“You remember where the kitchen is,” I said, walking past her into that room. She followed more slowly. It was still sort of early, so I didn’t have to rush to get ready to go see Mom the way I had the other day when Cassie had been over. I opened the fridge and pulled a beer out.
“You drink that; you aren’t driving,” she said. I popped the bottle cap off and handed it to her.
“It was for you,” I said with a smile. She frowned and took it from me, putting it on the counter.
“What? You don’t like beer anymore?”
“I never liked it. I used to drink it because it was the easiest thing to drink illegally,” she said.
“I probably have Jack Daniels somewhere in here, but it’s only four in the afternoon,” I said.
“Clear liquor only,” she said, “it’s easier to put in a bottle and pretend its water.”
I wanted like shit for her to be the teacher who chugged tequila on the job, but that wasn’t her. She was a nice girl. At least she was five years ago. I walked past her pulling my shirt off. The laundry room was just off the kitchen. I didn’t need to take it all the way upstairs with me. I tossed it on top of the washing machine and walked back out into the kitchen.
“If I had to deal with all those kids, I’d be driven to drink too,” I said. I saw her eyes move down my body. After fucking my back up during football, there were a lot of things I couldn’t do in the gym anymore. I could do them provided I wanted a one-way ticket to snap city. Conventional deadlifts and squats were out. I had to go to a commercial gym because they had all those ergonomic, high-tech, fancy machines, adapted for even the most disabled of us to use easily.
During recovery, I was down most of the time, mostly just making sure I could still walk and move all my limbs. Getting back to the gym after that I got that initial rapid muscle gain before it had tapered off. These gains were hard-earned. I was finally heavier than I had been when I was playing. I didn’t need to be anymore, but it was the honey and vinegar thing again. Girls looked at your pecs before your personality.
“Eyes up, babe,” I said, grabbing the beer from behind her on the counter. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right down… unless you want to come up and help me with these pants.”
“Hm, maybe once I get some of that Jack Daniels in me I might,” she said. I laughed and went up the stairs to my room. She wasn’t mad dogging me anymore. She was busting my balls which was one small step before she was letting me under that tight little sweater.
I drank most of the beer while getting dressed. It was the watery stuff that Will brought over because he liked it. It had about the same amount of alcohol as cough syrup. I put my usual uniform on before going back down to see what Olivia had gotten up to. When I came back downstairs, she was holding a framed photo. She looked up at me when she heard me enter the room, and put the picture down. She looked at my clothes but kept whatever questions she had to herself.
“I have to buy some flowers on the way,” I told her.
“Whatever, just hurry it up.”
“Why are you so upset?” I asked her. She hadn’t bothered to hide her irritation when she had said that.
“Because I’m here, with you, about to go God knows where. I have to be your personal driver till your bike gets fixed.”
“Whose fault is that, babe?”
“I’m not the only person you could have asked to help you out with this.”
That was true. She wasn’t. Renting a car was very easy. Also, the better option for all of us, probably, but it wasn’t the option that gave her no other choice but to talk to me. Even if she didn’t want to talk to me, she would have to listen.
“True, but really, you’re the person who should,” I said. She turned away from me and headed for the door.
“I’m waiting by the car. Hurry up,” she said. She didn’t slam the door when she closed it, but she closed it like it had done something to her. Maybe I should tone it down. She obviously felt bad about what had happened to my bike. I felt bad about it too. It was my ass that couldn’t use it anymore. I didn’t want to punish her, but as soon as she didn’t have to be around me anymore, she wouldn’t be. I had to talk to her.
During the ride to the facility, she was totally silent again, which ticked me off. There was literally five years’ worth of shit she could have talked about, and she was choosing to say nothing. Maybe she was better quiet because maybe that was all that was keeping her from biting my head off.
“Your mom lives here? Why does she live in an old folks’ home?” she asked suddenly as we got close to the building complex.
“It’s assisted living, not an old folks’ home. She developed Alzheimer’s disease a few years back and progressed really fast. She can’t live alone anymore, and neither Colin nor I could give her full care.”
“Why did you bring me here? She doesn’t want to see me.”
“The more familiar people she sees, the better for her,” I said, which was true. The fact that I was sick of doing this alone and wanted support was also true, but I left that part out.
“Alex… I don’t know how I feel about this.”
“It’ll be fine. We just have to stay until it’s time for dinner. Come on.”
The facility, if you didn’t know what it was, seemed like a really nice bed-and-breakfast. I hoped that would calm Olivia down a little. The other thing I could have done was hold her hand, which had brushed against the back of mine a couple times as we walked, but I was smarter than that. I had already fucked up her whole afternoon.
Mom was in the common room, and she was cross-stitching, something she had never done before she came here. They had them do shit like that which helped their fine motor function. I knew how it went. During recovery from my back injury, they had me pick marbles up off the floor with my toes to make sure I had motion and sensation in them.
“There she is,” I whispered to Liv. “Mom,” I called to her. She looked up from her work, and a smile broke across her face.
