Twelve Months of Awkward Moments

by Lisa Acerbo

  Even knowing that, the night does not proceed well. I drift in and out of sleep. Nightmares wake me. I dream of shadowy figures suffocating me. Waking a third time, heart pounding in my ears as the shadows dance in the corners of the room, I’m happy to have Kyle by my side. I felt safe next to him.

  I had put on pajamas before bed, clean ones. The compulsive need to burn the clothes I’d worn when Rickey arrived is overwhelming, and I plan to throw them in the garbage tomorrow morning. Kyle’s body next to mine is warm, but not in a bad way, and I inch a little closer.

  Kyle faces me, eyes open. I’m sure all my thrashing around woke him. “Another nightmare?”

  “Yeah. Sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. You did nothing wrong.”

  He’s suddenly next to me, and his soft lips join mine. It’s a quick and gentle kiss. My heart beats irregularly, but this time for the right reasons. The familiar smell of him fills my nose as he inches nearer. Kyle pulls me next to him, still kissing me with far more than friendly reassurance. My body responds, warming to his touch. As we kiss, I feel cared for.

  Worries slide away. I have nothing to fear. Except Snuggles, who jumps on the bed and startles me. “Off!”

  We lay on our sides and laugh, but then melt together. After a few seconds, he’s not content in that position. Kyle rolls, his strong body stretched over mine.

  I’m shocked at how good it feels.

  Why didn’t I notice before how his broad shoulders taper into tight abs, how his arms are etched with muscles as he holds his weight, hovering over me?

  I can tell he is restraining himself, and I don’t want him to. I reach up, tug him closer to kiss his neck, and that is all the encouragement he needs. His hand caresses my breast, and I arch with pleasure, wanting more. He makes a rough sound, his hips pressed against me through our clothes.

  “Please,” I whisper, “make me feel good.”

  Kyle grins, and then his mouth is everywhere, against mine, on my neck, on my breast. His hands are efficient, heating me in delicious ways. I forget the world, I forget everything except how perfectly he seems to know how to touch my body. I feel good, very good, and my clothes slip away.

  I can’t help it. I moan as his mouth captures mine again and his hand gently caresses between my legs.

  “Look at me.” Kyle’s demand shocks me out of my dreamy, aroused state. “I need to know you really want this. That you’re not doing it just because of what happened earlier.”

  I’m not sure what to say. I do want it, but the reasons why are a muddled mess. “I want this. I want you.”

  He seems satisfied with my answer, so I’m surprised when he exits the bed.

  “Why are you leaving?”

  “I have to get protection. It’s in my wallet in the other room.”

  The dash of reality doesn’t quench my desire but heightens my nerves. I wonder what this will change between us. But deep inside, I know Kyle is the one man I trust. Everything will be fine. This isn’t love or lust, it’s something wonderfully in between. I need this. Being with him feels right. When he returns, his handsome face is above me, his body strong against my softness.

  His smile blooms. “I’ve been waiting so long for this.”

  “Don’t you dare start joking about.”

  His expression becomes serious. “Never. You’re important to me, Dani. You know that, right?”

  I nod. “This won’t change us?”

  “No, it’ll make us better. We’ll have one more good memory together.”

  I hope he’s right as I give into my urge to touch him, putting my hands beneath his shirt, sliding my fingers over his skin. He groans with pleasure and takes it off, tossing it aside. My hands go on to examine the muscles of his arms, over his chest, down his sides. As I do, he pulls off his shorts and comes so close, his breath whispers against my ear. And then all I can do is live the experience, touching without fear. My mind goes pleasantly quiet when he starts kissing me again, and I kiss him back, trying to show him my world and my emotions through the exchange. My world, from this moment on, will never be the same. We are skin to skin. It’s perfect. He’s everything I need.

  #lifechanging

  * * * *

  When my phone rings the next morning, I answer it with a garbled, “Hello.”

  “This is Officer Smith at the Mackon police station.”

