by Bri Stone
“Fine. Fine.”
“I’m okay. Just studying a lot.”
“I’m sure you are, you’re going to do great. Both my daughters are smarter than me, how about it?”
I laughed at the absurdity. Dad was a nautical engineer, and he worked on a cargo ship that was away at sea for nine months out of the year. He was only home November through January, so Clem and I always made sure we were home then. Even calling on his cell wasn’t guaranteed, so we had his satellite number as well. Anyway, he is smart. But there aren’t many glamorous jobs for nautical engineers.
“Oh stop, dad.”
“What’s really going on? You know I can tell.”
I sighed in defeat, “nothing really. Just...guy trouble.” I consider myself lucky enough to talk to my dad about men without cringing. Though any guy I brought home in high school still got his ‘I’m not afraid to go back to prison’ speech. No, he had never been to prison. And yes, it was only one guy.
“What did he do?” He graveled, though it was funny when he was trying to be serious.
“Nothing. I turned down a date with him, have been for a year. It was going to be tomorrow, but I told him I was coming to see you.”
Dad laughs, “you plan to fly over the pacific?”
I frowned.
“Look sweetie, I know you’ve been different since your mother left us. We all have. But you can’t stay stuck there, it’s years behind you and you must move forward. Not everyone you love will suffer the same fate as her.” Translation: not everyone you love will leave.
“I know...”
“If I knew how things would end, I still would have done the same thing.” He added.
Clem got her counseling gene from dad, it seemed. I couldn’t express emotions properly at all.
He always said love would be worth it, even knowing he would lose her. But I still wonder; these people who say love is worth all that pain must have spoken too soon or didn’t really mean it.
“What do I do?”
“Tell the truth. I raised you to be honest, so you’ve got to be. And if he is a standup guy and passes the background check, you have nothing to worry about.”
“Dad,” I laugh through near tears, “don’t do that.”
“I won’t. Maybe. Anyway, just keep your head up. And call more, you know I’ve got the phone bill.”
I nodded. He is the only one I really call; him and Clem. Plus, it’s always cheaper with a family plan.
“I know. Thanks, Dad.”
“Anytime. I love you, baby girl.”
I smiled inwardly, the pet name always sunk in deep. But it gets confusing if both Clem and I are in the same room.
“I love you too, Dad.”
The dial tone brought the tears to my eyes. The only thing that would top that conversation was a hug from my teddy-bear dad. But he was off at sea, and I was away at school. Pushing away the only person who comforted me these days. It hurts to know that I hurt him, but I was so embarrassed of it I didn’t know what to say. What if I just hurt him again? He deserves one of the other women fawning after him, calling him Hunk M.D.
He was a hunk, that’s what made it so hard. I dozed off on the couch, faintly aware that I was still awake. It was an uneasy nap and I woke up irritable and thirsty. I checked my phone, it was 2 am. I don’t know why I looked for a message from Thom, but I did.
1 Mission St.
San Francisco, CA 94105
7 PM
My vision blurred as I read it over. Of course, he knew I was lying, and he was giving me another chance. My gut told me it was my last one. As if providence itself was angry with me, my phone died, and I rushed to plug it in. It needed a few minutes to recharge so I took a hot shower, crying the whole way through. I must have stayed in for an hour because I was pruning. I got out, skin raw, and threw on an old large tee shirt.
I curled up in bed and read the text over and over. It was the address to the restaurant, I knew that much. He hadn’t given up on me, but I was on thin ice. I would regret it if I didn’t go; not kissing him or being with him. He was the only man I had ever met that made me swell at the thought of sex, and it was deeper still.
It was in my heart.
Melinda said one thing that drilled my brain until I fell into an uneasy sleep. I knew she was joking in the cafeteria, but it still stuck raw. Without ever going on a real date, without knowing his middle name or without ever even kissing him... Do you really think he loves you?
Yes.
