Beautifully Done

by Riley Mackenzie

  Holy shit, I hit send after all. That was the night Tal came to my apartment and clarified everything. The night she taught me what true courage was, the night I learned what it meant to fight for someone’s love. Could I be any more of a moron? If Angie/Andie showed up when Tal was over, it could have changed everything. Scratch that, it would have ruined it all. The trust that I had worked so hard to gain from Tal would’ve been gone. We would have never gotten to where we were today. Wait. Where were we today? We weren’t, that’s right. She wasn’t here. She wasn’t fighting our battle. She ran, pouring more and more acid on my gaping wound with each passing day. I was fucked.

  I politely said goodnight before I fucked myself further, literally. Not that I had any interest in what Ann was offering (just easier to lump her name). She wasn’t Tal. End of story.

  “You made it!” Lil squealed and attacked my side. “We scored and you missed it. How amazing is this place. Thank you so much! Let me buy you a shot.”

  My mood might have been rancid, but Lil’s enthusiasm was infectious. “Gorgeous, food and drink are included.”

  “Whatever, party pooper.” Oh lord, she was half lit. I scanned the room, taking inventory. “He’s not here. Go ahead, one guess … yep, shocker, he’s stuck at the hospital.” Something was off, Lil never complained about Chase’s crazy hours, if anything she raved about his commitment to his patients. I’d have to deal with that in a few because out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tack at the far end of the suite helping Paige with her coat.

  “Whoa, bud, where you headed?” I lifted my chin. “Third period hasn’t even started.” Tal and I were screwed up, but I wasn’t prepared for any awkwardness with Tack. He gave me nothing. Shit, I was losing him too.

  “No, Mr. Craig. It’s my fault. I have a sorority mixer tonight, we’re already late.” Paige was the furthest thing from a sorority chick, reminded me of someone else I knew who was always full of surprises. I couldn’t help but smile. Tack had great taste. “I’ll wait for you outside, Tack. Night, Mr. Craig,” she said, politely tipping up and I kissed her cheek.

  “Asher.”

  “Right.” Her slight blush and genuine smile told me she wasn’t using my first name anytime soon. Her expression for Tack said a whole hell of a lot more. He really was lucky to have her.

  I was done wasting time so I spit out, “How are you doing? You talk to her?” Tal wasn’t answering my calls or returning my texts. I was sure the rehab center was keeping her very busy, but I knew she wouldn’t go a day without some form of contact with Tack.

  “Yeah, she says she’s doing okay. Wanted me to let you know she got all the gifts you sent for her birthday.” The messenger who dropped them confirmed receipt, that wasn’t what I wanted to know. I needed some insight into what was going on in her head. Tack knew full well what I was looking for. He snaked his hands in his pockets and said, “She’s more worried about you.”

  And that wasn’t it, in fact, that shit was getting old. If she was so worried, she’d be in my bed. I wasn’t shot. I wasn’t rolling around in a chair. Tack gave me the minute to stew, and then squeezed my shoulder on his way out. “Gym tomorrow? Gotta see this iron chin I keep hearing about. And it’d be nice to see someone knock my long lost brother off his high horse. Wow, you weren’t kidding, he’s an arrogant motherfucker.”

  I shook my head and smirked, partial relief settling in. Yeah, Tack and I were still solid. “You got it. See you at six. And have fun tonight.”

  He cockily raised his brow in an all too familiar way. “Oh, I will.” Son of a bitch, he might’ve been a Colton clone, but he sounded just like me. And I wasn’t too proud to admit that I loved it.

  He strode out and I was left wondering, again, why Tal was doing this to us. A firm hand smacked my upper back, pulling me from my reverie. Not them too—since when was I the party killer?

  Dodd bumped my fist and rolled his eyes. “Sorry man, we’re out too. Long day.” Man code for his woman said let’s go. “You got Lil?”

  He obviously knew the answer, but I couldn’t blame him. I would’ve asked too.

  “Definitely, man. I’ll make sure she gets home.”

