by Harley Stone
“He shit in the back yard while you were with Julia. It’s to the left of the porch,” Monica told me.
Of course he did. I glared at the guilty pooper—who was curled up on his doggie bed—but he looked away. It took everything in me to push myself up off the floor and retrieve the poop bags, but I did it.
“And don’t think you’re getting out of telling me what happened between you and Bull last night,” Monica added as I headed for the back door.
By the time I cleaned up Brahma’s mess and fed him, Bull was off work. He called me, sounding every bit as exhausted as I felt. Since I had to be up early in the morning to start my apprenticeship, we both decided to call it a night early. I missed him, but I needed sleep. I ate, dodged Monica’s questions about my relationship with Bull, and then took Brahma out again before we went upstairs and passed out.
“I’ve never been in an adult relationship before. It’s weird,” I told Monica. We were sitting at the kitchen table, it was Wednesday, and the first few days of my apprenticeship had passed in a blur of introductions, paperwork, and policies and procedures manuals. It felt a lot like being back in school. The newness was wearing off, and my time and attention were focusing back on Bull. I hadn’t seen him since Saturday night—well, early Sunday morning—and I missed him. A lot. Between my early mornings and his swing-shifts, our work schedule was out of whack, and we hadn’t been able to connect in person. We texted and talked on the phone every day, but it wasn’t the same.
Monica arched an eyebrow at me. “Never? When was your last relationship?”
“High school. It was so different. We saw each other every day at school and hung out on the weekends, no real responsibilities keeping us apart. You know?”
“Ah. High school. To be honest, I don’t even remember it.”
I didn’t buy that for a minute. “You’re not that old.”
“Oh, I know. But I took a lot of advanced classes and volunteered at a hangar. I was busy workin’ on my future and didn’t really buy in to the high school experience.”
I did. High school was fun for me. Classes, dances, spirit week, football and basketball games, I’d enjoyed being part of it all. I didn’t have much, but I had Grandma. We had a warm, safe home, and the cupboards were never bare. Looking back, I realized I’d taken that all for granted until Grandma passed away. Shortly after, the bank foreclosed on the house and reality smacked me right upside the head.
Barely eighteen, fresh out of high school, mourning Grandma’s death, with less than a thousand dollars to my name saved up from babysitting and my after-school waitressing job, I didn’t have many options. I could have probably stayed and rented a room from a friend’s parents, but my dad’s greedy ass had come sniffing around for a life insurance policy, certain he was entitled to more, but Grandma didn’t have anything to leave behind. He’d taken everything she had already.
With Grandma gone, there was nothing left for me in Georgia. Needing to get out of there, I hopped a bus and rode it until the end of the line. Seattle was home now.
Over the years, Monica had dragged all that information out of me, but apparently, we’d never talked about my past relationships. “The last guy I dated—Luke—was a world-class douche bag. But he was hot. Wavy, blond hair that he kept a little long and shaggy, and beautiful blue eyes. He was only about five-foot-ten, but he was a wrestler. Worked out a lot and had a nice body. His dad owned the Ford dealership, and they lived in a big house on the good side of the railroad tracks. When he took an interest in little ol’ me, I was so excited I about lost my mind. Didn’t take much for him to convince me to sneak off campus with him. I lost my virginity in the backseat of his Mustang.”
“Lily!” Monica gasped, sounding positively scandalized.
“What?”
“The back seat of a car? Seriously? That’s so cliché.”
“It’s not like it was some beater. Metallic blue, five-point-oh engine, leather seats, my clothes practically melted off.”
She chuckled. “I can’t believe you.”
“Yeah? Well, Luke was smooth. Knew what he was doin.’ He took me to this secluded spot beside the Chattahoochee. It was beautiful and I felt special and treasured. He could have had any girl in that school, and he chose me.”
“To fuck him in a car. Yay, you. Lil, that’s not how treasure should be treated.”
“Why so judgy?” I asked. “Haven’t you ever gone mad with lust and ripped someone’s clothes off in the back seat before?”
