I shoot her a quick I miss you text and she responds immediately. I feel better knowing that it doesn’t matter if we are 2000 miles away or how many new friends we make in life, we will always be bonded together with a history that is ours and only ours alone.
Ting
Corbin.
Four wheelers? An hour?
He doesn’t have to ask me twice.
For sure. See you in an hour.
I have found a love for his four wheeling pieces of crazy speed. I even surprise myself at how well I can handle one. For a kid who only owned a bike for maybe a week of my childhood before it got stolen from the side of my trailer, I can jump a dirt mound like nobody’s business.
Before I leave, I give Lorenzo's door that is shut a fleeting glance. I haven’t been in that room since the day that the lady from Child Services stopped by to give me an update on my brother's case. She was coming over to tell me that the case had been closed, no sign of abuse found. Ever so nonchalant, she grabbed her paperwork off my dining room table and made her way out my front door.
The anger that I felt when she drove away sent me over the edge. I ended up pushing my coffee table over and watching a potted spider plant slam against the ground, shattering all over my living room floor. After cleaning up the remnants of a temper that was gifted to me by my mother, I shut the door to his room. The very first room in my house that I filled with furniture and decorated with splashes of navy blue and lime green. Not a toy car or dinosaur was left at Walmart by the time I walked out of the toy aisles. I couldn’t wait to get home and start creating Lorenzo’s room that I had pieced together from at least a dozen different pins on Pinterest. I haven’t opened the door since.
Pulling out of my drive, I decide to drive by the trailer and see if I can catch a glimpse of my little man. I know that I won’t run into my mom at this time of day, she is sleeping off her shift and indulgences from the night before. I scan the dozens of kids running around my old trailer park and pull back out, disappointed that he isn’t out today.
My mind drifts back to my childhood and growing up in that shit hole. I feel gutted and angry that there isn’t a fucking thing that I can do to fix it for him. To make sure that he doesn’t have to go through what I did. The only good thing is that he isn’t going to have to raise a baby that our mom drops on the couch as soon as she gets home from the hospital. But is that a good thing? Because I know that the very reason that I kept trying and finally made it out of that trailer, was because that baby needed me. Lorenzo needed me. He has no one to keep him grounded and headed in the right direction. All he has is a memory of someone that may have cared at some point, but now is gone. Where is that going to leave him?
Cornfields fly by me as I drive down Patterson Road. Three hundred acres that have been in Corbin’s family for three generations stretch out on either side of me.
I crank the radio up and sing with every ounce of my soul. I am hitting notes that I usually don’t hit and it's like no other high on this earth. I release all of my anger and rage into Kelly Clarkson “Because Of You” and get lost in the natural high that I am feeling. Singing will always be my drug of choice. I will not end up like that fucking whore that did no more than give me life and leave me to fight for it on my own.
FOUR WHEELING WAS JUST what I needed and a bonfire with Corbin and some cold ones is the perfect welcome to the humid summer night.
“You sure are getting good at handling that thing.” Corbin pokes at the fire with a stick, trying to get it to grow stronger. He steps back just in time as hot embers fly up from the now raging fire.
“What, this?” I hold my beer up and give him a smirk.
“The four-wheeler, you nerd.” He plops down on the camping chair next to me and throws his empty bottle into the fire. “I see you on that thing. Like you own it and been driving it for years. Pretty damn impressive.”
“When I set out to do something, I ain’t doing it half ass. I’m sure that has to do with the shit environment that I grew up in, some psychological blah... blah... blah.” I grab a marshmallow out of the bag sitting on my lap and slide it onto the end of my metal poker. I notice that he isn’t laughing at my sarcasm, so I toss a marshmallow at his head, trying to lighten the mood. He catches it midair, bends down and grabs a poker off the ground.
