’ve got a hot date, I mean, look at your woman.” Gregg gave his shoulder a slight nudge and he let out a throaty laugh.
Michael shot him a hard glance, attempting to keep cool at the mention of Eva. It was no secret that she was attractive, but the thought of Gregg of all people making that observation just made his skin crawl. He still was at a loss for words, and slowly diverted his attention back to the game, which gladly was in the ninth inning with the Mets up by two runs.
“Easy, killer. I’m only kidding.” Gregg nudged his shoulder again. “I’m not trying to steal her. It’s a compliment for both of you.”
“Let’s see if they can hold on to this lead and not blow it right here,” Mikey responded, not caring that his attempt to change the subject was so obvious. Luck was on his side, and the Cubs went three up, three down, giving the Mets a much needed victory.
Michael didn’t give Gregg much of a chance to converse afterward, and was practically halfway down the block before Gregg made any attempt to say anything.
“Yo, McGinnis, thanks for coming out tonight. It’s good to see people outside of work. Get to know the man behind the uniform, you know?”
Nodding, Michael realized all of the sarcastic things he could spout off, but kept it simple. “You couldn’t be more right, Walsh. I’ll see you at work. I gotta get home.” Turning on his heel, he quickened his pace until he was a far enough distance away from his coworker. He felt guilty for being so annoyed. Maybe Eva was right. Maybe he was a jealous asshole who couldn’t see past Gregg actually being there for her. He probably was a great guy and friend. Michael’s instincts said otherwise. The thought of Gregg’s snide comments and backhanded remarks made his skin crawl.
Taking one last glance at his phone, he grit his teeth when he saw Eva still had not replied to his text. He had so much on his mind, and the one person he needed to talk to was giving him the silent treatment.
Chapter Five
Eva was dozing off into a comfortable sleep when she heard the apartment door open and close with a loud thud. Just by the way Mikey slammed the door spoke volumes about his current mood. Burying her face into the pillow, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, bracing herself for what was in store for them. From the time she knew him, she knew he had a temper hotter than a bull, but at the same time, was quick to make peace and keep things from getting too hostile. He hadn’t quite reached his boiling point with the current situation, so it was all up in the air.
He didn’t turn on the light when he came into the room, but she could hear him getting ready for bed. He didn’t say a word as he went into the bathroom. The light peaked from underneath the door, giving her enough light to see his Mets shirt and jeans on the floor next to the hamper. Why he couldn’t just move two inches and drop them inside was beyond her. It was the little things that drove her crazy about him, but it was those same things that made her love him.
Michael flicked off the light as he came out of the bathroom, and Eva continued to stay burrowed under the covers, hoping he’d break the silence first. She felt the covers pull back and his body warmth envelope her. His musky scent was faint as he leaned in, hugging her from behind. His hands wrapped around her waist, his body fitting up against hers. She reached up and ran her hand down his face, his skin feeling like sandpaper against her smooth palm.
“You get my text?” He asked, his breath warm.
She did, but she didn’t have an excuse as to why she didn’t say anything. “Yeah. I didn’t want to say much since you were at the game.”
“I’d have much rather done that than hold a conversation with Gregg.”
Eva shifted to face him. “You didn’t have fun?”
“The Mets won, so the night wasn’t a total bust.” His grasp on her body loo
sened and he rolled over on his back. He clasped his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. “The guy is strange.”
She propped herself up on her elbow, picking her words wisely. “Strange because he’s good friends with me?”
Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, his jaw clenched. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just saying, you haven’t cared for him since you got back. Hell, since you were in Texas and found out about him. It’s like you’re holding this resentment over his head and I can’t understand why. He hasn’t done a damn thing to you, Mikey. So please, you explain why you think he’s weird.” Forget Mikey having a short temper. Her anger was getting the best of her.
“It’s just a gut feeling I have. I can’t put it into words.” His green eyes were sharp, like they could cut right through her.
“I can put it into one simple word, but you don’t want to hear it.” She sat up and leaned back against the headrest.
“And what word is that?”
