“What are you going to do?” Obviously I was referring to the situation with his wife and not life’s latest punch in the face.
“Whatever I have to.”
Usually I had patience for his cryptic dialect, but I wasn’t feeling it. “Try that in English, dickhead.”
He looked up, attempting to read me. Good luck with that. I couldn’t even read me. He paused then said, “We need a surrogate.”
Fucking A, this day just kept getting better.
I drained a second water bottle. “As in another woman … and Lil’s okay with this?” Shit, that was impulsive. I was losing it and fast.
“What the hell’s up with you?” he asked, scowling.
I deserved it. But that was a question he wasn’t ready for me to answer. Hence the reason why my left eye was swelling as we spoke.
“It’s not like I’d have to fuck a stranger.”
Ouch. Shit, okay I knew what a surrogate was.
“We need a gestational carrier. It would be our embryo, just someone else to carry it.”
Yup, he thought I was an idiot. He stood and started to pace. Seemed I had that effect on people today.
“Until Blue realizes she has to put all her trust in a stranger, forty weeks completely out of her control. And worse—she misses out on every little kick and movement. What if something happens, because let’s be honest, bad shit happens. What then? How the fuck will I make that okay for her?”
I had nothing. “Sorry, man. I’ve got nothing. But knowing Lil and knowing you, you’ll figure it out.”
He stopped to lift his chin, the universal sign he heard me and nothing else needed to be said. Damn if his son didn’t do the same exact motion to me. We tossed our sweat and blood stained towels into the laundry bin. Since neither of us showered at the gym, we grabbed our duffels and headed for the exit. I tried not to think about my cell buried at the bottom of the bag, and what, if any, messages were waiting for me. Surprisingly my fists, cheek, and left ribs throbbed like a mother. Unexpectedly, the burn behind my chest had turned to an intense deep ache. I wasn’t sure which was worse: anger or disappointment.
We did our fist bump, hand shake, but before he split Chase asked, “So, that bad, huh?”
I nodded. He left it at that. Worse for you, brother.
Six texts and three voicemails all said the same thing—Please call me. I ignored them long enough to shower, pop four Ibuprofen, return the two hundred emails I missed during the afternoon, and touch base with Avery. She was my safest bet, filling me in on Dad’s condition, but fortunately, too overwhelmed with the drama of her life to notice I avoided all questions Talia, aka Barbie, aka Tack’s mother.
I popped a cold one and sat on the couch wearing a clean pair of running shorts. The beer was more to ice my hand and cheek than anything else. I flicked through a few channels before shutting the TV off and tossing the remote. Silence … until my phone chimed again. This text wasn’t from Talia.
Hi stranger, long time no PLAY.
Nightcap? Like old times.
Stop by *kiss face*
I considered it. I probably didn’t even need to walk down the block. If I picked up the phone, she’d be here in five. No questions, no strings. Two consenting adults needing and willing. If I recalled correctly, Angie, or was it Andie, rivaled my stamina and liked to take control. The state I was in, that sounded pretty damn appealing.
You know where I live.
My finger hovered over the send button while my head mind-fucked itself. Why not? I had nothing to lose. Nothing else to lose, at least. Except not being able to look myself in the mirror. My current page was torn to shreds, but I had no intention on creating a new one that involved using women for anger release. I wasn’t that guy and I wasn’t about to begin now. I chucked the phone to the other side of the couch and took a deep breath, wincing at the sharp pain behind my right ribs.
I fetched a new beer, intent on drinking this one, and grabbed a pool stick from the wall. New distraction. Unable to avoid the giant mirror that hung in my dining room aka billiard room, I surveyed the damage. My cheek had a small cut and my left eye was already bruising. Not bad, considering. Barely able to breathe, I wasn’t sure how I was gonna lean over and shoot. I didn’t give a damn. I positioned myself in line with the cue and cracked, pocketing the eight ball and … scratch. Of course. Just that kind of day or life.
