“It does to me. Kieran, tell me what he said.”
Kieran looked embarrassed. Memphis pulled off the freeway and drove in silence until she found a parking lot. She pulled in, turned off the engine, and turned to Kieran.
“Please tell me what he said to you.”
“He made a comment about not having ever dated a fat girl before.” Kieran sounded so hurt.
“Son of a bitch!” Memphis growled, her mouth set in a line of disgust.
“Memphis… It’s okay.”
“Like fucking hell it is!” Memphis shook her head, her expression one Kieran didn’t understand.
“He’s right though,” Kieran said.
“He’s not right, Kieran! Fucking men have no concept of what a healthy woman should look like. They’re so fucking hung up on those fucking sticks on TV, and that’s not reality! Do you know who creates fashion, Kier? Men! Gay men who like to make women look like fucking thirteen-year-old boys! And people wonder why women have so many fucking eating disorders, trying to be something they’re never going to be.”
Kieran winced at the vehemence in Memphis’ voice.
“I’m sorry…” Memphis said, taking both of Kieran’s hands in hers. “I didn’t know he was that kind of asshole.”
“Memphis, it’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, that’s where you’re wrong, Kier,” Memphis said, her expression full of self-disgust.
“What do you mean?”
Memphis sighed. “I need to tell you something.”
“What?” Kieran’s eyes searched Memphis’.
“Do you remember the night you started talking to Oliver?”
Kieran looked confused. “Yes.”
“Do you remember the conversation?”
Kieran looked pensive. “I remember that there was a man in the forum who was being rude and Oliver shut him down.”
Memphis nodded. “Yeah… well, it wasn’t Oliver. It was me.”
Kieran frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Again Memphis sighed. “Damn, this is harder than I expected it to be. I had just gotten back from the tour on a break, and Oliver was chatting in the forum. He was trying to get your attention. He asked me to help him, because I ‘know girls,’” she said, doing air quotes with her fingers. “So that’s what I did.”
“So you were chatting as him.”
Memphis nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well, I guess that’s a compliment that he wanted to get my attention so much.”
“Yeah…” Memphis said. “There’s more though.”
“Okay…”
Memphis got out of the car, pulling her cigarettes out of her jacket pocket and lighting one. She moved to sit on the hood. Kieran got out and walked to the front of the car, waiting for Memphis to tell her what “more” was.
“Before I left to go back to the tour, he was worried about not being able to keep you interested in him. So he asked me to sign on as him every so often to chat with you as him.”
Kieran looked back at her, her mouth hanging slightly open in shock. “So… you continued to chat with me as him?”
“Yes. Not all the time, but just when he wasn’t around.”
Kieran looked at her for a long moment, remembering her thought earlier that day. “You use the words ‘hon’ and ‘honey’ a lot,” she said. “I noticed it today.”
Memphis looked up at her questioningly.
“I realized at one point that Oliver would sometimes use a lot of endearments, other times not so much. I looked it up while I was waiting for BJ Sparks. And there were very specific times when he would use words like ‘hon’ or ‘honey.’ That’s when I was talking to you, wasn’t it?”
Memphis drew in a deep breath and nodded as she expelled it.
“Those were the best conversations, Memphis,” Kieran said, her eyes searching. “When you chatted with me, were you being yourself?”
“No one else I could be.”
“But you weren’t trying to be him?”
“Why would I want to be him? He can’t even chat with a girl by himself.” Memphis looked somewhat horrified by the very thought.
Kieran laughed softly at that. “So technically, at those times I was interested in you, not him.”
Memphis pressed her lips together. She looked like she hadn’t actually considered that.
“Can I ask you a question?” Kieran said.
“Anything.”
“Why did you continue to chat with me?”
Memphis pursed her lips, considering. “I guess because I never imagined that you two would ever meet. I wanted it to be fun for you too, not just for him, you know?”
“Fun?”
“You know, worthwhile, something to look forward to.”
Kieran smiled. “Why did that matter to you?”
“Because I’m the one that got you interested in him. I didn’t want you to get hurt, and I wanted it to be more than just cybersex for you.”
“So you were having a relationship with me for him.”
Memphis smiled. “I guess.”
Kieran nodded. “For you to take the time to do that… when you were on tour no less…”
“Okay, but there’s something else.”
Kieran grinned. “I don’t know that I can take more…”
“Well, this is the worst part,” Memphis said, grimacing.
“Okay…” Kieran looked worried.
“Uh…” Memphis stammered. She really didn’t want to have to admit this, but she knew Kieran had a right to hear it. “Well, you know the first time that you two… um… well… cybered…”
Kieran’s look flickered. “That was you.”
Memphis nodded.
“That was the only time I actually came,” Kieran said softly.
Memphis looked stunned. “Really?”
“I guess Oliver is right—you really ‘know girls,’” she said, smiling.
“I fuckin’ hope so.” Memphis grinned. “Or I’m a really lousy lesbian.”
“Why did you do it?”
Memphis looked pained for a moment. “I saw how much he was pressuring you for sex,” she said with an expression of disgust. “And I knew he’d fuck it up. You said you wanted to, and I was afraid that saying no would make you feel rejected by him.”
