Miles

by H. J. Bellus

  “They do when they have owies,” Miles whispers.

  “Lacey is coming to pick me up to take me home, so you can go to work.”

  Miles rests his head on top of mine and continues to stroke my hair, and lets out a loud puff of air. “I want you to stay here.”

  “Miles—”

  Before I finish my thought, he interrupts me. “I know. Too pushy, right? You know, I just figured by stuffing those little bastard cupcakes into that box, I might have earned me a point or two.”

  I start laughing at his description of my bastard cupcakes and the image of him stuffing them in a box. Oh good lord, I hope they’re halfway presentable.

  “Come see me tonight, deal?”

  “Deal. But if I’m being honest, Tripp scares the piss out of me.”

  Through my laughter, I manage to say, “He shouldn’t. He has a heart of gold.”

  The next however many minutes escape us as Miles holds me in his arms as his friend.

  “Oh my God! It doesn’t smell like sex in here at all. Couldn’t get the fella up, Miles? I sure in the hell didn’t target you as a softy.” Enter Lacey, holding a bundle of pink with bright blonde hair peeking out from the blankets. I really need to invest in a muzzle for this girl. I climb from Miles’ lap and start to grab my things.

  “Oh sweet Jesus, I see now why he couldn’t get it up. Your face. Holy mother lovin’ hell, it looks like—”

  “Enough. I know how I look. I’ll meet you in the car.”

  “Okay, Jabba the Hutt. Gonna grab some lemon bars first.”

  Lacey whirls around on a mission to steal her favorite dessert and I turn to Miles. “It’s not Tripp you have to worry about.” With a hug and a quick kiss, I make my way to the door.

  “Do I have an owie?” Miles asks.

  “You have a scrape on your knuckle.”

  An hour later:

  Miles: How are you feeling?

  Willow: Who is this?

  Miles: Your new friend

  Willow: which one? I have so many, you know with my lovable personality and all…

  Miles: you know the one with the best sheets ever and the hot body you tried to molest with your eyes last night.

  Willow: oh my kissing friend…my fave one

  Miles: see you tonight

  Willow: Can’t wait

  “Why are you smiling at your phone like a crazed clown killer? I think you need to cool it on the pain pills, Sis,” Tripp says.

  “It’s because she’s in love. Miles and Willow sitting in a tree…” Lacey taunts from the kitchen. I forgot I had an audience. Tripp is home for lunch and clearly enjoying the show.

  I throw the nearest pillow in Lacey’s direction from the couch, and in retaliation she throws a piece of pepper jack cheese my way. I snag the cheese and flip her the bird.

  “Oh, you cheeky little cunt,” Lacey yells as she makes her way to me.

  “God damn it, Lacey, clean up your fucking mouth,” Tripp yells with baby Rose snuggled up on his chest sleeping.

  Lacey ignores the scolding from Tripp, but in her defense she receives about twenty of them a day. Whoever thought motherhood would tame down Lacey was dead wrong. Her fiery attitude has quadrupled since Rose was born. I have pity on the poor fool who crosses Rose. Between Tripp and Lacey, they’re likely to die a very long, horrid death.

  Lacey pounces on me. By pouncing, I mean jumps on me, straddles me, and goes for my phone. It was either the cheese or my phone, and with my tummy growling, I chose to save the cheese.

  “Oh, this is juicy shit.”

  Tripp makes his way over to the couch, lays Rose on my chest, and kisses the top of Lacey’s head. He keeps himself lowered so he can read the texts along with her. His eyebrows shoot up as I reposition Rose. With Lacey straddled across my hips and my brother peering down at my phone, I wait for the verdict.

  Moments pass and Trip asks, “Why in the fuck do you know how his sheets feel?”

  “Babe, they didn’t do the nasty. There was absolutely no trace of sex in the air, I can attest to that. I want to know how he got your number finally.”

  “I want to know why in the fuck you’re kissing your friends,” Tripp demands right after Lacey.

