by gard, marian
I'm completely thrown by Reba's snotty and condescending tone. I thought she liked Rachel? What the hell? Fueled by confusion and anger I shoot back at her.
"That girl? That girl is goddamn amazing, Reba! She's creative, talented and passionate about things that matter!" I shout. I yank the celebrity gossip from her hands, underscoring my point. Reba's mouth falls open. "She's always worked really hard at everything, even though no one expected it of her—let alone encouraged or supported her!" Suddenly, it all just pours out of me. "She manages to make me feel like I could be better at everything in my life without ever judging me—even when I'm at my worst." I feel my heart pound. Holy shit—I'm worked up. I run my fingers through my hair, and suddenly realize Reba's wearing her I-told-you-so-grin. Wait. What?
"Hell yeah, Collin!" She cheers. "Way to get all caveman crazy!" My face is flushed. I reach up and touch it, feeling the heat, while I try to think of something to shoot back at her, but she just rattles on. "Do you know what you told me when I asked you about Leighton? You said you liked her energy and then barely added that she was cute and smart, like the rest of her personality was just an afterthought. You've got it bad for Raven." She smiles her enormous toothy grin. "And frankly, Collin, I don't think you could've picked anyone more perfect for you. I've got no clue what's held the two of you apart all of this time and neither of you jerks will tell me, but you," she points a long, manicured finger at me, "better fix it!"
I hold my hand over my heart. Reba, of all people, just bamboozled me into sharing my emotions. I'm not sure what's more pathetic? The fact that Reba tricked me so easily, or that apparently that's what it takes for me to share something personal. Jesus. She giggles at the stupid look on my face.
"I totally dig her by the way," she adds. "As fun as it was to tease you just now; I want to be clear about that—she's great." She reclaims her magazine, rolls it into a tube, and smacks me hard in the arm with it. "I totally got you!"
"You did." I elbow her. "Bitch!" She smiles wickedly, clearly proud of herself.
I take a deep breath. "We've been having lunch on Wednesdays," I say flatly.
"Ooooh!" She squeals. "Scandalous! What about the boyfriend? What does he think of your lunch dates?"
"They broke up."
Reba slams her hand on the counter. "Collin, this is huge!" I crack an involuntary smile and have to turn my head away from her. "What are you waiting for?" She shoves me.
"I don't want to push too hard…you know, push her away."
She shakes her head disapprovingly. "Well don't wait too long, Collin. You may not be the only guy pleased to hear she's updated her relationship status."
I give her a confused look.
I earn another eye roll. "You know, on Facebook?"
"That's a thing grown adults do, not just little teenagers?" She nods, looking appalled at my social media ignorance. Now I'm rolling my eyes, but she may have a point.
Chapter 32
Rachel
I choose a sushi place for lunch this week and we decide to split a ridiculously large special tray, which I'm sure was intended for a group to share, not two people on their lunch break. The idea to do it started off as a joke, but then neither of us backed off the dare.
Collin is dressed more casually today than he's been for any of our other lunches. He's still in work attire, but his dress-shirt sleeves are rolled up and he doesn't have a tie today. I notice he has his two buttons undone too, adding to his informal look. I go back and forth in my head trying to decide which version of him throws me more now—this, or the suits. Then I marvel at the thought that I've seen him enough lately to think suits on him could feel like a possible norm. We sip our tea until our no-nonsense waitress appears with our food. She presents the tray, carefully labeling each item. She's sure to let us know she can get us a take-out box, if we need one.
Collin leans toward me and whispers conspiratorially, "She doesn't think we can finish this."
I lean in too, and whisper, "Challenge accepted."
I take my first bite. "Mmm…so good. You have to try this one." I point down to the roll I just consumed a piece from. Collin reaches over with his chopsticks and snatches a section. He closes his eyes as he chews.
"Yeah, that's good. Now try this." He points to a roll on his side of the tray and I reach over and carefully extract a portion.
Just then, a BoDeans song begins playing over the restaurant sound system. We simultaneously lock eyes and smile. "Remember that concert?"