Chapter Nine: Thom
MY ANGER WAS WHITE hot, and I had no way to quench it. The very thing making me mad was the one thing that could calm me down. Perrie lied; thinking of her smile calmed me down. I remembered whose smile it was, and I was mad again.
The cycle stewed on until I pulled onto Ocean Avenue and found Stan parked in my spare spot. I should have known accepting his gift would mean him showing up whenever he wants. It was less of a gift and more of his losing bet. Back when I first decided to go to Med school, and he bet I would change my mind after a year. I didn’t. I bet he had to buy me any place I picked if I didn’t, and if I lost I would have to work for his charity for a year. It wasn’t the best of bets, but I was fifteen at the time, he was going easy on me.
“What are you doing here?” I park next to him and get out. He smiled smugly, leaning against his Benz SUV in a leather jacket. He doesn’t really dress his age.
“I can’t come see you?” He crosses the space and we shake hello.
“Sure, but can you maybe call first?” My voice was tight.
I was still frustrated and angry. I ran a hand through my hair as I punched the up button on the elevator in the parking garage. I lived on the first floor to make life easier, but I’m not all that disabled.
“What’s up?” He inquires. I stand in front of him in the elevator, hoping he’ll change his mind and leave.
I clenched my fists to channel some of my anger. Why? I keep asking, why? At her and myself. It’s been an entire year, and I am back to square one. Did something happen to her that I don’t know about? Who hurt her so much, that she can’t let me in? Or did she do the hurting and is avoiding it? I couldn’t imagine Perrie hurting anyone. The elevator dings and I cross the hall to my place.
“I hear you thinking.” Stan follows in behind me and locks the door.
I throw my keys down and head straight for the liquor cabinet. But, there is no liquor in it because I don’t drink it. I see the Perrier water and I get livid all over again. I slam the counter shut, slump over and punch the granite countertops.
“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” I finally say. I felt Stan not far behind me.
“Most of the time, it’s nothing.”
I shook my head. “It’s Perrie.”
“The one you’re going on a date with tomorrow?”
I stood up then and faced him with a shrug. “I don’t know. She said she was going to see her dad and forgot.”
“You believe her?”
“Fuck no. I know she is lying.”
He frowns and scratches his jaw the same way I do when I think.
“Well...” he was as lost as I was. “No benefit of the doubt?”
I shook my head. “There is nothing I can do anymore. I thought I finally broke through whatever wall she had up. I guess not.”
“You really like her.” He stated.
I nod, “Yeah. But it’s more than like. She means much more than that to me. I haven’t even gotten the chance to tell her that.”
“You will.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know for sure.” I look in his eyes, and he is very apologetic. Sometimes I look at him and it’s like looking in a mirror; maybe we are the same old souls that comfort each other. Stan doesn’t have family, he barred off all women long ago for some unknown reason—relationships, that is. He’s still a man. I lost my only family just over a year ago, and it still hurts raw.
Mom would know what to say. But I can’t ta
lk to her, and it sucks. It fucking sucks that I have lost her, and I never had time to mourn properly. The only thing that kept me through it was Perrie. We were together on the day it happened, but I didn’t tell her what the day meant to me. I couldn’t yet. I just knew without her there, I would have reclused so badly I don’t know if I ever would have made it out.
“Thinking about your mom?” Stan guesses after nearly thirty minutes of silence.
“Yeah. She’d know what to say.”
“Sorry, I’m no worthy substitute.”
I manage a smile. “It’s fine.”
“You don’t want to talk to her? Perrie, I mean.”
“No. I have to let her come to me. To tell me the truth, and finally explain why she has been acting this way.”
Stan nods. “That’s a good plan.”
“Sorry to waste your reservations.” I shrugged. He laughed and went into my fridge, looking disappointed to find there isn’t much there. I only moved in a few weeks ago, so I was still getting settled.
“Oh, we aren’t wasting them.” His smile was sly.
“What?”
