by H. J. Bellus
The look on Lacey’s face when she realized how big of an appetite Miles had was hilarious, because of course it played out at the dinner table. Lacey’s crazy theory to dick wars is that a man with a long, lean torso and a huge appetite is always sure to be packing in the groin area. Well, on Miles’ third burger she finally threw a verbal fit and a bag of biscuits at him. The poor guy had no clue what was going on, and the rest of us just laughed, with the exception of Tripp, who looked nervous as hell. I silently thanked God that nobody went into great details about Lacey’s tantrum.
Miles vanished after Saturday. He’s gone yet again on one of his unexpected trips out of town. I’m still convinced he’s off banging Skankzilla in some trashy motel in a nearby town. Miles is a gentleman, so taking her away is just an example. I desperately try to turn off my imagination, because picturing him banging anyone else bedsides me in my dreams is just devastating.
Ding!
Wouldn’t you know it—Miles. In all of his simple glory, he struts over to the counter, but is interrupted by his phone halfway. He glances down at it, and gestures to me with a finger to wait. Watching him answer his phone breaks my heart because I know it’s her. The her he keeps sneaking off with. Miles looks distressed while talking to his lover. He keeps running his hands through his hair and finally slumps down into a chair.
We have to pick Annie up from school in five minutes, so I grab my huge hobo purse and keys and make my way to Miles. Standing in front of him, I can finally see how stressed out he actually looks. All of his carefree simple personality has vanished, and he looks as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders. He has black lines under his eyes and even yawns a couple times during his conversation.
“Three minutes,” I mouth, and hold up my fingers to enforce it
I dash over to the coffee stand and make him a mocha with a triple shot. This humdinger should do the trick for anyone. As I’m making my way back over to him, he’s completely slumped down resting his elbows on his knees.
“I’ll send the money. Yeah. Same story, different day. Yep, I love you. Bye.”
Miles closes his phone and looks up to see me standing there.
“Here.”
I shove the drink at the fucker. I’m such a fucking fool. Who knew that just allowing a man in your daydreams could be so dangerous? This daydream station is currently closed because Miles may seem sweet, but he has the same potential power to rip my fucking pathetic heart to pieces just like Greyson did.
“Thanks. I’ve slept like two hours in the last couple days.”
“Yeah. I fucking bet. Let’s get this over with.”
I spin around and head to my car. I’m sure Miles assumes that we’ll be taking his panty melting machine. Wrong, motherfucker! We’ll safely seat our asses in my lime green Volkswagon convertible bug.
“I can drive, Willow.”
I throw my purse into the backseat, rip open my door, and slam my fist on the top of my car.
“Yeah, we all know you can fucking drive. However, I prefer to take my niece to her dance lesson in a car free from semen and nasty hoe juice.”
“Fine,” Miles says, and holds his hands up in surrender.
We drive in silence to pick up Annie, and while waiting in front of the school, his phone goes off again. I try to control the huff of disappoint that escapes me. Miles instantly silences his phone.
“Answer the fucker. I’m sure your whore is missing you.”
Miles grabs my arm and makes me face him. “It was my mom in The Shop and this call is my boss.”
“Whatfuckingever. I’ve been used before and clearly know your game now. Don’t worry. You’ll never have to say you love me or give me money because I don’t want to ever see you after this. You can start using the back door at The Shop and stay the fuck away from me and my family.”
I don’t give him a chance to respond before I’m out of the car. Walking over to the spot where I always meet Annie, I start crying. Then I get really pissed off at myself for crying, and cry even harder. Crying means I care, and I had promised myself to never cry again. I don’t even care at this point if it was his mom on the phone. That doesn’t explain away all of his secret trips that happen more often than not. I’m done. I have to be done before it’s more than tears falling from me.
“Willow!” I hear Annie screech. I look up to see my girl running towards me in her swimsuit and tutu with her signature neon flip flops on. She’s enrolled at a six week art school this summer, and loves every minute of it.
“Squirty McSquirster.”
