by T Gephart
“What the fuck?” Angie said a little louder than she probably wanted to, junior stirring in her arms.
“Sweetheart, you are really going to have to downgrade the swearing.” Jase took the baby from her, mini Jase settling with the change-over. “Sorry to hear that Rus, let us know if there is anything we can do.” He gave me a chin tip being that his hands were occupied. The offer was kind even though there was jack anyone could do. Unless they could somehow convince Alison that she could sort out whatever she needed to sort with me by her side. Considering I had been unable to convince her, I wasn’t sure it was a possibility.
“How could she just leave? What the hell happened?”
Unlike Jase, Angie wasn’t content with my condensed version of events. I guess we’d been through so much together and she knew me enough to know there was more to the story. Not that I was entirely comfortable with it but there was no point hiding it. Max and Joey had witnessed half of the showdown last night. It wouldn’t take her long to connect the dots and work out it was more than a coincidence that Alison discovered Phil was her old man and then bailed.
“She’s confused. A lot of shit went down.” I pulled up a chair and started to recount the whole story. How I’d come off stage to see Phil’s hands on her and almost lost my shit. Then the son of a bitch dropped the bomb that twenty-five years ago, he’d shacked up with Alison’s mom, both of them neglecting to tell Alison. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to work out what happened next. Even Jase blew out an under his breath “Oh fuck” with Angie letting it fly with a few more colorful choice words.
“Fucking Phil is her dad? Max’s brother? How is that even possible?” She asked exactly what was rattling around in my head the minute I’d found out.
“Because babe, you don’t have to be that smart to put your dick into someone and make a baby.” I blew out in frustration, not thinking about what I was saying. “Oh shit, guys. I didn’t mean it that way.” My eyes glanced between the two of them, totally realizing how much of a dick I was being. The fact they themselves just had a baby completely overlooked by my throwaway line. It seemed saying the right thing wasn’t in my repertoire today. Too busy being a miserable bastard.
“We know you didn’t mean it that way.” Angie let me off the hook and gave me a smile. “Phil made a human. The guy can barely make a sandwich.”
“Yep.” As much as I would have loved for the story to end there it unfortunately didn’t. So I went on to fill in the gaps as to why I was now without the only girl I’d ever loved and rocking a bullshit mood. It didn’t get any better hearing it out loud. My heart just ached a little having to confront that this shit was real. Me needing to sit on the sidelines and hope she found her way back to me.
“I’m so sorry, Rusty.” Angie gave me a look I didn’t like seeing. It was bad enough I was miserable I didn’t want to drag her down with me. Especially not when she should be fucking ecstatic.
“Don’t even go there, babe. You need to concentrate on you and yours. I’m all good. I could bounce out a window and land on my feet, whatever happens will be for the best. Besides, I’m going to be caught up making sure you don’t make my new nephew soft to worry about any of that.”
Sure what I was spouting was total BS but that’s all she needed to hear. I’d deal, if it meant I’d go back to keeping things casual with ladies, then that’s what would happen. No fucking way would I want something with anyone else. Right now I’m not even sure my dick would be interested in another girl, let alone my heart.
“Please know we’re here for you, okay.” Angie gave me a tight smile that clued me in she wasn’t buying it. Honestly, I knew she probably wouldn’t but at least she wasn’t going to be a bitch about it and ride me.
“So what are you calling the little dude? Rusty is a good name, just putting it out there.” I decided the conversation had strayed long enough from the reason we were all sitting around a hospital room. For once in my life, I wasn’t comfortable with the attention.
“We haven’t decided yet.” Angie shrugged, shooting Jase some weird non-verbal dialogue with her eyes.
“We’d decided.” Jase grinned filling in the blanks. “But Angie changed her mind. We’ve narrowed it down to Declan or Zack. I’m cool with either but someone is having a hard time deciding.” Naming the someone wasn’t required as the raised eyebrow and loaded look were of enough a hint.
