Throw a Double for Spite

by Cherie Mitchell

  “I will.”

  She impulsively grabbed his hand, slipping her hand inside it as she used to do when she was a little girl. “I love you.”

  His eyes filled with tears. “I love you too. That never changed, despite what you might have thought. You were a petulant and angry teenager when I left, naturally focused on yourself as most teenagers are. I tried to explain my reasons but you weren’t interested in hearing what I had to say.”

  She nodded, not wanting to get into this now. Rehashing the past had no place here. Not today. “We’ll talk soon, ok?”

  “We will.”

  Riley scrambled out of the car, wanting to remove herself from Bill’s presence before she dissolved into noisy sobs. It was funny how a person could think that everything in her life was set in stone, only for it to change in an instant.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Riley was attempting to concentrate on her work, an almost impossible task after Bill’s astonishing revelation over lunch, when Paul sat a cup of takeaway coffee on the desk in front of her. She looked up, surprised by the gesture. “What’s that for?”

  “I like to think of it as a white flag.”

  She giggled. “It looks more like a latte.”

  He grinned. “Do you have a moment? Can we talk? The boardroom is empty.” He inclined his head in the direction of the meeting room.

  “Uh...” She looked at him, trying to decide why he looked different. What had he done with himself? New haircut? New shirt?

  He gazed impassively back. “I won’t take up too much of your time, I promise.”

  “Ok. I need a break from this anyway.” She picked up the cup and followed him, just as Colin walked out his office with his cigarettes. He gave Riley a weak half smile as he passed, the best anyone was likely to get from him.

  Paul shut the door behind Riley once they’d entered the boardroom. As he reached around her to place his hand on the handle, she caught the strong odor of mothballs, the scent clinging closely to the fabric of his black blazer.

  “You haven’t worn that for a while.”

  “Hmmm?”

  “The blazer. I haven’t seen you wear it lately.”

  “The cooler weather calls for a change of wardrobe.” He sat down opposite her and looked earnestly across the table. “I wanted to apologize for putting pressure on you as I did. I was completely out of line by leveraging my position of power in the company to ask you out when I had no right to do so.”

  Riley squirmed uncomfortably. “I thought we’d moved on from this.”

  “I’d feel better if you let me finish,” he said gently. “I wanted to say sorry.”

  “And I accept your apology.”

  His face was very pale. The bruise on his cheek looked like a splash of mud and the shaving rash on his neck stood out in sharp relief against his ashen skin.

  “Aloe vera,” she said, the words rushing out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Have you tried using a shaving cream that contains aloe vera? It does wonders for sensitive skin.”

  He seemed taken aback but not offended by her remark. “Is that so?”

  “Yes.” She mentioned a brand that was commonly available at grocery stores and he nodded. “Oh! I’ve just worked out why you look so different. Your glasses are gone.”

  His grin was sweetly genuine. “Contacts. My glasses got broken and I decided it was time for a change.”

  “Nice. They look good.”

  Silence fell upon the room and she picked up her coffee cup to disguise her awkwardness. The ticking of the clock on the wall behind her was very loud in the hush and Paul’s blazer made an odd crinkling sound whenever he moved, as if he’d stuffed the pockets full of paper.

  Paul coughed lightly and began to speak. “It’s not easy being Angus’s son, and it’s certainly not easy working in the same office as he does.”

  “I can understand that. I can’t conceive the thought of working with my own father. Why do you work here? Have you ever thought of finding a job elsewhere?”

  “I might have mentioned that I’ve toyed with the idea of construction work, but family expectations dictate that I stay where I am. I’m the oldest son...” He stopped, and his mobile Adam’s apple moved frantically. “My younger brother has restrictive health complications.”

  “Oh.” Riley had no idea that Angus had another son but to be honest, she’d never cared enough about the Gordon family to bother to find out. “So you’re the one who’s expected to carry on the family name by working in the business?”

  “Something like that.” He looked down as he traced his bitten thumbnail in a figure of eight pattern on the tabletop. “Jason has significant physical and mental limitations. He’s going through a rough patch at the moment but he will always need care.”

  “That must be hard on you all.”

  “We each have our cross to bear.” He stopped tracing and inspected his thumbnail. “My father took Jason’s diagnosis personally. In some ways, he sees Jason’s poor health as a reflection on his own masculinity.”

  Riley raised one eyebrow but said nothing. She was unable to illicit any sympathy for raging, obnoxious Angus. Other families dealt with blows such as this without taking their anger out on those around them.

  “Angus doesn’t show many people that side of his personality, but he’s constantly trying to prove his worth to the world.”

  She wasn’t sure of the appropriate response to that statement so instead she took another sip of the unexpectedly bitter coffee.

  Paul stared pensively over her head. “Colin and my mother had an affair shortly after Angus and Colin went into business together.”

  Riley blinked, shocked by the deeply personal nature of this conversation. “Why are you telling me all of this, Paul?”

  “I want us to be friends. I thought it might help if you understood my family a little better.”

  “We are friends. We’re friends and work colleagues.”

  He idly touched the bruise on his cheek before dropping his hand back down to the table. The movement stirred up more of the musty mothball scent, making Riley’s nose twitch.