He leans back in his chair, grinning. "How could I forget? What a crazy night." He looks almost wistful.
I point an accusing chopstick at him. "I was so ticked at you for letting Reba and her little pack of crazies tag along with us."
"I know." He laughs and I can see he's enjoying reminiscing. "Well, as I recall, the night didn't exactly end well for her."
I cover my mouth. "Oh God…that was the night she scratched Victor's BMW, right?"
"She insisted on driving." He smirks. "I honestly thought Victor's head was going to pop off. He got so red in the face." He laughs.
"I remember those veins in his neck just bulging." I make a pulsating motion with my hands and Collin laughs harder. Remembering more of that night, I say, "You caught most of the heat for the accident, though. Didn't you?"
He nods and then rubs his chin, looking thoughtful. "That was expected. I was given the keys, so whatever happened after that was my fault."
He looks like he wants to say more, but I interject before he can. "You don't believe that do you?"
He shrugs.
I exhale long and slow. I'm not going to let this one go. "Collin, you can't be serious. Forgive me for speaking ill of the dead, but Victor was an insane tyrant and that accident was one hundred percent Reba's fault."
"True and true, but I knew the moment the first fleck of paint scraped off his car, that I was going to be the one he came down on. The blame would be all mine." He leans in toward me. "Besides, Reba couldn't have handled it if he'd gone after her."
"Maybe so, but that doesn't make it OK. You shouldn't have had to go through that." I cringe recalling Victor ranting and raving trying to humiliate Collin in front of all of us, and I know that wasn't even the half of it. I stayed the night and I remember hearing Victor start in on him again, when he thought everyone else was sleeping. I'm pretty sure it got physical, and Collin just took it, even though he could've easily crushed Victor. All these years later, it still makes me ill.
He splays one hand out on the table and gazes at it before looking up at me. "Victor was all Reba had left. James was long gone from the house by then. I didn't want him to yell at her. He was her dad, I mean, can you imagine? At the end of the day I could separate. Victor was just some guy to me. I could handle it." He drums his fingers on the table. "So I did." He sighs and I detect the slightest bit of nervousness in it. "Reba and I worked some things out between the two of us later. She paid for most of it. When we got older we handled things behind the scenes, whenever we needed to."
I lean back in my chair. "I didn't know that."
He nods very slightly and then takes another bite of sushi, staring at me. This revelation makes me like Reba more, but I'll never change my mind about how I felt watching Collin be terrorized by his stepdad, no matter how much he claims he could handle it.
"The thing that gets me, though." He briefly places his hand to his chest and then removes it as he glances up at me. "All the shit I tried to protect her from with Victor…all the abuse…she just went out and found it in boyfriends. It used to make me absolutely crazy until I realized that we all do it in some way."
"Do what?"
"Accept the shit we think we deserve. Reba's a survivor who doesn't know she's survived. She hasn't figured out yet how not be a victim."
I nervously pick up my water glass, but I don't drink. I don't know what to say back to this.
"Don't misunderstand me. I don't blame her for anything, not even for a nano
second. These dicks she goes out with—the shit they pull; that's on them. None of it is her fault. I just wish so much she could see that."
Collin is so earnest that I suddenly feel bad for every time I was ever annoyed with Reba. I feel terrible thinking about her with asshole guys.
"I do, too," I say quietly, maybe too quietly, he doesn't seem to hear me.
He makes a disgusted noise. "And James? Don't even get me started. I wouldn't know where to begin to help him. Victor never went after him, not the way he did with me, and somehow the easier everyone went on him, the more he just slipped away. I haven't heard from him in forever. Sometimes I think I'll just never see him again. Maybe that's what he wants, ya' know? To disappear."
Collin looks down at the table thoughtfully. This might be the most he's ever discussed his stepsiblings and for some reason his passion about helping them takes me by surprise. It shouldn't though; this is who Collin is…this is who he's always been. It takes everything I have right now to stay in my chair and not to jump up and fling my arms around him. I grip the armrest with my hand, literally holding myself back.
