“You said you were going to make some calls.”
“I am,” he said. “I just wanted to touch base for a second.”
I swallowed hard.
Outside, Linda was living her hell.
In a way, I was living my version of hell on the inside.
But Ben was touching me. His hands against my hips. Fingers spread. He gently eased his hands up and down my body, coming so close to touching my breasts. Moving my shirt up enough to expose skin for his fingers to touch.
He leaned in on me and exhaled a scotch laced breath. His lips pressed against mine and I exhaled, feeling myself starting to melt.
I parted my lips, finding the words to put together to say something to him. I wanted to be dirty.
Ben almost put his lips to mine again. “Did you decide on dinner yet?”
I sighed and shut my eyes again.
“We were supposed to order something to eat…”
“Who gives a fuck about food right now, Kins?”
He takes me right there. Right in the kitchen. The table scratching the floor. A plant tips over, dirt on the table. Somehow a chair gets kicked over. I gasp for air as I tilt my head back, my arms and legs wrapped tightly around him as he has me. I manage to get a breath of fresh air as his tongue writes a love letter on my chest. In a quick move, he sweeps me off the table and we’re now on the floor. The hard, linoleum floor. I’m not sure if I’m actually screaming his name as loud as I think I am in my mind… or if it’s just weird noises like I’m speaking in tongues. But who cares? Oh, who the fuck cares? I needed this so badly today. So fucking badly. And I didn’t have to tell him. He just knew. He always knows what I want and when and how to do it…
Now he’s on the floor and my head is on his chest. I want to stay like this forever. I slowly prop up my chin on his chest.
He looks down at me and smiles.
“Yeah, I know. Food. We fucked up.”
“I’m extra hungry now.”
“Want to know the best part of ordering out?”
“What?”
“If I call right now, we have another thirty minutes to kill…”
When reality smacked me in the mouth again, I found myself standing with my back against the window. Ben walked away and was standing at the kitchen sink, looking at his phone. My toes curled in my shoes for a reason that should’ve made me guilty. Outside I could still hear Dave and Linda arguing.
A good friend would have already gone out there to help. Of course I couldn’t fix the problem, but I could maybe spare embarrassment for Linda and shame for Paige. Of course, it wasn’t my job to do that.
“We can just call Antonio’s,” Ben said. “They have a full menu, you know? Not just pizza and subs.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said in a dry voice.
I slowly turned, just in time to see Dave get into his truck and speed away. Linda stood there, shaking her head. She looked ready to cry. I should have been there. I should have walked to her right then. But Linda had her own comfort, just like Ben suggested. She took out a pack of cigarettes and stuck one between her lips. Knowing Linda, she would go inside, spin a story, and let Paige pick something for dinner.
That was strength.
I turned from the window and Ben held his hand out.
“What?” I asked.
“Call and order.”
“Why can’t you call?”
“Actually, use your phone,” he said. “I’m going to make my calls while the food is coming. I wrote down what I want on a piece of paper.” He leaned in and kissed my forehead. “Love you, Kinsley.”
He exited the kitchen.
“Love you too,” I whispered.
I stepped toward the sink and looked at his nice handwriting.
I guess I was ordering dinner.
Which wasn’t a big deal. It was a simple phone call.
Instead of just calling Antonio’s, I had to check my email. My way of maybe taking a little shot at Ben for everything he just said.
There were no emails on my emergency work email.
But there was an email waiting somewhere else.
Another email from Brice.
Kinsley -
Hey, Love. You can’t imagine what it was like to see that you replied to me. There was a part of me that figured there was no way in hell you’d actually write back. Not that I would blame you either way. You mentioned about time and life and that stuff either works together or against us, and you’re right. It’s just a crazy ride. We’re lucky if we can keep our stomachs settled and get a decent night of sleep half the time.
I know I haven’t slept since writing you that email.
You know damn well that there were about a million words I had to leave out.
I can’t believe we’re writing emails, Kins. After everything we’ve been through. So, I’ll just get right to the point here. Is there any harm in meeting up for a coffee? A beer? A glass of fucking water even? I don’t know where you’re at in your life right now, but in some way we owe it to each other, don’t we? I know that sounds cheap, but cheap is what I’ve always done and that’s what always worked for you.
Just think about it and let me know. I still stand by what I told you the last time we actually spoke. One of my shoulders is forever reserved for you. That much of my promise I can always keep for you. It doesn’t have to mean more than that. I would love to hear everything about Kinsley’s life. I have this image of you and it’s amazing. You were always meant for something amazing. I’m sure you’re sitting - or standing - rolling your eyes, second guessing everything that you’re doing, but you shouldn’t. I know whatever you’re doing, it’s right where you’re meant to be.
I was at the soccer field for a good reason. I’m not exactly sure an email is the best way to talk about certain things. But what I can tell you is that I don’t have any kids. I’m not married or engaged. I’m just helping someone that needs it. You mentioned you were sort of doing the same. You know, it kind of threw me for a loop when I saw you and that young girl. My mind lost itself for a little bit there. It drove me a little mad to imagine you finding new comfort somewhere else so quickly and having a kid.