“One simple word that can sum up this entire shitty situation. Jealousy. That’s right, Mikey, you are jealous.”
“Think what you want, Eva. I’m not jealous.”
She scoffed. “The look on your face tells me you just aren’t so sure. And what I can’t understand is why. Why are you jealous?” She held her ring finger up to his face. “You see that? I’m yours. You’re mine. Gregg is just a friend. So there, Mikey, you can think what you want,” She replied, mimicking how he had said that just a few seconds before. Kicking her legs over the side of the bed, she started toward the kitchen, but his voice stopped her.
“Eva, can I ask you something?” His head was ducked, almost as if he was ashamed. She suddenly felt guilty for their argument.
“What?” She folded her arms over her chest.
Looking up at her as if he were a boy in trouble, he raked his hand through his hair and hesitated before finally speaking. “Did you tell Gregg I’m an alcoholic? I won’t be mad if you did. It’s not exactly hush hush at the firehouse.”
Her curiosity grew as to why he wanted to know that, especially with the sudden change in his mood. Minutes ago he was pissed. “Yes, it came up with him at one point. I didn’t talk bad about you. He wanted a drink when he was here one evening and I told him why there was nothing here. He left it at that.”
Nodding, it seemed like it was the answer he expected.
“Why? Did you not want him to know? I know that you don’t announce it to just anyone, but like you said, it’s common knowledge with the boys at work. I’m sorry if you wanted to be the one to tell him.”
“It’s fine, Eva. I’m not ashamed of it. I was just wondering.”
She sat down beside him on the bed again, grabbing his hand. “You’re a bad liar, Mikey. I don’t know what is going on, but I won’t press you on the matter, at least not right now.”
He squeezed her hand. “Look, Eva, I don’t want to fight. This is stupid. Just trust me when I say I’m not jealous. It feels weird. Just be careful.”
“I don’t want to fight either.”
She leaned in and kissed him, moving closer as he cupped the back of her head. His hand trailed down her side, brushing up against her breasts. It sent a shiver down her spine and a soft moan escaped her lips. His fingers rested at the elastic band of her shorts. Looking into his eyes, his expression changed from worry to adventurous, and his youthful grin melted her heart. He said so much with just his eyes, and at that moment, it was obvious what he was wanting.
Pushing her on her back, he hovered over her. She slid his shirt off and his silver chained necklace dangled in front of her face. She intertwined her index finger in it, gently pulling it down to where he was close enough for her to kiss him again.
“If fighting means we get to do this, I’m up for duking it out all the time.”
Mikey glanced down at his boxers. “Something else is up for it too.”
“You’re such a perv,” she replied, letting out a laugh as Mikey’s soft lips trailed down her neck and elsewhere. Sighing, she closed her eyes and enjoyed every second of it.
***
Eva left for work early that morning and Michael tried his best to go back to sleep for a while. He was glad to have the day off, but wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He had only had a couple of tours since coming back from being hurt, and felt antsy, like the apartment walls were closing in on him.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, he stared down at his running shoes that were hanging out from the closet. It had been awhile since he hit the streets, and the weather was almost pristine for a workout. Stretching his arms out, he forced himself up and got dressed in sweats, a hoodie, and a Mets baseball cap. Before heading out, he made sure he had his ear buds, an essential part of what he needed on his jogs.
The air was cool and crisp. The morning commute was thinning out, as well as the amount of pedestrians on the sidewalk. Michael stuffed his ear buds in each ear and cranked on some hard rock music to get motivated.
His lungs stung just a few minutes into the run, but he fought his body’s warnings and pressed on. He was not going to succumb to his brain urging him to stop. A couple of women stopped in their tracks and watched as he went by, one waving as he passed. He ducked his head under his hat bill and ignored them, oblivious to anything they might be yelling his way. After about fifteen minutes he turned around and headed back. It wasn’t a bad run for not doing it in months. He stopped at the stoop of the apartment building and stretched his legs, enjoying the sweat that soaked into his shirt and down his chest.