The doorbell chimed, followed by a soft knock. Cursing, I realized I must have accidentally hit send. Time to man up.
“Sorry, sweetheart-” I swung open the door to familiar caramel eyes.
She cringed. Must have been my banged up face. “Guessing that endearment is not for me.” Or not, it was her turn to look over her shoulder. Yup, just the two of us in the empty hall.
“What are you doing here, Talia?” My body betrayed me as I felt the tightness in my chest relax, breathing easier despite the bruised ribs. “The doorman told me you already came by and picked up your bag.”
When I got back from the gym and all her stuff was gone, I was even angrier if that was possible. But her in front of me now left me questioning my brain’s betrayal as well.
“Are you okay?” Her gaze focused on my left eye.
“No,” I snapped. She blinked. “Again, why are you here?” I was still pissed. I wasn’t sure if pissed was even the correct adjective. All this talk of betrayal … seemed fitting.
“We need to talk.”
“No, we needed to talk five months ago—make that—you needed to talk nineteen years ago. I’m done talking.” My grip on the pool stick tightened.
“Please, Ace, please. Just hear me out. Don’t be like this.”
“Like what? By all means, share. What exactly am I being like?” I questioned sarcastically.
I hurled the stick across the room. Balance, cock, torque, strike. She jumped at the sound of it crashing against the wall. I didn’t fucking flinch.
“A stranger.” Her voice was just above a whisper. “Can I come in and talk to my friend? Please?” The way she said friend sliced deep, was I being a dick? This conversation was inevitable, so I backed up, giving her space to enter.
I closed the door and watched her walk to the pool table, dropping her coat and bag. With her back to me, I noticed the slow rise and fall of her shoulders giving away her struggle to calm her breathing. I kept my distance with my arms crossed. She wanted to talk then she needed to talk. When she finally turned around, she pretended her cheeks weren’t wet, straightened her blouse, and squared her shoulders. Great, Dr. Pryce was ready to talk. That should have been a small relief, knowing that my TP still had the power to question my resolve. But it wasn’t. It fueled my fire.
“Asher, I wanted to tell you, so many times. I did. You have to believe that. I’m so sorry I hurt you, but I had my reasons. And I know it sounds convenient, but I was going to tell you this weekend, I swear. That’s why I came a day early.”
“Last night, this morning? What, it didn’t seem like a good time, with me laying my heart out for you?”
“I … I needed to talk to Tack first.”
The mention of his name singed my already raw esophagus.
“So there wasn’t a single opportunity over the last five months to tell him about us? I don’t know, Tal, he seems like a smart kid. You mean to tell me it never came up during the half dozen times you’ve been here, the reason why you’re in Boston? I get it now. I get why you were always more than willing to fly out here. Bullshit it was easier for me. It was easier for you. You know that old saying ‘kill two birds with one stone’.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Really? Do you really want to go there—talk about fucking fair?” What was this, romper room? Share your toys, kids. Shit, this was turning juvenile.
“I was afraid … I was afraid of seeing that look, of having my best friend look at me like you are right now.”
“You should probably be more afraid of the look our other best friend is going to hav
e when you tell him he has a son you kept from him for almost twenty years.” My body seethed with anger, but my eyes were cold as ice.
“Asher!” she snapped. “It’s not what you think. Tack is-”
“DON’T lie to me, Talia. Don’t. You don’t have to be a brain surgeon to put two and two together.”
Talia didn’t miss my choice of expert, flinching again. She rubbed her temples, feigning a headache, and shook her head back and forth. Was she kidding me, was she honestly going to try and deny the obvious?
“I was there that night, remember? Besides seeing you and Chase with my own eyes, he told me, Talia. He told me you got pregnant. He told me how he reacted, he told me about the abortion. Far from his finest moment, I’ll give you that, but then again I don’t think I need to remind you his twin sister had just gotten a life sentence to being a vegetable, thanks to a drunk driver and the three of us not having her back that night. Add that to the years of ripping himself apart with guilt over what he did to you, I think he gets a pass on his knee-jerk reaction to finding out he was gonna be a father at eighteen. Then again, you didn’t stick around to see any of that, did you? So do me a favor, and stop lying!”
