by Gabrielle G.
The surprise on his face tells me he has no clue.
How could he?
He wasn’t around.
He left when I was eight.
He came back for weekends, and then he lived in Miami for years.
We saw each other occasionally.
We’re ten years apart, and all of a sudden, I can see it.
But I can’t blame him either.
Only Barn knows I never felt like I belonged in Springs Falls.
I never really bothered telling anybody; I never thought I would have to.
“When I was six, maybe. But as soon as I had the opportunity, I left. My life is here in New York. With my business. Here.”
“Tell me who our support system is if we need one in the city? You have no friends. I sure don’t have any. If we live in Springs Falls, we have your family and mine. It will be easier if anything happens.”
“Dex and Luke are here enough. Ol is becoming a friend. Meghan at the parlor. And anyway, what do you think is going to happen, Chris? We’re healthy. We aren’t depressed. We’re happy.” My voice cracks under the emotions. Stupid hormones.
“Babe, don’t get mad, I was just telling you what I want. I was speaking with Bella and…”
“Did my mother put you up to this? I’m not capable of being a mother so we should move next to her, and she can raise the peanut.”
“That’s not what she said. She’s just worried we don’t have anybody, and…”
“And she’s there. You know what, why don’t you live with my parents. They love you so much. You’re another of their perfect sons, right? Whatever the fuck I’m doing is never enough. “
“Sal.”
I leave the bedroom, ignoring him and go into the kitchen where I fall into a bag of salt and vinegar chips.
“Chips aren’t the best for you, babe.” Chris comes behind me. Doesn’t he know when to shut up?
“Chris, go to bed.” I continue stuffing my face with chips.
“I’m sorry, I’m just a little worried.”
I ignore him. He pulls on my arm.
“Sal, come back to bed.” He tries one more time.
“I need a little peace, Chris. You have to stop breathing down my neck. You have to stop calling my mother. You have to stop being a Gritt more than I am. Even today, Dr. Hot Fuck called you Mr. Gritt, and you didn’t react one bit. I’m not sure anymore if you’re with me because you love me or because you want to be my parents’ son or Aaron’s brother so much that you’re just using me. I don’t think that’s it, but that’s how I feel. Living in Springs Falls is not an option. Go to bed, let me eat my chips, and I’ll join you afterward.”
“Okay, but so you know, I’m here for you, for us, not for being a Gritt.”
“Noted,” I say, crunching on the last chip. “Now, if you want to make yourself useful, you can get me a Coke and go back to bed, or go to bed.” He gets me a soda and hands it to me.
“Thank you.” I force my smile and shoo him away with my hand.
He walks back to bed like the kicked puppy he can be, and I walk to my computer, fire it up and start to work on the last details for the event, waiting for Chris to fall asleep before joining him in bed. When I finally do, late into the night, it takes me a long time to fall asleep, alone and mad on my side of the bed. Tossing and turning, I give up being mad at him so the peanut can have some rest. I come closer, gently, like you would approach an animal. He’s on his back, sleeping peacefully. I advance an inch closer, trying not to wake him up. Another inch, and step by step, I find my place against him and close my eyes.
“Finally,” he grumbles, coming on his side to spoon me and drags me into him, his hand on my belly. “You’re so fucking stubborn.” He kisses my neck. “I said I was sorry. If you want to raise our kid in the city, I’ll make it work, but I want to move. I can’t stay here where I came after he died. I need space, I need a house, I need something else.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“And I want a house upstate for when we spend long weekends or Christmas there. We aren’t staying with your parents or at mine.”
“Deal.”
“And next time you say I’m with you because I want to be a Gritt, I’ll force you to marry me, take my name and make our kid be a Harbor. Got it?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too. Now sleep, because if you want me to let you work your ass off, you’d better be rested,” he mumbles in my hair while his nose caresses my neck.
“I love you,” I mutter, feeling sleep taking over. “Can we play Dr. Hot Fuck tomorrow?”