Anyway, to stay on track, I was basically there for the same reason you were.
Look at us, huh? Even when we aren’t together or know what the hell the other person is doing in life, we still manage to cross paths.
I don’t want to stop typing right now, Kins. Because I don’t know if you’re going to read this or respond. I would give anything to have you sitting across from me. So I can see you. Study your features. Take a breath and hear your voice. I’m just going to keep rambling about dumb shit for a bit here. But I have a surprise waiting for you, so it’s sort of worth it to keep reading.
I found this little place in the woods that I bought and I’m making it my own. The leaves look really amazing right now. It’s way better than where I had been living before this. A nice studio apartment on the second floor of a building with a view. That wasn’t me though. This place is becoming me. I’m not sure how long I’m sticking around. Yet, I bought this place. Go figure, right? Act first, think later. That was the way we lived, huh?
Maybe someday you could come out here and see this place. It reminds me of the place you used to dream about. You always dreamed of three things. A nice house that wasn’t too big and annoying. A small place on the beach. And a small cabin in the woods. I’m not sure anyone in the world could argue with that, right? A place to go for all seasons and all wants and needs.
One thing I’m wondering about out here is what winter is going to look like. The snow is going to look amazing, but driving around in it? That’s going to be something else. I’m not sure what’s going to happen. I might get snowed in here for weeks at a time. That means I’d better keep a stock of canned foods and whiskey. I’m laughing, Kins. Imagine me sitting in some beaten up robe that has patches of mismatched colors. Hovering in front of a fireplace with an open can of beans. The jagg
ed edges of the lid half peeled open. A crooked fork stuck into the can. A half-empty bottle of whiskey next to me. My hair long and messy. My beard full and unkempt.
Yeah, that’s the good life I bet.
Tell me something about your life, Kins. I don’t care what it is. I want to know what you’re up to now. What you’re doing. Who you’re with. All that good stuff. We have so much between us now, there’s no shame in trying to just talk and see what happens, right? I know this is going to sound weird, but do you ever feel like you lost a piece of yourself back then? Not us hurting each other or anything like that. But it’s just kind of like… fuck. Right? You just look in the mirror and wonder what the fuck is going on. Shit, maybe that’s growing up, huh? Think about it. We spent all that time refusing that shit. Hiding when it swept through. Throwing the middle finger at anything that showed the threat of responsibility. But now we’re trapped, aren’t we? Maybe that’s too dramatic though. We’re never truly trapped. There’s always a decision to make. Or a way out. It’s not easy to make that decision though, you know? But nothing lasts forever. Which is maybe the saddest part of everything. That no matter what you do, nothing will last. That’s why you need to jump. Headfirst. Feet first. Whatever it is, you just jump. Because you never know what could happen.
Then again, consider the source here, huh? Everything that happened to us after we jumped. I don’t know about you, Kins, but I never stop jumping. Worst case, I lose some time and then it’s all over from there. That’s just life.
Yeah, I’m officially rambling now. I’ve gone from talking about you, about me, about leaves, and about the depths of life. Which is funny because nobody knows a fucking thing about life. People talk about lining up their ducks or whatever. You spend all that time lining up your ducks and you’re dead tired, and you turn for one second and half the ducks drown or swim away.
Ah, whatever.
I’ll just say it as I want to.
I miss you like hell, Kins. Not a day goes by when I don’t think about you. Sorry if that’s something you don’t want to hear right now. But it’s the truth. I’m hoping this emailing thing isn’t going to be our new forever. A cup of coffee. A cold beer at the end of a long day. Or maybe you’re some crazy yoga chick now who drinks kombucha. Yeah, I’m laughing pretty hard imagining that.
I promised you something at the end of this email.
You wanted to know if this was really me.
So I’m including a picture I found.
I remember this girl so vividly… and yet the woman I saw last week is stuck in my mind too.
Face it, you’re glue, I’m paper, and we don’t stand a chance…
Hope to hear from you, Love.
Brice
I clicked the attachment at the end of the email.
I stood at the kitchen sink with the pale light above it shining down on the stainless-steel faucet and deep sink. That stuff didn’t matter though. That was just stuff.
The picture popped up, consuming the entire screen of my phone.
I lost my breath when I saw the picture of me standing with the horse.
“Peppermint,” I whispered.
That was the horse’s name.
We lived right next to a small horse farm. Peppermint and Rose. There were more horses that came and went, but those two were my favorites.
I looked at myself, my cheek resting against Peppermint’s face. The beautiful dark chocolate colored horse stood there so majestically, staring right at the camera, so calm and comfortable around me. I looked so happy, as though I was in mid breath when Brice snapped the picture. A smile on my face. My left hand touching the other side of Peppermint’s face, keeping her close to me.
My hair was short, my bangs touching my cheekbones. My hair was a mess too. Kind of like what it looked like when I rolled out of bed was how I just lived for the day. Which was probably true. That was me a long time ago.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
I let out a scream and almost dropped the phone.
“Ben,” I said. “You scared me.”
“You scared me,” he said. “I woke up and you weren’t in bed. Thought you’d left me.”
