Pieces of it All

by Tracy Krimmer

  A run in with him this morning would've been a disaster. Shit, once his father saw he guzzled every last drop of booze, all hell was going to break loose. He was fucked. Big time. It made no difference right now. He had to get to work or he'd be fucked there, too. He sat up in bed and looked down. Jeans and a Theory of a Deadman shirt. Nelson would deal with the pants, but not the tee. He quickly changed to a plain black polo shirt, and headed out the door, not even bothering to brush his teeth.

  The sun blinded him as he stumbled to his car. He fumbled through his glove compartment, dropping papers and other items on the floor. "Gotcha!" he proudly said as he slid the dark glasses on. He reminded himself to drive carefully, and not too slowly, as he pulled out of the driveway. He couldn't afford a ticket or drunk driving arrest. Through the years, he'd gotten pretty good at handling a car after drinking. While he'd fallen off the wagon, what he drank in the morning didn't come close in comparison to his limit. If he kept his cool, it'd be a breeze.

  The drive took five minutes longer than usual, but Harvey managed to arrive without police presence and with the car in one piece. The heavy brakes almost caused him to bump his head into the steering wheel. "Damn straight parking," he complained as he landed in a spot.

  Nelson met him at the door. "Harvey, you have to move your car. You can't park like that."

  He glanced back at his car, almost tipping over. He was in between the lines, sort of, so who cared? "Looks fine to me."

  Nelson waved his finger. "You're taking up two spots the way you're parked. Park on the angle like you're supposed to. Then get to work, please."

  He grunted, but obliged, adding Nelson to his shit list. Beth, Sue and Nelson. The list kept getting longer.

  Harvey and Nelson were the only ones working, so he handled both the stocking and the counter. Sure, he could keep his cool in the front of the store. He wasn't piss drunk, just a little tipsy. A few more hours and he'd have found himself in a state of oblivion, Beth furthest from his mind. This fucking buzz was, well, a buzz kill. The damn shit hadn't done its job. At least he'd be able to hold himself together for any shoppers. He wasn't so blasted anyone would take obvious notice. Stocking shelves was easy if he used two hands to pick up the items and place them on the shelf. If customers kept their fucking chatting to a minimum, he'd handle cashiering fine, too.

  The morning moved along smoothly with Nelson busy in his office and keeping his nose out of Harvey's business. His buzz started to wear off, but a headache wasn't far behind. He'd make do. He always did. A little aspirin and maybe he'd offset the forthcoming headache. Nelson had to have some. As he turned to check with him, the bouncy, middle-aged woman stormed into the store in a not so bouncy mood.

  "Harvey! Where have you been?" Sue yelled as she swung open the door.

  "Whoa! Slow down, lady." Harvey held his hands up in the air. What the fuck was she doing here?

  She stomped to the counter, her keys wrapped in her fist. "Don't you dare. Where's the music box? I know Beth talked to you. I expected it yesterday."

  He belched. "After she dumped me, I got a little preoccupied." Did she break up with him? He tore out of the parking lot after she walked off on him, and hadn't heard a word since. What a cunt to leave him high and dry. So what if he didn't want to give her enough information about his life for her to write a biography?

  Sue reached over the counter and Harvey flinched back. "That's not my problem." She sniffed the air. "Are you drunk, Harvey?"

  He didn't hear her until she asked a second time. She put her hand out toward him to grab him by the shirt. Her sleeve stopped at the elbow, exposing her forearm. The charm bracelet dangled. He stared at it until her wrist became a blur. Finally, Sue snapped her fingers. "Hello? Harvey, answer me. Are you drunk?"

  His eyes never left the bracelet. "Where did you get that?"

  "This?" She rattled her arm. "From an old friend." She pulled back as he reached for it. "What the hell? You want to steal this, too?"

  "Is everything okay out here?" Nelson approached the counter.

  "No, for fuck's sake. I just ... recognize it." The charm bracelet seemed so familiar he could almost feel it on his own skin. The baby bottle, the spoon, the mother holding a child. He'd seen this before. The one in the picture looked like this one. They had to be the same.

