by Brea Viragh
The snack cabinet called my name with a siren’s heady beckon. Bare feet made little sound when I crossed to the kitchen and raided the second shelf. Cookies, candies, cakes. I didn’t bother narrowing down my choices, grabbing a handful of whatever I could reach instead. Better to swallow my sniffles and crash down in a glorious sugar coma.
“Here’s to me, you son of a bitch,” I called to the ceiling, knowing Weston couldn’t hear and not caring a bit.
The cookies tasted musty in my mouth. I crunched on anyway.
It was the opposite of satisfying to wake up in my bed, sunlight streaming through the curtains, and the remnants of my cookie binge scattered around me. Horrible to feel the cookies’ revenge when acid reflux soured my stomach for the remainder of the daylight hours. Worse to face Trista on her way home with a smile and assurance that everything was, indeed, all right.
***
“So, you got dumped.” Frowning, June added more milk to her tea and stared at me over a late breakfast at the coffeeshop the following day. “By the mayor. I guess the mighty can fall.”
“Are you talking about me? Or him?”
“Both, I guess. You’ll be fine. Don’t look glum.”
We were having pancakes at eleven. Despite the text where I hadn’t explained the problem, June came when I’d needed her. “I don’t want to hear it. It’s too soon for you to make sense,” I said.
“Yeah, and I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around what happened,” she replied, wiggling fingers in the air above her temples. Her spoon clinked against her mug as she mixed in the milk. “I mean, you were the mayor’s girlfriend. Then he takes you up to The Point and puts the hurt on you. What kind of person does such a thing?”
“I said the same.”
“I mean, leaving you there with the bill?”
“I said the same!”
“All for a job? In Florida?”
“Damn, June, you don’t have to remind me.” The memory was fresh, replaying in glorious color in my thoughts, and made me shudder. “I called you because I wanted a pick-me-up, not a dose of reality. Don’t bring up the bill again.”
“And I’m glad you called. It helps to talk to someone. I know.” She reached across the table to pat my hand.
We sat in silence, giving us both time to absorb the new status quo. June was right. It did bring a certain peace of mind knowing she was a phone call away. A shoulder to cry on when I needed one. I’d left the vast majority of my good girlfriends in Tennessee, and when I left, they had closed ranks. For the first few months of my absence I would get a call, a letter in the mail, an email or text or bump on social media. Now those communications had slowed to a trickle every blue moon.
After a moment, I moaned. “I just want to go back to sleep and wake up next week.”
“A true friend knows when you need sleep and knows when it’s better for you to get out of bed and face the world,” she teased.
“I’d sleep better if you’d ordered real coffee for me instead of whatever tea blend you have in your cup.”
“This is better for you in the long run.”
“I’m not sure what to do anymore, June.” The admission was difficult. I rested my head on my hands, planning my next move.
“Don’t take it so hard. Do whatever you normally do and be done. Weston wasn’t a peach, anyway.”
“Which is not what you said when we first met.”
“I said he was the mayor, not God’s gift to women. The power of his position may influence his standing with a few of them, but beyond his looks, I didn’t know much about him. Kept to himself except when he was on the campaign trail. He could schmooze the elderly, sure, like a poster pretty boy.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so bad.”
“Bound to happen. I’m sure I’m the talk of the town.” Once again. I needed to get used to the spotlight.
It felt amazing to talk to someone with an open mind and a willing ear. My father had always been there for me, loving me without reservation when I messed up. I’d known June a little less than two months and I had a feeling if I needed her at my back, she’d be there to take on the problem. And win.
“The talk will die in a few weeks.” June punctuated the statement with a jerk of her mug, splashing tea on the table. “It’s nothing for you to worry over.”
I leaned over the rail of the chair to stretch my back. A casualty of my sugar-fueled coma last night. Every joint and tendon felt like I’d run a marathon instead of crashing on my bed.