“What? No. I…”
“Is that you?”
Next thing I knew, Ben was next to me at the kitchen sink.
Shit.
He grabbed my phone and stared at the picture.
My heart pounded faster than the last time he took my phone. One click, and the picture could close and the email from Brice would be right there.
“That’s me from a long time ago,” I said.
“Jesus,” he said. “Look at your hair.”
“I know. Right?”
“Short hair? And a horse?” Ben looked at me. “You had a horse?”
“No. My neighbor did. I loved that horse though. She was-”
“Wow,” he cut in. “This is like a different version of you, Kinsley. I wouldn’t even recognize you if you walked by me on the street looking like this. So glad that’s in the past, right?”
“Uh, yeah,” I said. I reached for my phone. “It’s fun to look at old pictures though sometimes.”
“Yeah, sure. I prefer reality though. You get lost in the past… you get lost for good.”
I nodded and smiled.
I hurried to turn the phone screen off.
Ben touched my lower back. “Ready for bed now?”
“Yeah,” I said.
I wasn’t ready for bed. I wanted to stare at that picture for hours. I wanted to go back to that moment, that day, that life. I wanted to read the email again. I looked over at Ben as we walked through the dark house.
The guilt burned, but I couldn’t help myself.
“Hey, where did you get that picture from?” he asked as we walked up the steps.
My mind scrambled for a few seconds. “Oh. That’s a long story. Just something from a long time ago.”
“Right,” he said.
He didn’t say another word to me.
I probably should have been worried if he was pissed or suspected something.
But the truth was that I sat up in bed, thinking about Brice.
There was no jumping in this situation.
The problem was that I was already falling.
8
Hey Coach
Brice
Dear Brice,
I can’t believe you have that picture still! OMG, as soon as it popped up on my phone, it took my breath away. I remember everything about that picture, that day, and beautiful Peppermint. And Rose, of course. They were my favorites. I think they liked us. Everyone always laughed at me for saying that horses could read us and judge us, but it was true. You know it. You were there. Peppermint would stand there every morning and wait for me. I’d walk to him with my cup of coffee and a carrot. It was a standing date. Probably the best date of my life. No offense to you. (I’m snorting while laughing, imagining your face when you realize I had a better date with a horse than you… but you know I’m totally joking.)
You know, I look at that picture and there’s one question that hits me hard.
What happened?
I mean, not with us or anything. I’m not questioning that. I don’t want to end up hurting myself or you with those kinds of questions. But maybe just in life in general. It felt like things were going along so smoothly. Then one day it all changed. Like we were thrown into the fast lane of life. Where everything moved a hundred times faster than normal. I can’t remember the last time I saw Peppermint or Rose. I really don’t remember leaving that little cabin and moving into our first apartment. And then from there we ended up in that rental house. And then… well, you know the rest. That part is always fresh in my mind. That’s where our home was going to start. But it ended up as a version of hell, right?
Eh, sorry to go that route again here. We’re supposed to be talking and laughing at the memories. Not grasping for the low hanging bad ones.
But honestly, thank you for sending
that picture to me. I needed to see that picture. Like, I don’t know, I was waiting for that moment, if that makes sense. And there you were, as always, Brice, to save the day with either the right thing to say or do. Not that I’m in any trouble or anything. It was just a really long and exhausting day. Believe it or not, I’m actually a veterinarian. I know, your eyes are probably two miles wide right now. Here’s another for you… I own my own practice. It’s nothing fancy. It’s this little Cape Cod house that was converted into a business office. But it’s mine. And I make it work. I have a wonderful list of patients and I get to spend my days with animals. Some days aren’t good at all though. You know, there was this dog last week… her name was Ginger. She was this beautiful yellow lab. You could tell there was some age in her eyes. She had more spirit and wisdom than most people I deal with on a daily basis.
(Okay, and for the record, I can totally hear you laughing now as I talk about animals. But to be fair, you were the only one who understood when I talked like this. So cut me some slack and stop laughing.)
Ginger was sixteen years old, Brice. Imagine that for a dog. What an amazing life. The woman there with Ginger had her two kids with her. A son and a daughter. Her son was twenty-one, which meant he was just, what, five when they got her. The daughter was eighteen, so that meant she was two. She told me the story of how Santa brought Ginger that one year. Then she told me how her husband passed away five years ago from cancer. Right about the same time that Ginger was diagnosed with cancer. Ginger beat cancer and never left this woman’s side. This dog saved this grieving widow and two kids after they lost their husband and father.
I had seen Ginger many times before, but not like this. This was private. This was a goodbye. It was time for her to go. Making that decision and talking about it is the hardest part of my job. But in some ways, it’s beautiful to be part of it. To give the family time alone before it’s time. And then… they all sat on a bench together with Ginger spread across their laps. Here’s this mother, my height, with her two kids, taller than her, a head on each shoulder, crying as they kept petting Ginger. And in the woman’s hand was a picture of her husband holding Ginger on that Christmas morning. This tiny yellow lab with a red ribbon around its skinny neck.
Somebody Else (Somebody, Nobody Duet Book 1) Page 7