  “He must have saved it in his phone when I was sleeping at one point because I never gave it to him,” I suggest.

  “That’s hot. That’s like movie shit romance right there,” Lacey declares as she elbows Tripp in the gut.

  “I need to get to know this ass on a deeper level,” Tripp responds.

  “Tripp, you have spent plenty of time with him,” I remind my big brother, who is now in full attack mode.

  “I don’t know him as in ‘I’m the guy that wants to boink your sister.’ That takes getting to know on a whole new level.”

  “Fine then, because he’s kinda coming to see me tonight,” I squeak out.

  “Perfect.” Tripp chuckles.

  To say Tripp has become over protective since I moved in is an understatement. I do believe it’s time to start praying.

  Chapter 8

  Movie Night

  Dear Little Notebook,

  Friends. We have been friends for a little over three weeks. Friends that kiss occasionally, cuddle excessively and deliberately brush up against each other’s very private parts. Miles is currently my life. We spend every evening together, take Annie out on Mondays and Wednesdays, and we even added Thursday movie nights at Miles’ place.

  I told him that I can only spend one night a week in his bed because I don’t trust myself to not give in. The harsh reality is that my heart is in love with Miles, but not ready to be broke again. He never complains about not moving faster. We do have a running joke about his constant boner.

  Cree and I have melded back into our comfortable relationship. Tripp has grilled Miles about every part of his life. Lacey continues to beg me to measure Miles’ dick. And Milly is constantly holding her breath praying for my happiness

  I’m not confident enough to say it out loud to anyone, but I can whisper it here in my journal. I think I am happy, very happy for the first time in a long time.

  Happy,

  Willow

  Tonight is movie night. Our movie nights consist of buying tons of shit at the store, arguing over a movie (I always win) and crashing at Miles’ place. Just like kids, we eat in the bed, throw our cans on the ground, and stay up way too late. Last week¸ I begged Miles to rent Where the Red Fern Grows and we both ended up bawling like babies.

  Miles tried to lighten the mood by tickling me and that night we went from kissing friends to make out friends. A call from Miles’ boss put the brakes on our sucking face session. I would have let Miles take every single piece of me that night. The memory of Miles towering over me and lifting his shirt off his head effortlessly and then covering my body with his lips ravaging mine will always be my favorite.

  We both growled our irritation at being interrupted and then he went out on a service call. Apparently, an eighteen wheeler broke down out on the highway and Miles was on call. During our drive I wrote in my notebook, and Miles and I made a pact to name our future dogs Dan and Annie. We both signed the page.

  Only three more hours until Miles will walk through that door and we get our night started. I can’t believe I have turned into that girl. The girl who gushes over a guy only because he makes her feel that way. Miles makes me believe that I deserve him and his love.

  Ding!

  I look up to see her. Greyson’s wife. I’m the only one in the shop for the next couple hours, so no avoiding this train wreck. Think Miles, channel his love, gather your courage, you can do this, Willow. Then my eyes land on her protruding belly, and all thoughts of hope and bravery drain out of me. She’s having Greyson’s baby. The thought of him being excited about it takes me back to that day, the day he handed me the check. My eyes quickly avert from their growing baby to a lone fortune cookie on my workstation and I suddenly remember what love is supposed to feel like. I rememb
er Miles and I instantly want him. I need him to forget the hurt and loss Greyson bestowed upon me. I need Miles right now.

  “Um. Excuse me. Are you Willow?”

  I grip onto my phone, needing to call Miles, and unable to respond.

  “Um, hello.”

  “Yes,” I barely whisper as I directly try to force my tears back down.

  “Okay, well, I’m Roxy. I’m new in town. Actually, I married Greyson. I believe he’s a close family friend of yours. Well, anyway, I need to order a cake for my baby shower. My mom and sister are throwing it, but they won’t be in town in time to order it. Greyson told me specifically not to come here, but I saw your work at the Henderson wedding last week and was amazed. I’m sure Grey-Grey thought a small town bakery wouldn’t do me justice, but your work is simply amazing.”