  I’m instantly awake as he fills me in on Rickey’s arrest. As he talks, I bump Kyle with my foot and put the call on speaker.

  “That’s great news,” I say.

  Kyle sits up in bed, a hand smoothing his already short hair.

  “That’s the good news,” says Officer Smith, “but he’s denying the entire incident. He’s claiming you made it up, and he lawyered up quick.”

  “What? How’s that possible?”

  “Unfortunately, there’s no evidence in your condo other than the flowers and wine bottle, which we are processing for fingerprints, but no indication of a crime. If you feel threatened, I suggest you file for an order of protection.”

  After listening to the officer for a few more moments, I thank him and end the call, turning to Kyle. “Is this possible?” My wild brown hair cascades around my face, and I yank it back into a ponytail.

  He rubs my arms that have turned numb with the news. “I can’t believe this shit.”

  I’ve never known him to be so angry. “What do I do now?”

  “We get the protection order, and I move in.”

  “No!” The moment I say it, I regret my words. “I don’t mean it that way.” I stare at his crestfallen face and explain. “We went from one night together to living together. I’m not ready for that.”

  “I only want to protect you.” He moves away to the edge of the bed.

  I pull him back. “With everything that’s happening, I just need some time. I don’t know how to feel about anything.”

  But the bed sure feels damn empty when he leaves.

  * * * *

  Most of June flies by like the temperature on a summer’s day. It starts uncomfortable and only gets worse. My insides remain a coiled mess. Every time I step out the door, I wait for the attack. Rickey is out on bail before the trial actually begins. A date has not yet been set. There is a restraining order in place, but that doesn’t make me happier. Rickey is out, and I feel his eyes on me all the time, even at work.

  I almost despise work, and the stress of the Rickey situation makes it harder. I can’t concentrate and keep messing up even the simplest tasks like booking flights for the doctors. I keep making love/hate and pro/con lists about my job. That at least gives me a chuckle.

  It’s lunch time and I’ve stepped out of the office to eat my salad and catch my breath. I call my mom. “It’s not a good day,” I say when she picks up.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m barely holding it together. Maybe I should think about meds again.”

  “Is it the Rickey thing?”

  “What else would it be?” I sound angry. It’s not aimed at her, but the gods that continue to make my life a never-ending, terrifying rollercoaster ride.

  “I wish the case would move quicker.” She’s equally as angry. “I have a better idea. Quit. This isn’t the job of your dreams. Why stay there and be miserable?”

  “I have expenses now. A lease.”

  “I’ll help you out with the lease if you don’t get another job, but I’m sure I will. You’ve been so strong through this whole ordeal. You deserve a break.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” My phone buzzes, signaling another call. “I’ll call you back after work.”

  Drops of perspiration drip down my neck and in between my boobs as I sit alone at one of the picnic tables in the back of the building.

  I answer the call, only to listen to a recording of a woman trying to sell me a cruise. I do not hit the numeral one to speak to a representative. Instead, I dial Tanya in an attempt to avoid my upcoming nervous breakdown.

 
“Simsbury Animal Hospital. Tanya speaking. How can I help you?” Tanya has taken a job at the animal hospital until something more permanent comes up.

  “It’s me. Can you talk?” I smile and hold the phone away from my ear as she squeals my name. It hasn’t been long since we last saw one another, but based on Tanya’s exuberance, a stranger would have believed we endured a lengthy separation. We’re overdue for a girls’ night.

  “How’s Snuggles?” Tanya asks.

  “Evil as usual. She owns the place. I just live there to feed her.”

  Tanya proceeds to ask her usual round of questions. “Love life?”

  She doesn’t know about my perfect night with Kyle. It’s too recent, too intimate to talk about. Sharing that news would ruin our dynamic, make Tanya interrogate me about Kyle.

  I’m not ready to take the plunge with him or share what happened with others, even my bestie.