  She slapped her hand on the counter. "Bring me the music box. Today." She turned and left Harvey staring at the door, the deja vu crashing into him like the nausea which hit moments before.

  "Harvey?" Nelson asked, still awaiting an explanation.

  Unable to speak, he stood as the memory seeped into his brain, taking his breath out of his body. Without even acknowledging his boss, he raced out of the store and back home. He left the car door open as he sprinted into the house to his bedroom. He ripped clothes out of the closet, threw books on the floor, until he finally found the shoe box. His hands shook as he lifted the cover off. He fumbled through the items until he reached the picture. The lady holding him with the wide smile, arms wrapped around Harvey. He held the photo close to his face to see the charm bracelet on her wrist.

  An exact match. He'd been right.

  Harvey touched his hand to his forehead, trying to figure out where the loud noise came from. He didn't recall in recent memory his head throbbing like this, and the rapid buzzing got louder by the second. Cans hit the floor as he swung his legs off the bed. Beer cans? How did those end up there? He smacked his lips together, racking his pounding brain. He ran out, drinking the last can before work. Harvey assumed by the darkness it was probably after nine. A spinning room accompanied the hammering in his head, vertigo which had become all too familiar. He barely got to the bathroom before losing every drop of alcohol inside.

  Five minutes passed before finally being able to get himself up and back into the bedroom. The last time he threw up like that had been before rehab, at least. The buzzing transformed into a beep. Voice mail. Once it occurred to him Beth may have been trying to call, he grabbed the phone off the floor. "Shit." He said as he played back the message. Nelson. A very unhappy Nelson.

  "This is the sixth time I've tried calling. It's inexcusable to walk out on your job. I'm not sure what happened or why you left, but don't bother coming back. Maggie already is aware of this. I'll mail your last check."

  Shit! Shit! Shit! He tossed his cell onto the bed. "Fuck!" He pushed his finger onto his forehead in regret of the yell. Not a good idea. His room looked as though he either had been robbed, or he threw a wild party. Clothes piled next to his closet, drawers half hung from their hinges, and beer cans cluttered the floor. When he saw the picture sitting on the table beside his bed, he remembered what happened.

  After he ran out of the store, he raced to buy more alcohol and drank all afternoon. Years of wondering and searching and everything laid in that charm bracelet. She had been just miles away. His girlfriend's aunt. Ex-girlfriend, anyway. He had so much to fix. Should he go confront Sue first, or plead for Beth's forgiveness? Too drunk to visit either, he settled on a text to Beth. Maybe she'd meet him again, and he'd be sure to remain calm, after he sobered up.

  Harvey clicked on his Messages icon. His heart sank at the first block of messages on his phone. "Oh, no." He scrolled through the unbelievable history.

  Baby, I'm sorry.

  Please forgive me.

  Why won't you respond to me?

  Let's make love again.

  Come over and we'll fuck.

  Beth! I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that.

  The last text was a bunch of letters strung together. No responses, either, and he couldn't blame her. "Asshole!" Never before did he ever feel like such a loser. He'd deal with this later. Winning Beth back was going to be a tough game, but first he had to talk with Sue. A good night's sleep would sober him up, and then he'd put the final pieces of the puzzle together making up his fucked up life.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Campus resided only a short drive from the apartment or ab
out a ten minute walk. Beth already looked forward to crisp walks in the fall, the leaves crunching beneath her feet. The campus nestled itself into the city like its own little community. Beth had been near the college, and visited a few times while looking at universities, but now she had a chance to enjoy all it offered without a different agenda. A surprising number of students occupied the area, some already studying! She hoped college wasn't a non-stop study fest. She spent so many years focusing on school, she secretly wished for down time, opportunities to enjoy the entire experience.