  Roxy is now sitting on Miles’ barstool, acting as if she’s at home and ready to make a new BFF.

  “Just a second and I’ll be with you.”

  I turn my back, and type out a text to Miles.

  Willow: I need you right now. Please come to bakery

  With a boulder in my throat and a dagger in my heart, I respond. “Nice to meet you, Roxy. What exactly are you looking for?”

  “We just found out we’re having a girl! I’m so excited. I’ve never seen Greyson cry, but when we found out the gender, he could only hang his head and cry. He kept repeating over and over that he didn’t deserve two perfect girls in his life. So, I want pink. Like everything pink. Pink, pink, pink.”

  Miles: I am busy babe. Hands in grease.

  Willow: Please

  I keep my head down, pen in hand. “Okay, what type of cakes would you like?”

  “I found this cake on Pinterest. It’s three tiers with lots of flowers and a picture of the expecting parents on top. I also want an order of cupcakes.”

  “Flavor of cakes you want?” I ask, as I take notes furiously.

  I keep my phone in my right hand, willing Miles to text me back. I want him to walk in and save me. Take me away from everything.

  “I want the cake to be vanilla, but the actual cake pink. Do you know how to do that?”

  “So, you want a white cake colored pink. Yeah, pretty sure I can handle that one.”

  “Okay, and then I want the cupcakes to be chocolate, but with lots of pink icing on them.”

  “Clearly, I have the memo, freaking pink.”

  “’Kay ’kay.”

  “Did you just say ’kay ’kay?”

  “Yeah! Here’s Greyson’s card, just charge everything to him.”

  I take the gray plastic card from her hand and notice the huge diamond on her finger. Roxy catches me staring, and nonchalantly rubs her belly, showing off both of her prizes from Greyson. If only she knew the true Greyson.

  “What do you girls do for fun around here?”

  “I don’t know. I work.”

  I don’t want to talk, nor do I want her in my shop, and I definitely don’t want to make her fucking putrid pink cake and cupcakes for her motherfucking baby shower. I run the card quickly, not even realizing the amount I charged Greyson. At this point, I will fucking donate all this shit for her to leave.

  “Are you expecting someone?” Roxy asks, and points to my hand.

  I realize that I’ve been holding my phone this whole time. Unable to speak, I just nod my head.

  Ding!

  Miles. Thank God, Miles.

  Throwing the card at Roxy, I round the corner to jump into Miles’ arms. When I look up I see a breathless Greyson standing before me with his hands raised behind his head and remorse covering his face.

  “I’m sorry, Willow. I am so sorry. I told her to not come here.”

  “Get out. Get the fuck out now. Both of you get the FUCK out,” I scream.

  Roxy is speechless for the first time since entering and is completely shocked. Her hands instinctively cover her protruding womb to protect her baby from my yelling. She’s actually scared of me? This bitch has no clue.

  “Listen, Roxy. You don’t have to worry about me hurting your little girl. Greyson, here, pays for his babies to be killed. Consider yourself lucky that he wanted to keep yours.”

  Roxy gasps in horror and races over to Greyson.

  “I know you’re fucking stupid, Greyson, but are you deaf, too? Get out.”

  Greyson spins Roxy around and they make their way out The Shop.

  “What’s she talking about, Greyson?” Roxy’s shaky voice fills the air.

  It takes everything inside me to not fucking throw something at the back of his head as he walks away with his perfectly wrapped future. I grip my phone and breathe in and out. Focus. Focus on my breathing. In and out, Willow. In and out. You can do this. Miles is going to text or come any second. Be strong. My journal. Where is my journal.

