Chasing the Tide

by A. Meredith Walters

  As he walked toward the door, I noticed the gleam of a gold band on his left ring finger. Geesh, he was a real winner.

  He didn’t acknowledge me. He left, slamming the door behind him. Dania came out a short time later wearing only a cami and her underwear. She was beautiful in a completely natural way. But her good looks were marred by her complete lack of self-esteem. It was hard to think much of someone who clearly didn’t think much of themselves.

  “Did Joe leave already?” she asked, looking around for the middle-aged loser.

  I jerked my thumb toward the front door. “He just left,” I said, finally able to turn the volume down on the television.

  Dania pouted and sank down on the couch beside me, pulling her legs up underneath her. She looked so young sometimes that it was depressing to realize how fast she was forced to grow up.

  “Where’d you find that guy?” I asked, making a face.

  Dania glared at me in warning. “Joe’s nice. He comes into the shop a couple of times a week to pick up orders. He works on the town maintenance crew,” she said. Dania had gotten a job at the car parts store on the far side of Wellston. It was an ideal job for a girl desperate for male attention. Being the only female, she got a lot of it. Her mattress could attest to that.

  “He looks…old. And married,” I said.

  Dania drew herself up defensively. “He’s only thirty-eight. That’s not even really middle aged yet. And his wife’s a bitch. He says he wants to leave her.”

  “What and be with you?” I scoffed. I couldn’t believe it. Dania actually seemed to like the old fogy. But I knew that this was the same as all of her other notches on the bedpost…sex only.

  “Shut up, Ellie. I don’t want to hear your judgy bullshit,” she growled, her face flushing. I knew it was time to backpedal in order to avoid a Dania Blevins meltdown.

  “Forget I said anything,” I placated, holding up my hands.

  Dania rolled her eyes. “Let’s go to Woolly’s. Maybe Stu and the guys are there,” she suggested, getting to her feet, forgetting about Joe. I knew that there would be someone warming her bed sheets later tonight.

  I looked at my friend and felt sad for her. Sad for us both. We were two extremes. Dania was desperate for a connection, so she settled for what she got when she spread her legs.

  And I wanted nothing to do with anyone. I couldn’t stand the thought of being touched and held. Having sex required that I be totally inebriated first.

  We were each looking for something I was pretty sure neither of us would ever find.

  Love.

  Family.

  It was a pipe dream. So we made do…feeling alone. But perhaps that’s all I could expect from life.

  I didn’t deserve anything else.

  **

  I was having a pretty good day.

  So that should have been an immediate sign that everything was about to go to shit.

  My phone rang while I was throwing the ball for Murphy in the yard. Flynn was due home in a few hours, and I was making some pork barbeque in the Crock-pot. I had found that I honestly enjoyed cooking and even if Flynn still made faces when he tried something he wasn’t particularly fond of, he never said anything. And he had stopped spitting it out and refusing to eat it.

  I pulled the phone out of my pocket and looked at the number, my palms instantly sweaty.

  It was Lambert and Associates.

  Crap.

  This was about the receptionist gig. I tried not to delude myself into thinking I would be given the job. Not considering how the interview had gone but I couldn’t help but hope. It was all I had left.

  I had almost no money and no prospects. I had applied for over thirty jobs and nothing had come from any of them.

  I was starting to feel like this job, with the jackass Mr. Lambert, was my last option.

  Last night as we sat on the couch Flynn had asked me bluntly if I needed money. I hated that my financial decencies was becoming a focal point of our relationship.

  “No, I’m fine,” I had blustered, trying not to be offended.

  “You don’t make much at JAC’s. I just thought you’d like some money. It’s okay. I make more than enough to give you some,” Flynn had said as though it were no big deal.

  But to me it was a huge, freaking deal.

  I had been taking care of myself for a long time. I didn’t like feeling as though I couldn’t support myself. I never wanted to be in a position where I depended on anyone for anything.

  Not even Flynn.

