by Kelly Myers
Chapter Five
I usually show up to brunch right on time but this Sunday, I get there much earlier than the agreed upon time of 10:30 in the morning.
The hostess recognizes me and leads me to our usual corner booth. We’ve been having brunch at The Breakfast Spot in Lincoln Park for years. It’s got all the classic breakfast items, and it’s never overcrowded like some of the trendier spots.
I settle into the booth and order a coffee. I’m still a little drowsy since I always sleep late, but I’m excited to see my friends. I want to ask their advice about Zach. His card is still in my coat pocket.
Zoe arrives right as my coffee does. Her straight dark hair swooshes over her shoulder as she slides into the seat across from me. I observe the baggy band T-shirt that she’s wearing beneath her wool coat.
“Have a fun sleepover with Todd?” I ask.
Todd is the guy Zoe has been seeing.
“Oh my god, you guys need to stop teasing,” she says. “It’s not like he’s my first ever boyfriend.”
Zoe’s not really mad though. Her cheeks are stained a delicate pink, and she’s got that small giddy smile she always has whenever she’s excited about someone.
“Thank God for that,” I quip. “Your college boyfriend was boring.”
“Ugh, why are we discussing college boyfriends?” Marianne flops down into the chair, her curls making a messy halo around her head.
Zoe blinks in surprise. Marianne is only a few minutes late, which is a rare occurrence.
“10:34,” I say. “We might need to write this down as a new record.”
“Ha, ha.” Marianne gives me a wry look. “I had to cover someone’s 5am shift, and I am in no mood for jokes.”
Marianne is a talented singer and performer who has gigs most evenings, but she works at a coffee shop during the day. She slumps against her seat and wraps her massive knit cardigan around her as she pouts. Zoe gives her shoulder a sympathetic pat.
Elena comes bustling in, only a moment later. She sits down next to me with a big smile, and I instantly feel warm and content. We’ve helped each other through so many ups and downs, and I always feel like we’re pieces of a puzzle coming together when we all meet.
It’s sappy, but it’s the truth. My first week of college, I was a wreck. I felt I didn’t fit in, and like there had been some terrible mistake. I was from Torrins. My mother was an alcoholic drug-dealer. I didn’t belong at a university.
Even so, I wasn’t going to give up. I just figured I wouldn’t make many friends.
Then Zoe sat next to me in an Anthropology class. She was so put-together with her neat hair and her fastidious notes, but I could tell she wasn’t a snob. She worked hard, and I liked that.
The professor had this Australian accent, and he was always talking about the thrill of discovering early humanoid bodies. I was good at imitating voices, so when class let out, I leaned over towards Zoe and murmured in a pretty decent Aussie voice, “And if you find a corpse in your backyard, please call me at once.”
Zoe had been sipping from a water bottle, and she laughed so hard, water came out through her nose.
Then she told me that we had to study together, which I later discovered was Zoe’s way of making friends. Later that week, she invited me to have lunch with some friends from her dorm, Marianne and Elena. The rest is history.
After we order our food, Elena turns to us. Her eyes are bright and merry beneath her bright red headband. She’s probably been up since six in the morning, only she’s not grumpy about it like Marianne.
“So how is everyone?” she asks.
“I’m good,” Zoe says. “Todd and I went to this amazing Ethiopian place last night.”
“Ugh, spare us the romantic details of your dating life,” Marianne says. “The rest of us are still out here in the absolute hell...that is the casual hook-up world.”
Zoe, unperturbed by Marianne’s negativity, just sticks out her tongue. “I put in my time of suffering, now I get to gloat!”
Marianne rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling.
“Anyway, I don’t need a boyfriend,” Marianne declares. “I just got a slot in a super cool open mic in Wicker Park later this month, you all have to come.”
“Of course!” Elena squeals.
“I’ll bring my boyfriend,” Zoe says, just to make Marianne roll her eyes again.
Our food arrives, and we dig in. I take a few bites of my waffles before deciding it’s time.