“You bet,” he says, kissing my shoulder. “You bet…”
27
Salomé
“Hey, Ol,” I greet Oliver pushing the door of his bar. Absinthe is a beautiful place, where local bands and sometimes international groups like to hang out in the city.
“Hey, Sal, thank you for coming in. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your office again, I just don’t feel comfortable leaving my new barmaid alone. She started yesterday,” he says, looking at the stunning woman behind the bar.
“Don’t drool over your staff, Ol. I can hear Dex speaking about harassment and lawsuits.” I tease.
“Happily married, but if she’s in for a threesome…” He winks at me.
“You’re a pig. I don’t think she will ever go for a threesome with you and Tessa… Not her type.” He blinks at me and lifts the corner of his mouth.
“Is that an indecent proposal, Baby Cakes?”
“You’re such a horn dog. And what makes you believe calling me Baby Cakes, like my brother and brother-in-law, is going to turn me on?” I furrow. Oliver winces.
“Just kidding.” He smiles. “But I need to get laid. Tessa has been away too long. Back to work. What are we missing for the party?”
“RSVPs. Seriously, do Hollywood people ever RSVP to parties. Too cool for that?”
“No fucking clue. It’s as much a blessing as a curse to be Dan Darling’s brother-in-law.” He laughs.
“Hey, boss, want to drink something?” The new barmaid interrupts us. She wears black eyeliner and red lipstick, her face is adorned with piercings on her lips, eyebrows, and nose, and her black hair frames her angelic face. She has a big ass tattoo on her arm, and I can see another one peeking out on the back of her shoulder.
“Lee, this is Salomé, the event planner for the party I told you about. Sal, Lee will work the bar with me at the event.” I raise an eyebrow, trying to convey that it’s not his best idea. Oliver winks at me.
“Want something to drink?”
“Make me anything virgin, and I’m fine. Thanks.”
“And I’ll have a beer please, Lee,” he tells her as if he was pouring honey in his tea.
“Got it, boss.” She nods, before turning on her heel.
“Shit, I really need to…”
“Get laid, yeah…” I chuckle. “So, we have twenty-five people who still need to answer. Most are friends of the Devils. Maybe I can try Dex. He might know them and harass them because I can only speak to PAs, and those assholes are annoying, never answering any of my emails or calls.”
“Look, twenty-five people won’t make a difference. Let’s plan as if they’re coming.”
“Already did. The press is asking who will be there, but we’ll manage, just the names of Ian Porter, the Darling Devils, Ryan Marley, and Luke Gritt should help. As for the food, I thought everything not eaten could be given to a local shelter. That’s also great publicity for the band.”
“Perfect. Why are we meeting then?”
“Because we need to discuss staff, décor, security, and food. Every time I ask any of the Darlings, they tell me to deal directly with you. Do they really want this party, or they just don’t give a shit?” A loud noise comes from behind the bar, and Oliver springs into action to go help Lee.
“I’m sorry, don’t fire me. I just… Did you say Luke Gritt? Like the tattoo artist, Luke Gritt?” she asks Oliv
er. I raise my eyebrow. If she were a dude, I would be much more uncomfortable, but there is no way my brother fucked her. I clear my throat.
“What did my brother do?”
“Oh my God,” she hides her face in her hands, “you’re Salomé Gritt?” I wrack my brain to try and find out who she could be, but nothing comes up.
“I am. Do I know you?”
“No, I just heard your name before. I’m just a big fan of your brother’s work,” she says, blushing. I smile.
“Luke has fans?” I laugh. “Like you hear that movie stars and rock stars are going to be at the party, and you fangirl over a tattoo artist?”
She picks up the glass on the floor, and I glance over at Oliver, who’s as amused as I am.
“In my world, he’s a big deal. I mean, I used to be a model for an alternative lifestyle magazine, and he’s one of the best in the country right now. It’s just someone I admire a lot.”