“The talk seemed all too important when Weston and I were an item,” I grumbled.
“He’s a dude. Dudes are usually concerned with their image. His job made it worse, and you paid the price.” She stopped, biting the inside of her cheek while she thought. “You know what will cheer you up?”
“I shudder to ask.”
“Knowing there is someone out there, right now, who is dying to see you. Like, literally almost dying.” She stifled a giggle and enjoyed her joke.
“If you’re talking about my mother, then I’ll pass.” I’d managed to avoid her this morning by spending a leisurely hour in the bathroom with the door locked.
“Not your mother. Finn!” June exclaimed.
I stared up at the ceiling and tried not to roll my eyes. I didn’t seem to have the knack for casual brunch anymore. Once upon a time, I could have twisted the conversation in a happier, more upbeat direction. Today I’d be lucky to survive unscathed.
“You get a kick out of tormenting me. I understand, it seems to be the thing to do.” My forehead crinkled in thought.
June pursed her lips before answering. She looked like a disgruntled Santa’s elf. “I’m serious. He’s been a different person since you started volunteering. Your time means a lot to him.”
“Told you that himself?”
“Well, no. But anyone with eyes and half a working brain can see.”
One skeptical eyebrow rose by itself. “Then good thing you didn’t hand him a mirror.”
“He’s been poring over those physical training books you left with him.”
“Good. He needs to educate himself if he’s going to do the work.”
“He doesn’t respond to the trainer the way he does to you,” she went on.
I thought about the elusive physical therapist with a mixture of appreciation and contempt. “It’s his prerogative.”
“Ah-ha!” June hid her smile in her tea.
“Ah-ha what?”
“The fire in your eyes, there.”
“Not fire. Rage. The man enrages me.”
She blinked innocently. “Sure he does.”
“I’m serious!”
“I’ll tell you, before you go any further, Finn is known as a sort of lady’s man with a whole heap of trouble piled on top.” June had apparently come to terms with his reputation long ago.
“Trust me, I’ve heard enough about Finn’s reputation to last me a lifetime.”
She reached across the table to place a hand on my shoulder, a meaningful look on her face. “I’m trying to warn you.”
“Warn me about what? I know how he is.”
“I thought you’d find it interesting. In case you were…I don’t know…interested.” June drummed her fingernails against the table.
“I just had a breakup,” I said, raising my chin. “Like, less than twelve hours ago. I’m not in a good mindset to think about another dude. Manwhore or not.”
“Then we will call it girly talk. Food for thought. He dated my sister’s best friend, and I’m using the term date loosely. They fooled around in the back of her dad’s truck and the next week he was on to someone else.”
June was way too eager to share this knowledge with me, for whatever reason. To lighten the mood, or burden my subconscious? I wasn’t sure.
“Come on, the man is in his thirties now. You talk like he’s been in Heartwood whoring his entire life.”
“He’s been here about ten years and all he’s
done is whore. Trust me. I’ve heard from a reliable source about his girlfriends across three counties. Illegitimate babies spread around like grass seed. He rides his bike down to this bar in Pinecrest, the kind where you go knowing you might come away with a disease.” She leaned forward and told me in a harsh whisper, “Orgies.”
I’d heard about the bar from my cousin. From my mother. From anyone with a working mouth who knew about my volunteer work. The bar was a dank little dungeon tucked into the hollow of a hill, where the motorcycles gathered, drinks rained from the taps, and the sixties’ freedom of sex and rock and roll were not quite forgotten. I’d also heard the clientele left a little to be desired. Okay, a lot.
“What Finn did with his time before the accident is none of my business.” I stared primly across the table.
“Who knows how many bastard children he might have.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous.”
June stifled a giggle. “Maybe you’re right. But the rest of it’s true. He wasn’t exactly good news before he broke his legs.”
She’d succeeded in her mission. My mind successfully transferred its considerable attention from Weston to Finn in a matter of minutes.