  “I don’t want to take your money. I get paid next week, that’ll hold me over,” I had said, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. Flynn’s arm was around my shoulders. I was pressed against his side, yet I felt cold.

  Flynn didn’t say anything else. I was thankful he hadn’t voiced any more of his brutally honest opinions. We had spent the remainder of the evening watching TV, my lack of a real job not addressed again.

  “Hello?” I said.

  “Miss McCallum?” I recognized Wilma’s voice.

  “Yes, this is Ellie McCallum,” I answered.

  “This is Wilma Hindgardner from Lambert and Associates. How are you?” she asked and I wanted to groan. Did we have to play painfully awkward chitchat? Just tell me if I got the damn job already! I didn’t see the point of asking someone how they were doing when you really didn’t give a shit.

  “I’m fine,” I said, not bothering to ask her the same.

  Wilma cleared her throat and thankfully decided to forego small talk and get straight to the point.

  “I’m calling about the receptionist job you applied for. Mr. Lambert and Mr. Weaver were very impressed with you at the second interview,” Wilma began and I almost called bullshit.

  I’m sure they had felt many things about me. Impressed was not one of them.

  “Oh, well that’s nice to hear,” I replied lamely.

  Wilma cleared her throat again. Flynn would have asked her if she needed a drink of water. Sometimes I wished I could get away with being so direct without coming off like a bitch.

  “However, they’ve decided to go with another candidate. I’m sorry and I wish you the best of luck in your employment search,” Wilma said, not sounding sorry in the least. Because what did she care that I was floundering and broke?

  “Oh. Okay,” I said, feeling the ground fall out from underneath me. “ Did the other candidate have more experience? Was it my criminal record? What reason did they have for not hiring me? Because I’d really like to know,” I demanded, not able to curb my temper. And there she was, good ol’ Ellie McCallum, ready and willing to take your balls off.

  “I can’t really discuss their reasons, only that you weren’t chosen,” Wilma responded, sounding flustered.

  “The story of my goddamned life,” I muttered.

  “Excuse me?” Wilma asked.

  I didn’t even bother to say anything else. I promptly hung up the phone and stood there, in the middle of the kitchen, feeling like I was going to implode.

  It was a shitty job. I would have hated working for a douche like Mr. Lambert. Answering phones would have been totally mind numbing.

  Why weren’t any of my efforts to make myself feel better working?

  I threw my phone on the kitchen table, covered my face with my hands and screamed. And it was loud. Top of my lungs, deep from the gut, loud.

  I kicked a chair and it clattered to the floor. Murphy ran into the other room, hiding from my violent outburst.

  I dropped my hands to my side and looked around the kitchen. Flynn’s kitchen. In his house. The one I lived in because he wanted me to be there.

  I was here because of him.

  But suddenly I couldn’t be here anymore.

  I grabbed my keys and all but ran to my car. Then I was driving and not really going anywhere. I drove through a town that used to be my home and now felt like a place that belonged in another life.

  I tried calling Flynn at work, reaching for my lifeline as
I had done so many other times before. But it went straight to his voicemail.

  Because he had a life that was completely separate from me. He had a job. He had something that fulfilled him.

  What did I have?

  Flynn.

  That was it.

  Shit, when had I become one of those women? The type whose entire existence revolved around some guy?

  Even if that guy was the love of my life, I wanted more for myself than just that. I needed it.

  Why was it that after I fought so hard to forge a future, to be someone different, that I was still running in circles with no clear plan?

  At least the old Ellie didn’t hurt. She didn’t feel pain or disappointment. She was numb and disconnected. And right now, with my latest rejection ringing in my ears, that didn’t sound half bad.

  What was wrong with wanting to forget? Just for a little while.

  I pulled my car up in front of Woolly Mammoth’s Bar and Grill. It looked as tired and seedy as ever.

  Was I really going to go in there?

  It was only a drink.

  I wasn’t planning to mainline crack in the toilets.

  One drink and I’d go home.

  I just needed to not feel for a little while. Before I had to face Flynn and admit how fucked I really was.