“You don’t talk much about your life before here, this house... before Noah.” I watch as he slowly twirls his marshmallow over the fire, making great effort to not let it touch the flames dancing under it. “I mean, I've heard plenty of stories, especially about your mom, but I have never been one to run with the talk that flies around here. Unless it comes from the person’s mouth.”
I pull my flaming marshmallow out of the fire and blow it out. Black and charred, just how I like it.
“Shocking, you don’t hear that much around here. People actually going to the person to find out what happened. I mean the nerve of some people.” I sarcastically act shocked and he laughs. I press the graham crackers together and lick the sticky remnants off my fingers as I silently curse myself for not picking up Hershey bars. Half ass smores it is. “This time, most of what you heard is probably true. About my mom anyways. I don’t really talk about it because I don’t like going back to that place. Then I start thinking of Enzo and how I failed him. I mean, look at this—” I wave smores at the fire. “He should be here right now. Running around with sticky fingers and catching fireflies with not a care in the world. But he’s not. He’s staying over at whoever will let him crash on their couch while my mother works all night. And not a shit thing I can do about it.” I take a bite, trying to enjoy the warm gooeyness that’s in my mouth but this sad excuse is just proof that the Hershey bar is what truly makes a smores.
“Don’t do that. It’s not your fault. None of anything that has to do with that kid is your fault. The one thing that I know is true, is that you gave up your entire childhood for Enzo. School dances, plays, football games... you were at none of them. You didn’t have to do that, Sof. But you did and I think it’s pretty fuckin’ cool.” He looks up at me, the fire flickering in his eyes and I can’t help but smile at his kind words.
I get up to grab more beer out of the cooler and hear tires squealing. I hand a beer to Corbin and we head out front to check it out. The car is gone by the time we get to the front yard but the evidence of what they left behind is everywhere.
It takes me a minute to register what it is but when I do, I fucking lose it.
“What the fuck?!” I am in shock as I watch Corbin run up the front steps and put his finger to the sticky colors that are covering my house and yard. I feel like my feet have grown roots because I can’t move. And then I turn around and I see it.
My Jeep.
“Oh my God, my Jeep. What the fuck, they keyed my fucking Jeep.” Tears begin welling up quickly but not nearly as fast as the rage that is building within me.
In letters at least a foot tall the word WHORE is scribbled down the side. I am so angry that I am seeing red. I quickly turn back around to take in the damages to my house. It looks like every color of the rainbow is spattered in huge circles all over it. I pick up a broken balloon and sticky, wet paint oozes out between my fingers before I drop it to the ground.
“Shit, Sof. This is some straight up bullshit.” I wipe at tears that are too quick for me to keep up with and slam the rest of my beer.
“Who the hell did this?”
“I have no idea. God only knows.” He starts picking up what looks to be hundreds of broken balloons. Everywhere.
“Fuck it. Just leave it, Corbin. It’s too dark to be messing with all this. I have been wanting to paint this house since the day I bought it, so whatever. Joke’s on them.”
“Then tomorrow we are painting your house. I have a sprayer and a few friends I can call. You cook up some burgers on the grill and we will make it a date.”
“That would be amazing. Minus the date. Thanks Corbin. It really means the world to me.” He w
alks towards me, and I raise my beer to cheers him. The sneaky smile that flashes across his face, tells me he is up to something. Before I know it, he taps his beer on top of mine and it foams up and all over me. I scream out as he runs away and I chase after him and away from the hot mess that has exploded in my front yard.
I GRAB A BLANKET off the back of my couch and drape it over Corbin’s passed out self on my couch. He moans and snuggles into it and I turn the living room lights out as I head to bed.
I find myself scrolling through pictures on my phone. Enzo's sweet smile with chocolate cake batter smeared all over his face stares back at me.
God, do I miss him.
I go down the rabbit hole of memories a little bit longer before I find myself texting Noah. I regret it as soon as I hit send.
Ugh
Going to bed. How was your day?
I wait for the little dots to start flickering under my message and finally give up, tossing my phone on the bed beside me.
