Thursday Nights (The Charistown Series)

by Lisa N. Paul

  “No, Ly. Owen and I are going slow. We’ve only been out a couple times.”

  “Yeah, but don’t you see each other every day?” Ashley questioned.

  “And doesn’t he call or text you every night?” Lyla accused.

  “Oh my God, guys, yes…we see each other every day. And yes, we talk in some way each night.” Janie shrugged her shoulders. “We’re just not there yet. So, chill out. And speaking of chill, has your nose warmed up, Ash?”

  Ashley wiped at her nose as Lyla and Janie laughed again.

  “Anyway,” Janie added. “We are going out again on Monday night,” she said as she stood up to grab more napkins. She saw a quick look pass between Lyla and Ashley, but she didn’t care to ask what it meant.

  “Shit, I have to go into work,” Ashley announced after receiving a text. “Looks like Kyle called out sick…again.”

  Janie’s eyebrows knitted together. “What’s going on with him?”

  “Since when is hungover considered sick?” Lyla snorted, letting Janie’s question roll away.

  Ashley shrugged her shoulders, tossed her empty cup in the trash, and left her friends at the table.

  “To another one in the can.” Janie lifted her glass and clinked it against Lyla’s.

  It was Thursday night, and they were sitting at a high-top table, toasting to Lyla’s current novel that was now on its way to production.

  “It still amazes me that people want to read my words,” Lyla mused before she sipped her drink.

  She really has no idea how talented she is. “Are you ever going to tell everyone what you actually do for a living? Or do you intend to let them think you’re the neighborhood ‘Dear Abby’ forever?”

  “So, did you talk to Nice O before you came out tonight?”

  “Lyla!” Janie huffed. “That was the worst avoidance tactic I have ever seen!” They both laughed.

  “But it worked, right? So, did you? Come on, Jane. Talk to me.” Lyla lifted her hand to signal for the waitress to bring them another round.

  “Hey, Kyle,” Max called from down the bar. “The new waitress is swamped, partly because she spends all of her time staring at you”—he chuckled—“and Janie and Lyla need a round. Since you’re their new best friend, and their table is closest to you, can you be a nice little bartender and bring these drinks over to them?”

  Kyle flipped Max the finger and quickly brought the cocktails over to the ladies.

  “Hey, Kyle, they have you slinging and bringing drinks now?” Lyla teased.

  Kyle’s normally easy smile appeared forced, his face slightly pinched. “You okay, Ky?” Janie asked.

  “I’m fucking great. I love being a fucking waitress…even if it is for the two of you.” He quickly placed down the drinks and left the table. Shrugging their shoulders they women went back to their conversation.

  Looking at Janie suspiciously, Lyla brought the conversation back to Owen. “As you were saying…”

  Janie took a small sip of her drink and continued. “Owen is great. He’s so good looking and his eyes...God, they’re like chocolate morsels. He smells so good, I just want to snuggle up close to him. His voice is smooth like hot fudge and his kisses are just as sweet––”

  Reaching over the tabletop, Lyla placed her hand on Janie’s. “Jane, you can sugar coat him, you can chocolate cover him but in the end, does he make your heart melt?”

  “I don’t know Ly, but he’s just really… sweet.” They both giggled at the candy-coated conversation and allowed the laughter to dissolve the tension.

  She Was My Wife

  After an hour of thinking, Max pulled the Ferrari over to the side of the track. Sweat was dripping down the sides of his face and his back as he got out of the car and stepped into the cool early fall air. It had been a full week since that Monday evening when he watched Janie walk away from him. A full week since he stood there like an idiot and let her go. Aside from his breathing, there were no other sounds of life, just him, the asphalt, and his thoughts.

  I love you, Max…I deserve more than one step… He had been replaying her words on a loop in his mind for seven days. He watched her on Thursday night as she and Lyla sat at their table and laughed. She was being exactly who she was, Janie Silver, not Chloe Smyth. He lied, claiming his parents were hosting a dinner party he needed to attend just so he could avoid going to Sunday dinner last night because he still wasn’t ready to face her.