He gives me a look, “we have a lot to catch up on. Why not do it over dinner?”
“I guess.”
He hung out for a few more minutes, until he was sure I could be alone, I guessed. Maybe I wanted him there too.
“How about this; text her the address and the reservation. She makes the choice.” Stan suggested.
“I might...why did you come here anyway?”
I lean off the counter. He grabbed his jacket to signify he was leaving. He lets out a dejected sigh and turns to face me at the door.
“Because, I couldn’t wait a year.”
I groan and roll my eyes.
“I already ran your blood work from a few days ago.”
My spine chills as I stare back at him. I wasn’t even mad, just surprised he actually went through with it.
“And?” I ask tentatively. Do I even want to know? But his face said it all. Stone cold, he stared back at me unblinking.
“You have the gene. Mutation alone won’t make it a sure thing, but it’s there. The same way it was in your mother.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. I just nodded, and he clapped my shoulder with a rub. We both knew it wasn’t a sealed deal, but it was on the table. Real and in black ink. There was a greater chance I had it, more than not. I immediately thought of Perrie. Did she have a fatal disease I didn’t know about?
Because that would be the only thing I would ever let keep me from her.
Chapter Ten: Thom
TABATA WORKOUTS WERE the best thing for me. Intense for just the right amount of time, and then I could rest for a few minutes. I did that for about an hour and then used the bike for as long as I could. I wasn’t going to let weak lungs do me in, I have a reputation to uphold.
Even after my chest tightened and I started seeing spots I tried to work more of my frustration out on the workout. I woke up still pissed off at Perrie, well; as much as I could be. It was hard to ever be mad at her.
There had to be some reason as to why she was acting this way. I racked my brain trying to figure out what, but I could never guess on my own.
I usually show up at her place after my workouts on Saturday with bagels, asiago is her favorite. But I didn’t. I wasn’t even sure if I would have regardless of the circumstances, I was still thinking of our date.
She didn’t reply to my message, so I had no idea if she was coming. I just had to show up, like some sad romantic movie, and wait for her. How long would I give her? I asked myself. Stan would keep me company, but I was sure he would find a female companion for the night and leave me in a mood.
I walked across the street to the Whole Foods and grabbed a few groceries, then headed back to my place for a much-needed shower. I didn’t know why I kept expecting her to call, wishful thinking I suppose. I realized I hadn’t spent a Saturday apart from her since we met a year ago. We were always doing something; studying, hanging out; and it occurred that I didn’t know much about her. I knew about her sister but that was only because she came up in passing. What is the rest of her family like? I knew about her mother’s passing as well, but it must have something to do with her obvious aversion to a relationship.
I only learned so much from her Facebook page, back when we exchanged them. She had a relatively normal life, and she didn’t talk much about it. There was a huge gap when she was fifteen up until the start of college, but she just played it off as a phase. It’s like she doesn’t trust me, and I don’t know why. I told her about my mom, but not any of the details. Did I have to open up more? I kept thinking it was my fault.
“Wear something nice. Don’t embarrass me.” Stan called me around six to tell me he was headed to the restaurant.
“Right, and I should tell you to dress your age too then, huh?” I shook my head.
He chuckled, “hang up.”
I laughed and got up from my lounge chair to get dressed. It was a struggle to not call Perrie and convince her to come if she wasn’t already. She could actually be with her dad. Right.
But I didn’t. I just dressed as I assumed I would if I was stopping at the flower shop before I went to her place to pick her up. I put on a good pair of khakis, dark enough to be fancy; dress shoes, and a white button up. I rolled the sleeves up once and added on a silver wrist watch. My hair wasn’t in a good mood since I hadn’t cut it in a while, so I tried slicking it back, but it just ended up artfully messy. At least I think it was.
I obsessively checked my phone at every stoplight on the way to Boulevard. There was nothing. The Jeep got valeted, and after I tipped the guy I stepped inside to find Stan at the bar already talking a woman up. At least she looked closer to his age, but in a relatively modest cocktail dress.
