by Lux,Vivian
And I was wearing no makeup, sweatpants and had my hair back in a sloppy ponytail.
And my baby brother was bellowing for me to come back and push him on the swing.
At the sound of Max's pleas, Low looked up. "Is that your brother? The one you had to watch?"
I was surprised he remembered. "Yup. That's Max."
"You're watching him again?"
"I watch him almost every day," I explained. Then I winced. I had basically just admitted to not having a job.
Max yelled again, "Zo-weeee! Push! Zo-weeee! Push!" in a repetitive sing-song. I shifted my weight from side to side, mentally begging Low to move in the direction of the swings.
"In a minute, bud!" I called.
I looked at Low, expecting his expression to be one of disgust. After all, to the outside eye, Max was acting like a total brat.
But actually, Low had this big grin on his face. And as much as I'd like to think I was the reason for it, I had to admit, it had me stumped. Why would he be so happy to see that I had a hard-to-manage little brother?
Low lifted his chin towards the swings "Sounds like your brother wants you."
"Yeah, he's...um...not good at patience."
He nodded. "I get it."
No, you don't, I didn't say. Instead, I said, "Yeah," as if that made any sense. I inched closer to the swings.
Low looked down at his hands, and then back up at me, seemingly on the verge of needing to say something but unsure how to say it. "So, you watch your brother every day...." he echoed, trailing off like he needed more details.
"I try to help out my parents as much as I can, yeah."
"Yeah?"
He sounded like this made him really happy, and even though I couldn't imagine why, I felt some of the tightness in my throat start to loosen. "I do," I said, and my voice almost sounded normal.
"Can I meet him?" Low asked.
I couldn't help the double-take. "You want to?"
Low nodded vigorously. "I really do."
"Okay," I smiled, and to my great relief, we both started walking towards Max. Having him that far away was giving me an anxiety attack. "Are you any good at pushing swings? Because that's all he's going to want from you."
Low grinned. "I was a what, five? He's five right?" He looked over at Max. "Yeah, I was a five-year-old boy once. I remember exactly how I wanted to be pushed on the swings."
"As high as you could get?"
"You got it," he grinned.
I had never met someone who smiled so readily.
I felt like the earth had started rotating the other way. This wasn't supposed to happen. The two parts of my life were never supposed to meet. I was supposed to break things off with Low because of my brother. Not introduce Low to my brother.
But all of a sudden that was exactly what I was doing. "Max," I said, getting down to his eye level. "This is my friend Mr. Low. Could you please say hi?"
"Hi," Max said, not even looking in Low's direction.
I looked up apologetically, but Low was just beaming down at my brother like he'd solved world hunger or something. "Hey little man, I'm glad I could meet you."
"Push," Max repeated emphatically.
I stood up. "Can Mr. Low push you?"
"Mr. Low push me."
"Could you say please?"
Max swiveled in his seat. "Please push me, Mr. Low."
"You got it. Hold on tight, you're going to the moon!"
Max whooped as Low sent him flying into the sky. I pressed my hand to my heart and looked away deliberately. And as I did, something loosened in my chest and I realized I was grinning from ear to ear.
Low was my fantasy. But here he was in my reality.
He turned and smiled at me. I smiled back and sat down, leaning back on my elbows to watch my rock and roll fantasy man pushing my brother on the swing like we were just...just a couple. A couple of people who liked each other.
A couple of people who really wanted to get to know each other even more.
Low caught my eye. "Hey, Zoe?"
I moved to him. "You need me?" Anxiously I looked at the swings, checking my brother from head to toe. But all seemed well.
Low beckoned me closer. "I forgot something."
"What's that?"
He tilted my chin upward. "This." His lips brushed across mine, soft and sweet. He kissed me like he couldn't believe his luck.
Chapter 28
Low
I'd kept her out quite late last night. I had every expectation that she wouldn't be up before noon.
But here she was up and dressed and at the park with her quirky little brother, who she clearly adored. She said she was with him every day.
I don't know why, but that sort of changed everything.
I pushed Max on the swing until he got bored and suddenly jumped off. He ran off to dig under a tree, and I watched Zoe watch him - her palms pressed together, her fingertips pressed to her lips. Once again, I had that strange feeling of deja vu. Like I already knew her and understood her. That maybe she'd understand me.
"Hey Low?" she called, her eyes never leaving her brother. "It's almost lunch time. We need to head home."
This feeling of connection with her, I didn't want it to end. "I'll walk you home," I said eagerly.
She looked startled, but then she bit her lip and nodded and there was no mistaking the shy delight in her eyes. I loved how I knew what she was feeling because I was feeling the same way.
A small, quiet revolution was going on inside of me, overturning everything I knew about chicks.
Zoe wasn't a chick.
One-Week-Woe wouldn't work here.
Zoe. This girl, this woman...
She was a keeper.
"Max, one more minute!" she called, holding up one finger. She had this oddly precise way of talking to him, like she was following a script. That, combined with his quirky speech patterns and the way he completely ignored the other kids on the playground, made me wonder if something was up with Max. It would explain the look of overly anxious love that I saw in her eyes as they followed him all over the park.