“Something crazy actually happened on Friday,” I say.
Elena’s head shoots up, as if she’s been waiting since Wednesday for this other shoe to drop.
“I ran into Zach, this guy I knew in high school.”
Elena’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. Zoe looks nervous at the mention of high school. She hates breaking rules, and so I think the stories of my scandalous youth give her second-hand stress. Marianne has a sixth sense for drama though so she’s leaning forward on her elbows.
“He was, like, from the wrong side of the tracks, wasn’t he?” Marianne lowers her voice as if it’s the most salacious topic.
“Ok, this isn’t a TV show, Marianne,” I say. “And all of Torrins is from the wrong side of the tracks.”
“What did he say?” Elena asks. “He was in Chicago?”
“Yeah.” I turn to the others to fill them in. “I saw him in Torrins last weekend after visiting my grandma, but it was from a distance. Then on Friday he was in the Merch Mart. We just chatted for a bit, nothing dramatic, I swear.”
I take a long sip of my coffee. My friends are all shocked. I tried to downplay it, but it still sounds creepy that he showed up where I work. I have the strangest urge to defend Zach.
“We were really good friends,” I say. “I think I forgot how good because I was so focused on moving forward with my life.”
I shrug. I don’t know how to explain the ease and camaraderie I feel with Zach. The truth is, I’ve never experienced that kind of friendship with anyone but them.
“So what are you gonna do?” Elena is practically breathing down my neck, she’s leaning so far forward.
“He wants to have dinner to catch up,” I say. I pull out the business card and place it on the table.
Zoe snatches the card up, but Marianne furrows her brow and raises her hand.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Marianne says. “He wasn’t just a friend, you guys hooked up?”
“We kissed a few times.” I do my best to speak in a casual tone. “It was high school.”
I try not to think of our first kiss, but it pops into my mind unbidden. He had met me after my shift at the diner. He would walk me home a lot. He was upset that evening, but he wouldn’t say why. We stopped at the park as the summer evening turned to night. I kept telling jokes and stories about customers, trying in vain to cheer him up. He was always making me laugh, and I was desperate to do the same thing for him. Then, in that magical moment right before the sun sank below the horizon, when the sky was stained violet and pink, he turned and kissed me.
“But you’re still attracted to him,” Elena blurts out. She turns to the others. “She told me, she told me he’s still good-looking!”
“Looks aren’t everything,” Zoe says. She holds up the card. “Didn’t this guy do some shady stuff?”
“I researched his business, it looks legit,” I say. “Besides, he was young back then.”
I’m annoyed at Zoe for pointing out the same thing I’ve been mulling over for days. I can suspect Zach of still dealing drugs, but for some reason, I’m irritated if she suspects the same issue.
“So you’re gonna have dinner,” Marianne says. It’s not even a question. Marianne can read a person – and a friend in particular – like a book.
“What’s the harm in one little dinner?” I ask.
Marianne gives me a smile. Elena does too, but her eyes are still shadowed with a hint of fear. She’s still worried.
I turn to see Zoe hunched over her phone.
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“These houses are nice,” she says. She holds up her phone for the rest of us. She’s on Zach’s website. “Like, these are huge projects.”
Of course Zoe, ever the pragmatist, is curious about his livelihood. I peer over her shoulder. I did visit the website but only to prove that it existed. Zoe is flipping through the polished photos of lake houses with big porches and artistic gardens.
“You and Michael are thinking of buying a country house already?” I give Zoe a joking elbow in the ribs. “That’s ambitious.”
We move on to other topics, but every now and then, I catch Elena casting me a nervous glance. She knows how shaken up I was earlier this week. She knows Zach isn’t just a casual old friend. I don’t want to dive into what he is though. It’s too complicated.
We finish our meal and head out.
Zoe and I live pretty close to each other in Lincoln Park so we walk together for a few blocks.
And as soon as we part ways, I pull out my phone and the crumbled business card.
Zach picks up on the second ring.