“Stan.” I announced myself behind him before I heard the end of his sentence. The woman looked at me and smiled. It’s so easy for him to get gorgeous women.
“Is this your son?” She looked half intrigued and half mortified that Stan was older than she thought. Stan just laughed and didn’t answer as I sat next to him on the other side, shaking my head ‘no’ to answer the woman.
“You couldn’t wait until after we got a table?” I asked him. He shrugged with an apologetic smile. I saw him slip the woman something, and whisper in her ear before she walked off with a smile and wink.
He turns to me with a smug smile. I feign a look of disappointment, but I can’t help but smile too. It’s just who Stan is. The bartender comes by and I get a club soda, Stan gets another Gin.
“Ten minutes.” He waves his Rolex at me. At least he didn’t wear any leather.
“Don’t countdown.” I tensed. I felt his eyes on me, even as I stared forward.
The ambiance was classy, aka boring, so there was nothing to look at except the people. We might have been the only ones in there not on a date. White tablecloths, candle center pieces, dim lights.
“You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?” He lowered his voice, more serious now.
“Yeah,” I met his eyes, “I know it sounds crazy but, she’s the one. I don’t want to give up on her.”
He shoves me soft, “Then don’t.”
“But I can’t keep coming after her, either. Sooner or later, I’ll just look foolish.” I took down the rest of my drink. I barely had lunch, so I was starving.
“Maybe. But if you think it will be worth it in the end, then why not do it?” He drinks his Gin and slams it down. “The best ones don’t come easy.” He added. It sounded like he was talking about someone else at the same time, but I didn’t pry.
“Thom Edwards?” The hostess appeared behind me, and it was actually funny watching her figure out which one of us to stare at.
“Yeah.” I forwent telling her the ‘h’ is silent. It gets old.
She smiled at me, “Your table is ready.” She clutched the menus to her chest as she flushed. I suppose I’m lucky
to be so good looking.
“Uh, thanks.” I looked to Stan and he just shrugged.
In the time he reached in his pocket to pay the bartender, I stood up a little defeated. I hoped Perrie would be here, and I couldn’t stop the drop in my chest at the realization that she wasn’t. Stan turned back around and glanced at me, then his eyes drifted past me.
I felt her before I saw her.
The vice around my heart released. The room was brighter, I breathed easier.
I turned around and she stood there smiling, the setting sun behind her cast a glow around her that made her look ethereal. I took her in; her honey hair curled in waves, a light pink dress with thin straps that showed off her strong shoulders and stopped just short of her knees, showing off her toned legs. I had been staring at her, but I couldn’t believe she was actually here.
I knew it only seemed like her showing up to a date or admitting that she had lied. I wasn’t even on that anymore, because this meant so much more.
This was the beginning of us.
Stan steps forward and whispers in my ear, “Now it makes sense. She is way out of your league.”
Chapter Eleven: Perrie
MY ODD SLEEPING SCHEDULE had me up at nine in the morning. Even on weekends, I don’t really sleep in, but I felt so different. It was just my ill-timed nap, I told myself. But I knew it was my conscience.
Eating at me.
Ridiculing me for lying.
I deserved it, and I welcomed it. But it weighed me down and kept me in bed until my bladder said otherwise. I was pent up with frustration, mostly at myself for what I had done. I reread his text over and over, trying to decide and not knowing why it was even so hard. Why can’t I just move forward? Why can’t I just be with him?
I skipped breakfast and drank a black cup of coffee to punish myself. Then I dressed in black tights and a yellow Nike shirt to punish myself in the gym. I still did the same workouts on the ergometer that I did in my undergrad. I could have tried out for the National team, and I probably would have made it. I would have spent 2008 at the Olympics instead of racing the rest of senior year away, buried in a book. I don’t regret it, I don’t think. I wanted to focus on school—what is with me and focusing on school?