“What time are you done here? I know he’s in town for an appointment today, we could go to the parlor, and I could introduce you?”
“Oh no,” she squeals. “I couldn’t… I mean, wow.”
“Thank God, it’s Luke, I was afraid you’d slept with Barnabas for a second. Seriously, come to the parlor. He won’t mind, and he might even blush under his big beard. So you’ll help me embarrass him a lot, and that’s something I can’t pass up as his little sister. Give me your phone; I’ll put my number in it and text myself, so I get yours. Deal?” She hands me her phone and smiles.
Later that night, Chris and I are on the couch, watching a movie on Netflix when my phone chimes.
“Fucking again?” he grumbles. “If it’s Oliver, I will drive to Absinthe and make him eat his fucking phone.” Nuzzling my head on his shoulder, I reach for my phone and smile when I see Lee reached out. We had a good conversation, once I was done talking business with Oliver, and the fact that she knew everything there is to know about Luke, entertained me for a good part of the day. I kept asking her random facts while she was serving drinks and texting Dex for answers to be sure she knew her shit. And man did she know her shit about his career. Where he started his career, how he arrived in New York, when did he open his first parlor, who was his mentor, how many shops he owns, his partnership with Ryan, what tattoo he inked on which celebrity, what he refuses to tat. I learned a lot of things about my own brother. She’s a real fan.
I’m not working tomorrow. Do you want to have breakfast?
“Who the fuck is Lee, and why is he asking to have breakfast with you?” Chris asks, peeking at my screen.
“She is the new barmaid at Ol’s, and she’s a fan of Luke. We just spent all afternoon chatting about him, and I told her I would introduce her when she’s ready. She was blushing so much, it was cute. She’s super cool, beautiful even.”
“And of course, you told her you had a boyfriend, right?” He screws up his face.
“It didn’t come up. Wait, are you jealous?”
“I’m not.” He pouts.
“You so are, Chris.”
“I’m not jealous, okay?” He mopes.
“You are…” I straddle his lap. “You really think after being in love with you for so long, I’d jump in bed with the first hottie I meet? Are you that insecure about us?” I tease, grinding on him.
“I’ve never been jealous in my life, Sal.”
“Bullshit.” I laugh. “You were always jealous of the people I was with.”
“You were dating assholes!”
“Not all, Calvin was nice.”
“Don’t fucking say his name,” he growls. I laugh a little more.
“So now what? You’re going to be jealous of every person I talk to?”
“I’m not jealous.” He pushes his hips for me to feel his hard cock. “I just don’t like you being around people I don’t know. Who says this girl is not trying to harm you or the baby?”
“Who says she’s not an alien trying to kidnap me. I mean, you’re right, just let me erase her number because maybe she’s in a cult or some shit and she will steal the baby, or eat it. Oh my God, Chris, you’re right, I think I’m in mortal danger.” I kiss his clenched jaw.
“You’re not funny when you don’t take me seriously,” he grumbles, lifting me off his lap and putting me on the sofa before getting up and walking toward the bedroom. I respond to Lee that I will have breakfast with her, send a text to Luke to ask him if he’s around tomorrow to have breakfast with me and a fan of his, turn off the TV and lights and join Chris in the bedroom.
Coming in, he’s reading the newspaper in bed, hiding his face, and I can feel he’s still upset at me for mocking him.
“Are you mad?” I sing, jumping on the bed.
“No. I fluffed your pillow,” he says without looking at me.
“So because you fluffed my pillow, that means you’re not mad?” I nudge him in the ribs.
“That’s what I said,” he continues ignoring me. I try hard not to laugh at him, but he's cutely unreasonable for a man of his age. I bite my lip, muffling my laugh.
“Come on, honey. I’m sorry, don’t be mad…” I take the newspaper from his hand and throw it away. “I’m sorry.”
“No need to be sorry, I fluffed your pillow.” He tried to keep his serious face but lifts the corners of his mouth. I kiss him softly.
