Bitch.
When she left, Shanna was busy filling orders in the back, so I tended to the register. When there weren’t any customers, I righted displays and watched the fire trucks as they pulled in and out, sirens and lights blazing and then silent upon their return.
Brooke stopped by and said she’d just stopped by the firehouse, and was now on her way to get Amelia from school but wanted to check on me. “What happened last night? I thought you guys went out?”
My head throbbed just thinking about it. “Yeah, first Ridley stopped by, and then my mom called. I didn’t tell him right away, so he was pissed.”
“It’s just like him to be like that.” Brooke laughed, a light chuckle. “He doesn’t like to not know things.”
That I knew. From the time I’d met Jace until now, I knew that. As did Brooke.
“Do you and Logan ever fight?” I asked with an exasperated sigh. There’s nothing worse than thinking you’re alone, and right then, I felt like the only person with problems.
Why is it that you feel slightly better when you know someone else has, or is, going through what you are?
“Yeah.” Brooke shrugged, the motion endearing, as if she didn’t like to discuss their problems, if they had any. “Not heated arguments, but we don’t always get along. We fight just like every other couple out there.”
It was hard to imagine that they did, but again, to say people never fight is unrealistic in terms of what life really is. No one has the perfect relationship, and no one is perfect themselves. We lie, cheat, steal, beg, sin, whatever you want to call our fault, we all have them. They just present themselves in different ways.
Now look at me — was I trying to convince myself that nobody was perfect to make my own life seem better?
Maybe a little.
Before Jace, I had never felt that kind of fire or love. Never. I often wondered if it even existed and, more so, if I would ever find it.
Before Jace, my experience had only been Ridley.
Jace was the more experienced of the two of us, having been in a couple of relationships. Both ended badly.
That got me thinking — would that be us eventually?
Look at me. I’ve completely lost myself.
“Did any of the night go okay?” Brooke asked, taking me from those thoughts and throwing me into a whole new set.
Flashes of that night came back. The way he undressed me with his eyes at dinner. The subtle touches at dinner, and the way he took what he wanted in his truck.
I also thought about his glare when my mom called, how quickly his mood changed, and the emptiness between us that night.
When Brooke was in the shop, she couldn’t help but assist us. Creative by nature, she designed most of our flyers and special order forms. Picture rustic primitive designs with dark browns, reds, creams, and blues. We had a little bit of a country American theme.
As I watched her, I wondered if she ever felt like this. So lost. “Do you ever wake up and wonder how your life got like this?”
Brooke looked at me, her perfect button nose wrinkled at the bridge. “No.”
Sometimes it was hard to talk to Brook about this crap. I knew she understood to an extent and did her best to empathize with me, but she really didn’t understand.
Logan could be a foul-mouthed wise-cracking guy at the station, but he wasn’t like that around Brooke for the most part.
“I know you think my life is perfect, and I don’t understand why.” Brooke gave me a side-eyed glance.
Okay.
Apparently she’s as perceptive as Jace. “I haven’t . . . let’s just say I’m more of the type of person who looks for the silver lining.”
I laughed. “We saw that movie last night.”
Shanna walked up front from the back room as a giggle escaped Brooke, her hand covering her mouth to capture it. “I know. The guys were giving Jace crap about it.”
“Wasn’t his choice.” Moving from the round table display in the center of our large shop, I added, “I tried to get him to see Breaking Dawn with me, but he said no.”
“I wanted Rusty to see that tomorrow, but he said no, too.” Shanna pushed herself up on the counter, a package of scented pine cones in her hands. Lifting them to her nose, she took in a deep breath.
“These were an accident and would probably catch your home on fire, but they smell amazing.”
“Why would they catch on fire?” Brooke leaned forward and smelled the pine cones.
“When I made them, I spilled acetone on them.”
“So?” As I said, I was no master at making candles or scented pine cones. I wouldn’t know if they were flammable or not.
“It’s flammable.” Shanna blinked slowly, as if I should know this.
“Sell them to a firefighter,” Brooke said. “I know a few.”
“Was that really your mother?” Shanna asked, setting the flammable pine cones behind the counter so they wouldn’t be accidentally sold. “You’re attracting all kinds of visitors these days.”
Brooke took them back. “I’m going to need those. They smell amazing.”
“Yes . . . that was my mom.” The reminder got me thinking about her, so I sent a text to Jace. God forbid I not tell him. He acted like I wasn’t going to tell him, but in reality, he’s not the most approachable kind of guy.
My mom’s in town. She wants Lauren and me to go to dinner with her.
Nice. That was his immediate response. And nothing else.
I always hated his text responses and usually read too much into them. To be fair, “nice” could be taken many different ways. After last night, I was taking it one way.
Annoyance.
I showed the girls and they sighed, knowing him and his reactions.
Right about the time we were getting ready to do a little work, Lauren stopped by and sidetracked us all. “All my bitches in one room!”
We laughed when she bumped into the door and knocked it into the display next to her.