  Sierra popped out of the suite’s private bathroom in time to put her two cents in. “That’s the least you can do.” I would’ve been taken back by the harshness of her tone, or not because it was Sierra, but I was momentarily distracted by the bump that was now crazy visible. “I know, I’m freaking huge. Don’t remind me.”

  She rubbed her protuberant belly and I almost laughed. Almost. Instead I said, “You look gorgeous, Sier.”

  “Well, no offense, but you look like shit.”

  “Umm … good to know.” What else did you say to that? She wasn’t wrong. I felt like shit too.

  “How about you do something about it, like dig your head out of your ass? We miss our girl.” Nothing like kicking a guy when he’s down. Sierra half walked, half waddled and pulled me down for a peck on the cheek. In a softer voice she said, “We miss our Green Giant, too.”

  I filed that whole exchange away to process at a later date, helped myself to a Heineken, and joined Lil on the open air balcony. We were high above the crowds, with only a short wall of glass separating us from the screaming chaos, yet we sat in silence. I glanced down, taking it all in. Two-two. It could go either way.

  “Go figure, Bruins-Rangers. Kind of ironic,” I said to no one, thinking of how it reminded me of my life, and not just the NY and Boston part. It could go either way.

  Lil stood on her spikes, wobbled a second then clicked her way up the two stairs.

  “Where ya going?” I called after her.

  She gave me the one minute finger, so I sunk into the leather and tried to lose myself in the blur of the puck.

  When she returned she handed me her wine glass (women and their total disregard for barware) with a familiar amber liquid. “Try this instead.” Her other hand held the half full bottle.

  “Don Julio 1942, hmm, when did you start drinking Tequila neat?”

  She shrugged her shoulders and looked down at the ice. “When I lost my margarita partners.” The Don Julio explained her buzz. Her answer explained her mood. I shot back the Tequila and poured another. I needed to catch up.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Her sad eyes said more than her words. “Not so much, you?”

  I kicked my feet out, swirled my last sip, appreciating the sweet aroma of agave and oak. It went down smooth, I’d give her that, but it wasn’t scotch. Nothing else was.

  Lil broke first. “Dodd won’t have sex with Sierra because she’s pregnant, meanwhile Dr. Sexy can’t seem to keep his hands off me. How’s that for ironic? Because if he distracts me with sex for the next five months, maybe I’ll forget that I’m not pregnant.” Lil was almost as bad as me, get us alone and shit flew from our mouths.

  “Wow, I’m not gonna even pretend to have a clue what you guys are dealing with, but you’ve got to know he only wants to-”

  Lil cut me off before I had a chance to finish. “Oh, let me guess—protect me.” Good guess. “Yes, I got a little choked up the first time the babies kicked and saw Chase’s hands on Sierra’s belly, not mine. It was a natural response, my god, of course I wish it were me carrying our twins, but it’s not, and I have to deal. And I am. Hell, I’m the one who grabbed his hands to feel … but it doesn’t mean it’s okay to make excuses, miss ultrasound appointments, and avoid Sierra like the plague. How is that protecting me? He’s just missing out on this part of us. Not to mention Sierra is my best friend and giving us the most amazing gift.”

  Her voice was laced with pain and I suddenly felt like a selfish prick. “Lil, I had no idea. But don’t worry, I’m sure Sierra gets it. She knows Chase.”

  “Of course she gets it.” Lil rolled her frustrated eyes and re-poured like it was in fact wine. “She gets that Dodd doesn’t want her to blame herself if anything happens with this pregnancy, just like Tal gets that you want to make everyth
ing easier for her. We get it. We freaking get it. Maybe, just maybe, all of you need to get that we don’t need a savior, we need a partner.”

  The roar of the crowd fell on deaf ears. I might as well have been the skater helmetless and bleeding on the ice, I felt like I got checked from behind. Having Tal thrown in my face pummeled me.

  Lil gasped and her hand immediately covered her mouth. “Ash, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean … I shouldn’t have brought up Tal.”

  “It’s fine.” Fine.

  “No, it’s not.” Her eyes welled, tugging at my heart. “God, it’s so not fine. Everything is so messed up and it’s all my fault to begin with. Tal would’ve never been hurt, he was after me.”