"I'm so sorry, Collin. I'm sorry for all of it, but you've got to know it wasn't your job to save James or Reba. You were just a kid, like them."
He returns my comment with full-on eye contact that causes my face to flush. A wry smile forms on his lips. "Have you been eavesdropping at therapist offices again?"
I shake my head at him. Always Mr. Deflection. "It just kills me to think about you taking all this shit on as a kid." I could go on and on about all the other injustices I witnessed, or was somehow privy to, and that's just the college stuff. Collin had it rougher than just about anyone I've ever known, and I have no doubt there is a multitude of hidden stories I'll never hear. What shocks me now, is to find out how responsible he felt to protect his siblings, who, in just about every measurable way, had it better than him.
I must look distraught because he adds, "I'm just joking. I hear what you're saying, but it's OK." He looks away, a very serious expression on his face, but then after a moment all of the tension seems to fade from him, and he smiles cautiously at me. I can see he wants to lighten the mood. He's more open now than I've ever known him to be, but this is classic Collin. Personal disclosure time has ended and I know better than to push. There's so much more I want to hear, or even to say, if I could find the right words, but I play along and paddle my way out of the deep end.
"Well, that night was full of happenings. Do you remember that friend of Reba's who just started sobbing out of nowhere? She was crazy." Collin takes another bite and looks confused. "You seriously don't know who I'm talking about? She had like nothing to drink at the concert, but she was hanging on everyone, as though she was totally wasted. She said ‘like' every other word and was wearing ridiculously high stripper heels." I take another bite of sushi and then raise my eyebrows at him. "She was pretty into you, as I recall." He remains impassive. How can he not remember this? "C'mon, she was really tall and had her hair all done up." I motion around my own hair. "Before we made it to the diner she was pretending to be passed out on you in the car." Collin takes a sip of his drink, looks around, and then finally breaks, releasing a guilty look.
"Ew! Collin!" I ball up a napkin and toss it at him. "Yuck! That floozy? Please tell me you didn't!" I exclaim.
He was clearly faking the guilt, because after he takes one look at my outraged expression, he starts to laugh. "Go easy on me, woman. I was what, like, twenty years old?"
"How did I not know that happened until now?" I demand.
He raises his eyebrows and looks away. "I guess I wasn't aware you wanted a play-by-play the next day."
I shoot him an exaggerated look of disgust. Just then the waitress passes by our table, and upon examining my expression, her face fills with worry. I give her a little smile and she returns it, nervously scurrying away. Then I lower my voice. "Yuck! Trust me, I didn't. I don't want one now either." I try and fail to keep a straight face, but I just start laughing, and he's laughing too, and it feels so good.
"Laugh it up, Rachel. I wasn't the only one who had regrettable hook-ups."
Oh, God. Who is he gonna pull out of the archives? Collin forgets nothing.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. I was only courted by respectable young gentlemen." He chokes on his water. And in spite of my best efforts to control it, I start giggling again.
"So, is it respectable to wear a ball cap twenty-four hours a day and talk almost exclusively in sports metaphors?"
I cover my face. "Oh, my God, he was a tool, wasn't he? What was his name, anyway?" I stare up at the ceiling, trying to remember.
"Chad. And you said it, not me." He examines my face, sips his water, and then says, "It's OK. We were young."
"Does that mean we're old now?"
"Well, I spent fifteen minutes this morning examining my property tax bill, so I think that's a ‘yes' for me."
"Shit. When did we grow up?" I shake my head.
He just smiles.
"So, um, can I ask you something?"
His smile drops immediately. "Anything," he says with a serious and resolute tone.
I swallow and take a deep breath. "Why were there so many girls, before, you know, in college?" He sets his chopsticks down and lets out a quiet sigh, pushing himself back from the table slightly. I'm instantly filled with regret. "I'm sorry, Collin—you don't have to…I shouldn't have asked."
Years ago, I used to think I knew the answer to this question, but I realize the arrogance in all of that now. I want to hear his words, see things from his view, but not at the cost of upsetting him. The last thing he needs is more judgment.