  I walked inside the dimly lit bar and looked around. It was only four o’clock in the afternoon, so the place was all but dead.

  The after work crowd hadn’t shown up yet. The place smelled the same as I remembered it. Like stale beer and depression.

  I had spent a lot of time in this bar, drinking, getting into fights, acting like a fool. But that didn’t seem so bad right now. At least I hadn’t been hanging onto delusional hopes that I could do something better.

  “What can I get ya?”

  I looked at the unfamiliar bartender and asked for a whiskey sour, my old staple.

  After getting my drink, I hopped up on a stool and stirred it with the tiny cocktail straw.

  “Hey babe, can I buy you a drink?”

  I glanced up at the middle-aged pick up master and glared. “I think I’m covered. Now go away,” I said, my tone a clear warning.

  The guy, clearly a few cards short of a deck, wasn’t getting my very obvious point. He sat down beside me and leaned in close. He smelled like too much cologne used to cover up sweat and swamp ass.

  “You look familiar. Do you come in here a lot?” he asked, angling his face close to mine.

  “If you don’t back the fuck off, I’m going to reach down those too tight pants, grab ahold of your balls, and shove them up your ass.” I bared my teeth.

  “Shit girl, you sure know how to talk dirty,” Mr. Pick-Up Line grinned, his teeth stained from tobacco.

  “I’d listen to her. She’s been known to take out bigger dudes than you, old man,” someone piped up.

  I looked behind my unwelcome admirer and suppressed a groan. It was Shane Nolan. Not my idea of a knight in shining armor.

  “Oh come on. She’s just a cute little thing,” the stupid jackass beside me laughed.

  “Okay, well let’s try this another way,” Shane said. He grabbed the guy by the back of the shirt and hauled him off the stool and shoved him hard.

  “I’m not lookin’ for no trouble,” the middle-aged jerk stuttered.

  “Then get lost,” Shane replied, giving him a menacing smile.

  The guy scampered away, and I almost wished he’d come back. I could tolerate his disgusting advances a hell of a lot more than Shane’s. I had spent years avoiding his overtly sexual come ons. And I wasn’t in the mood to deal with them now.

  I went back to sipping on my drink and ignoring everyone around me. Particularly my former acquaintance.

  “You were right, Reg. Ellie is back. I guess I owe you a twenty,” Shane chuckled, slapping his hand down on the bar.

  “Can’t a girl drink in peace?” I mumbled.

  Shane looked the same. Spiky blond hair overly gelled and styled and a giant loserfied grin that had my palms itching to slap him. Reggie stood off to the side looking as emaciated and bombed out as she had when I had seen her at Darla’s.

  “I never thought I’d see your beautiful face back in these parts,” Shane chuckled, waving the bartender down and ordering a beer. Reggie flanked my other side, patting my arm and giving me a silly, drug addled smile.

  “I had hoped to never have to see your ugly mug again,” I said, returning to my whiskey, finishing it off and waving the bartender down for another.

  “Why all the hostility, Ells? Can’t an old friend just be happy to see you?” he asked and I narrowed my eyes in his direction.

  “You’re not going to leave me be are you?” I asked.

  Shane grinned. “Hell no. It’s been a long time. We have catching up to do! There just aren’t enough hot girls in Wellston since you and Dania have decided to hide away. I’m stuck with Reg and she’s definitely not hot.”

  Reggie didn’t even realize she had been insulted. She continued to pat at my arm. I shoved her hand away and she teetered precariously on the stool. The girl was wasted.

  “When Reggie said she saw you, I couldn’t believe it. Not with the way you blew out of town and never came back,” Shane said, tipping his beer back, some of it dribbling on his chin.

  “Well, you know, Wellston has that certain kind of charm that’s hard to stay away from,” I muttered, thinking that coming into Woolly’s was most likely a very bad idea.

  Reggie snorted. “If I ever left, you sure as hell wouldn’t find me back here,” she said, suddenly lucid.

  “Well why don’t you leave then?” I asked, genuinely curious. I tried to ignore Shane and focus on the girl who had never really been my friend even though I saw her every day.