Later in the day, I drove to the rehab house with one goal in mind—focusing on Finn’s problems instead of my own. In the grand scheme of things, I considered myself lucky. I had a job starting tomorrow, a volunteer position designed to exercise my brain if not lighten my mood, and a new friend in June. Compared to the man with two broken legs I stared at, I was strolling down Easy Street.
Why was it difficult to remember all this when I felt like crying?
Finn gripped the handles of the walker. His teeth ground together, the room holding the echo of the pained groan. “What are you going to do?” he growled.
I glanced up from where his legs held my attention. “Excuse me?”
“About the bastard. What are you going to do? Revenge is a dish best served—” He winced, taking the floor an inch at a time. “—with a knife to the heart. Sadly, you’re not the murdering kind. I want to make sure that asshole gets what is coming to him.”
This was not a good day for Finn. Whether picking up on my own negative emotions or the pressure on his legs, I couldn’t say for sure, but the going was tough.
“I’m not doing a thing.” My own teeth threatened to chomp together and destroy my molars. The lubricating chewing gum between my jaws kept me from the dentist’s office. “You want to know why? Because he was never worth it. The relationship was a measly seven months of my life and he gave me a clean break.”
“Seven months of your life and he made you meet my sorry ass.” Finn squeezed his eyes shut; his teeth bit into his lower lip. He was holding his breath. He was expecting, I realized, agony. Each step causing great pain. “I say he deserves a case of severe diarrhea resulting in dehydration. Putting it mildly, Ros.”
“Let’s take a break.” I rested my hand on his forearm to halt the forward progress. “You already made it far enough and I can tell your legs are bothering you.”
“It’s fine.”
“Everyone has good days and bad,” I insisted. “I think you deserve a rest.”
Finn shook his head. “I’m making it to the goddamn door. Cassandra told me I need to work at it in my spare time when she isn’t here. Don’t try and stop me.”
“You might think you’re fine, buddy, but the mood I’m in, if you give me one snarky comment or disobey a single order, I will get a knife and shove it into your chest.”
“Ah, there’s my Ros.” Oddly enough, the insult seemed to have him gunning for the door with the zest of a tourist at a Las Vegas buffet. “Don’t you worry about me. You’ve started a fire in these bones, and I plan to see it through. It’s like I’m excited for life again. Ready to get back to being myself, ready to get my business back!” He shot me a grin designed to drop panties.
Somehow, I managed to resist.
Finn had talked about his business at great length, the motorcycle repair shop he’d started from his garage. It had grown by word of mouth, people who didn’t mind his womanizing reputation and realized he had a great deal of genuine talent for fixing the bikes he loved. He was one of those rare people who found a way to make money with his passion.
I wanted it for him, a return to the world he knew. If one of us deserved to be happy, it was him.
Nope, I couldn’t exist on such dark thoughts. Not when a large part of me wanted to curl up in a ball in a corner somewhere and cry. Better to focus on the task at hand. Getting Finn, and his walker, to the door.
This was a different man than the one I’d met on my first day. A real body-snatcher scenario. I almost asked what he’d done with the real Finn Price, but I bit my tongue. He was trying too hard for me to ruin it.
I kept a firm grip on the walker to steady him. “Take it easy.”
“You trying to be all sweet isn’t helping.”
I swallowed a laugh. “What do you want me to do? Go on and on about the nasty things I have planned to make Weston suffer?”
“Ha. You know how to get my motor running.” Still, his eyes took on a hard glint, the blue turning to dark gray steel. “I can’t believe he dumped you.”
“Let’s drop it,” I said, humiliated. “I’d rather not think about my shame any longer.”
“He’s always been a prick. You’re better off without him.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Acted like he was much better than the rest of us.”
“There was no wind on his pedestal to mess up his perfect hair.”
“Ros, I have a serious question for you.”
“Unless it involves murder and disembowelment,” I retorted, “then go ahead.”