  “Why did Angus and Colin continue working as business partners after the indiscretion?” She couldn’t believe she’d just called it an indiscretion, not after her family had suffered all the pain and heartache of Bill’s affair. Indiscretion was far too kind a word for such disruptive, selfish behavior.

  He shrugged. “Money? An effort to save Angus’s dignity? A need to pretend that they’re both better people than they really are?”

  “I don’t like them,” she said boldly. “I don’t like Angus and I don’t like Colin. Neither of them are likeable people.”

  To her astonishment, Paul put his head back and laughed. The sound was unexpected, hearty and pleasant. His lingering grin and sparkling eyes made him look more approachable, more vibrant when he finally composed himself and looked back at her. “I don’t like them either.”

  Riley giggled and stretched her arm across the table. He took her hand and she shook it warmly. “We are friends but I really should get back to work.”

  “Thanks, Riley.” He released her hand and stood up too quickly, sending his chair crashing to the floor as his natural clumsiness returned. He bent to pick it up as Riley took her coffee and edged around him to the door. Colin, wearing his orange vest again, marched past with a paintbrush as she stepped back into the open plan office. He grunted something unintelligible at her before disappearing through his door while Riley made her way back to her desk.

  ***

  Riley dialed Megan’s number on her way home, wanting to talk to someone about her lunch date with Bill. She’d stayed longer at the office than she’d planned, anxious to finish the project she was working on, and the streets were already darkening. The phone kept ringing and she was about to hang up with Megan’s breathless voice came on the line. “Hey.”

  “I didn’t think you were going to pick up.” The sound of laught
er and music reached Riley’s ears. “Where are you?”

  “At a bar. I’m meeting a friend for dinner.”

  “A friend? Anyone I know?”

  Megan laughed. “I’ll fill you in on the details the next time I see you. What’s up? Why did you call?”

  “No real reason. Enjoy your date, ok?”

  “I will. Bye.”

  Riley dropped the phone into her lap and turned the car towards Briar’s apartment instead, reluctant to return to her own empty apartment while Bill’s revelation was weighing so heavily on her mind. She wouldn’t phone ahead – she would simply turn up and take the chance that she was home. She found a parking space on the street outside and walked quickly along the sidewalk, her shoulders hunched against the cold. Paul and his musty winter blazer drifted across her mind. She was still bemused by his unexpected confessions in the boardroom, each of them more outrageous than the last. At least she understood the reasons for his peculiarities a little better now, but she wouldn’t have minded if he’d kept most of those secrets to himself. She skipped up the steps to Briar’s apartment building, trying to think of why anyone would want to take Colin and his drab personality on as a clandestine lover. She stood under the broken lamp and pressed her finger on the speaker button.

  “Yeah?” Briar’s voice was distorted and croaky through the mesh shield of the microphone.

  “It’s me, Riley. I thought you might like a visitor.”

  There was an unexpectedly long silence, broken only by the intermittent crackle of the speaker. Riley chewed on her lip and glanced back down the street to where she’d left her car. Perhaps she shouldn’t have come over without phoning ahead first. The sound of hurrying footsteps came from further along the block, although she was unable to see anyone from where she stood. She moved to the edge of the step, unsuccessfully trying to peer past the overgrown shrub that grew in an uncontrollable ramble alongside the bannister rail.

  The front door clicked and unlocked behind her as Briar opened it from within her apartment. Relieved, Riley left the encroaching darkness of the front steps and walked into the welcoming light of the lobby.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The two women sat on the wide windowsill in front of the open window in Briar’s living room, wrapped in blankets to ward off the cold as Briar smoked. Riley had a mug of coffee and Briar’s wine glass was on the sill by her thigh. The candles that Briar had lit earlier flickered eerily in the dimmed light of the room behind them, the flames teased by the chilly currents of fresh air.

  “Cancer. That’s bad.” They had been talking about Bill’s diagnosis for some time now.

  “He seems to think he has a good chance of beating it.” Riley stared up at the single star that she could see through the gap between the buildings. “I’m still shocked by the realization that he has it. He’s done plenty of dumb and hurtful things in his life, but he’s my father. I’ve always imagined him as invincible.”

  “My grandfather had prostate cancer. Or maybe he didn’t. He had some kind of cancer anyway but I’m not sure if that was what killed him. He was never the healthiest of men, at least from what I can remember.” Briar stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray beside her wine glass and promptly lit another one.

  “Bill has always been healthy. Robust. I think it’s because he’s always believed himself to be younger than he is. The power of positive thinking.”

  “Perhaps there’s something to be said for running around with women half his age.” The smoke from the newly lit cigarette created a mysterious veil across Briar’s face and Riley watched on in admiration. She looked like an elegant woman from the 1920s, a beautiful vixen from an age when smoking was still considered sexy and sophisticated.

  “Or perhaps the running around with women half his age is what contributed to the development of the disease in the first place.” Riley had no clue whether there was any truth in the statement but she was not about to champion Bill’s cheating for any reason.

  “Is prostate cancer related to the amount of sex a man has? I didn’t know that.”