  “She has never been like Chloe,” he said out loud. As if on video montage, the seven months of their friendship replayed in his mind. He was happiest when he was with her. It didn’t matter how they spent their time together, they had fun. She made him feel relaxed, safe…whole. She gave him all of herself, and he gave her the Cliffs Notes version in return. She was right: she deserved so much more. She deserved a man that would meet her halfway, that would reach out, pick her up, and carry her if she were too tired to walk on her own. And he wanted to be that man. He had to be that man.

  His body moved on autopilot, and he ended up standing in Gage’s office.

  Still sweaty and sticky from his drive, he said to his friend, “I love her.” The words felt strange on his tongue at first, but they tasted sweeter each time he repeated them. “I tried not to, but I do. I’m in love with her, Gage.” He then turned around and ran out of the office. The sound of his boots echoing in the hallway as he ran for the exit.

  “Max, wait!” Gage’s voice called down the hallway, but Max ignored his friend because he needed to find his girl. He needed to tell her how he felt. And no one was going to stop him.

  “Janie, it’s Max. Please call me back.… I need to talk to you.” When he was done his message, he hung up, then left similar messages on Lyla’s and Ashley’s voice mails.

  “Where the fuck is everyone?”

  A foreboding sensation crept up his spine as he realized it was Monday night. Most of the bars, including Danny’s, would be slow. Maybe the girls were all out together…or maybe… Could Janie be out on another date? He gave himself a mental shake before the thought of her out with another man made him physically ill. Now that he accepted that he was in love with her, the thought was incomprehensible.

  Skidding into the parking lot of Danny’s, he barely threw his car into park before jumping out and hauling ass towards the back office. Maybe Julie would know where Janie was.

  Recognizable voices came from the office. “She’s having a good time—she deserves it,” Julie’s soft voice stated matter-of-factly.

  “Look, I know what I heard. It’s more than that. She’s into this guy.”

  “Kyle, you of all people should know that what you hear isn’t always how it is,” Danny reminded him.

  “Who’s into what guy?” Max growled, knowing that he wasn’t going to like the answer. Identical looks of surprise covered their faces as Kyle, Danny, and Julie all turned to see Max standing in the office door. He could feel the warmth in his cheeks as he clenched his fists. He watched as shock morphed into what looked like relief for Danny and Julie, and shame for Kyle.

  “Max,” Danny said calmly. ”Come sit down.”

  “I am not sitting down, Danny. I only came here to see if Julie knew where Janie was tonight.” He trained his gaze to Julie. “Apparently you do. Tell me where she is.”

  Julie opened her mouth to speak, but Kyle cut her off. “Max, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, man. I heard Janie and Lyla talking on Thursday night. I just couldn’t bring myself to be the one to tell you…again.” Kyle’s eyes were downcast, his posture drawn in tight. Max could feel the turmoil radiating from his friend.

  “Kyle, this isn’t your problem.” The memory of the day Kyle told him that Chloe had been cheating on him flashed through Max’s mind. They’d barely known each other at the time and that bit of information changed Max’s life forever. Reaching over, he placed his hand on his friend’s arm. “We’re good, man. This isn’t your fault…it’s mine.”

  Lifting his head once again to Juli
e’s, he begged. “Please, Julie. You were right, I made a mistake. Tell me where she is.”

  With the information he needed, he turned on a booted foot and ran out of the office, through the bar, and out to his car. The sound of screeching tires and the smell of burning rubber were the only signs that Max had even been there.

  Sitting on the front patio of the White Knight restaurant, Janie sipped her wine and listened while Owen regaled her with tales of his latest eighth-grade pseudo-stalker.

  “What do they expect me to do? Be like, ‘Oh, okay, I love you too…as soon as you’re eighteen we’ll get married’? I mean, honestly,” he teased. Janie laughed at his story and at the silly way he described his reactions to his students. He truly didn’t understand how they could be so attracted to him, and it made him even hotter. I bet even the fourteen-year-old girls could pick up on that, she thought to herself.