  Heather first showed her the English building, which led them into the library, conveniently attached via a long corridor. The floor-to-ceiling walls of books put any library she'd visited prior to shame. The never-ending aisles displayed more publications than she could ever read, and reaching the hardcovers on top required a ladder. Between each section of materials a row of tables were provided for students, most already being put to use. Wooden floors peeked through multi-patterned rugs, and musty books filled the shelves. Beth leaned her head back to capture the enormity of the cream ceiling, the crown molding boasting an elegant design of lines.

  "This is incredible," she whispered, already making the library her go-to place.

  "College is like an entirely different world coming from our little town." She pointed to a few doors to the back. "Those are small study rooms, in case you need to get away from people. They have to be reserved ahead of time."

  As they circled around to the front of the building, Heather suggested they go to the gym next. "It's right by the cafeteria, and the rest of the buildings are pretty much the same as the English one. We'll get a map with our registration packets, anyway, and after you wander around for a while, you'll find your way without a problem."

  "Heather, this is more like an arena than a gym," Beth said as they arrived. The building stood two stories tall and demanded its own street. Set off from the road by a fair amount of grass with sidewalks running between, it reminded Beth of the White House with its large, white pillars overpowering the space. Windows ran the span of the entire building, a staircase on either side.

  "Pretty much," Heather agreed as they hopped up the stairs, dropping them off into a ticket area. "It runs close to two city blocks. Parking is in the back."

  She stumbled over a step in the entryway as they entered the main hall of the gym. A huge corridor ran the length of the building, making way for other large hallways. "You can close your mouth, Beth," Heather said as they started to walk down the hall.

  Sports were never an interest, so during her original tour, she never even peeked in this part. Campus visits brought so many questions about the academia, she put her priorities with those instead of the actual facilities. Heck, she didn't even recall how enormous the library was, much to her surprise.

  "Down this hall is the basketball court," Heather pointed to the left, squeaking sneakers echoing in the large building. "To your right is the fitness room, which you can access twenty-four-seven. It gets pretty busy." At the end of the hall, stairs led downstairs. "Let's check out the swimming pool, my favorite place around here."

  Beth's hand moved down the banister as she stepped slowly, taking in every moment of the experience. Chlorine attacked her nose when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

  "The pool is open a few times a week for open swim. Otherwise only the swim team uses it for practice. Spectators are always welcome, though. I like to come and watch," she smiled as she pulled open one of the glass doors.

  Eight lanes of shimmering water flowed beyond the tile floor. Championship flags hung from the rafters, slightly covering the massive windows. Spectator seating outlined the extensive pool, currently minimal in bodies. "These seats are full during meets." She led Beth to the second row of bleachers. "Let's hang out for a bit," she suggested. "My legs could use a break before we go eat."

  It was nearing five-thirty already but she didn't even feel hungry while she toured her newfound freedom. Since Heather had now mentioned food, her stomach growled.

  They watched the men's swim team as they sprung off their starting boards into the pool, some doing the backstroke, others freestyle. No wonder this school had all-star swim athletes. Their arms sliced through the water effortlessly, their bodies moving as though they were fish.

  Beth kept her eye on lane five. Something about him looked familiar. She had seen him somewhere before. "Heather," she leaned over. "I recognize the guy in the fifth lane."

  She lifted off the bleachers slightly. "Mark Collins. Where do you think you know him from?"

  "I'm not sure." She picked her brain, but couldn't figure it out. "He didn't go to high school with us, or middle school. How do you know him?"

  "Our parents are good friends. He's from Bayfield." The town was located right next to Beth's.

  She pressed her thumb to her chin. "I just can't place him."

  He hopped out of the pool, water pouring off his back and soaking the ground beneath him. His ass was the reason for Speedos. A surge of disappointment came over Beth as Mark grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. Then he turned around.

  His broad shoulders gave way to his pecks, boulders outlined perfectly on his body. A simple tattoo of a small wave splashed in blue caught her eye. The color exploded off his arm, a pair of red goggles inked around the crest. In her mind she was already running her fingers down his chest to the smooth canvas displaying perfectly toned abs. That damn towel halted her from imprinting his entire body into her brain.