  “I’m not thinking about men right now.” It’s only a slight white lie. I fill her in on the latest information about Rickey. “He got another postponement of some kind. It’s going to be an additional two months, maybe more, before the trial.

  Tanya gasps. “Holy shit, I’ll kill that…”

  “You’re at work, remember?”

  “Right,” she says. “Can you meet for drinks tonight?”

  “Yes. I really need to talk to you. Will you pick me up? I kind of hate driving around alone at night now,” I say.

  “Absolutely.” Her happiness instantly makes my world a little better. “What is it you want to talk about?”

  “I want to quit my job.” I glance over my shoulder, but no one is around. I whisper anyway. “I don’t love it. Actually, I pretty much hate everything about it, including the people I have to work with, except for Geany. She’s nice. And now, after this Rickey thing, I’m having a hard time getting my shit together every day. I don’t even want to get out of bed.”

  “Are you asking my permission to quit?” Tanya sounds serious on the other end of the phone.

  “I guess I am,” I say.

  “What did your mom say? Hold on.” I hear Tanya answer a question about a dog.

  When I hear her voice on the phone, I say, “She’s on board with the plan.”

  “Then do it. You don’t need the stress from a job you never wanted anyway. This is your chance to find a job you love. You have your degree with honors. I say go for it.”

  “It’s not the smart thing to do.” My stomach churns at the idea of quitting, but the thought of staying at Primus hurts more.

  “Maybe not, but it’s the right thing to do. Did you make a pro/con list?”

  “Yes. Lots of different lists.” I smile to myself. This is why we are friends.

  “And what did it reveal?” Tanya asks.

  “There were more cons than pros.”

  “Don’t think about it. Just do it,” Tanya says.

  I laugh into the phone. “You sound like a sneaker commercial.”

  “Call me later and let me know when I can come over. My shift ends at two.”

  “I don’t need to call you. Come over at six. I need a life intervention.” We disconnect.

  #lifechoices

  * * * *

  But instead of an intervention, I get a dentist appointment. Rickey hit me so hard that I now need a cap on one of my teeth. I, like so many others, dislike the dentist, but my fear runs deep. Once I make the appointment, it is all I can think about every day. My heart races with fear, my stomach clenches, every time I think about the visit.

  I enter the tastefully decorated office and give my name to the male receptionist, who tells me to take a seat. There’s another single woman, comfortable in her yoga pants and sneakers, reading a magazine. A family sits close to the television. The parents watch as the two young boys destroy the toys in the corner.

  “Dani.” A stately African-American hygienist with short hair and bright eyes calls my name and smiles at me as I clumsily get out of my chair.

  My purse bangs against my wobbly legs. I follow her down the corridor but want to bolt for the exit.

  “My name is Nika,” she says.

  She directs me to the chair, and I sit, putting my purse beside me on the ground. There is a small television in front of me playing the news, but it can’t distract me from the packet of medieval and brutal instruments on the small tray.

  My heartbeat increases as she asks me the standard questions: any changes in medication, any surgeries…

  I’m not really listening.

  “The doctor will be here in a minute,” she says as she exits.

  Dr. Alzarez arrives soon after, and I realize this is happening. He’s been my doctor for as long as I can remember, and, at some point, my mom filled him in on my anxiety. His hair is starting to gray at the temples. He’s dark-skinned, slight, and, like the hygienist and the rest of the staff, always happy. I wonder if they have access to some good drugs because I can’t believe everyone on the staff can be so jovial for so much of the time. I want to ask him if everyone gets special training or something, but instead just stare at the television until he is ready to work.

  “How have you been, Dani?” he asks, sitting down.

  The hygienist goes to the other side of the chair, and I’m trapped. Nowhere to run now.

  “Good.” I can’t do small talk in these situations. It’s hard to hear his voice over the sound of the heartbeat in my head.

  “How’s college?” he asks.

  The buzzing increases in my mind, but I form an answer. “I’m done and onto real life.”

  “Enjoy your youth,” he says. He rips open a packet of sanitized gauze. The sound is like thunder when a storm is overhead. “Ready?”