  He reached his hand over the table, lacing his fingers with hers. The light from the fire pit cast a warm glow on his skin as a beautiful smile slowly spread across his mouth. “A penny for your thoughts?”

  Keeping her hand nestled in his, she rubbed her thumb along his knuckles. “Oh, Owen…my thoughts…”

  Janie wasn’t sure which came first, the small hairs standing up on the back of her neck or the deep growl that said, “You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

  Janie whipped her head to the right. The low partition separating the sidewalk traffic from the diners wasn’t enough of a barrier to ward off the anguish that pulsed off Max’s body. As her eyes traveled up, for once, it seemed as though she could read his emotions. Sadness, frustration, and contempt? Was he angry? She watched as his glare shifted to Owen and hardened even more.

  When Max first walked up and saw Janie holding hands with her date, fingers tangled in an intimate caress, he felt a pain in his heart. But when he recognized who the mystery man was, he felt like he had been punched in the gut. Anger bubbled out of his mouth before he could control it.

  Janie looked at Owen and saw his own expression was full of sadness and something that looked like shame. He removed his fingers from her grasp and stood up to face Max eye to eye.

  “Really, Owen?” Max hissed. “Christ, I’d hoped to never see you again, you lying motherfucker. You called yourself my friend? Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find out?”

  “Max, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I—” Remorse was pouring out of Owen’s mouth. Max’s nostrils flared as his fists tightened. The other diners stared at the scene that was playing out like dinner theater. As if scripted, the hum of a motorcycle pulled up to the sidewalk, and Gage was immediately by Max’s side.

  “Step back, brother,” Gage said with a tense voice. Just then, Ashley and Lyla came running up the street in their stiletto heels. Lyla had her cell to her ear and was reassuring Danny that she would call him as soon as the situation was under control. If the predicament weren’t so serious, Janie would have been laughing at the public display. But it was and she wasn’t.

  Owen looked at Janie. “Do you remember the situation I told you about from high school?” Janie knew exactly what Owen was referring to. They had discussed it a couple of times—Owen had slept with the girlfriend of a good friend of his. At the time he knew it was wrong, but the girl was “hot” (his words) and she kept throwing herself at him. Owen had explained that back then, he finally gave in to the girl, but after the one night they were together, he couldn’t look his friend in the eye ever again. He said he’d spent the rest of his senior year practically avoiding him, without ever giving a reason. While the guilt weighed on him for years, it wasn’t until he caught his fiancé cheating on him with his best friend that what he did really hit home. He had spent the past few years licking his wounds and trying to be a better man. While hearing about Owen’s heartbreak was sad, Janie was thrilled that he had offered her information about his past and that he was willing to put it behind him.

  Owen hedged around the table and out of the gated area, onto the sidewalk.

  “Stay the fuck away from me,” Max snarled. “You never cared about our friendship. You fucked my Chloe. When you knew I loved her.” His eyes darted from Owen to Janie and back. “And now…now that I’ve finally allowed myself to love again, you’re gonna take Janie, too?”

  Janie had no idea what was going on around her. Her head was spinning. Did he just say love?

  “What did you just say?” she asked quietly, her voice paralyzed with incredulity. She waited a beat, but no one answered her. They were all too busy watching for impending signs of violence. She got up from the table and walked over to the assembly on the sidewalk.

  “Look, Max.” Owen scrubbed his fingers over his hair. “We were kids. I’m not making any excuses, I was an asshole. We were friends, and I gave that up for what I thought at the time was a piece of ass.”

  Owen’s words felt like a knife twisting in his gut. “A piece of ass? Dammit, Owen, I married her! She was my wife!” He let out a laugh that held no humor. “Christ, you should’ve just taken her…you would have saved me twenty years of hell.”

  Wife? “What the hell is going on?” Janie demanded.

  That finally got the attention of all of the people around her.

  Owen’s eyes were red-rimmed and damp when he answered. “Janie, Max was the friend.”