“It’s important.” Angie qualified, obviously needing to weigh in. “Our baby is going to be stuck with it for the rest of his life. We can’t just throw out a name and hope for the best. Talk to Gwyneth Paltrow’s kids in ten years, see how enthused Apple is about her parents’ need for originality.”
As much as I would have loved to continue the great baby name debate—it meant there was less time to think about my reality—I figured I should give them their space. It was time for me to bail and find a new way to distract myself. One that involved less people hopefully. It was on that note that I said my goodbyes, gave my yet-to-be-named nephew a kiss on the forehead and headed out the door. The sooner I tried to move on with my life, the better.
***
I was a lying sack of shit.
All that talk about me trying to move on with my life was complete bullshit. It had been three days since she’d left and every single time I walked back into my apartment it would take me approximately twenty minutes before I’d cave. My body lost its battle of will with my head and I’d walk my ass into the room she used to sleep in and sit on the floor. Because that made sense, prolong the agony a little more—dig the knife in a little deeper.
Misery was the only word for it. My days and nights empty as I flicked into autopilot. The band, the bar, nothing could get me out of my funk. Not even tinkering on my guitar could shake me from my mood, the anger and pain literally eating me from the inside out.
Max and Joey took turns stopping by which made shit even worse. The unspoken sympathy in their eyes not something I wanted to see. In the end I stopped answering the door.
Was I supposed to just let her go? Was I supposed to fight? Both had the potential to blow up in my face and, yet sitting around with my dick in my hand wasn’t an answer either. All I knew was I couldn’t just pretend we didn’t share something fucking real, that she didn’t mean anything. Even if it meant I didn’t get to sleep with her again. Even if she wasn’t ever going to be mine. I just needed to be in her life, even if it was only as a friend. Yeah, ’cause that was going to be easy. See what I mean?
Lying.
Sack.
Of.
Shit.
So sitting around feeling sorry for myself and not achieving much else could only go on so long. My limit exceeded, as my need for answers remained unanswered. Talking to Alison wasn’t going to happen either. Well not in the foreseeable future; not that I was going to let that stop me from pushing forward. I didn’t do well with sitting on my hands. Nope. Improvise, adapt and overcome. Like a motherfucking marine.
First thing I was going to do was find out what the dickwad who was claiming to be her father’s intentions were, because he had no chance of fucking messing with her head any more than he already did. That much I could guarantee.
I had no idea where I’d even look. Max had been tight-lipped about the piece of shit’s whereabouts and I assumed he hadn’t been dumb enough to stay with his baby bro. But given the shit he’d pulled in the past you never could tell. The fact he’d been mooching off his brother and totally denied he had a kid for so many years didn’t speak volumes of his character. Total douchebag, so rather than drive around the five boroughs in the hopes of finding him, needle-in-a-haystack style, I figured I’d start with his brother and see if he had any answers.
“Hey.” Max greeted me at the door, the look on his face not dissimilar to the one he’d been wearing each time he’d come to visit me. “How are you doing? Have you heard from her?” He winced knowing it probably wasn’t going to be good news.
“Haven’t heard ja
ck. And considering she left me and that was the last time we spoke, I’d say my mood is fucking brilliant. I’m sure she’s doing peachy though, I mean why wouldn’t she? Things have turned out so fucking stellar so far, what’s not to be happy about.” So maybe I wasn’t done being pissed about the situation. I alternated. Pissed and sad. Obviously pissed didn’t make me cry like a pussy for the company so it was the better of the two.
“Have you tried to call her, dude? Maybe she just needed a day or two to get her head around it. It’s not like you to throw in the towel.” Max gestured to the living room as he closed the door behind us. Obviously dumbass wasn’t around or I doubt I’d be so welcome. I had threatened his brother on more than one occasion so Max inviting me in when there was a potential for homicide, probably wouldn’t have happened.