“Beatrice Dobbs.” His voice seems to crackle with energy through the line.
“Hey,” I say. “My friend thinks your lake houses are very chic, can you get her a deal?”
“For a friend of yours, I’ll put in free labor for sure.”
I smile and let out my breath in a short breath. It turns to a cloud of white in the cold air in front of me. “So are you free this week for dinner?”
“I sure am,” Zach says. “How’s Friday?”
I hesitate for a second. There’s something so serious about making plans for a weekend. Then again, I’m not sure he lives in the city. He might not want to make the trek in during a weeknight.
“Sure,” I say. “I’ll think of some options and text you.”
“Sounds good,” Zach says.
“Ok,” I say. “I’ll see you Friday.”
“I’m glad you called,” Zach says. “Or I would have had to hang around your office some more.”
I scoff. “You’re lucky I’m feeling sentimental about an old friend.”
“I guess so.”
“Bye, Zach.”
I hang up.
When I get back to my apartment, I collapse on my couch. It’s just two old friends having dinner. That’s normal. Lots of people meet up with high school friends to chat. It doesn’t have to be a monumental incident.
I stare out of my window at the bare trees for a while. It’s the dead of winter, but I keep picturing that summer day, long ago, when I kissed a boy at sunset.
Chapter Six
For the hundredth time, I remind myself it’s not a date. I don’t need to stress about how I look or what I’m wearing. It’s not like he’s seeing me for the first time in years – that already happened.
He said I was still gorgeous. I blush at the memory.
I hurried home from work as soon as I could to prepare myself for the evening. Now half my closet is spread out on my bed. And I keep telling myself it’s not a date.
I cross my arms and frown at my options. I have a green long-sleeve dress that looks good with tights and boots, but wearing a dress sends a certain message. It declares that I dressed up for this dinner. That I put in an extra effort, especially during such a cold night.
So the dress is out. I want to look effortless with Zach. I want to appear completely unruffled. When we were teenagers, he had the upper hand. He was the older and more worldly, and I could barely keep my cool around him, I had such a massive crush. I’m not a stammering kid anymore. I want to ooze sophistication.
Maybe I want to prove myself a bit. I have a chip on my shoulder, it’s true. Ever since college, I’ve been determined to show the world that I am so much more than where I came from. He was nice to me back when I was young, but I always felt like he was trying to take care of me. I wondered if he thought of me as Poor Little Beatrice, with her screwed up mother. I want to show Zach that I’m fine now. Much better than just fine. I’m excellent.
I can’t be too defensive though. I need to be easy and relaxed. I need to act like I haven’t been overthinking about this dinner all week.
At first, I threw myself into the logistics so I wouldn’t have to think about any other details. I recruited Zoe – who’s passion for dining out is nearing an obsession – to help pick out a restaurant. When I texted Zach, he said he didn’t mind driving into the city so we selected a cute but casual Italian place in Lincoln Park. I wanted to ask him where exactly he is driving from so I could figure out if he still lives in Torrins, but I didn’t.
Unfortunately, once the restaurant and time (7pm) were nailed down, I had nothing to do but stress. Every day, I decided all over again that this catch-up dinner with Zach was a bad idea. What good could possibly come from it? I hated thinking about my past. Why should I spend hours in the company of someone who might ask about it?
I almost cancelled about a dozen times, but I kept stopping myself before I sent the bail-out text. I kept picturing Zach’s face, his smile, the tone of his voice. He had made me feel good, even in the few moments of interaction in the Merch Mart. That counted for something in my book.
I’m not a stoic, nor am I a masochist. If I want something, I go for it. Even though I’m stressing, I still want to see Zach again. So I’m not going to deny myself that opportunity.
Although surveying my clothes and trying to decide what to wear, I do wish I had pushed for coffee instead of a whole meal. That’s much more appropriate for two old friends just catching up. A whole dinner ups the stakes.
The thing is, I know we won’t run out of things to talk about. That’s what makes it so intimidating. How quickly I could get attached to Zach again.