The natural high was invigorating and it also helped with everything he had on his mind. Things that worried him thirty minutes ago seemed like mere hiccups in the whole scheme of things.
“Hey there.”
Michael felt a tap on his shoulder and he quickly turned around, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the familiar man behind him. He muted the music on his phone and pulled the headphones out, feeling awkward almost instantly.
“You’re Eva’s fiancé, right? Mickey?”
“Mikey,” he replied. “You’re her dad, right?” What was his name? Alvin? Alex? No, it was Albert. Michael hoped he didn’t see the contemplation on his face.
“Yeah. She around?”
“No, she has a shift today.”
“Oh, damn. I came in from Staten Island for some errands. Thought I’d stop by and pay her a visit.”
Michael nodded and looked up at the apartment building and back down. “The firehouse isn’t far from here if you want to stop by there. Chances of her being there are slim, though.” Hesitating, he lifted his cap and readjusted it on his head. “You can come up if you want. No sense in coming this far for nothing.”
Albert looked unsure. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I? Looks like you were really getting into that workout.”
Michael held up a hand as he keyed in the code and opened the door to the entrance. “I was just finishing up. It’s no problem.” He felt nervous. This was the man who recently lost his cool at the fact that he and Eva were now engaged. He wasn’t hip to him being a firefighter, and showed no bones about it. To give him some credit, he did apologize for his outburst, but Michael was still uneasy around him. He had this look on his face like he knew he was screwing his little girl and didn’t approve of it. To make things worse, he was now at their home. He’d been with Eva for a long time, and this was the most he had ever been around her family.
Opening the door to the apartment, he was thankful Eva had straightened up and did some cleaning the night before. “You want something to drink?” he asked as he ducked out of his hoodie and draped it over the couch.
“You got any beer?”
Michael glanced up at the clock. Did he seriously want a beer at ten thirty in the morning? Reaching for the refrigerator handle, he shook his head no. “Water, soda, or tea. No beer, unfortunately.” He couldn’t help but think about how a beer would relax him, just like the
night before at the baseball game. Why was he suddenly resorting to thinking about how a beer would calm him? He had been pretty good about shoving those thoughts to the back of his mind, but then again, he hadn’t been put into so many tense situations with people he didn’t know well.
“I’m just kidding there, Mickey. You must think I’m one of those crazy ass alcoholics for asking for a drink so early. Water will be fine.”
He tossed Albert a bottle and cringed at the sound of being called Mickey again. He wasn’t sure if he should correct him or not, so he let it be. “Sorry you missed, Eva. Seems I hardly get to see her, too.” He drank down almost half of his water and slid it between his hands on the bar.
“It’s fine. While I’m here though, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“You gonna be able to take care of my daughter?” His dark eyes were hard and his serious expression didn’t fade. He wanted an answer, and it took Michael a second to grasp his bearings from being put on the spot.
“Of course I’m gonna take care of her, sir. I wouldn’t have asked her to marry me if I didn’t intend to.”
Albert sipped on his water, never taking his eyes off of Michael. “I know your intention is to take care of her, but what I’m asking is if you will be able to. There’s a difference.”
“Yes, there is a difference. And yes, I’m able to.” Michael wanted to boot him out of the door. He should have never let him in to belittle him under his own roof. The last thing he needed to do was show his frustration. Part of his duty in taking care of Eva was tolerating her family.
“Being FDNY implies so much. Like I said the other day, it’s dangerous, it’s…”
Michael cut him off, leaning forward. “I hear you, loud and clear, but with all due respect, Mr. Crisante, we could step out on that street and be hit by a cab. We could die in our sleep. There are risks in life just getting out of bed in the morning. If you’re gonna stand here and judge my ability to take care of your daughter based on my job, it’s not a real fair assumption about the man I am.” He folded his arms over his chest and stared the older man down. “I’m no stranger to the possibilities of what could happen to me on the job. I lost my dad when I was fourteen in a fire. His death screwed my family up more than you can probably comprehend. But here I stand. I’m marrying your daughter, and I’m gonna make damn sure she’s taken care of. You can take it or leave it.”