Kieran looked back at her with an almost comical look on her face. “So you let me pressure you for sex instead?”
Memphis laughed. “Yeah, I guess you did, you slut.”
Kieran laughed too.
Memphis stood up, looking at Kieran. “I’m really sorry, Kier,” she said, her expression backing up what she was saying. “I really never thought you two would meet, but when I saw that you were talking on the phone at one point a month or so ago, I stepped away. I was hoping you two would at least… I don’t know… be friends or something.”
“Can I ask you something?” Kieran said.
Memphis smiled softly. “Of course.”
Kieran looked at her pointedly. “That sound file I made, that first time…”
Memphis pressed her lips together and nodded.
“That wasn’t his email address, was it?”
“No.” Memphis shook her head. “It was mine. He didn’t deserve it.”
“You’re right, he didn’t. Did you listen to it?”
Memphis pursed her lips, looking circumspect, but then she nodded.
“And?”
“It was…” Memphis grinned, embarrassed. “It was good.”
“Do you still listen to it?”
Memphis shook her head. “No, not after that first time. But I locked it and password protected it so no one could get to it.”
“But you still have it?”
“No. Actually, I deleted it at the same time I deleted his Messenger account from my phone.”
“Why? I mean, if you liked it…”
Memphis looked at her for a long moment, then shook her head. “Because you weren’t coming for me. You were doing it for him.
”
“Which was really for you, because of your words.”
“But you didn’t know that.”
Kieran shook her head, astounded at the way Memphis thought.
They got back into the car a little while later and talked about other things, but Kieran continued to think about what Memphis had said all night. She also started looking back at their conversations over the time she’d been chatting with Oliver. Knowing what she did now, she could easily pick out the conversations with Memphis and realized that she should have seen it. The way they chatted was different. Memphis tended to spell and punctuate correctly, as well as use bigger words than Oliver did, like “visceral.” In one way it depressed her that she’d come to America to be with someone who’d been essentially lying to her all along, but in another sense she was glad, because she’d gotten to meet Memphis.
The problem was that now she was in America and had no idea what was going to happen. Whereas Oliver had offered a relationship, Memphis had never made such an offer, and still hadn’t even with her admissions. Of course, Oliver’s version of a relationship thus far had been getting her to have sex and basically acting like she’d lied to him with her picture. She found it rather ironic, him acting like she’d lied, when in truth half of everything she’d thought he was, was a lie.
Chapter 4
Oliver arrived home late on Friday morning. The first sign of trouble was that Memphis was out in the backyard smoking, and she was listening to pure rock music, dark, angry stuff, which usually meant she was in a bad mood. He realized later that he should have taken that seriously and stayed away from her. The problem was, he hadn’t been ready to face Kieran again yet either.
“Hey,” he said as he walked outside.
Memphis turned her head, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Not real happy with you right now,” she said quietly.
“It was a business trip. I’m sorry, but I did tell you she’d be here.”
“You didn’t notice that I didn’t respond?” Memphis asked, her look pointed.
“I just figured you were still… you know…dealing with the other thing.” Oliver was stammering a bit; he didn’t want to piss her off again.
“About that—why did you give her my number?”
Oliver looked back at her for a long moment. He knew he was screwed either way. He’d taken the coward’s way out, and he knew it. He had no idea how to deal with a broken Memphis; it wasn’t what he was used to.
He shrugged. “I just figured you’d be more comfortable talking to another girl.”
Memphis turned to look at him. “You thought I’d be more comfortable talking to your straight girlfriend about a gay hate crime? Really, Oliver?” she said, her voice dripping with the derision that was reflected in her eyes.
“Well, you wouldn’t talk to me, and it sounds like you talked to her a little bit, at least.”
Memphis’ lips twitched. “So it had nothing to do with wanting her and me to become close? You know, before you got her to come here from England?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Oliver said, more sharply than he meant to. He knew it made him sound guilty.
Memphis heard it. Her expression darkened significantly. “Did you imagine some kind of threesome, Oliver? Huh?” she said, her voice full of disgust.
“What are you talking about?” But he wouldn’t meet her eyes, and Memphis shook her head slowly.
“Is that why you wanted me to chat with her too? Huh?” she said, her voice cracking slightly.
“No!” Oliver finally looked her in the eye. “No, Memphis. Jesus! I know you hate men and all, but we’re not always angling to get into your fucking pants!”
Memphis didn’t respond. She sat back, her expression closed off. They sat in silence for a while. Oliver didn’t like it when Memphis was quiet—it was disconcerting.
“Why’d you tell her she’s fat?” Memphis said, surprising him again.
“I…” he stammered, starting to deny it, or at least say that he hadn’t said it that directly, but he saw Memphis’ eyes narrow dangerously. “Well, you gotta admit, she doesn’t look like her picture.”
Memphis turned her head slowly to look at him, disgust in her blue eyes. “And you think you’re some kind of prize?”
Oliver looked at his best friend for a long moment; he knew he’d fucked up. She was deadly serious when it came to the way he treated women, and he knew he’d been stupid in how he’d talked to Kieran.
