by Brinda Berry
Josie can be my ally, but she also interferes. When she discovers Harper’s lies, she’ll get all up in arms like she did over Tori. It’s more than I can stand right now. My sister threatened to do Tori physical harm more than once and they weren’t even friends. Josie’s like a gangster that way.
Sometimes the twin thing is just too much. Too stifling. Too invasive.
A knock at my door sends prickles of dread through me. I peer through the peephole, then open the door wide. Dane strolls in with Gunner, a friend from my school days and one I haven’t seen lately. It’d be hard to turn them away.
Dane takes a seat on my sofa and Gunner grabs a barstool.
“What’s going on?” I turn the television volume down.
“Thinking about going fishing. You up for it?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I have too much to do.”
Gunner looks around my apartment. “Nice place.”
“Thanks. You like your new one?” I ask him. “I haven’t seen you much since you moved back.”
“Yeah. It’s taken me a while to get everything set up with the business. I haven’t had time to do anything since I started it. I’ve got a day off.” Gunner’s a guy who works harder than anyone I know with his own landscaping business. When he moved to Arkansas as a teen, I thought I’d seen the last of him.
I’m glad to see him back. A guy can never have too many good friends. My mind wanders to Harper and how I miss her. Is she sitting across the hall alone and thinking about me? But no. I glance at the clock and realize she’s at work.
Dane puts his feet up on the trunk in front of him. “How are you and Harper doing? Have you seen her lately?”
Silence.
This isn’t the type of conversations we usually have. He’s treading on serious ground. “You talked to Josie?”
He doesn’t even pretend. “She mentioned it.”
“She send you over here?” I give him a look. He and my sister should not be joining forces against me.
“Nah. I came on my own. For the fishing.” He glances at Gunner. “Right, Gun?”
“Bullshit.” I smile. It’s fake and hard-as-hell to execute since I haven’t felt anything close to a smile since Harper walked out my door.
Gunner leans back against the bar and stretches his legs to the floor. He’s a tall guy—still built like the star football player he was when I went to school with him. The landscaping business agrees with him. “Women. They make life a helluva lot tougher than it should be.”
Dane nods, as if he has women problems. The only problem he has is running from his feelings for my sister. All other women throw themselves at him. Owning a bar has its advantages and disadvantages. Drunk, lonely women could fall into both categories.
He puts his feet down and leans up with elbows on his knees. “Tori came in last night.”
There’s a reason he’s telling me this. Tori still visits Dastardly’s on a regular basis, so her appearance isn’t news. “Oh yeah?” I ask.
“She said you two might get back together and that Harper is causing both of you problems.” Dane examines his cuticles and picks at one.
“Man. You know that’s a lie.” I take a deep breath.
“Uh huh. Sure. But she’s loud. She said some pretty bad things about what she’d like to do to Harper.” Dane glances up.
“She is insane.” I usually don’t exaggerate or moan and bitch about Tori, but she’s a burr in my side that I’m ready to be rid of. I should’ve tried harder to cut her out. She’s like a festering wound. The thought that she’d hurt Harper makes me want to do her physical harm.
Not that I’d hit a woman. But Tori needs her mouth taped shut.
“She knows Harper is your neighbor.” Dane nods as if he’s telling me something new.
“Yeah. She came by once when Harper was here.”
Gunner picks up a flyer on my bar and studies it. Poor guy is ready to be on with his fishing day.
Dane shakes his head. “I wonder if she’s bothered Harper. Tori asked me fifty questions about her. I didn’t know most of the answers and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell Tori.”
“I don’t think so.” I flash back to Harper telling Tori that she’s my neighbor. “She was asking last night?”
“Um hm.” Dane looks at the door as if he can see through it and across the hall. “Just thought you’d want to know in case she’s harassing Harper.”
“Thanks man.” I’ll make sure Tori stays away from her.
“So. What do you say we go hit the river? The water’s not too low and you need this. Come on. Gun’s here and I need to work on my tan. You’re looking pretty pasty yourself.”
I stare at the windows and think about Harper. If I sit here any longer, I’ll be tempted to go next door and demand we talk through whatever has happened between us and what she wrote on that postcard.
Two nights ago, I picked up the postcard mess and organized them as I always do. Each postcard tagged with an inventory number I created. It’s a way to match it to the image file on my computer. A way to match a postcard from ‘Betrayed Woman’ to the image file.
Harper took more than my heart across the hall. She stole that fucking postcard.
14
Perfect Storm
Harper
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Isabella,
I wonder if my compass in life has been destroyed and I’ll never understand true north. What I mean is, will I know when love is real? I can’t understand what’s happened to me in the last four years. How could I be so wrong about someone? So blind to the false things he portrayed?
I hope you find true north someday. I hope we both do.
I hope Charley is doing well. Of course I don’t mind if she emails me. It’s sweet that she wants to be my friend since you are. Also, I know I don’t have to say this, but I’d never reveal our true connection to her. I’m glad I don’t have to make the decision about telling her about her father. I don’t envy you in that.