  I had never talked with Reggie much beyond where the party was or what kind of drugs she had. I didn’t have deep friendships with anyone. And that had been fine. Shane Nolan and Reggie Fisher weren’t the type of people you wanted to share intimate parts of yourself with.

  Reggie rolled her eyes, propping her head up on her hand. “There’s no way my dad would let me go anywhere. He likes to keep his precious little girl right where he can get to me,” she mumbled, I wasn’t entirely sure what she was getting at. I looked at Shane and he just shrugged, obviously not concerned.

  The truth was I didn’t really know anything about either Shane or Reggie. I knew that Shane had grown up living with his grandparents. I never knew where his parents were and I had never bothered to ask.

  Because I hadn’t really cared.

  Even though this was the guy who had taken my virginity he was still a virtual stranger in so many ways. How could I have shared such an important moment with someone I had no intentions of knowing beyond that?

  God, I had been such a messed up kid.

  And Reggie was just as much a screw up as I had ever been. Maybe worse. Her self-loathing had gone to a whole other level. It was common knowledge that aside from chronic substance abuse, Reggie was a cutter with a little bulimia on the side. I had caught sight of her upper legs when we were changing one night to go out. They were covered in scars and jagged cuts.

  I had never asked her about it. I pretended I hadn’t seen anything.

  Because her problems weren’t my business.

  Everyone knew that Reggie’s dad was the pharmacist in town. He worked at the local drug store, which helped cater to our pharmaceutical needs.

  She had grown up in a big house in the nicer part of town. She always had a decent car and great clothes. And she had always acted as though she didn’t care about any of it.

  When I was a teenager, it used to infuriate me that she had so much when I had so little. The grass had seemed so much greener on her side of the fence.

  It was strange that I never wondered why a girl who seemingly had everything chose to hang out with losers like Dania, Shane, and me. Why she took so many drugs and slept with so many guys. If I hadn’t been so complete
ly self-involved I would have questioned what was really wrong with her. Because it was very clear, sitting beside this woman who I had known most of my life, that her story was probably just as sad as mine.

  “Shit, if I had the chance to fuck off, I sure as hell would take it,” Shane said, distracting me from my realizations about Reggie.

  “Oh yeah. And where would you go?” I asked, pretty sure he’d say something lame like Charlestown racetrack where he could play the slots.

  Shane smiled. Not a lascivious, predatory one. It was nice and almost sweet. Huh. That was new.

  “I’d go to Florida. You know, to Disney World or something. I’ve seen pictures and it looks awesome. And it’s warm there. And you can pick oranges right off the trees.”

  I chuckled. “You want to go to Florida for Disney World and oranges?”

  Shane frowned. “Well, it’d be a hell of a lot better than this shit hole,” he replied defensively.

  I had no idea that the people I had hung out with actually dreamed of something else. I thought I had been the only one to think of the world outside of Wellston. Apparently I wasn’t. I just happened to be the only one of our group that had actually made it out.

  And had come back.

  “So what are you doing now? Are you back in your old place?” Shane asked, clearly done talking about his dreams of Disney.

  “Uh no. I’m living with Flynn,” I told him, sucking whiskey through a straw.

  Shane frowned. “Flynn? Do I know him?”

  “Yeah, we went to school with him,” I replied off-handedly.

  Reggie reached over me and smacked Shane on the arm. “Freaky Flynn, Shane! Remember!”

  Shane’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah! I remember him.” He gave me a disbelieving look. “You’re fucking that dude? Seriously?”

  I leveled him with a hard look. “His name is Flynn Hendrick. That’s the only thing you should ever call him,” I said shortly.

  Shane didn’t respond. He returned to drinking his beer, staring at nothing in particular.

  The three of us sat at the bar. People who used to spend time together but never had a thing in common except a penchant for self-destruction.

  “So you’re living with Fre—“ Shane grimaced. “I mean Flynn. And you went to college. So you workin’?” he asked, not as comfortable with the silence as I was.