“You think that’s what I’m doing?” I stared at him in disbelief, the anger bubbling inside me until I wasn’t sure the drywall wasn’t going to get intimate with my fist. “Trust me, I want nothing more than to see her or call her. You think it’s easy for me to sit around waiting?” He had no idea what I went through every night, the mental debate that kept me up for hours wondering if I had made the right decision in letting her go. “It’s not about me. It’s not about what I want. Seriously, dude, how would you feel if the rug was pulled out from under your feet? That girl has been fucked over so many times by so many people who were supposed to care about her, the fact she hasn’t gone completely Quentin Tarantino is a fucking miracle. Someone needs to put her first for a change and if she wants space then that’s exactly what I’m going to give her.” I knew it wasn’t Max’s fault; the poor guy was left to deal with the fallout just like the rest of us. Still I couldn’t help myself from taking a cheap shot, it was my gift that I spread my misery. Everyone should get a piece.
“Fuck, man. I am so sorry. Tell me what I can do? We need to fix this. I’m already catching heat from my parents and I’ve had to pretty much beg them to stay away. I can’t hold them off much longer, their view is they’ve already been denied twenty-five years knowing their grandkid, they are going to do whatever they can now.”
However bad I thought it had been for Max, it wasn’t even close to the level of suck his reality had turned out to be. I’d been so consumed with my own pity-party that any shit he’d been catching hadn’t even registered. Not only was his asshat of a brother MIA, leaving a shitstorm behind him, but he had to play interference with his folks who wanted to step up to the plate and do right by their granddaughter. Which to say the least was fucking admirable and something Alison desperately needed. And on top of all of that, he had to deal with me and my issues. Just another reason not to feel good about myself. I could safely say I wasn’t going to be winning friend of the year.
“She’s going to need all the family she can get, but she’s already spooked.” I rubbed the back of my neck trying to figure out a fucking solution. “You know where Phil is? I’m not going to kill him but I want some answers.”
I was serious about not killing him. Not yet at least. But if my fist happened to slip and hit his face while we were conversing then, what could I do? Shit happens. Black eyes too. I’d make sure he’d still be breathing when I left though. I wasn’t about to break a promise.
“You on the level with me, man? Bailing you out of jail isn’t on my to-do list today, neither is paying for a funeral, because we both know that shit will land on me too.” Max narrowed his eyes, trying to get a feel for the situation. Not that I blamed him. He knew me pretty well and had never seen me that mad. He had no idea what I was capable of. Truth be known, neither did I.
“I swear, I just need to know what his intentions are. If he is even thinking about leveraging her for an advantage . . .” The words stuck in my throat as I tried to rein in my anger. “It’s just best he knows that shit isn’t an option. I also want to know why the fucking Houdini act. Wanting nothing to do with her and then reappearing in her life like a bad case of herpes. He doesn’t get to do that shit, and if he plans on having any contact with her, it’s completely on her terms. If she isn’t up for it, your brother takes any expectations to the sidelines and sits on the bench.”
Phil would be begging for death if he even thought about hurting Alison again. On that rule I wouldn’t be bending, so best he heard it sooner than later. The I-didn’t-know wasn’t going to cut it as an excuse.
“He’s crashing at some girl’s house in Brooklyn. He called me yesterday asking me to bring his shit. That’s about all I know.” Max shoved his hands in his pockets, the strain of the situation wearing on his face.
“The stones on him.” I don’t know why I was surprised, clearly the man thought of no one but himself. “He asked you to bring his shit? He should be thanking his lucky stars it’s not torched on the fucking lawn. You been over yet?” It was no secret that I was hoping that the answer was a negative. The two of us delivering the asshole’s prized collection of jerk-off monthly sounded like the perfect way to spend what was left of an already shitty day. Besides, if I had a witness there was less chance I’d lose my cool. See, both of us would luck out.
“No, not yet.” Max shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Rus, I’m not sure this is a good idea.” He shook his head, unconvinced.