Ting
Would have been better if I was with you. Yours?
Oh, he’s so naughty.
You're so bad. Why I can’t get enough of you.
Ting
Get some sleep Brown Eyes. Talk soon. :-)
Wow. Burn.
I reach up, turn my lamp off and settle into bed. As I try to fall into a deep sleep, I replay all the moments between Noah and me, when he was so much more than some late-night text.
I slide my shot glass at the bartender to fill it up again. He raises his pierced eyebrow at me as he grabs the bottle of Jack. I take notice of his sleeves as he fills it up. Fine art with amazing detail. I could never sit through that nagging pain. I about passed out when I got Cami’s tat. It was supposed to be her name with purple hyacinths wrapped around it. I never made it that far.
“Who is she?” My eyes draw up at him in question and he points at my phone that I just dropped on the bar. “I've been bartending for years. I read people; it’s my superpower.” I throw back the shot and rub at my jaw in frustration.
“Someone I had to leave behind.”
“Soooo, why you still texting her?” He stands in front of me drying glasses with a white bar towel. The questioning look on his face is annoying and I should really head back to my room right now. But I don’t.
“It’s complicated. I have some shit in my past and family that makes it impossible. It’s just a bunch of messed up fuckery and best left at that.” He stares back at me, nodding as if he agrees but his face shows something different.
“Well, I ain’t gonna try and figure out complicated. Trust me, I have enough of that in my own life. But if the family that you speak of is the dick that sits at my bar every night, making my female customers uncomfortable, well, then I would lose him. Blood doesn't mean shit if it’s toxic to you.” I slam the rest of my beer and stand up.
“Funny thing is, he ain’t even blood.” I shake my head in disgust and throw a $50 on the bar for him. “Thanks for listening; you have a good night.” I give him a half smile and start for the door.
“Then what the hell’s stopping you? You murder someone or something?” I stop dead in my tracks and start to feel my blood go cold.
What the? He ain’t kidding about that superpower.
I chuckle at him over my shoulder and head back to my room.
As the elevator doors open, I can hear laughter and chatter pouring out of it. A middle-aged couple dressed to the nines and holding hands step out and heads towards the exit. My eyes linger on them until I am left staring at the closed metal doors. The silence is defining besides the dings alerting me that I am getting closer to my floor.
I swipe my key card over the handle to my room and the first night that I spent with Sofia starts to stir in my mind.
I go to the fridge and pull out a beer as I turn the TV on and fall onto the bed. Lying on my side, I flip through channels of nothing and start thinking back to the couple from the elevator. I want that to be Sofia and I someday. I want getaway nights to hotels without a care in the world, full of conversations and laughter.
The bartender's words echo in my head.
If it’s toxic to you...
Yeah, or if it’s toxic to others. I should have laid Crew down, right beside his dad, and burned that fucking trailer to the ground with them both in it.
I stand up and let out a frustrated growl as I throw my beer bottle at the wall. It explodes all over the room and I am left staring at the pieces all over the floor. I drop to my bed and rest my elbows on my knees as I rub at the back of my neck.
How am I going to live without her? Without Enzo?
I stand up and pull my cell out of my back pocket. As I pace back and forth, I start texting her. The words flow out of me effortlessly, but my thumb hovers, frozen and still over send. I can’t. I am either all in or not, and until I figure out what the hell I am going to do about my situation, I have to let her go. She deserves better. I fucking murdered someone and then covered it up. For God's sake, that’s some shit from the ID Channel.
Delete. I delete the message and toss the phone away from me, along with any hope of holding her or Enzo again.
“Burgers are done.” I pull the last one off the grill and set the platter on the picnic table. Corbin smiles from the ladder he’s on and heads down.
He pokes his fork into a burger from the pile, making sure he snags the one with the most cheese. “Hmm, pretty impressive.”