I kneel down and grab her, hugging her tighter than usual. This girl is the one thing that keeps me hanging on. She’s that one thing that keeps me from drinking more, taking pills and completely checking out. Yeah, there’s Rose and Mac, but Annie knows if I’m here or not. She’s that one thing that has saved me so far. I find myself praying that she’s enough.
“Miles.”
Annie peels away and runs towards my car and jumps into Miles’ arms. I grab her bag and walk back to the car. I stop steps away from them and listen to their conversation.
“You came.”
“A bet is a bet, kid. I hear you’re one hell of a dancer.”
“Well, I am kind of a big deal around here,” she replies, gesturing to the parking lot.
“Is that so?”
Miles ruffles her hair and then helps her climb in the back. He fastens her into her booster seat and tells her a corny joke that makes her laugh.
To say watching Annie dance was tense is an understatement. The tension was thick, and I clearly made it stay that way. Miles tried to make small talk a couple of times and I completely ignored him. He was going to stay out of my heart, daydreams, and thoughts for good, and it’s starting now rather than later.
He finally took a call from his phone, which had been going off non-stop. When I asked him to silence the annoying piece of shit, he informed me that he dropped it at work and now he can’t silence it. Perfect. I then asked him very politely to go flush it down the toilet.
“Willow, are you going to be a bitch all night?”
“Yep.”
“I was talking to my fucking mom. She needs money for medicine.”
“Mmm.”
“Jesus Christ. You’re the most irritating fucking person I have ever met. You’re either a seriously spoiled little bitch or you have some serious baggage. Whichever it is, I get your fucking message loud and clear.”
“Go find another little bitch to fuck over.”
“Trust me, Willow, after a night with you I’ll need to find someone to erase the memory of your fucking attitude.”
Done. Broke that off. Just like a band-aid—rip it off fast, less painful. That’s the story, anyway. Fake it til you make it is the only thing I keep repeating over and over in my head.
“Miles,” Annie hollers as she runs up to us after dance.
“Annie,” he shouts right back.
And just like that we go back to putting up with each other for Annie’s sake. Just the one night of ice cream, games, and a movie and then all can go back.
“So, let’s go eat, peeps.”
“Where do you want to go?” I ask.
“Granny’s Diner.”
“Every Monday. Are you serious? Let’s go somewhere else, please?”
“C’mon, Willow. Dad never takes me there. Please?”
“Fine. Get in the car before I change my mind."
If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all. I say that because once again we land a waitress that can’t keep her eyes, hands, boobs or comments to herself. Every chance she gets she’s rubbing on Miles or leaning down to rest her very fake and perky size D titties on Miles’ shoulders because that’s what every good waitress does, right?
At one point while refilling our drinks, Annie asked her if she was having back problems, and I think the tramp finally got the message to keep stepping. Annie ordered her usual chili dog minus the dog. Mil
es ordered three meals. Yes, three freaking meals and ate every ounce of it. I basically watched the whole time, sipping on my ice tea, fighting my fucking wonky emotions for the man.
“So, Willow, I was thinking,” Annie says, as she climbs up into my lap in the very cramped booth.
When she wraps her arms around my neck, I know things are about to get very serious. “What evil plan have you hatched now, child?”
“Well, I was thinking since all three of us are like practically BFF’s and all, and since we don’t get to spend so much time together, and since you are my most favorite person in the world…I was thinking that we could go swimming!”
“Um, no. Not tonight. We have Miles with us. No.”
“Please. Pretty please?”
“No. I’m going to pay the check, then we’re going home and dropping him off.”
“So, that’s a maybe?”
“No,” I holler over my shoulder as I go to pay the ticket.
When I reach the counter to pay, none other than our shitty ass waitress is there to ring me up. I grab a mint and unwrap it as I analyze just how perfect she is. Flashy is an understatement for this one. Bright pink nails, the perfect fake bake tan, gorgeous silicone boobies, caked on makeup, and the perfect bump going on in her hair, the complete opposite of plain ol’ me. I’m wearing flip flops and she’s wearing bedazzled platforms to waitress in. She’s wearing the tiniest pair of Daisy Dukes to show off all her curves and I’m wearing a sundress. It’s nothing short of a miracle that Miles could finish his dinner while looking at me compared to this beauty.