“Well either we go together or I go by myself. Your choice but either way, I’m going.”
“Fine, but we’re taking Joey too. No way am I going to be able to handle your ass if you channel your inner Hulk again.” Max finally relented.
The compromise was fair, better to have more hands on deck and while Joey wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer he had some killer upper body strength. You never know when you were going to need reinforcements.
“Sounds like a plan. Get Joey and I’ll go start the Camaro. The sooner we sort this shit, the better.”
While I knew making the trek to Brooklyn wasn’t going to get back the woman that I loved, at least it felt like I was doing something productive. It beat the hell out of sitting on my ass and waiting for shit to happen. Now I just had to make good on my promise. The asshole needed to stay breathing.
Pulling myself together over the last few days hadn’t been easy. The temptation to throw on a pair of yoga pants and eat my way from one end of Renee’s kitchen to the other was almost too great. But I resisted. If for no other reason than she had terrible snacks. Low fat ice cream and sugar-free chocolate? Why the hell even bother? It was like taking a toothbrush to a knife fight, pointless and ridiculously unsatisfying.
“Look at you showering without being prompted.” Renee had looked up from her second cup of coffee. “You are a machine. I’m so proud of you.”
“Hmm.” My hands wrapped the towel around my still wet hair. “I don’t know about the machine part but I’m not out for the count just yet. Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment.”
“Bullshit. You’re one of the strongest women I know.” Renee’s personal brand of motivation shone through as she handed me a cup of coffee. “Have you called him?” The him she asked about was unspecified but we both knew who she meant.
“I can’t,” I said, my heart aching at just the thought of him. “Not until I’m stronger.”
“You know that doesn’t make sense, right, Ali? If he cares as much as you say he does, he’s going to want to be there for you. Why won’t you let him?”
I didn’t want to have the conversation. It was the same one that swirled around in my head on an hourly basis. Did I do the right thing by leaving? Had I been overly dramatic? The truth was, I didn’t know. I was winging the whole situation and for once, I trusted myself that I was doing the right thing.
“If all our relationship is built on is him being my hero then I know we won’t last. I needed to see I can do this on my own. To work out what I want, what I need. I know it doesn’t make sense—”
She cut me off before I was able to finish. “Ali, it makes perfect sense. Hopefully he’s smart enough to wait around until you’re ready.”
“I don’t expect him too. It’s been days and I haven’t even called him. Why would he be waiting for me?”
It had been days where I hadn’t even sent so much as a text message; I wouldn’t blame him if he’d given up. He had options, ones that didn’t have so much baggage. It would make sense for him to move on. It was selfish of me to ask differently.
“Um. Because he loves you, silly? I’m sure the man is just as torn up as you are.”
“Maybe.” I didn’t dare hope.
“You’re interview isn’t until three, why are you up so early?” Renee put her empty cup in the sink as she went through her last minute out-the-door routine. The alarm on her phone buzzed as a reminder that she needed to get to work.
“I’m meeting my mom.”
Hearing the words out loud just confirmed what I already knew. If I was going to really stop running from my past, I was going to have to confront it. Let it go and realize that it didn’t define me. As much as I wanted this to be achieved remotely, I knew it wasn’t possible. The woman who birthed me unfortunately was one of the loose ends I needed to take care of. And I thought the job interview was going to be scary. Ha!
“Ooooooooo. You think that is a good idea?” Renee silenced the obnoxious beeping and tossed her phone into her bag. Her feet hadn’t moved any closer to the door.
“Nope, but I’m doing it anyway.” Or so was my new motto.
Don’t know where I’m going? Who cares, going anyway.
Don’t know if it’s going to all end up in tears? Who cares, I’ll pack tissues.
It was time, and I was done being a casualty of my life instead of a participant.
“If I haven’t said it before I’m so proud of you. Shit!” Her eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ve got to run.” Renee’s prolonged goodbye came complete with a squeeze and a stern “call me if you need anything.” And the door closed behind her.