Hugs,
Harper
* * *
My bad luck hasn’t run its course. I’m not certain how Tori discovered where I worked, but she has. Seeing her leave Le Frou Frou’s surprises me. She isn’t carrying a dog out. Maybe she’s dropping one off.
I don’t say a word to her as we pass each other on the sidewalk outside. She’s wearing shorts and platform heels that probably cause traffic to stop when she walks by. It’s all I can do not to purposely bump her into oncoming cars.
People get put away for stuff like that. Orange is not my color.
I open the front door, prepared to put my purse away in cabinet when Tom signals me from the office door. I head there first. Maybe he’s giving me different duties today.
“Hi, Tom.” I try desperately to drum up enthusiasm.
He runs his fingers through his dark hair. “Have a seat.”
“OK.” I sit in the plastic chair in front of his desk.
Tom takes his place behind the desk. “Do you remember walking Hitler, the German shepherd yesterday?”
“Sure I do.” An uneasy feeling crawls up my spine.
“Someone saw you kicking Hitler because he wouldn’t cross the road with you.”
I gasp. Literally draw in air with a horrific sound and begin to hyperventilate. “No. That’s not true.”
“A bystander reported seeing everything.”
I whip around and look toward the exit. “I hope you’re not talking about the girl who just left. She used to date my boyfriend—I mean ex-boyfriend. She made the story up.”
Tom’s lips tighten and he straightens in his chair. How can I prove he’s wrong? He knows me. He’s seen me with the dogs.
He links his hands on the desk. “It doesn’t matter who reported the incident. I can’t have someone working here who treats animals with cruelty.”
“You’re missing the part where I said I didn’t do anything like that. I
love the dogs. I love this job.”
“She said she can bring someone else in who also witnessed what happened. They followed you here and that’s how she knew it wasn’t your dog. Not that it matters. Animals deserve better treatment.” Tom stands and puts his hands on his hips. “I really thought you’d work out. We get along and—”
Hung without a true jury. I have to give it to Tori for being cunning. If she wanted to punish me today, she found a perfect way.
“Thanks¸ Tom. Thanks for believing a stranger.”
“Your last check—”
“Mail it.” I leave the office and hope I can make it to the truck without crying.
Inside the truck, I break down. It’s the hottest day of the summer on record and I sit inside the hot cab of my vehicle crying for everything I’ve lost. I know I’m not at fault for losing my job. That was a sucky twist, compliments of Tori. But everything else is something I could’ve prevented.
If only I’d never sent the postcard. If only I’d asked Leo in person for it instead of deciding I’d take what I wanted. If only I’d never deceived him.
My life is a long list of regrets.
But I do have the postcard now and it won’t be printed. I wipe the hot tears from my cheeks with the backs of my hands.
I check myself in the mirror. I resemble a zombie with dark circles framing my eyes.
I’ll be okay. I can do this.
I could go home to my folks. Pretend the last four years never happened.
And never see Leo again. My chest constricts into a tight ball of misery and I slump into the seat.
The ding of my cell phone alerts me of a text. Josie’s tried to contact me over the past few days and I’ve avoided her. My stomach cramps at the thought of losing her as well. I’ve waited for the text that calls me a liar for the things I’ve done to Leo, but that hasn’t come. Yet.
I’m not sure what Leo is waiting for by not telling her.
I drag the phone out of my purse.
Josie: I’m tired of this. What is going on?
My heart thumps hard against my ribcage. I can’t tell her because I’m a coward. I can’t lose her. Not today. It’ll have to wait until tomorrow.
Me: I’ll tell you later. Have to go.
When I was a little girl, Daddy always said that prayer fixes everything. He’s probably right. But I don’t think God wants me to sit around waiting for him to do everything.
I sat around for four years knowing that Wesley hid things, lied, and generally applied for asshole husband of the year. It was a bad plan. Really no plan, except for the money I socked away from the household allowance Wesley gave me.
I promise myself this time I’m only waiting a day to tell Josie about the lies. I turn on the engine and the AC blows warm air on my face. My head swims from the heat, the stress, and the lack of sleep.
Why hadn’t I sat in the air-conditioning while having my meltdown?
I shift into reverse and back out of the spot.
A horn blares and metal crunches somewhere in my awareness. My car slams sideways, my airbag deploys, my head snaps back and forward and back. The smell of burning rubber assaults me.
My car alarms blares into my ears. Something wet slides down my nose.
Then, blackness descends.
* * *
I dream of June bugs on my body, skittering around in quick circles, their tiny legs digging into the pores of my skin. Surprisingly, I don’t feel like screaming. I don’t feel like anything really.
“She’s awake,” a woman says in a voice too chipper for my liking. “Can you open your eyes? You have visitors.”
I attempt to see through half-mast lidded eyes. “No.”
There’s a low laugh. “I think she’s OK,” a familiar voice says.
I roll my head to the side and see my hand being held. “Hi. Where are we?”
Josie rubs our linked hands. “Hey crazy. You had an accident. It’s a miracle that you aren’t dead. I was the last number in your phone and they called me. We have to watch you for a concussion.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. And when you do something, you go all out. No half-assed accident for you. No, ma’am.”