  I shiver. “Yes.”

  The chair goes back, and I stare at the ceiling, which has been decorated with birds and flowers. The news pumps through my ears, and I hear about another mass killing and the president’s first one-hundred days. There is a prick, and then my mouth numbs. Panic rises at the sound of the drill. I practice my mantra, my breathing, and attempt every other trick I know to make it through.

  “Open up,” Dr. Alvarez says.

  Shudders roll through my stomach as I follow the order. The sound of the drill takes over every space in the room, filling my ears.

  An hour later, I leave with a temporary crown and a card for another appointment. My mouth is numb, and I have to pee so badly from the stress of the experience. Normally, I’d post about it to all my friends, but this time, I keep it to myself. My social media presence is on blackout.

  Even though no one else knows, I’m proud of myself for not putting the appointment off, begging my mom to come with me for support, or enduring with half a tooth.

  It’s a small fix that feels huge.

  #healing

  Chapter 12

  July 19

  It’s important to remember it’s not all about you. Sometimes, putting yourself in another person’s place, even if it is just for a minute or two, reminds you that the world has provided more blessings than curses. The challenges that leave the deepest impressions are the unexpected ones.

  * * * *

  Sleepless nights and unanswerable questions take a toll on my psyche. There’s no job on the horizon, and I’m beginning to regret my impulsive decision to quit Primus Medical. Tanya and Kyle join me for a morale-boosting lunch with Kyle’s friend Sean. We leave to feast at a local Mexican chain restaurant. I ride in the back seat next to Sean after Tanya calls shotgun. Sean is a skinny ex-professional cyclist who refuses to use deodorant and is understandably not dating anyone. Kyle plays chauffeur in his new car, a GMC Acadia with OnStar.

  “Why did you get OnStar? Isn’t that for old people who get stuck or need directions?” I ask.

  Kyle stares at me through the mirror. “There are a lot of advantages to OnStar. The service representatives are pleasant to everyone and handle all customer requests, no matter how inconsequential or ludicrous. Let’s try it out.” Kyle dia
ls the number.

  “Hello Mr. Copeland. This is Wendy. What can I do for you today?”

  “So formal,” I whisper to Sean in the backseat.

  “Hi, Wendy,” Kyle says. “Where are you from? You have a great accent.”

  “I’m from Virginia,” she responds.

  “And how old are you?” Kyle asks.

  “Twenty-two.”

  “Married?” Kyle asks.

  I cringe in the backseat. Tanya snickers up front.

  “No, sir,” Wendy says.

  “Would you like to be?” Kyle asks Wendy.

  “I haven’t met anyone, sir,” she replies.

  “Well, I know a couple nice guys, myself included. I could fly you to Connecticut.” Kyle is having a hard time not breaking into laughter. Tanya’s hand covers her mouth to stifle her giggles.

  It’s not so funny in the backseat. I’m having a hard time staying silent. I feel for the poor woman on the other end of the phone, certain this is not the reason OnStar was invented. I’ve had a lot of misgivings about getting together with Kyle. His maturity level being at the top of my list. We’re stuck in an awkward place now. Not friends, but not committed to making the relationship into something more formal than hook-ups. Soul expanding hook-ups, but laissez-faire none the less.

  “That’s kind, sir, but is there something I might help you with today?”

  “Wendy, can you tell me where the closest Penthouse Boutique is?” Kyle asks.

  I want him off the phone.

  “I’ll look for you.” Pause from Wendy. “You’re in West Hartford now. Is it in Hartford also?”

  “I’m not sure,” Kyle replies over sniggers from Sean.

  “I don’t see any, sir. What kind of store is it? Maybe I can find you a similar store.”

  Laughter erupts from Kyle. “Wendy. It’s an erotic boutique, but never mind. And thank you.”

  “Anytime, sir.”

  It’s hard to hear her response over the raucous laughter in the car. Disconnect. Dial tone.