  Max couldn’t hear what Owen was saying. He saw the man’s lips moving, but his mind only registered the closeness of Owen’s and Janie’s bodies. The woman he loved, the woman he wanted more than air, was facing Owen with her hand on his shoulder. With jealousy and hurt to fuel his fire, Max threw the first and only punch, landing it square on Owen’s jaw.

  Owen used what looked like sheer will to keep himself standing and stared at Max. “You feel better now? I deserved that. I think I’ve been waiting for it for years.”

  Gage grabbed onto Max’s arm to ensure his friend would stay his next punch, and Janie just stood there stunned. She looked at Owen’s face and watched a trickle of blood seep out of the angry cut on his mouth. Words flooded her brain. Her mind refused to put the pieces together.

  Lyla saw her confusion and stroked her hand, the way she always did when Janie was upset and words wouldn’t help. So, it was true.

  Janie turned to look at Max. “You were married?” she croaked.

  Hurt and shame were etched on the features of Max’s beautiful face as he nodded. But Janie refused to see those things—all she could see was the man who’d kept himself closed off and hidden. The man who refused her, left her, and turned her away.

  Janie faced Owen and placed her palm on his bruised face. “You’re bleeding. We need to go and take care of you.” She reached over the partition and grabbed a napkin from their table, gently dabbing the open wound. Her heart was pounding as the levity of the situation began to process in her mind.

  Trying to keep a steady hand as she tended to Owen, she spoke loud enough for her watchful audience to hear. “Owen, we’ve discussed this. You’ve beaten yourself up over the past for too long. It’s time to let it go. Let’s move on.” She let Owen to hold the napkin himself and turned to approach Max. His face was a canvas finally painted with emotions. Funny, she thought, I would have welcomed any one of those before today. But now, now she was pissed.

  Max watched as she took two purposeful strides towards him. He could see the hurt and anger blazing from her once tranquil eyes.

  “You, Max DeLucca, are the son of a bitch.” She could feel her heart thumping as if it were going to pound out of her chest, and her skin felt one size too small. “You didn’t want me until you knew I was with someone else. You didn’t ‘love’ me until you saw me sitting at a table with him!” she said, pointing her thumb back to Owen. “Now, you come beating your chest and declaring your love for me? How dare you.” Her eyes pooled with tears she refused to shed. “I gave you love, I gave you me. I gave you everything, and you took it. What did you give me back? Nothing,” she screamed, not caring that spying eyes w
ere everywhere. She pulled her fists down by her sides in hopes of keeping their trembling from being visible.

  “I’ve known you for months. I considered you a close friend.” The more was silently implied. “And never, never once did you mention being married. I’ve known Owen a couple of weeks, and I know more about this Chloe from him than I ever knew about you.” She stopped to catch her breath. She could feel sweat, and maybe even blood, in her palms from the force of her nails digging into the skin. “I kept thinking I understood. I kept thinking I would be okay with whatever you gave me, but you know what, Max?”

  Janie didn’t wait for answer before continuing. “The truth is you never trusted me with your past, your pain, or your heart.” She laughed coldly at something. “Oh right, you told me you don’t have a heart to give. Well, you got your point across. I believe you now.”

  She looked around at her friends who were watching her come undone and said, “I’m not sure what you all knew before coming here today”—she looked pointedly at Lyla—“I can only assume you knew nothing.” Lyla nodded her answer. “I love each of you, I’m sure you tried your best to shield me from this…mess, but you, Max, you can get the hell out of my life. I am too Goddamn good for this shit.” She turned and walked back toward Owen and linked her arm in his. “Come on, let’s go get this checked out.”

  “Janie,” Max pleaded.

  She paused midstep and looked back as her first tear fell. “Go to hell, Max” was all she said as she took long strides down the street to Owen’s car.

  Max felt his heart breaking. It was a feeling that he had never felt before. Not even after Chloe left him. Not even when she died. This was a pain that was unbearable, and he was the one who caused it. He wanted to follow Janie, wanted to make her understand that he loved her. He was choosing her, and he was willing to tell her everything. He was finally ready. But she chose someone else. He finally pushed her away hard enough to make her stop wanting him. How the hell was he going to get through this?