“I’m still sorry I made fun of you. Want to come to breakfast with Luke, Dex, Lee and I tomorrow? Would you forgive me?”
“I’ll forgive you if I can fuck you from behind right now.” He wriggles his eyebrows.
“So after fluffing my pillow, you want to fluff my carpet?” We burst out laughing.
“Shit, that’s bad.” His mouth finds mine, and he nibbles my lips angrily. “So bad I think I need to fuck you to punish you.” His hands find my breasts and caress the outline of my bra. I open my mouth and find his tongue ready to devour me.
“I want you so much,” I say at the same time my phone chimes.
“Don’t you dare touch it, Sal. I will spank you,” he growls while his fingers find my sore nipples.
“And you think that’s a threat. You’re cute.”
I jump off his lap and reach for my phone.
He tries to stop me by pulling on my calf, but it’s more an affectionate gesture than a real hold, and I wrestle out of his hand and get my phone.
“Who is it now? Dex? Luke? Oliver? Lee?” he mocks. I frown, looking at the screen.
“No, it’s Cassandra.”
“Jordan’s mother?” I nod.
Chris’ face pales.
All of a sudden, it feels like a ghost is between us.
Chris closes up and guilt spreads through me again.
“What does she want?” he finally utters, shaking himself out of the fog the thought of Jordan put him in.
I unlock my screen to see what the message says.
“It seems a brown envelope arrived with letters in it. She says there is one for you, one for me and one for them. She’s asking if we want her to send them or what she should do with them,” I tell him, rubbing my tattoo.
If there was one thing I wasn’t expecting after three months, it was a letter from his dead fiancé to show up.
“I don’t understand,” he says, tugging on his hair. “I… I don’t get it…”
I bring my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs.
I have no idea what to do.
I don’t want to hear about Jordan, but I do want to know why he jumped off that bridge.
Chris and I had kind of found peace, or so I thought until now.
Seeing his reaction, I’m not sure what to do and how to deal with this new piece of information.
“Why now?” Chris gets up and starts pacing the room.
“I don’t know, Chris.” Tears fill my eyes. I shouldn’t have looked at my phone; I should have let him fuck me. It could have waited until tomorrow.
“So it means he planned it that way?” he continues pacing back and forth
.
“I don’t know,” I repeat, rocking myself on the bed.
“Do you think he knew? I mean, about us? Do you think he could feel we would end up together, and that’s why he killed himself?”
That’s THE question; the guilt that ate me alive the first two months after his death, until I decided that you don’t kill yourself only for this, you don’t choose to end your life because you think your future husband desires someone else.
You decide to commit suicide because there is something deeper inside you that makes your life unbearable to live.
“I don’t think so, Chris. If we hadn’t found ourselves in grief, we might have never ended up together. I mean, come on, I never made a move on you, and you were never interested. I don’t think he died because of us.”
“But you don’t know that, Sal! He froze you out, he was afraid I would cheat on him with you. He did everything he could for us not to be in the same room, and the moment he dies, what do we do? We get together? Seriously, it’s like you waited for him to die to jump on me, and then a baby. Fuck, we’re horrible. I’m horrible, and you’re no better. Fuck!” He pulls on his hair, and gets dressed quickly.
“Chris, what are you doing?” I ask, crying.
“I can’t stay here; I can’t be here with you. I… I’ll call you,” he says before taking his wallet and his keys in his hand and disappearing from the apartment.
It all went so fast, I didn’t even have time to jump on my feet and chase him.
As soon as I come back to my senses, I run after him, but he’s long gone.
I call him on his cell, but it’s as lost as telling someone you love them in the night.
Once again, I’m the one dancing on my own.
Once again, Chris broke my heart, choosing Jordan over me, and once again, I’m left crying in bed. Except this time, I’m not the only one he walked out on.
He left me, and his baby-to-be behind, and I’m not sure I can forgive him.