“Alex,” Mom said. I sighed in relief. Good day. “Oh, Alex you brought Olivia,” she said. Olivia smiled and let my mother hug her.
“Why don’t you come to the house on the weekends anymore, Olivia?” she asked.
So… maybe not such a good day. She knew who I was, and who Liv was, but she was probably remembering us from five years back. The reason why she didn’t come round the house on weekends anymore was because we weren’t in high school anymore. Olivia—obviously confused—looked up at me.
“She’s just really busy, Mom. She got a job,” I said.
“But you have to have some time off,” she said. She made Olivia sit with her and tell her how her family was doing. Olivia, like a champ, went with the flow. Mom had always really liked her. It was because she was nice, and smart, and ambitious. She didn’t have a reputation or sleep around like the girls she had discouraged me from going after. She didn’t know what Liv and I would do when we were alone, but she didn’t need to know. Her high opinion of Liv was a big part of why I liked her. I liked her regardless, but it helps when your mom likes your girl too.
We left just as Mom was leaving for dinner. Olivia sat in the passenger seat as I drove her car.
“I can’t imagine how that feels,” she said.
“How what feels?” I asked. She was talking to me.
“Seeing your mom like that. It must be heartbreaking.” She sniffed a little. Was she crying?
“Yeah, it’s pretty shitty,” I said. “Depending on the day she’ll forget who I am.”
“You don’t have to try and act like it doesn’t hurt, Lex,” she said, looking at me. Her eyes were glassy, but there were no tears anywhere. Though if we kept talking about Mom, there probably would be.
“Where are you going after this?” I asked her, changing the subject. I didn’t talk about what was happening. I just didn’t. All it did was make me feel like shit, and I was useless to Mom if I was just a wreck.
“Home.”
“I’ll be there,” she said, sniffing again. I appreciated that she was moved by seeing my mom; I just wished she didn’t feel so bad about it. She was going to get me going, and we didn’t need to both be sad-sacks.
There was a chance that the only reason she was agreeing to see me again was my mother, but shit…
… I was going to take it.
8
Olivia
“Here it is.”
James swung the door open and let me walk in before him.
I didn’t know that much about James to begin with, but I wasn’t expecting what I saw when he opened the door. His house was in the city—downtown—so I could only imagine what the rent was. It was a two-bedroom loft, and the space looked like the sort of places you see advertised on Airbnb. As in, gorgeous.
There wasn’t a lot of furniture, but the pieces he did have were really nice. The coffee table was rough and oddly shaped. It looked like a slice taken right out of the trunk of a tree and stuck on some legs. There was what appeared to be an entire cowhide rug on the floor underneath it. There was no television or drapes in the windows. You didn’t really need them this high up, but it was an interesting style choice. The walls were completely bare; no art or anything, save for the shelves, stacked with books, boxes and other knick-knacks. I wasn’t mad, but I was a little embarrassed. It was so nice in there. The guy was cleaner and tidier than me.
“So?”
“James, this place is amazing.”
“It’s a pretty cool space. Let me show you the bedroom,” he said. “Not that bedroom… the extra one… The one-”
“I know what you mean. Lead the way.”
He led me through the apartment.
“Oh, I forgot to mention. I hope you aren’t allergic to cats,” he said.
The cat was asleep on the windowsill in the empty room. It was black and white and had long hair. It was the kind with the squashed in face that always looked mad. It looked like that awful cat Lucifer from Disney’s Cinderella. I could already see all that hair getting all over my clothes. I was not a cat person, but to answer his question; no, I wasn’t allergic. He walked over to it and scratched it behind the ears. It stretched out exposing its belly. I tried not to make a face.
“Nope, not allergic. What’s the… uh, little guy’s name?”
I hated cats. They looked at you like they knew too much. They hated us. They hated us. They basically lived with people because people were dumb enough to feed them.
“President Josiah Bartlet,” he said. How nice. It had a human name. It had a president’s name. I appreciated a fellow fan of the greatest political drama that has ever been on television, but I still hated cats. How dare he name that thing after President Bartlet? He was scratching the cat’s belly. Now that it was stretched out, I could tell that it was massive. It was really fat. What the hell did he feed it?
“You don’t like cats?” he asked.
“Is it that obvious?”
“I hope that doesn’t mean you won’t move in.”
“I have to say; he’s a pretty strong deterrent.” The cat had its head turned to the side. Its eyes weren’t the same color. I frowned watching it.
“How much is rent?”
“Thirteen hundred.”
I cringed.
“So, six fifty each,” I said. He nodded.
“What do you think?”
The room was a pretty good size. I walked over to the closets and slid them open. There was enough space to hang all my dresses and jackets, and there were enough cupboards for the other stuff.
“Do we have to share a bathroom?”
“Yeah, there’s a half-bath, but just one full bathroom.”
Not great. My own bathroom would have been nice, but the lack of one wasn’t a deal breaker. The sun was shining in through the window which meant I would be able to see the sunset from the window, but it also meant it would be shining into the room for hours into the night during summer.