  He shook his head and rubbed his hand back and forth against the fuzz on top. With one hand on the towel, he waved to Beth using the free one. In slow motion, Beth smiled and waved back.

  "He was waving at me, silly," Heather playfully punched her in the shoulder.

  "Oh gosh, he's coming over here," Beth said. Her stomach twirled, the butterflies racing through her body. What should she say? God, he was cute.

  "Hey Mark!" Heather greeted him as they both stood up. "You're looking strong out there."

  "Thanks." He studied Beth. "Have we met?" He pulled at his ear lobes, water still trickling down his face.

  He recognized her too! Okay, where would she have seen him? Not the bowling alley. She didn't go to any school sporting events, so that was out of the question. "It's driving me crazy. I'm sure I've seen you somewhere."

  "I'm Mark." He held his right hand out to hers and kept his towel in place with the left.

  "I'm Beth." Drop the towel, she thought hoping he could read her mind. Drop the damn towel. Something about those eyes. They've scanned hers before, met hers with concern. Where? When?

  He snapped his fingers. "Got it! At the park the other day. That guy was with you - the jerky one."

  Her face flushed with embarrassment. Not only was he standing in front of her, dripping wet, in just a Speedo and a towel, but he remembered her from one of the worst days of her life. Not the best first impression, with Harvey being so stern and rude. He had much more hair a few days ago. The shaved head gave him such a different appearance.

  "Guy? What guy?" Heather asked, grabbing Beth's arm. "There's a guy?"

  She looked down at the floor. "Was a guy. Harvey."

  "Harvey. I didn't catch his name. You took off pretty fast. Is everything better now?" He asked, those concerned eyes returning.

  Loaded question. Yes, better in the sense of being miles away from the guy she gave her virginity to while he tore her into pieces with lies. "Yeah. I'm fine."

  He nodded his head, accepting the answer. She didn't want to get into the details, so thankfully he didn't ask. "Are you visiting Heather?"

  "Nope," Heather jumped in. "She's going to school here and is living with me off campus." She turned her attention to Beth. "Mark's in his second year."

  "Oh, really? What are you studying?"

  "Haven't decided yet. I suppose I should pick a major soon. Right now I'm focusing on my general classes." His eyes moved to the clock. "I'm feeling a little, um, naked
standing here. If you guys give me a minute to get changed, we can grab something. Sound good?"

  She'd rather he went to dinner in the towel. Her stomach growled again; she had to eat. Mark seemed nice, but she really wanted to catch up with Heather. They hadn't seen each other since graduation. She took too long to express her thoughts as Heather replied, "Definitely. We'll just wait outside the building for you."

  "Can't wait," he winked at Beth as he rushed into the locker room.

  She released a deep breath and pretended to have a fan in her hand to cool herself down. "He's quite the looker. Not sure I want to have dinner with him, though. Not tonight, at least. I thought we were going to hang out."

  "What's the big deal? We're living together, Beth. We'll get to hang out all the damn time."

  Point taken. After dinner, they could catch up at home. And talk more about Mark. "You're right."

  "Of course I'm right!" Beth lurched forward as Heather took her by the arm. "Let's go. He won't take long getting dressed." They backtracked the same way they came. "I think he's into you."

  Beth stopped halfway up the steps. "Into me?"

  "Yes, into you. Girl, he was checking you out. I know you wanted to glance underneath his towel."

  Two girls passed them. How embarrassing. Beth hoped they didn't hear what Heather said, even though it may have been true." He's not even my type." Was that true? She never thought of herself having a type, but a gorgeous swimmer whose body did circles around Michael Phelps would never consider Beth his type.

  Heather waved Beth up the stairs. "Hot is everyone's type. First, tell me about this Harvey guy. Is this the same Harvey who acted like such an asshole to me at your party?"

  The linked their arms together and slowed their pace when they reached the top of the stairs. "He's not an asshole. Well, maybe he is. Anyway, yeah, same guy."