She wiped the fresh stream of tears and took two steps toward me. I raised one hand and she heeded my warning.
“He’s not-”
I wasn’t listening to one more lie. “Talia.” I spoke through my gritted teeth.
“Please, listen to me. He’s-”
“Stop! Nothing you say will take this away. Just stop!” I picked up the pool stick and cracked it over my knee before picking up my beer and heading for the couch. I needed a fucking minute. I needed to get away.
“I tried!” She roared back, following me into my sunken living room. “I tried. I went to Planned Parenthood, twice. But I couldn’t make it past the waiting room. Both times I sat there, alone and terrified. No one wants to be a teenage mother, but all I could think of were my parents. They tried forever to have another baby after me—so much so, it freaking killed their marriage. Made them miserable, so miserable my dad felt the need to screw his twenty-five-year-old intern … in our house where his high school daughter could walk in and catch him in the act. I was so mad at him for everything, for hurting my mother, for ruining my high school graduation, for leaving us. Being the spoiled brat that I was, I wanted him to suffer, like I was suffering. I wanted to make him miserable. God, I was so stupid. Do I regret some of the choices I made? Yes, most of them. But sitting there, in that waiting room, that was not one of them. It didn’t matter how it happened, and it never will. I would have never been able to live with myself. I could never go through with something like that. It was my first adult choice and the best choice of my life. I won’t ever apologize for that. He is everything, he’s my son.”
I knew most of what went down with her parents and how it messed with her head that summer, but it didn’t explain a twenty-year lie. “That was one hundred percent your choice to make, Tal. No one should ask you to apologize for that. But he’s not just yours. What about his father’s choice to know his kid, Tal? What about that? There’s no explaining that.” Some lies were inexcusable.
“I told my mother I was pregnant that morning. She cried, she yelled, she held me, she told me everything would be okay ... she was amazing. She promised to stand behind my decision, but demanded I tell the baby’s father. I begged her to drop it. I couldn’t bear the thought of this baby being his … huh, ten thousand dollars and a few years of therapy, I’m still dealing with it. I went to the party that night, more to escape her interrogation. I was emotionally exhausted and more terrified than I had been, for different reasons. I saw Kimi storm off, I wanted to follow her. I should have. But then I saw Chase downing shots. He never drank like that. God, if I could take it back, I would have. It was the biggest mistake of my life, but I had no choice … god, god, god.” Talia covered her eyes and cried, making no sense. Where the hell was she going with this?
I closed our gap and lowered her hands so I could see her face. Her eyes begged to be believed, as if she was telling the truth or maybe she just wanted her skewed timeline to be true. “You’re not making any sense, Talia.” My tone was softer, urging her to keep talking.
“I pretended to be just as drunk. God, the things I said to him, the lies.” She pulled away from me and went to the window. The thought of her and Chase sleeping together made me nauseous, but I wanted her to finish. This wasn’t adding up. “He was one of my best friends, he was the brother I never had, and I lied to him. I used him. I swear on my son, I really thought I had no other option. Please say you believe me, Asher?”
“Tal, I don’t understand what the hell you’re talking about.” I followed her to the window and turned her around. “You’re confusing me?”
“Chase was so drunk, he passed out right away. I thought for sure he wouldn’t remember any of it. I could only hope. There was only one other time I felt even more worthless, dirtier than I did that night. I bawled uncontrollably, completely consumed by guilt and fear and utter disgust with myself—I fell asleep too. At first I thought the screaming was just part of a nightmare ... he was screaming for Chase like a lunatic, demanding to know why Chase let Kimi get in the car, screaming about getting to the hospital, there not being much time. I am haunted by the look in Chase’s eye when he realized what he’d done ... with me … when his twin sister, my best friend ... plowed into a telephone pole. I will never forgive myself for that, ever.”