“What…do…you mean?” A movement from the corner catches my eye. It’s Leo, sitting in a chair as far from me as possible. He stares at me, his face expressionless.
“You were backing out of a parking spot. A semi pulled in going way too fast and barreled into you. He dragged you across the lot and into a dumpster. Well, you in your truck. You hit your head on the window. You’re going to be really sore for a while.” Josie squeezes my fingers.
That explains the bandage over my left eye and the feeling that my limbs aren’t attached. That I’m floating above the entire room.
I can’t take my gaze from Leo’s. He doesn’t look away and I’m like a fly caught in the spider’s web. I’m unable to move or escape. Perhaps I wish to die this way—locked in his heaven-blue gaze.
“Don’t remember,” I say. I smack my lips together. “Thirsty.”
To my surprise, Leo rises from his seat and leaves the room. My pulse quickens and I can’t breathe. “Don’t,” I say, but it’s too late. He’s gone.
“He’ll be back, sweetie. Don’t worry.”
I turn my head from her and bite the inside of my mouth hard. There’s a metallic taste and then I close my eyes. As well meaning as Josie is, she is not a substitute for the loss of him.
“Do you want to sit up?” Leo asks.
When I open my eyes, he’s there and holds a straw to my lips. A small sound escapes my lips, like a hurt animal, but I don’t care. I nod.
I take a careful sip through the straw. He pulls it away too quickly and water dribbles down my chin.
“Sip it. You’re stuck with me as a nurse and lucky I’m not letting Josie help you.”
“Maybe I should be doing that.” She points at the Styrofoam cup. “At least I wouldn’t drown her.” Josie laughs deep in her throat, a diabolical sound.
“Kiss my ass.” Leo grins for the first time since I noticed him in the corner. “Harper, help me out a little. Small sip. Look up at me when you’re finished.”
I do as he says and he takes the drink away. He looks tired. Dark circles under his eyes make his eyes look like a midnight sky.
“You need more to drink? Was that enough?” He holds the Styrofoam cup against his chest.
“Missed you,” I whisper. The words slip out before I can think about them.
He looks away. “Josie, can you give us a minute?”
“Yes. Definitely.” She hops to her feet and leaves the room.
“I’m so sorry.” I keep my voice steady.
“I know. Me, too.” He sits in Josie’s chair.
Then, he reaches over to hold my hand and I can finally breathe again. I give him a bright smile even though my face feels numb and my lips are cracked.
I lick my lips. “Do you forgive me?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I can. We can be friends.”
“Friends?” My throat works convulsively trying to find a way to work past the giant lump.
“Yes. I’ve missed you. I have. But I can’t trust you.”
“That’s—” My throat refuses to let the words out. There’s a moment when my eyebrows squeeze together in a plea. “Not forgiving.”
“It is. You and I have a different understanding of what we want. I want to date someone I can trust. Someone I might someday spend a lifetime with. I can’t waste your time or mine if it’s not you.”
He releases my hand and places his face in both palms. “It won’t be easy at first. I know.” He shrugs. “But we were friends before this. We can be friends again.”
“Fuck you.”
He looks shocked for a second and color drains from his face. Did he think I’d so easily take his suggestion?
“OK then.” He gets to his feet. “You need some time to get used to the idea. Wow. I’ve never heard you this angry.
Must be the drugs. I’ll go get Josie.”
He turns and walks toward the door.
I choke I’m so furious. “Friends. OK. Guess my feelings for you were a lot stronger than that.”
Leo’s steps slow. He faces the door, but I can still hear him. “You’re wrong. And that’s exactly the problem.”
* * *
Josie and Leo take me home the next day. Home. I’m not sure I know the meaning. It’s supposed to be a place that feels safe and happy.
It’s neither.
I realize I’ve entered a dark place in my life and have to salvage myself. If it means letting Leo go, then so be it. Still, it hurts like no other hurt. As Josie says, it hurts like a mother-effer.
I’d obviously given Leo all the round edges and corners of my heart, the open places and hidden ones. The only thing I hadn’t given him was what he needed most—my fears. Because that’s where all the truth lives—in the ugly, honest parts we try not to reveal about ourselves.
Maybe if I’d given him my ugly truths, he’d have given me his.
On day two after my accident, I call Mama and Daddy for an hour-long conversation. It’s the most real heart-to-heart we’ve had since I eloped with Wesley. Sure, they both catch themselves trying to tell me what to do, but for once, they talk to me as an adult.
Josie attempts to be neutral Switzerland. She asks me to do things, brings me books, and never mentions Leo. It’s my third day home from the hospital and I smile at her happy face in my doorway.
“Don’t you have better things to do during lunch?” I ask.
“Nope. This is me, earning my angel wings.” She sweeps in with a white bag. “Brought you a burger. Dane sent it and said you can kiss him later.”
“I’m not hungry. I’ll eat it for dinner.”
She walks to the bar and pulls out the contents. “You’ve lost weight. Which normally, I’d be envious of and wanting to go on the old car crash diet too, but hey. You need to gain a little. Eat.”