Judie had graciously let Gavin spend the night with her and my little brats last night. Gavin couldn’t rely on either set of his maternal grandparents but the Ryan’s had taken on him, and my sister, like they were part of the family.
“So how was Hamilton Viewpoint?”
My eyes just about popped out of my head. I hadn’t told Lauren or anyone else about what Jace and did the night before. “How’d you know about that?”
Her phone was shoved in my face. “Your boy texted me. Oh, and by the way, he has your kids now, so don’t go looking for them.”
Actually, Judie had called and told me Jace picked them up, so I did know that.
Most of Jace’s and Lauren’s text messages were dumb and made no sense to anyone but them, with teasing and crude remarks back and forth.
Did you treat my sister like a lady last night?
He replied with, Fucked her in my truck at Hamilton Viewpoint. Lady enough for you? Probably, huh?
Dick.
“Oh, my God, Lauren, he texted that to you?” I knew those two got a little crazy with their texting, but sheesh, talk about crude.
“Yep.”
I heard Brooke gasp beside me and Shanna laugh.
My eyes caught their last text messages after Lauren’s “dick” text.
Axe has your panties in his locker. Classy, Lauren. Real classy.
And then another one right after that. Lauren, he’s dirty. I’d go to Planned Parenthood. TODAY.
“You were with Axe last night?” Again, there went my eye sockets.
“I wouldn’t say that I was with him. But he has my panties.”
“Why did he take your underwear?” Shanna was trying to keep up with the conversation and asking random questions ever so often, like now.
“It’s a long story, but we went out to a club. He had my underwear in the pocket of his jeans. I forgot about them.”
“I don’t know about you,” Shanna added, “but I always remember when I’m not wearing underwear.�
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“Me, too.” Brooke’s creamy cheeks flushed at her comment. “You always know.”
“Since when has your goodie-two-shoes ass been without panties, aside from the shower?” Lauren demanded.
“Good girls never tell . . . ” She used that line a lot. We all knew Brooke was slightly reserved and rarely swore, but I knew for sure that she had a naughty side. There’s no way she could be married to a guy like Logan and not be a little dirty. Secretly.
Like most of the boys on Ladder 1, he was just as foul-mouthed and crude when it came to sexual innuendos. He joined in on the vulgar details. I knew that much.
Unfortunately, I had overheard them a time or two.
“Back to you . . . ” Brooke’s face was all sorts of colors now. “Why did he have your underwear?”
“That’s not exactly important, either.”
“Yes, it is!” Shanna, Brooke, and I said together.
Lauren went on to explain that they were dancing. She took them off while she was dancing and he put them in his pocket, and when he dropped her off, she forgot to get them back.
“Why did you take them off, though?”
“I thought it would be sexy.”
“What? Wearing no panties?” Shanna’s eyes were huge. For those who knew my sister, this really wasn’t that surprising, but I think the fact that she was doing this with Axe was what was so . . . unbelievable about it.
“Yes . . . No . . . ” Lauren was starting to stutter. “I mean, if we were going to fuck in the club or something, I—”
“Stop talking to Shanna.” My advice to my little sister went unheard. Her laughter was all she had left when Shanna flipped me off.
“Whatever, Aubrey. You rode your boy in his truck in the middle of a public park. You have no room to talk.” Shanna turned to Lauren, her hands on her shoulders. “Honey, you know Axe has dipped in dirtier places than a night club. He got it on behind the station in the alley before. Be careful.”
“Ew, Lauren. Jace was right. Go to Planned Parenthood.”
“Oh stop.” She waved her hand around and sat on Brooke’s lap in the chair behind the counter, both of them smiling. Both for different reasons. “We didn’t actually have sex.”
“But you said your panties were off.” Brooke looked at her funny.
All of us seemed to live through my twenty-five-year-old sister’s single-life meaningless sexual encounters these days.
Pathetic.
“Yes, my panties were off, but the only straws in my juice box were toothpicks.”
Oh, my God. My sister has lost it.
“Juice box?” Brooke mouthed to me.
“Toothpicks?” I mouthed back.
Between our laughter and Lauren’s loud mouth, we had no customers and even less dignity by the end of that conversation. But we had our panties. Which was more than I could say for Lauren.
This wasn’t the first time the three of us had given Lauren shit. She asked for it most of the time, between Gavin’s greasy dad and now Axe. It was apparent she was attracted to hoodlums.
Axe wasn’t exactly the guy I would pick off the line. Married, widowed, girlfriend, long story, and now he’s taking the hero-guy copout and using his hose to put out the heat between the legs of most girls between eighteen and thirty. My sister included.
This, right now in the shop, I lived for moments like this, surrounded by my friends. It was like our own ventilation process.
I’ve often heard Jace talk about fires and how they can manipulate a fire and gain control of it by using what they call technical ventilation. Taking away the air directed at the fire.
Command to dispatch, be advised, we’re working outside defense mode now. Heavy smoke and fully involved fifth and sixth floors.
* * *
Friday, November 16, 2012
Aubrey
WHEN I got home from work Friday night, all I wanted to do was relax, like most people. The problem with that?