I don’t think one kid walked away from that Hamptons’ high school party unscarred by the vision of Chase’s father frantically searching for him. I sure as shit didn’t. We all knew instantly it was bad. Just how bad was incomprehensible. But this didn’t answer why she was rehashing this nightmare? We were both there to live it, and have been ever since.
I sat on the arm of the couch and leaned on my knees. “I get how messed up that night was, trust me, I do. We all made mistakes we have to live with and I know how much Kimi meant to you. But what does any of this have to do with why you lied to her brother about having an abortion? This does not justify why you didn’t tell him. It never will. He’s been robbed from a life with his son. You have no choice now. You need to tell him.” My tone was re-approaching irate.
“Tack is NOT his.”
Was she really going to play this game? “I saw Tack with my own two eyes!” I grabbed the back of my head and squeezed. “Goddamn it, Tal!”
“You said it yourself. They all look the same!”
What.
The.
Fuck.
She shook and sobbed. The sounds escaping through her lips were gut wrenching. But not enough for me to feel anything. My breath that had been coming in short, fast bursts, ceased. I was numb and paralyzed. Again. After several long seconds I had to remind my brain to breathe before calmly uttering, “What?” As in, what the hell was she talking about?
She attempted to pull herself together; it was futile. She began to speak almost incoherently through her crying. “The day my parents told me they were getting a divorce, I was beside myself. We were supposed to have our last gig at that place on Mott Street that night, but Constance made Chase and Kimi go to one of those debutant things out of town, so we canceled at the last minute. You wanted to take me to the movies, god, I wish I would have gone with you.” Her tears began to slow, but she was a million miles away. “Instead I decided to try out self-destructive, huh, and guess what … I succeeded. In grand fashion. I went to one of our over-the-top graduation parties—parents rent the club, the whole nine—the ones we swore we’d never go to, we hated that scene. So freaking entitled … so stupid. I had no business being there. I mean really—the one and only time I drank more than two beers, I ended up puking my guts up cuddled on your lap, feeling like death. But that memory didn’t stop me from wanting to drown in self pity that night.” She shook her head, her face expressionless. Her emotions were all over the place. It was hard to keep up. “Let’s just
say it didn’t take much to twist my arm. I barely took half of it. But I also didn’t really care. It probably wasn’t even a full effect, but it was enough to send me soul searching. I wound up down on Mott anyway. I loved that place. I loved the acoustics and how our music sounded there. That stage gave off such an intimate vibe. I was always pinned up against your drums, like you were holding me up. I loved how I felt on that stage … confident, invincible, and beautiful.”
“You were all of those things.” My response was involuntary, it just slipped out.
Her glassy eyes widened for a second before she cinched them shut. She leaned against the window and wrapped her arms around her thin waist.
“Ricky, the manager, saw me sitting alone and made a comment about being underage unless I was ‘on the clock.’ You remember him, right? Nice guy, always knew how much I loved to sing.” She looked over at me for acknowledgement. “Well, I got on that stage … and it was amazing. Of course it wasn’t the same without you guys, but being up there, uninhibited and hypersensitive; the lyrics poured from my soul. It was probably the performance of my life ... and my last.”
I didn’t know why, but I walked toward her and wiped a few remaining tears from her cheeks. She closed her eyes again. But this time when she spoke, she sounded completely detached, as if the words were not her own. I thought she was far away before, but now she seemed to be in another universe.
“When I stepped off that stage and he approached me, I was shocked. Mostly because he was even there. The place wasn’t exactly up to Jack Colton’s standards. Not to mention he and Constance hated that Kim and Chase were part of the band. He always gave me the creeps, but that night it was oddly comforting to see a familiar face. It was obvious I was upset and he was actually … nice. I spilled my guts in between tears. I told him about my parents and how I had acted like a slut in hopes it would get back to my father and make him feel like shit. It felt good to say it all out loud. And he was just … nice.”
Beautifully Done Page 16