Monica leveled a look at me. “Queens do not fuck in vehicles.”
“At all?” Surely some cars had to be acceptable. “What about a Lambo or something equally as expensive and flashy?”
Her forehead wrinkled as she thought about it for a second. “Too cramped. I gotta stretch out and get my cardio on. It’s all about multi-tasking. If I can get a few orgasms and a good workout… shit. I’m all about that.”
I laughed. “Okay, something bigger? Maybe a Hummer?”
“Tempting, but no. Okay, I’d be willing to get freaky in one of those decked out tour busses. Or a luxury camp trailer if Stocks ever manages to drag me camping.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s called glamping. Glamor camping. It’s not real camping.”
“It’s the only camping you’ll ever see me do.” She shrugged. “Regardless, sex in a Mustang is out.”
“Well, it only happened once,” I defended. “The school called Grandma and told her I ditched my afternoon classes, and she was waiting for us when Luke dropped me off. She made such a scene, he never so much as looked at me again. God, I was angry with her. Thought she ruined my senior year and my one chance at true love. But it turned out Luke wasn’t the amazing catch I thought he was. While we were supposedly dating, the bastard knocked up one of the cheerleaders. I bet he even took her to our spot to do it. Come to think of it, I probably should have taken a black light to the backseat of his ’stang. Bet it could have told me all I needed to know about the womanizing asshole.”
“Please tell me you ripped off his balls and fed them to him.”
I chuckled. “Nope. I left that privilege to the parents of the cheerleader. They took Luke to court and nailed him with child support. Eighteen years of garnished wages should teach him for being a cheating piece of shit.”
“And they say there’s no justice in the world.” Monica rubbed her forehead. “I do feel bad for the girl, and the child, though. Nobody should have to be conceived by a couple of high schoolers in the back seat of a car. You were lucky to get out of that mess. Your grandma sounds like a solid judge of character.”
My fingers instinctively went to the necklace hiding under my T-shirt. “She was. I wish she was here now. She’d love Bull.”
Monica smiled. “I bet she would. How are things between the two of you?”
I knew kissing and telling broke some cardinal rule of relationships, but there was no keeping anything from Monica. I’d held out until Tuesday after work, but she’d eventually broken down my walls and made me spill my guts. “We’re still texting and calling, but I miss him. It’s hard working different shifts and days. I wish we didn’t have all these stupid adult responsibilities so we could go find a peaceful spot beside a river and—”
“You are not to fuck in a car again.”
“He doesn’t even own a car, and I really doubt we could do it on his bike. That just seems like a recipe for disaster.”
Monica stared at me for a few seconds, and then we both busted up laughing. I didn’t know what she was picturing, but I could imagine me and Bull trying to get busy on his bike only to roll off and crack our heads open or break an arm or something. Then the entire club would know we’d failed at bike sex. We’d never hear the end of it.
Once our laughter died down, Monica asked, “You worried about him icing you out again?”
I thought about it. “No. He told me he loves me, and I believe him. He pushed me away because he was trying to protect me. Now, he knows
I’m all in, and that any efforts to thwart me will result in his untimely demise.”
“That’s my girl.” Her proud smile warmed me. Some girls bonded over shopping trips and pedicures. Monica and I bonded over jokes about death threats and stabbing techniques. There wasn’t a single person in the world I’d rather have in my corner, and as much as I pretended to hate her prying, I appreciated her nosy-ass self.
“I still can’t believe you punched his v-card,” Monica said. “I didn’t even know there were virgin sailors. Fucked up my entire world view.”
“Yeah, it surprised the hell out of me, too. I mean, look at him.” I was sure Bull had plenty of offers for sex, but he was a good guy. He’d stayed faithful to Amber even after her death.
“Gotta say, the ex’s suicide makes a lot more sense,” Monica said. “Can you imagine saving yourself like that and then some asshole rips it all away? She had all these hopes and dreams of this perfect life, and he… he must have shattered her.”