  “You can’t be serious.” She needed to vent, fine, but she was not going down this road. “I’m gonna say this once. What happened that day in your apartment is one hundred percent on that psycho. Got me? You saw firsthand what guilt can do to a person, your guy almost drowned in it. It’s a wasted emotion so don’t even go there. If anyone should be dishing out apologies, it should be me. They say you treat the people you’re closest to the worst during times of stress. Well, that day in the hospital, it’s no excuse—I was way out of line. It should’ve never taken me three months to say I’m sorry.”

  “No, no, no. You can’t go and apologize to me. Fuck, I’m a shit drunk and a worse friend … what in the world, you’d think I was hormonal.” She stared at me with unwarranted remorse.

  “Did you just drop the f-bomb, gorgeous?”

  Surprise replaced regret and Lil broke out into a fit of laughter. I joined her. And it even felt good. I took the glass from her dainty hand and pounded it. Why not.

  My back squished into the plush stadium couch and I relaxed for the first time in who knows how long. Who was I kidding? I knew exactly how long. Thirteen long ass weeks.

  Lil wiped her tears and she slunk a little deeper too. “It’s gonna work out, you know that, right? For all of us.”

  Damn, she sounded like she believed, but then again, there wasn’t any other option.

  “Mr. Craig, there are two minutes left for this sequence, you’re doing great.” The voice through the speaker interrupted the rapid firing clicks, tinks and bangs. Screw drums, it was like listening to someone wail on an industrial steel can, repeatedly. And did she really need to keep counting down minutes—who thought that was a good idea? “Ok, we’re going to inject the contrast now, you may feel a cool sensation in your arm, please hold still. There are three more sequences to go, then your MRI will be complete.”

  Cool sensation, my ass.

  I hadn’t been in one of these claustrophobic tubes in years. My visit usually consisted of a shitload of blood work and some poking around. But my oncologist retired and the new guy insisted on the pelvic MRI after feeling me up, even though the thickened cardboard area in my groin hadn’t changed in fifteen years. If he wanted to ‘make sure nothing was hiding,’ who was I to balk with an expert.

  So after remaining virtually motionless for thirty minutes, alone with my thoughts and only one person on my mind, I was relieved when the drums fell silent and the narrow table slid out.

  Exactly a year ago I left my old life behind and dove headfirst into one I never considered possible. That one chance encounter, a coincidence you could call it, a fluke, maybe fate, a stroke of luck that we crossed paths.

  Paths. Pop’s words came flooding back. Two very different paths merged, hit a few bumps then fused into one. Until that path came to a screeching halt, the impossible blocking its way, one saw beyond it and took the chance and kept going and the other came to a dead stop.

  This was me trying like hell to catch up.

  “Thank you. Have a nice day, ladies.” I waved to the women behind the reception desk, checking off another square on the to-do list. Good for another year.

  “Mr. Craig, if you’d like to wait, the radiologist is reviewing your scan now. We’d usually send the report to your oncologist, but since you’re, umm, you know…”

  Yeah, I knew what she was getting at. I sat on the board, so they were kissing ass. I should have appreciated the VIP treatment, but the last thing I wanted was to sit and wait. Now I had to.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.” I planted myself in a seat and immediately checked my phone. Habit. An obsessive one since Tal veered off our path. A tiny red circle lingered at the top of my messages and my heart skipped a shitload of beats, not just one, like it did every single time. Hope did that to a person.

  Fine here.

  Good to be around others in the same boat.

  Weather’s nice.

  I leaned forward and raked my hair, I couldn’t breathe. It felt like an elephant parked itself on my chest mid-sprint. Fine. Good. And the fucking weather. Twenty-eight goddamn days, she finally returned a text and this is what it said. So much for playing catch-up.

  “Mr. Craig, you okay?”

  Without realizing, I stalked halfway to the exit. I needed to get the hell out of here before I made a scene. Not sure how I would explain pelting my iPhone through the receptionist’s glass divider.