“Will you dance with me?”
I glanced up again at the rapid change of subject, blinking. “What?”
Finn refused to look back. “Dance with me. When I can walk.”
“I’ll do the bloody samba on the hospital bed with you,” I joked. “Just take it easy before you fall over.”
He struggled like he wanted to win a prize. I wondered at the strange turns his mind took, and how he pushed his body to follow.
“Stop worrying about me.” One foot in front of the other. “When I’m better, we’ll dance, and you’ll find a way to get back at our mayor,” Finn said. “A creative way to ruin his reputation. After all, he was pretty concerned with yours before he kicked you to the curb.”
“I love your enthusiasm, I do, but I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’ll say it again, since you weren’t paying attention: I can’t handle much these days.”
“I’m sure you drowned your sorrow in a vat of something filled with carbohydrates and processed sugars, but I’m serious. It will do you good to give him a little send-off revenge. You’ve heard about goodbye sex? This will be goodbye payback. It’s the least he deserves.” Finn grinned, wetting his lower lip with his tongue. “Unless I can volunteer for the goodbye sex. Hell, I can’t think of a better revenge.”
The thought had waves of laughter coursing through his body until his shoulders shook from the effort of holding it at bay.
I ignored the come-on. “I’m not about to flaunt my body in front of him and make him see what he’ll be missing. If that’s your idea.”
“Last thing on my mind was your assets,” he replied, in direct opposition to his previous statement. Always one for a good joke. “I hadn’t made it too far past cut brake lines, to be honest. I was thinking about freezing roaches in his ice cubes, but it seemed too obvious.”
“Finn, let it go. Weston is probably packing for Florida right now.” I kept a steady pace behind Finn, close enough to touch and far enough to miss the expressions flashing across his face. “He’s ready to take on a higher position and practice his wave to a group of loyal subjects.”
“And you’re still here,” Finn stated with resounding finality.
It took me a moment to answer. “Exactly.”
“I don’t like to see you upset.”
His words shot to my core and the ice surrounding my heart thawed. “I appreciate your concern.”
“There, you see?” Finn shot me an award-winning smile.
I glanced over. We’d made it to the door.
“Look at what we have here. Pretty soon you won’t need me around,” I replied, hands on hips.
“I wouldn’t be so sure.”
“Stop trying to be a wise-ass. I’m not in the mood right now.”
“Yeah,” he said, his finger pointed at me, “but at least you don’t look like you’re going to curl up and die.”
“You…you have a point.” Oddly enough, I didn’t feel like it either.
“Just remember to come to me if you are planning a little revenge. If you give me a few minutes, I’ll come up with a slew of things that will make his life a living hell. Like cutting every third leg of his tables and chairs by an inch so nothing is level.”
“You’re insane.”
“I wear the badge with honor, ma’am.”
I got Finn back into bed with little fanfare, tucking sheets around him like he was my twelve-year-old cousin with a cold. He gave me plenty of other ideas regarding things I could or could not do to Weston before he left town.
Although part of me, a malicious little demon I ignored, enjoyed the thought of tormenting my ex, I knew I wouldn’t. In reality, it didn’t matter. It was the end of a relatively short relationship, one where I’d been in a difficult position time and again.
Good for my image. Bad for my health.
I knew with Weston gone I had no need to continue volunteering. My time was more valuable than the hours I spent wiping Finn’s metaphorical ass.
Somehow, the thought of leaving him had my belly twisting uncomfortably.
“Hey.” June waved me over before I bolted out the front door.
“Hey yourself.” I crossed to the desk with a tired smile. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I wanted to ask you. A bunch of us are going out tonight. Do you want to come?”
Going out sounded like my least favorite thing to do. June must have seen the answer on my face because she rushed on. “It’s just me and two other girls. I thought it would be good for you to hang with people your own age. It doesn’t seem like you have very many friends in the area.”