Monica could relate. Her Air Force fighter pilot career had been stolen by a sleeping trucker. All her hard work and training gone instantly, her life forever changed. She didn’t talk much about the days afterward, but she’d had multiple surgeries that had barely saved her life. Her parents were afraid she was going to give up, so they’d called in Naomi and Stocks. The two of them had kidnapped Monica and brought her to Seattle, where they forced her to remember she was a queen.
“But you didn’t give up,” I pointed out.
“Oh, I wanted to. Trust me. But Naomi… she’s a force to be reckoned with. Everyone needs the kind of friend who’s unafraid to kick your ass when you need it. Maybe Amber didn’t feel like she had that.”
That made me sad for the girl. “I still don’t understand why she didn’t reach out to Bull, but I guess we’ll never know.”
“Nope.” Monica smiled at me. “The only thing we can do now is take care of Bull and make sure none of our own feel that crushing hopelessness alone.”
“Deal,” I said, smiling back at her.
14
Bull
I SAT ON my bed with an old shoebox in front of me. It had taken me a half hour—and two beers—to work up the courage to remove the lid. Now the contents mocked me, making me feel like a goddamn chicken for wanting to close the box back up and return it to its spot hidden away on the top of my closet.
No. It’s time.
Drawing in a ragged breath, I reached for the first item. Amber’s last letter, sent just days before her death. I’d received it after I’d gotten out of the brig, and I read it at least a hundred times, searching for clues about her suicide. The folds were worn, making the ink difficult to read in places, but despite not opening the box since I’d arrived in Seattle, I knew the damn thing by heart.
Deryk,
It’s been a while since we’ve connected online, so I wanted to write and check up on you. I miss you, and I’m feeling a little homesick today. Probably because I’ve been studying like crazy for finals. I can’t wait to go home and rest for the summer, but I wish you were going to be there. It’s not the same without you.
James and Molly broke up. She was invited to a party at a frat house and wanted to go. He got upset and they fought. It was super awkward. I swear the entire cafeteria was in on their fight. Molly asked me to go with her to the party, but I don’t know. It’d be nice for the whole college experience, but you know me. Frat parties aren’t really my thing.
How are you?
Where are you?
I miss you.
I should probably get back to studying. Thank God this year is almost over.
Love always,
Amber
I folded the note back up and set it aside, reaching for the stack of photos and letters beneath it. Our senior prom photo, a picture of us at her cousin’s wedding, wrist bands from the county fair, movie tickets from when she dragged my ass to go see The Fault in Our Stars with her, so many memories hidden away in a single shoebox. I took out each one and allowed myself to remember the way things really were.
In my memories, Amber and I were both so immature. I thought about the conversations and dreams we’d shared. Like her mother, Amber was a planner. She’d planned out our wedding, the honeymoon, how many kids we’d have, where we’d live, everything. She lived in the future, and painted me a picture of her goals every chance she got. I never questioned her, disagreed, or offered my opinion, choosing to let her rattle on for years about her perfect life. About the life she wanted to share with me.
But looking back now, I realized we didn’t dream about the same things.
Amber was planning a big-ass formal wedding, complete with tuxes, gowns, and flowers I couldn’t even pronounce. I couldn’t care less if our big event was the talk of the town, but she was hung up on the prospect of making it bigger and better than any ceremony before it. I had no desire to live out my days in Shiner, Texas, but she fantasized about a big yellow house, sandwiched between her parents and mine, planning to pop out one kid after the next. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t opposed to having a couple of kids, but Amber had wanted enough to form her own co-ed softball team. I wanted to travel… to adventure. I didn’t see how we could go anywhere with a whole herd of kids holding us down.
Still, I let her dream.
Now wondering if I’d always known her dreams would never come to fruition, I pulled every last item from the box. At the bottom, was her ring: a simple princess cut diamond for the girl I believed I’d spend the rest of my life with. I slipped it onto the tip of my index finger and looked it over, expecting the pain of losing her to hit me all over again.