  “I’m gonna grab a coffee, I’ll be back.” That was a lie. I was beyond pissed and had no intention on sticking around. Once I hit the open hallway, I sucked in air and pinched my brow, attempting to bring my eyes back into focus. I was not fine. I was the furthest thing from good. And I didn’t give a fuck about the weather.

  I was so wrapped up I didn’t hear Chase approach. “What the hell is going on, why do you look white as a sheet?”

  “What?” I hissed back, not in the mood to deal. “Give me a minute, man. I need a minute.”

  “You see the oncologist today? Why are you coming out of radiology, they scanned you?”

  “What gave it away—the fact that I hate hospitals, and I’m standing outside of the MRI suite on my day off? Doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure it out.”

  “You’re a dick.”

  “That’s fair.” Our little exchange distracted me long enough to pull my shit together. “What are you doing here? Thought you were going away for your anniversary.”

  “Leaving tonight. Took your advice, took the rest of the week off. Now you going to answer my question—you get scanned?”

  “Just got done.”

  “Good, I’ll take a look. First, talk to me.”

  Yeah, okay. He thought it was that simple. He thought I was going to make sense of these last four months in a couple of sentences when my mind was a jumbled mess of disjointed fragments. But what was scaring me the most was how they were all being pieced together.

  “Just go read my scan so I can get the hell out of here already.” The scan was the least of my worries, but if this made him feel useful and bought me some time to figure out how to get rid of the deafening fight taking place in my head, so be it.

  “Meet me in my office, I’ve got some KimCore contracts for you to look at. And do me a favor—go get yourself a drink and preferably something with sugar in it. You’re so white you’re fucking green.”

  First Sierra, now Chase. How was misery supposed to look?

  The coffee smell added to my nausea and since I had gotten used to the acidic burn I opted for an OJ. I found the stack of contracts on his desk and dropped them into my bag. My to-do list just got a little longer. Not that it mattered. The only thing I cared about topped that list. Fixing things with Tal.

  I watched familiar grey clouds twist through the gusty wind, reminding me of the last time I was in this chair. It was Chase who was uncertain, had no clue what the future held and whether children would be a part of theirs. It sucked big time, watching them mourn miscarriage after miscarriage—Lili a hormonal disaster, and Chase beating the crap out of himself because he couldn’t fix it for her. But they figured it out, yeah it wasn’t ideal, but who the hell determined ideal? They were together and had two beautiful lives on the way. And when all was said and done, neither would remember what couldn’t be fixed, they’d only remem
ber that they lived through it. That would be their story. Not ideal … lived … done.

  “Son of a bitch.” I cursed myself for being so oblivious. Everything didn’t have to be ideal to be beautifully done in the end. Things were rocky and nothing was certain, but this was our story and Tal and I just needed the chance to live it.

  “Who you talking to, asshole?”

  I jerked forward and dragged the back of my arm across my damp forehead.

  “Your scan, it’s all clear.”

  Clear.

  “Clear,” I repeated. Because it was … crystal clear. The reality I was blind to, refused to see, and avoided since Tal lay in a pool of her own blood was now center ring. A total knock-out would have been a walk in the park compared to the vicious beatdown of clarity.

  It was never her.

  It was me.

  She left so I could figure this out. She left so I would start living again.

  Crystal fucking clear.

  “Follow the corridor to the left, it weaves a bit, then straight through the sliding doors.”

  I nodded at the woman behind the concierge’s desk and followed her instruction through the marble lobby.

  “Rehab, sure it’s not the Ritz?” I mumbled under my breath. The walls might as well have been plated in gold. This place was over the top. Only problem, it was covered in flowers. I rounded the last corner to face a wall of glass separating me from the breathtaking deep red rock contrasting against the bright blue sky. Reminded me of that time Tal and I hiked the Grand Canyon. A great memory that involved that simple act of placing a foot in front of another one that should never be taken for granted.

  The automatic doors slid open, allowing the warm dry air to mix with the ice cold air conditioning and I squinted against the sun. I cursed my sunglasses that I threw on the dash of my rental car, but it didn’t matter because my eyes were magnets, jumpstarting my legs and leading me right where I belonged.