  “I don’t know. Probably not. Don’t take my word for it. I’m just talking for the sake of talking.”

  Briar nodded and flicked her ash out into the void below the windowsill.

  Riley decided it was time for another topic of conversation. “Are you still sleepwalking?”

  “Now and then.”

  A door slammed somewhere in the distance and Riley stared back out into the night. “Did you hear about the Condo Creeper? That poor girl is in hospital.”

  “I know. Sicko. I hope they catch him soon. They don’t think she’s going to make it.”

  “Who? The victim? Was she able to tell them anything about the attack?”

  “They didn’t say much about it. I only caught the tail end of it on the evening news.”

  “Ok.” Riley turned back to the open window as a cat snarled and hissed in the darkness, fiercely protecting its territory from some unseen threat.

  “Do you ever see Michael?”

  Riley stiffened. Why did hearing someone say his name still have this effect on her after all this time? “No. Why would I?”

  “I just wondered if you’d managed to remain friends after everything that happened.”

  “He cheated on me. I can’t forgive him for that.”

  “He was always so friendly and helpful. I liked him a lot. I thought you made a good couple.”

  Riley pushed down a frisson of anger. “Aren’t you listening to what I’m saying? How can you sit here and say we made a good couple when Michael was screwing someone else behind my back?”

  Briar shifted position and the night shadows made it difficult to see her expression clearly. “Other couples move on from stuff like that. I’ve noticed that you don’t seem to like men much. Is it because of your father? Do you think your wound was already too deep and Michael’s betrayal only compounded the hurt? Has it made you unable to form lasting relationships with the opposite sex?”

  “I can’t say that I’ve ever thought to hold the two incidents up side by side and compare them,” Riley said sarcastically. “And of course I like men. You seem to know a lot about the subject. Why don’t you go right ahead and give me your unbiased viewpoint?”

  Briar ignored her sarcasm. “There’s no law anywhere that says you have to like men.” She blew out a perfect smoke ring and watched as it floated away. “Childhood traumas tend to linger. It’s a well-known fact, and you said yourself that you and your father were once close. His departure from your life has probably left a lasting legacy and you can’t see it yourself, but others can.”

  “I was sixteen when Bill left. I wasn’t a child.” Briar’s words were confronting but they couldn’t possibly be true, could they? Did her friends truly believe that she didn’t like men?

  “You were a child.”

  “Well, it obviously didn’t affect me so badly that it started a life-long habit of sleepwalking.” Riley regretted the barbed words as soon as they left her lips. “I’m sorry, Briar. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “It’s ok.” Briar studied the end of her cigarette. “I like that you feel you can say whatever you’re thinking to me. I like hearing about whatever’s on your mind. You don’t have to have your guard up around me.”

  “Still... there was no need for me to be unkind.”

  Briar blew another smoke ring, although this one wobbled and broke, disintegrating into nothing before it could take flight. “You’re a good friend, Riley. Our little chats are the highlight of my day.”

  Riley stared at her, trying to remember why the comment seemed so familiar. Hadn’t someone else recently said exactly the same thing?

  Briar crushed the remainder of her cigarette into the ashtray and swung her legs down off the windowsill. “It’s getting colder. Pull the window shut and I’ll order something for dinner.”

  Riley pushed herself up onto her knees and leaned out to grab the latch of the window. The
blanket she’d wrapped around herself hindered her movements, trapping her left knee and treacherously throwing her off balance. The ground far below spun dizzyingly and she cried out, certain for one terrifying moment that she was about to fall.

  “I’ve got you.” Briar was suddenly there. She wrapped her strong arms around Riley and pulled her to safety. Still trembling from the near miss, Riley sat on the edge of the windowsill and stared up into her friend’s face. Briar was close enough for her to kiss if she’d wanted to, and her knees were pressed into Briar’s firm thighs. Briar left her arms where they were, holding Riley close as she stared down into her eyes, her mood impossible to decipher.

  Seconds ticked by until, made desperately uncomfortable by their enforced intimacy, Riley looked away to break the intensity of Briar’s stare. “Thanks. That was stupid of me. I should have waited until my feet were firmly on the ground and I should have taken the blanket off before I tried to close it. What will we have for dinner?”

  Briar released her at last and leaned across the sill to pull the window shut, doing so easily and gracefully. “We can order in or we can walk down to the Indian restaurant on the next block. I think I’d rather go out. I’m starting to feel trapped by these four walls.”

  “Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” Riley busied herself with folding the blanket and laying it over the back of the sofa as Briar walked around the room blowing out the candles. “Indian sounds good.”

  Briar’s mood switched as soon as they left the apartment, becoming upbeat and playful. She danced along the sidewalk beside Riley, making silly jokes and talking about her day at the construction site. Riley began to relax again, glad that the uncomfortable episode back at the apartment was behind them. She had to stop overthinking every interaction, to stop giving a situation more gravity than it deserved. Briar was a physical and affectionate person, prone to wearing her heart on her sleeve. Hadn’t she adopted that stray dog, paid for its medical bills, and given it a loving home without a second thought? She was impulsive and passionate, and that was all part of her charm.