“Um. Your brother already paid the bill,” the waitress says, snapping me out the marathon compare and degrade episode playing out in my head.
Her words cause me to inhale the mint I have in my mouth, and the little peppermint fucker lodges deep in my throat. I panic and start pounding on my chest.
“Are you okay, Ma’am?”
Did the cunt really just call me Ma’am while I sit here, clearly choking on a fucking mint? I try to shake my head no, but really just want to flip her off and then kick her in the crotch, but deep down I’m afraid she might suck my foot into her vortex.
I continue to pound on my chest, hoping that the mint will dislodge or at least melt a little, so I can fucking breathe. Do mints melt without much sucking action? Motherfucker! I sure hope they do. What if my last thoughts in life have to do with kicking a waitress in the lady locker, sucking actions, and mints? I panic. Complete panic mode settles in. I practically start flash dancing in front of the cash register, hoping this dumbass will realize, yes, I need motherfucking help, or I’m going to die in Granny’s Diner in a son of a bitching sundress.
“Willow, are you okay?” I hear Miles, coming up from behind me.
I continue to pound on my chest. In one swift movement, he grabs me from behind and gives me one powerful Heimlich or whatever the fuck it’s called, and the mint shoots out of my mouth. Fully relieved to be alive, I slump down and try to catch my breath. The lone mint lay feet away on the ground. I only thought shit like this happens in the movies.
“What happened, Aunt Willow? Are you okay?” Annie asks with tears in her eyes.
I try to answer her but the waitress beats me to it. “She came up here to pay, and I let her know that her brother took care of it. At the mention of brother, she started choking on that mint. But in my defense, I didn’t know you were choking. Next time, you really need to use the International sign for choking, which is placing both hands over your throat, like this.”
I stand back up, and turn to Miles. “I’m going to fucking kill this dumbass with my bare hands in two seconds if you don’t get me the fuck out of here.”
Miles grabs both my hands and smiles back at me. “Lola, I can’t thank you enough for saving my sister’s life. We’ve told her over and over to use the International Choking Sign. She eats way too fast and is just so damn stubborn about using the choking signal. How can I ever repay you, sweet cheeks?”
“You motherfucker,” I hiss.
Miles makes his way to the counter, continuing to flirt with Lola.
“Aunt Wils, I need to go potty.”
“Okay, let’s go,” I say and usher her into the restrooms.
Looking into the mirror, I truly notice for the first time how plain I really am. Willow before Greyson was one firecracker that could give any hussy a run for their money. I tanned, had fake lashes, worked out, and shopped like no one’s business. Now, my auburn wavy hair is always pulled up in a messy bun, I never wear makeup, and I definitely never wear any fashionable clothes. Hell, I’d be happy to wake up every morning and throw on a muumuu. My poisonous relationship with Greyson not only murdered my future, but every single ounce of self-dignity I ever had.
“Did you almost die?” Annie asks while she washes her hands.
“Not really. Almost died of embarrassment,” I reply.
I grab Annie and put her on the counter, then give her paper towels to dry her hands. What I wouldn’t give to go back to her age with no worries.
“Annie, I want you to always remember two things. One, I love you more than anything in this world. Two, never back down from any fight. Win at everything you do, and never let anyone destroy you. Anyone.”
“You know Daddy’s really worried about you.”
“What do you mean, squirt?”
“I hear him talking to Momma at night. He’s sad for you. One night he cried because he wants you to be happy, and he thinks you never will be again. He even said he wishes that his momma was here to help you on that worstest day of your life.”
Placing my forehead down on Annie’s, I let out a sigh of exhaustion. Exhaustion from fighting with my brother, myself, and certainly shattered from battling my demons day in and day out.