Max shot up from the spot where he'd been digging in the dirt and ran to his sister. She grabbed his hand and held on tight, then looked up at me. "You're coming?"
"Lead the way," I told her. Then I looked down at her brother. "Could you please show me how to get to your house?" I asked, mimicking Zoe's carefully precise enunciation. Zoe shot me a grateful look.
"It's this way!" Max crowed, yanking Zoe forward and making us both laugh.
Max led us through a pretty, normal little neighborhood. Zoe and I walked in silence. I didn't know what kept her from talking, but I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I would somehow fuck up and break the connection that sizzled between us. Every nerve ending in my skin was aware of her nearness. She held her brother's hand as he balanced on top of a rock wall, and I wanted so badly to hold her other hand that I could hardly breathe.
Too soon for my liking, Max turned and zoomed up the front walkway of a tidy little rambler that gave off all the signals that a busy, happy family lived inside. I looked around for Zoe's car and saw it parked in the driveway. It was really sweet of her to come by so early.
I smiled as Max ran up to the door and yanked it open. Zoe stood next to me on the sidewalk, looking up at him, but not moving to her car. Not moving at all, as a matter of fact. She stood awkwardly, twisting her fingers.
Understanding was starting to dawn even before Max yelled, "Zo-weeee come inside!"
I looked at her. "You live here too?"
She swallowed and nodded, and looked really embarrassed.
"Hey, smart move," I said, trying to smooth her feelings. "Working, and staying at home, you're probably banking a lot of money right now."
She averted her eyes. "I actually lost my job a year ago. I'm unemployed."
"I thought...." Fuck, had I missed something. "You told me you were a music writer."
She lifted her chin.
"I am."
Shit. Little snippets of memory sounded in my head, of Scarlett talking about how the magazine she used to work for had folded and laid off ninety percent of the workers. I could have kicked myself. "Of course," I said out loud.
Her eyes flashed angrily. "Of course?"
I held up my hands. "No, that came out wrong, I'm just remembering that I knew this."
"You knew it?"
"Yeah, and it's no big deal."
The corners of her mouth tightened. "It's a really big deal."
"I don't think it is."
"That's because you don't have to worry about money."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Do you think I was born the drummer for Ruthless?"
Zoe held up her hand. "Stop. Don't patronize me."
This conversation had taken a sour turn so sharply it was giving me whiplash. "I'm not."
"You don't think you are, but you are. This is real life here."
"Oh, and you think I don't understand real life or something?"
"Well... yeah." Her words started tumbling out fast, like she needed to move faster than her brain to say what needed to be said. "You're a rock star whose face watches me from billboards everywhere I go. I watched you get interviewed on Good Day LA. You have so much money that you can just pay off some people to let us have a whole amphitheater to ourselves." She blinked and turned away. "And I'm just... a girl. I have no job. I live with my parents. I'm living in reality over here. "
"And I'm not?" Anger flashed across my face, quicker than I could steady myself and for a second I hated the fear in her eyes. She didn't know me, no matter the connection I felt, it still wasn't the same connection that came from really knowing and trusting a person. And standing here, yelling at her in her front yard, wasn't going to get me any closer to that trust.
But she'd touched a fucking nerve with that 'living in reality' bullshit. "Do you think I'm some sort of character in your life story?" I asked her, keeping my voice controlled. "I'm a real fucking person, Zoe. I have thoughts and feelings too, you know. I'm not just a face in a magazine. Or your two-dimensional fantasy come to life."
She flushed scarlet. "That's not what I meant."
"Well then tell me what you meant," I pleaded.
"I mean...you're not...this isn't...there's no way that this can be anything else than just a fling. It ends with you going back to your world, and me going back to mine." She yanked out her ponytail and shook her hair so that it fell into a protective curtain around her face and then started up the walkway.
And before I knew what I was doing, I was running to catch up with her.
Even though I agreed with her. Even though I was actively trying to disengage - to tamp down my feelings before they hurt somebody - the fact that she felt the same way really fucking wounded me.
Was I really this hypocritical?
She was doing the exact same thing I was gearing up to do - end this before it could begin - but instead of being relieved, I was pissed.
What did it say about me, that a girl could tell from the very beginning that I'd break her heart? She was holding up a mirror and I didn't like what I saw. Not one bit.
I grabbed her and a startled little gasp fell from her mouth. We were right there on her doorstep, in full view of anyone who happened to be walking by, but I didn't care. "Fuck all of that," I growled. "We live in the same fucking world."
"We don't." She shook her head emphatically, that undone hair falling about her shoulders in a tangle that I just ached to sink my fingers into. She looked so...real. More real than anything else in my life. Her face was a mix of anger and regret, and something else I couldn't identify. She looked like she wanted to say something further. But instead, she turned and pushed her way into her house.
Without meaning to, I found myself stepping into the doorway. She looked around her, alarmed.
I looked around too. If I hadn't felt so wrung out, the sight of the messy, broken in living room would have made me smile.
I had grown up in a house.
This was a home.
This place - with the homey feeling, all the photographs, and knickknacks, the warm smells of cooking, the lived-in look of the couch - was a place where a family lived.