“I was just surprised,” he said, putting his hand on the table between them and starting to pick at the peeling paint.
“And you thought you should talk to her like you did? What? Did you think ’cause you’re American and she’s not, it’s okay? She’s a fucking human being, you dumb motherfucker, and you hurt her feelings! Do you get that? Now she thinks there’s something wrong with her! Do you fucking understand how hard that is on a woman? No, you don’t fucking get it, do you? Why? ’Cause you’re a fucking man, you don’t have to get it, you just get to sit in judgment of women’s bodies, like you’re some fucking god or something!”
“Jesus, Memphis, I’m sorry, okay? Why is this pissing you off so much?”
“Because you got me to make her like you, you dumb fuck!” Memphis spat. “And now I find out what a fucking prick you are. Really?”
“Just because I don’t like fat girls…” Oliver said derisively.
He was stunned when Memphis jumped up, dropping her cigarette, and smacked him hard across the face.
“You need to get the fuck away from me right now,” she said, her voice low and threatening, her eyes blazing with fury.
Oliver sat staring at her with shock written all over his face. He would never have believed she could hit that hard, and he decided he was probably lucky she’d hit him with an open hand instead of a closed fist.
“I mean it, Oliver. Get out,” Memphis ground out, the muscles in her jaw jumping as she gritted her teeth to try and reign in her temper.
Oliver got up and went back into the house. Turning, he saw Kieran standing there; she’d heard Memphis’ raised voice.
“Hi,” he said, looking at her hesitantly.
“What happened?” Kieran gestured to the red mark on his cheek.
Oliver turned to look in the mirror over the fireplace. There was indeed a nasty mark on his face. He shook his head ruefully.
“Just Memphis reeducating me on how to talk to women,” he said lightly, then looked over at her. “Or in this case, how not to.”
Kieran looked back at him hesitantly.
“So that,” she said, pointing at his cheek, “was about me?”
“Well, it was about my big mouth.”
Kieran nodded slowly, her eyes going to Memphis in the backyard. She saw that she was smoking and her head was moving to very loud angry metal music playing on the Bose out there. She couldn’t help but feel grateful to Memphis for her anger at Oliver’s treatment of her; she was shocked that it had taken a physically violent form, however.
“Kieran,” Oliver said, walking over and looking down at her. “I’m sorry I said the things I did. It was… stupid.”
“And mean,” Kieran said, her look pointed.
Oliver nodded. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”
Kieran looked at him and remembered that all of the mature, sensitive things that she’d ascribed to him had been Memphis. She wondered if he was now only contrite because Memphis had laid into him. She was inclined to think that was the case, because she’d heard what Memphis had said to him. The bedroom she was staying in was above the patio and the window had been open. She’d heard all but the last couple of statements, and had certainly heard Memphis’ diatribe about men.
A moment later, Memphis strode into the house, past both of them, and straight upstairs. She slammed her door behind her. The sound of retching could be heard moments later, but then music came on and drowned it out. Oliver grimaced.
“What was that?” Kieran said. She was sure
she knew but wanted to ask.
“When she gets really tense, too tense, she throws up,” Oliver said. “It’s been happening a lot more lately.”
Kieran looked worried. “I’m going to go check on her.”
“Not a good idea.”
“Why?”
“She doesn’t like to be… handled.”
Kieran looked back at him, trying to discern what he meant. Shaking her head, she decided she was going to try anyway. She walked upstairs and knocked lightly on Memphis’ door, then realized there was no way the other woman could hear her. She waited until one song ended and, before another could begin, knocked again. Opening the door cautiously, she looked into the room.
“Memphis?”
If Memphis answered, Kieran couldn’t tell. She walked into the room and on through to the bathroom. She saw Memphis sitting on the floor next to the toilet, her knees up to her chest, her arms folded on her knees, and her head down on her arms. Kieran sat down on the floor next to her, putting her hand to Memphis’ back. She felt her jump in surprise, but Memphis didn’t lift her head.
“It’s just me,” Kieran said softly.
“Kier…” Memphis began, her voice stern.
“Shhh,” Kieran murmured, rubbing her hand gently over Memphis’ back. “It’s okay… I’m just going to sit here with you.”
They sat that way for a while. Finally Memphis rubbed her face against her arms and turned her head, one blue eye open, to look at Kieran. “He tell you what happened?”
“He didn’t need to. I saw the mark on his face,” Kieran said, looking searchingly into Memphis’ eyes.
“He pissed me off.”
“Well, I hope that was pissed off,” Kieran said with a grin as she moved to stand, putting her hand out to Memphis to help her up off the floor. “Otherwise, I’d be really worried.”
“That’s nothing,” Memphis said, her expression tired.
“Now I’m worried,” Kieran said, humor in her voice. She walked Memphis over to the bed and moved to lay her down on it.
She caught Memphis’ quick grin even as she rolled to her side, extending her arms out in front of her. Kieran walked around the bed, climbing onto it to sit facing Memphis, brushing a lock of blue-tipped white-blond hair off her forehead. She noticed Memphis smiling softly, even as her eyes slowly closed.
In Plain Sight (WeHo Book 11) Page 8