After I moved in with my grandmother, I didn’t miss him at first. Our relationship had always felt fleeting and undefined. When I left my mom, I was too focused on schoolwork and my grandmother to think about Zach.
My grandma didn’t mess around. She told me that she would take me in, but only if I was serious about getting my life on the right track. She wanted me to have nothing to do with anyone even loosely associated with anything illegal. She insisted on checking my homework every night to make sure I was doing it, and she even made me meet with the school counselor once a week.
She didn’t do all that just to be strict. I think she was terrified that I was going to end up like my mother if she didn’t do something drastic.
The counselor ended up changing my life. She pushed me to apply to college and helped me figure out scholarships and financial aid. When I got accepted that spring, my grandmother couldn’t stop crying.
It wasn’t until I was about to leave for college that I started to miss Zach. All my emotions were delayed. We hadn’t talked at all since the summer before, but I kept feeling an urge to reach out to him. To say one last goodbye.
I never did it. I was scared, truth be told. What if my college found out I had associated myself with a drug dealer? It was an absurd fear, but I was terrified they might rescind my acceptance. Everything seemed too good to be true, and I didn’t want to mess it up.
Plus I didn’t even know what I would say to Zach. Hey, I know we haven’t talked in a year, and we were never officially dating or anything, but it turns out, you’re my best friend in this entire sorry town.
I couldn’t do it. So I just left. I missed him for a while, but soon I made all my new friends, and they were so happy and untroubled and wholesome. None of them had fathers who made them deliver drugs to clients.
That was the main issue with Zach. I never could get over all the dubious things he had done, even if it wasn’t always his fault.
A few weeks after our first kiss, I found out why he had been so upset that day. Before that, his dad had only made him transport drugs now and then, but David O’Malley had made a decree: if Zach wanted to continue living under his roof, he had to step up. He had to get more involved with the “family business.”
I was using Zach as
a security blanket that summer, but he was using me as well. Whenever he had an argument with his dad, he would come to me and kiss me like there was no tomorrow.
It was romantic, but also scary. We were both so desperate and young.
I sigh and pick up a pair of slim black jeans. I don’t like thinking about that emotional summer. It’s a total mood kill. I hope Zach doesn’t want to talk about it at dinner.
I pull the jeans on and then grab a dark green blouse with little white flowers on it. Paired with my black boots, it’s a simple but flattering outfit.
I run my fingers through my hair and feel a flurry of pride as I note how shiny and soft it is tonight. I retouch my mascara and add a swipe of gloss to my lips. Nothing fancy. I’m barely trying. It’s not a real date.
I take a deep breath and remind myself of some ground rules. The most important one: no flirting. We are not a romantic item. Of course, with Zach, the line between joking banter and flirting is a blurry one. I’ll just have to do my best.
Second, no talk of the past. I’ll tell him all about my college years and my job and my current friends. Maybe I’ll mention Deborah, but only in the context of a recent visit to see her.
My final rule is to figure out if he still deals drugs. If he does, I want nothing to do with him. He’s not a teenager anymore, he’s an adult. He can’t use his dad as an excuse anymore.
I shudder. I hated Zach’s dad. I didn’t see David O’Malley often, but he always made my skin crawl on the rare occasions he visited my mom with Finn.
Once Zach and I had been making out in the alleyway near my mom’s building, when David pulled up in his beat-up car. Quick as lightning, Zach shoved me behind the dumpster and told me to stay put and not make a sound. It was the most serious moment I had ever seen Zach.
He had ducked out to the sidewalk, and I had sat on the dirty ground, listening to David ask Zach where he had been, curse at him a few times before they drove off.
I start to pack up my purse and smile to myself. I definitely had not been as scared as I should have been. I was so naive. Even though I knew my mom was dealing, I thought it couldn’t possibly be that bad. I imagined she was just doing it now and then, and she would probably stop soon. I figured the guys who were always dropping in were morally bankrupt, but not evil. But Zach clearly had known that his dad was dangerous.