A family who loved each other fiercely.
Something tugged hard at my heart and I felt old hurts trying to close me down. The same old hurts that told me last night that this girl could never understand my life. Nothing had changed...
Except my willingness to ignore them
From the kitchen, I could hear Max singing tunelessly to himself. A thump from upstairs signaled the presence of a parent. It was all so normal in a way I'd never had, that the smile that had been threatening to overtake my face finally caught up to me and I grinned.
Zoe stared at me like I had grown a second head.
"I like your house," I told her. It was the truth, but not the whole truth.
"I live with my parents. It's not mine."
"Yes, it is. This is the place that made you."
I couldn't possibly explain any further without sitting her down on the couch and spilling my whole life story. How I could never commit, because I was already committed to the family I'd built through music. Zoe...Zoe had commitments too, and maybe...maybe that meant we could....
She was staring at me with those big brown eyes and I sheepishly remembered that she couldn't actually read my mind. That all of the revelations that were currently punching me in the gut were not actually audible. She had no idea the storm that was raging under my skin, and there was no way to tell her except....
"Oh!" she cried when I took her face in my hands and kissed her abruptly. I was rougher than I wanted to be but she needed to feel what I couldn't find the words to say.
Her gaze bounced between each of my eyes, as if she was trying to interrogate them each separately, but she didn't pull away.
"Zoe," I breathed. "Fuck being afraid of the ending, okay? Your world, my world, whatever the fuck is separating us, we don't have to let it matter. We can make our own world. There's no way to explain this without sounding like a crazy person, or like I'm quoting Disney or shit, but fuck it. I like you. I like this. Let me be a part of this?" I paused, waited. "Please?"
"Max has autism," she blurted, lifting her chin in a sudden challenge.
I blinked. "Yeah, I figured. He's a cool kid."
Her eyelids fluttered and then suddenly she was kissing me. And I was kissing her back. And then she was laughing and I was laughing. I held this amazing girl tightly in my arms because something nameless and wonderful had just happened. It was nothing we could capture on camera but I knew I'd remember it always just the same.
Chapter 29
Zoe
My mom hated it when I checked my phone at the dinner table, but I couldn't help it. Low had been texting me non-stop, all day. Sometimes funny, sometimes dirty, sometimes just a picture of the same happy smile that mirrored my own.
My heart was so full I could float away like a balloon.
Right as my mother was about to resume the conversation my text chime had interrupted, I got another one. I checked really quickly to see what Low had sent now.
But this one was from the other man in my life.
Jason: Where the hell have you been, bitch?
I blushed and hid my phone under the table.
Me: I'm sorry, I suck really bad. But shit, hooker, I have so much to tell you.
Jason: You'd better have good stories for me after being MIA for so long. When am I going to hear them?
Me: Are you around at all tomorrow?
Jason: Morning. Then I gotta do some nonsense for Bitchface.
Me: I'm most likely going to be taking Max to the park then. Want to meet me there?
Jason: Oh my god I haven't seen the little booger in ages. How old is he now? Is he driving yet?
I laughed and then ducked as my mother stared me down. Quickly, I typed out my reply.
Me: Meet us t
here? I'll send you a text when we're leaving.
"Zoe," my mother chided gently.
"Okay, Okay, I'm done. Sorry Mom." I slid my phone under my thigh and picked up my fork again.
Max had long since abandoned the dinner table for cartoons, but the three adults were still working on the stir-fry.
Greg got up to refill both my mother's and my wine glasses without needing to be asked. He wanted to seem polite, but I couldn't help but note that his move had been strategic. Getting out of the way of my mom before she noticed that he too had his phone out under the table, most likely playing Words with Friends with his golf buddy.
Her lip quirked upward. "Someone special?" she wondered. "You've been out an awful lot these past few weeks."
I knew she wasn't talking about Jason. Her hopeful, prodding tone would have irritated me at any other point.
But today I just really wanted to talk about Low.
How could I explain what had shifted this morning? Why I suddenly trusted him with...everything? Where could I even begin?
Maybe at the beginning. "So, uh, I kinda, maybe started seeing the guy?" I ventured. Greg stepped quickly back into the dining room and sat down. I hid my laugh at his eager nonchalance and went on. "Like about a month or so ago?" Twenty-nine days and five hours I didn't say.
My mom clapped once, then pressed her steepled fingers to her lips, her eyes filling. Greg blinked, then leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "What's his name?"
I took a deep breath, knowing what was coming. "Lowell Stowe."
My mother smiled blankly, but Greg… Greg knew. His eyebrows zoomed upward. "The drummer from Ruthless?"
I nodded.
"Twitch?"
I rolled my eyes. "Greg, has anyone ever told you that you're fifty-two years old? You're supposed to be living in the past and reliving the music of your college years ad nauseam…"
"Nice word," he interjected.
I smiled, "Thanks," then I took a deep breath and shook my head. "I can't believe you know his nickname."
My stepdad looked thoughtful. "That guy's got chops, I'll give him that. That opening solo on Basic Desires is pretty technically flawless."
"Um, I just told you I'm dating him. Aren't you interested in whether he treats me right?"