It didn’t.
Still sad about her untimely passing, and a little betrayed she hadn’t come to me, my heart no longer felt like it was trying to tear itself out of my chest when I thought of her.
It was time to let Amber go. For real, this time.
Scooping up our memories, I stuffed them back in the box and called my parents.
“Hey, Mom.” I said when she answered. “How are you?”
“I’m good, Deryk. Better now that you called. It’s been too long. We worry when we don’t hear from you.”
The guilt trips Mom tried to take me on every time I called only made me want to reach out to her less, not more. Besides, my cell worked both ways, and she and Dad hadn’t exactly blown up my phone trying to reach me. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time one of them called. These conversations were awkward for all of us, regardless of how she tried to play them off. Still, there wasn’t any way to point that out without sounding like a disrespectful little shit, and I’d been raised better.
“Sorry. You know I don’t mean to worry you,” I said, accepting the blame. “Is Dad there?”
“He’s sitting right here, watching the news. Do you want me to hand him the phone?”
“No. Can you put it on speaker phone so I can talk to you both at the same time?”
“Okay.” Mom sounded different, further away.
“You can both hear me?” I asked. When they both confirmed, I sucked down a deep breath and got right to the reason for my call. “I’m seeing someone.”
Mom didn’t miss a beat. “That’s wonderful, Deryk. What’s her name?”
“Lily. She’s… she’s really great.”
“What’s her family like?” Mom asked.
“She doesn’t know where her parents are. Her grandma raised her, but she died a few years ago.”
“Oh, that’s awful. Poor thing. You should bring her with you for Christmas. We’d love to meet her, wouldn’t we, hon?”
“Yeah. Sure,” Dad said.
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” I said.
I could hear the news anchor still blabbing in the background, and knew I only had a sliver of my father’s attention. Like usual. I had to figure out a way to get his ear so I could adequately explain the situation and make sure they didn’t want to rescind Lily’s invitation. Opening the
drawer of my nightstand, I removed a strip of pictures from the mall photo booth she’d dragged me into during one of our many shopping trips. I always pretended to hate hitting the mall with her, but truthfully, Lily made everything fun. I’d purchased the goofy photos and stashed them in my nightstand, and was damn glad I had. Lily’s smiling face had gotten me through a lot of lonely nights and difficult mornings. Using my phone, I snapped a picture of the photo strip and sent it to Mom.
“Why wouldn’t it be a good idea, Deryk? Nobody should have to be alone for the holidays,” Mom said.
She had me there. Still, I needed Mom to know what we would be dealing with. I could try to explain, but some things were easier shown than told. “I just sent you a picture of Lily.”
“You know we don’t care what she looks like,” Mom huffed. “It’s what’s on the inside that counts.”
I wondered what Mom expected Lily to look like. “It’s not like that. She’s pretty, Mom. Please… just open the message and look at the picture.”
A few seconds later, Mom gasped. “Frank, look,” I heard her say. “This girl looks just like Amber. As I live and breathe…”
I heard the television click off.
“That’s not Amber?” Dad asked.
“No. That’s Lily. She’s the lady I’m seeing,” I said.
“What is this? Looks just like Bill’s girl,” Dad sounded upset and confused. “We buried Bill’s girl. You remember the funeral, don’t you, Liz?”
“Yes. You sure you didn’t send us an old picture of you and Amber, honey?” Mom asked.
“Yes. Lily looks a lot like Amber.”
“A lot?” Dad snorted. “She’s a spittin’ image of Bill’s girl. The world’s a crowded place. How’d you manage to find yourself another Amber?”
My family had loved Amber. I’d expected their acceptance of Lily to be overshadowed by that love, but hearing the accusation in Dad’s voice still pissed me off. “I wasn’t looking for another Amber. Heck, I wasn’t looking for anyone.” Knowing I needed to nip this in the bud before they met my woman, I added, “And Lily’s nothing like Amber. Yeah, she looks like her, but the two of them couldn’t be more different.”