“I’ll be happy again. I’ll promise you that. Does your dad know that you heard him talking?”
“Um, no.”
“Don’t listen to your daddy’s convos anymore, okay?”
“So you are gonna be happy again? I mean like really happy again? Like wear lip gloss happy?”
Chuckling at Annie’s question, I nod my head up and down. “And what does lip gloss and happiness have to do with anything, Annie?”
“When you were happy, you always wore lip gloss and I love sneaking into it.”
“Lip gloss it is. Let’s go, pumpkin.”
I grab Annie’s hand and help her to the ground. She doesn’t let go of my hand, so we walk hand in hand out to the parking lot with lip gloss and happiness on our minds. Miles is leaning up against my car, and it’s probably the funniest thing I have ever seen. The sexiest man alive in the state of Colorado propped up against my lime green VW Bug. Hell! He even makes my car look hot.
“Nice ride, brother,” I joke as I help Annie in.
“What took you two divas so long?” Miles asks.
He has his arms propped up on the roof with his head ducked in the car from the driver’s side.
“You know, girl stuff,” I reply, winking at Annie.
“Yep, girl stuff, Miles,” Annie giggles.
“Do you need me to drive there, Peppermint Patty?”
“Absolutely not!”
Then we all burst out in laughter that ricochets in the small car and deserted parking lot. Shutting the passenger door, I walk around to the front of the car and meet Miles. He doesn’t step to the side and neither do I. I’m truly sick and tired of fighting with him now and forever.
“Miles…”
He places his finger on my lips, halting all sound. “Willow, let me go first. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being so short with you. I shouldn’t have said the things I did. My mom is sick and takes up a lot of my time and patience, and it’s wearing on me. So, I am sorry.”
“Oh, I was just going to say that I think you and Lola would make a great couple. Much better than Skankzilla that you’ve been banging.”
Miles throws his head back and scrubs both of his hands over his face. “Yo
u are fucking impossible, Willow.”
I catch Miles off guard and playfully punch him in the gut while his head is still thrown back.
“I do take back one thing, though. You can still be friends with my family. Annie loves you. Poor girl.”
“Damn, I want to shake you like a teddy bear,” Miles says as he walks past me.
Settling into the car, I can’t help but giggle to myself. The picture of Miles shaking the shit out of me is too much to hold in.
“Okay, buckle up,” I holler.
“Bitches,” Annie whispers from the back seat.
Miles and I whip around in lightning speed. Cheek to cheek, peering back at Annie, we both ask at the same time, “What did you say?”
“Bitches. Lacey says it every time we buckle up. It just came out.”
We both turn around and fail at containing our smiles and laughs. The scariest part of the whole situation is that she sounded just like Lacey when she said it.
Pulling out of the parking lot, Miles asks, “Where are we going now? I can’t wait to see what else you two twits have planned for me tonight.”
“We’re going to buy lip gloss and then we’re going swimming.”
“Yes!” Annie squeals from the back seat. “Yes. Yes. Yes,” she chants as she fist pumps the air.
“Lip gloss?” Miles questions.
I shrug my shoulders. “I’m getting my happy back.”
“One problem, girls. I don’t have swimming trunks,” Miles says.
“My suit is out at Tripp’s, maybe he…”
“Guys. Like cereal. Don’t worry. I packed one of my momma’s and daddy’s suits for each of you.”
“What?” Miles asks.
“Better be a one piece,” I say.
“Oh, you two, this was too easy. I had this battle won the whole time. I just played you guys like a fiddle.”
I look in the rear view mirror at a very thrilled and smiling Annie, and Miles turns to look at her. In unison we both say, “You little shit.”
Annie and Miles are taking turns diving off the diving board. I can’t quite tell what kind of competition they have going on between the two of them. We stopped at the local grocery store to buy lip gloss and snacks for the pool, because once Annie gets to a pool you have to physically drag her out of it, or plan on waiting for the lifeguard to blow the whistle when the pool closes.