I have children.
As I walked through the door, I knew for sure my relaxation was not happening tonight. It looked like an F5 tornado had ripped through Toys R Us and tossed its debris in my living room. The kitchen was a disaster too. Milk was spilled on the counter, no doubt thanks to Jace. He couldn’t pour anything without spilling it.
And speaking of Jace, he was sleeping on the floor. Honestly, I wanted to turn around and walk out. Maybe they wouldn’t notice if I didn’t come home for another few hours.
A quick assessment of the kids. I found Gracie in the kitchen, the sink full of water, most of it on the counter — with bubbles — as she washed her Barbies in there.
I found Jayden in our closet, playing with my shoes. He had a hair of high heels on and was working on putting socks over them. He’d be there a while.
“What the fuck?” I kicked Jace in the stomach as I walked by him with an armful of towels to clean up the mess Gracie had made in the kitchen.
Gracie glared over her shoulder, black ringlet curls sticking to her soaked shirt. “Mommy, watch your language.”
“You’re home?” Jace sat straight up, then rubbed his eyes and stomach.
“No, I’m not home. You’re dreaming, and I would clean this up if I were you, because when the real Aubrey gets home” —I sucked in a breath between my teeth— “she’s gonna be pissed.”
Jace blew it off, just as I thought he would, and attempted to put a couple of toys away before the television caught his attention again.
Everywhere I looked there were toys, laundry, dishes, and a bag of McDonalds. Clearly he hadn’t fed them.
Figured. Jace never cooked, and frankly, I didn’t want him to. He once made chicken nuggets for Gracie and caught the stove on fire.
Just once I’d like to come home and have Jace actually do something around here. Yeah, I get it. He works, too, but on his days off, what’s the harm in actually helping out? Would it kill him to do the dishes?
He might break every dish we had, but hell, at this point, I’d forgive him for making the goddamn effort.
By the time I’d finished cleaning up, and gotten the kids bathed and ready for bed, Jace was in the living room with Logan and Axe, drinking beers on their night off.
I didn’t even say anything to them, and fell asleep on the floor in Jayden’s room after reading him a story.
And Jace wondered why I got upset all the time lately. He thought I should be happy that he was home, which I was, but when he was home, it was just more work.
The point of all this?
I felt like a single mom most of the time.
Now you see why I felt like we were growing apart?
Shouldn’t he have seen what was happening?
For an intuitive and incredibly observant person, he was rather oblivious to what was happening to us.
I woke up freezing and I should have stayed there, because freezing was better than hearing Jace snore and having him move his feet constantly. Subconsciously I think we were trying to annoy each other. He was doing it, and I was waiting for him to so I could wake him up.
I’ve never understood movies where the couple sleeps right on top of each other all night in a loving embrace. Fuck that. I need my space. And I hate noises at night. And movement. Both of which Jace does all night long.
“Just stop moving your feet.” I kicked him to the point of injury.
“What?” he snorted as if he was doing nothing wrong. “What’s your problem?”
“You. You’re my problem, with your overactive feet.”
“You’re impossible,” he groaned, trying to cover his head with his pillow and then pulling the blankets toward him.
“I’m impossible? Why can’t you just lie here and sleep? You’re the impossible one. And annoying.”
“Am not.” He rolled over, taking the blankets with him.
“Are, too.”
I totally understood people who slept in separate bedrooms now. I got the best sleep when he was at the station. Only becaus
e he wasn’t in bed next to me, snoring.
I kicked him in the shin, hoping he’d wake up and stop the horrid noises.
He woke up all right. “What was that? Fuck” —he grabbed his calf— “my leg hurts.”
“Maybe it’s a charlie horse.”
He rolled over, only this time he was facing me. Completely backfired. Now he was not only snoring but breathing on my neck, too.
How could he sleep with those noises emanating from him?
I lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to think of all the ways I could make him stop breathing just so I could get some sleep. Nothing came to mind, short of suffocation. That was kind of permanent.
I tossed around, pretty violently, I might add, thinking if I moved enough he would wake up and, better yet, go sleep on the couch so I didn’t have to leave the warm bed.
All that rolling around got me was a trip to the floor when I rolled right off the bed and hurt my shoulder.
That was when I decided to throw a pillow at him. I wasn’t gentle, either. At that point I wanted the feather pillow to break his nose. Then maybe he would stop snoring. “Shut up!”
“What?” His voice was thick from sleep, and a little hoarse. “What happened?”
How this could be the same guy who could wake up in the middle of the night and be at a fire five minutes later was a mystery to me.
By then I was so annoyed that I went and slept on the couch.
Guess what he asked me the next morning?
“Why are you on the couch?”
I stared at him in complete disbelief. He remembers nothing sometimes. Too bad I couldn’t say the same for the other night. Jace still remembered that, all right.
“Has he called you anymore?” Jace asked, sometime after I got the kids up and eating breakfast.
“No.” I kept my eyes on Jayden’s waffle as I cut it into bite-sized portions for him.
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