“Do you have any weird habits I should know about?” I asked.
“None. Do you? Do you have a book club or something you’ll want to have over?”
“Nope.”
“So how about it?”
“Do we just shake for now, or do we go over the official documentation already?” I asked.
His face brightened up.
“We don’t have to do all that stuff until you have your stuff here.”
“Sounds good, roomie,” I said sticking my hand out. He shook it. Why was he so excited at the thought of having a roommate? Was he that desperate for someone to help him pick up the rent on this place? It was really nice. I could understand him not wanting to move out.
That was that. I had a house. I didn’t have to accidentally walk in on Rick in the bathroom or hear he and Iris having sex ever again. I couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of that house. I’d start packing the minute I got home.
I went directly home after James’s house because baby clothes stores don’t tend to be open late in the night. I hated doing things at the last minute, but I could still get out tomorrow or Sunday before the shower to get her something. The baby shower was a rush job, and now I was being rushed on the gift. Because of the actual planning, I hadn’t found the time to go get her anything. Losing the afternoon the day before to see Alex’s mom had also been a pain. Not seeing Deana—Alex’s mom—but just the fact that I was running out of time.
Couldn’t I be exempted from it because I was going to be providing my babysitting services in the future?
When I got to the house, Rick and Hayden were watching television over pizza. I found Iris in the kitchen eating something covered in whipped cream.
“Hey, where’d you go?” she asked.
“House-hunting. I found somewhere. I’ll be out of you and your husband’s hair as soon as I can pack all my stuff up.”
“Really? Where?”
“Downtown. It’s a loft.”
“Yeah? For how much?”
“Six-fifty. It’s a room, really. I’m moving in with James.”
“That guy from your school? Your TA?”
“Yep.”
“Nice,” she said.
“Try to be a little more tepid with your congratulations, Iris,” I said.
“No, I’m happy for you. I just didn’t think you would move out of here to just another place where you lived with people again.”
“I don’t have the luxury of being picky, Iris.”
“Don’t you ever want to live alone?” she asked.
Iris, in all her years, had not. If you counted the brief time she was in college, then there was an almost two-year period when she had lived alone, but that was with a roommate in a college dorm, so it didn’t even count. Why was she in more of a hurry for me to live on my own than I was? I didn’t mind having a roommate. I knew James. It wasn’t like I was moving in with a stranger.
There was a chance, however small, that Iris had a little bit of envy when it came to our two lives. She always joked about how lucky I was to be single and not have any stretch marks from childbirth, but there I was, just trying to move into a house where I lived with zero members of my family. Maybe you always wanted what you didn’t have. And didn’t fully appreciate what you did. I didn’t want Iris’s life. I just wanted the happiness it seemed to bring her. She probably didn’t want to be twenty-three and single like me either; she just wanted the freedom that came with it.
“I think it’ll be fun living with him,” I said.
“Let’s hope for your sake he isn’t the kind of guy that doesn’t like putting pants on.”
I frowned. If he was that would have to change real quick. I had never viewed James as anything other than a colleague. I felt that seeing him without a shirt on would not have the same effect that seeing Alex without a shirt on had had. He looked a lot heavier than he was in high school—muscle heavy, not fat heavy. He di
dn’t look like he had a spare ounce on him. He had always sort of been a gym rat, but he looked almost like a bodybuilder now. Not the huge ones whose arms couldn’t lie flat on the sides of their bodies because their backs were so wide, but the type who modeled athletic wear and advertised powdered muscle foods. He would drink those protein shakes like they weren’t completely gross and a waste of money. Speaking of Alex…
“Hey, I wanted to ask, did you know that Alex Kilgariff was back?” I said to Iris.
“Hm? Who?”
“You remember, Alex. My boyfriend in high school.”
“The one you used to sneak into your room and ask me to cover for you?”
“Did you know he was back in town?”
“No, Ollie, I don’t keep track of the movement of your exes. Why?”
“I saw him the other day. I ran into him with my car.”
“Oh shit, did you kill him?” she asked facetiously.
“No. But I fucked his bike up. He’s making me drive him around everywhere.”
“So he hasn’t changed. Same old asshole he’s always been. Tell me, did he get fat?”
“No, he didn’t get fat. He looks the same… but like, better. Hotter.”
“Oh god, you aren’t taking a trip down that road again, are you?”
“What? No… I wouldn’t. It’s been so long. It would be weird now.”
“Good.” She pursed her lips and kept eating her whipped cream thing.
I looked at her. I didn’t like how satisfied she sounded at the thought of me not seeing Alex again. I wasn’t really contemplating it, but since she seemed against it, I wanted to know why. What if I had told her that I was?
“Why good?”
“Come on, Ollie.”
“No really, why?” I had dated worse men. What was the problem with this one?
“Oh, so you’ve forgotten the summer before you went to college? You didn’t leave your room for two months; you lost like fifteen pounds or something. You were like a widow.”
Alex (Heartbreakers & Troublemakers Book 3) Page 6