Collin shakes his head. "No, it's fine. I said ‘anything' and I mean that. Any question is fine. It's just a little hard to explain." He runs his fingers through his hair and looks away before returning his eyes to mine. "Before I answer, I feel like you should know things may have been a little blow out of proportion back then. Yes, I hooked up a lot, but I wasn't sleeping with everyone. I know that probably doesn't make it any better…" His voice trails off and he exhales audibly. I apologize again and this time he rolls his eyes at me. "Stop it. It's OK. I'm just trying to think of the right way to explain this."
He gives me a reassuring smile that I struggle to believe. I sip my drink nervously, waiting for him to speak, and hating myself for asking him this. The thing is, when you really boil it all down, Collin's behavior hardly made him an outlier. Having lots of hook-ups was normal for both men and women around that age. I know that now, and frankly, I knew it then, too. What truly bothered me about his behavior was it never added up with the rest of him. Here was this guy who was so content to be alone, who was introverted in so many ways, acting like this anytime he had a few beers in him. It was the duplicity that alarmed me.
After a long moment, he finally speaks. "I felt like shit about ninety percent of the time in those days. All the hooking up and sex—it was a way to feel better, or to feel anything other than what I was feeling. I know it's no excuse for being such a drunken a-hole, but it's true. It was like a high. But the thing was, whatever good I felt? It never lasted. It wasn't real."
"Maybe it could've been. If you'd given one of those girls a chance," I say as quietly and as carefully as I can manage.
He freezes when I say this, and I feel him examining me. I know the inquiry, without hearing the question. Am I talking about us? I ponder it, too. Am I? Although I was the one who didn't give it a chance. Not him.
A moment passes and then he shrugs. "Maybe. I don't know. It's tough to answer that now. I was not in the right place to be in any sort of relationship then, anyway." He looks at me earnestly and I think about what he isn't saying more than what he has.
"Anyway, I want you to know…" He pauses again and I feel my heart inexplicably begin to pound. "I never coerced any woman to do anything beyond what she wanted or was comfortable doing. I wasn't—I would never..."
; I see him struggling and I interject. "I know, Collin. I never thought you did." I reach my hand across the table, nearly touching his. He glances at it and I quickly retract it to my lap. "Geez, if anything, I remember girls being aggressive with you." He shrugs me off, but I know he knows what I mean.
I'm blown away by his bravery to discuss everything so openly. Here I am calling him on the carpet for crap that happened a lifetime ago and he's rising to every question, or near accusation. That's when it hits me. There are two kinds of growing up. There are jobs, and tax bills and all the junk you have to do to be independent in this world, but then there's the real stuff. The soul searching, gut wrenching introspection that makes you really look at what you're doing and why. If you're bold enough and brave enough you can take the seeds from what you've learned—those tiny pieces of yourself you want to be better, and then make it that way. That's when you bloom. Collin's there, and he has been, for a while.
*** *** ***
We're on our walk back and he clutches his stomach. "Ugh. I don't know if I can make it, Rachel. You may have to carry me."
I giggle and nudge him with my elbow. "I can't believe you ate those last rolls."
"Well, someone had to take one for the team. I knew it wasn't going to be you, little miss ‘challenge accepted'!" he air quotes. "You ate like a bird!"
"What?" I shout. This time I shove him. "I ate plenty and I'll have you know that birds actually eat a lot." He smirks at me and I grin back at him.
We stop at the intersection, waiting to cross, and I look up at him. He reaches down and gently moves a strand of hair that the wind has blown in my face, behind my ear. His hand lingers, just barely grazing my chin. I want to touch him back, reciprocate somehow, but the signal changes and all the pedestrians around us start charging across the street, so we do too.
Today he turns right, crossing with me en route to my workplace. We're both quiet on the way there, and I consider the fleeting moment we just shared. He must've felt something, too. When we arrive he walks me into the lobby, and I can't help wondering what the heck is going on. This is a first. It's obvious something is on his mind, but before I can inquire he says, "Would it be Collin overload to see me twice in one day?"