“You act like you're shocked. I will have you know that I have become quite the grilling connoisseur.” I dip a knife into the mayonnaise jar and start smearing some on my bun.
“Well, if you don’t count the time that you nearly started the side of your house on fire.” I challenge his smart ass look with annoyance, grab a coke out of the cooler and sit down across from him at the picnic table.
“One time, literally one time and I will never live it down.” I take a bite out of my burger and roll my eyes at him.
Corbin’s friends all start heading over to grab something to eat. He showed up this morning with at least ten people from the fire station, paint and tools in hand. I had told him last night that I wanted white, with black trim. Simple and clean. As we all sit around eating, I can’t help myself from admiring our work so far. It is beautiful.
“So, what's up with Becca?” I pop a chip in my mouth and raise my eyebrows at Corbin.
“What about her?” He looks away, failing tremendously at hiding what I already know.
“She seems super sweet, Corbin, and she really couldn’t make it any more obvious that she is into you.” His eyes follow to where she is sitting across the yard.
“Yeah, I like her. I’d like to see where it could go. Just don’t have much time with the farm, volunteer and—”
“Me?” His eyes meet mine and he turns his attention back to his burger.
“Yeah, you can be a full-time job.” He laughs and I reach over and place my hand on his knee.
“Listen, Corbin, I love having you around and don’t take this the wrong way, please. But you need to follow whatever it is that you are feeling for that girl. I have heard you talk about her and there is something there. Don’t do what I did. Make it happen.”
“That’s on Noah. He should have just been honest with you about whatever it is he’s hiding. You wouldn’t be broken and the people that care about you, wouldn’t have to help you piece yourself back together. It’s fucked up, if you ask me.” He stands up and tosses his empty plate into a garbage bag that's hanging off the end of the picnic table.
“Seriously, Corbin. Just listen.” I drop my half-eaten hamburger and climb off the bench.
“Oh, wise Sofia. What words of wisdom would you like to share with me?” He laughs and steps back as I slap at his arm.
“Noah didn’t leave because he didn’t care. He left because he didn’t want me wrapped up in whatever crazy shit he had gotten himself involved in. And I was broken long before he came along.” He pulls his pack out and lights
up a smoke. I lean against the end of the picnic table and cross my arms as I stare at my house. “He bought me this house. Don’t know if I ever told you that.”
“No, you didn’t. But I kind of figured as much. I mean, from where you were to this, so fast. Plus, people talk.” Our eyes slowly draw together, and he exhales smoke into the air.
“I thought you didn’t listen to people?”
“I don’t, but the house, the Jeep. It didn’t add up.” I boost myself up on the table and start swinging my legs back and forth.
“Pretty crazy, huh? Who buys someone a house and a brand-new Jeep and then just... leaves?”
He shakes his head and rubs at the back of his neck. “Hell, nobody, that’s who.” A smile pulls at the corner of my lips.
“He did, that’s who. He did and expected nothing in return. The only reason that he did it was to get me away from the very person who broke me. He didn’t break me; my own mother did. He gave me hope, something I hadn’t felt since my Nonna. Whatever he can’t tell me, I don’t want any part of, and that’s why I can’t be with him. I don’t need any of that nonsense and drama. I am going to do better than my mother.” He walks to the cooler and pulls out two beers. He twists the top off one and I take it out of his hand.
“Wow, I had no idea. That’s some pretty powerful shit, Sof. Maybe he isn’t such an ass.”
“He has his downfalls. Controlling, jealous, egotistical with a splash of narcissism. All the things that should turn me off, but somehow don’t.” I scrunch my face at him and hold my beer up for us to cheers. “So, if you are asking for my oh-so-wise words of wisdom, it’s this. Go over to Becca and ask her if she wants to stay later for a fire. Don’t sit out on life or you may not get to experience love and all the fucked-up shit that comes with it.” We tap our bottles together and take a drink.
Break Away: A Midwest Small Town Romance Page 23