  Racing back behind the counter, I find it in my purse. Then I open the drawer that hasn’t been open for months. It’s the one place that holds the only picture of my baby. It has faded, but I can still make out the little bean amongst the gray fuzzies. I gasp in horror and the door in my heart that has held all the rotting decay of a broken soul busts open and spills onto the counter in front of me. The strong stench of the carnage is too overwhelming. The picture immediately starts to burn my fingertips and I have to let it go.

  It’s time to tell my story—all of it. Finding a pen, I will myself to write, but not before the memory of that night invades.

  Now in my childhood home, ready to drop the biggest news of my life to my brother and Milly, nestled deep down in my favorite couch cushion, with my great grandma’s patchwork quilt draped over my body. The quilt was my shield, a shield, to fend off my brother’s inevitable disapproval, Milly’s future gasps of horror, and Greyson’s solution to our problem. Our problem, as he put it.

  “What’s going on, Willow? We cancelled on Tripp and Lacey. They’re taking Annie to the fair. This is going to be the first year I miss taking her to the fair,” Cree said as he flopped down in his recliner, clearly annoyed with me.

  Milly snapped in, “Cree, that’s enough. Obviously, it’s important if your sister has called both of us here.”

  “Fine. Go, sis,” he muttered.

  “Wait. Didn’t you say Greyson was coming with you?” Milly interrupted me, before I could drop the bomb.

  “Jesus Christ, get on with the show.” Cree says.

  That was it. My brother’s impatient act was enough to put me over the edge.

  “You know what, asshole? The fucking world doesn’t revolve around you, Cree. I have stood by your side through all of your bullshit, and just let me tell you it hasn’t been a carnival ride. I need you right now. I need my brother right now, not this bastard throwing a hissy fit over not going to a freakin’ fair,” I screamed as I threw the blanket at him.

  Cree’s jaw hit the floor. I was never one to raise my voice, let alone tell off my brother or stand up for myself. Well, that was about to change because it wasn’t only me anymore. In fact, a lot of changes were in order. It was my turn to have a life, be happy, and move on, with or without certain people in my life.

  “I’m sorry…” Cree tried to get out.

  “Just shut-up for once, please. Just shut-up. I’m pregnant. Greyson is the dad. He wrote me a check to get an abortion,” I said. Each word sliced my insides.

  They hurt when Greyson said them to my face. It was devastating when Greyson handed me the check. I wanted to purge and make my throat burn, but it was simple. I would never hurt the baby, no matter the amount of pain I was experiencing. Especially with petty desires for a man who obviously would never love me back. Then it destroyed every fiber of my being when Greyson texted me, pleading with me to get the actual abortion to solve our problem. That’s when I had decided that I needed my family, and at the time it was an easy decision to tell Cree, but now, sitting in front of his stunned, shocked body, I was rethinking that idea.

  “Never mind. I don’t know why I thought you would—” I tried
to say.

  “He asked you to get an abortion?” Cree asked.

  I simply nodded my head, and could feel the tears building up inside. I would control them and not allow anyone to see me hurting. My new golden rule transpired in that moment, no one would ever know how much pain was bottled up inside me, not even my family. This pain was mine, and might be the only thing I would have to hold on to.

  “Really, it’s okay. I’ve known for a long time that I’m not good enough for Greyson. It just hurts, you know?” I rambled on, without thinking much of the words that so easily flowed out of my mouth.

  “The fucker wanted you to get an abortion,” is the only thing Cree repeated before he got up out of his recliner and started to storm out of the house.

  Milly lurched for him, stopping him in his tracks. “Cree, what are you doing? You need to stay—”

  “I’m going to kill my best friend. That’s what I’m doing,” Cree yelled down into Milly’s face.

  At his words, Milly recoiled back in visible fear. That’s when Cree really lost it.

  “Fuck!” he roared as he fell to his knees.

  “Willow, I’m so sorry. What can I do for you? I knew what was happening and turned the other way. God, I’m so sorry, Sis. I allowed him to use you.” He sobbed into his hands.

  Milly dropped to her knees next to my brother, and I followed suit. My tears were safe to flow onto him for now. This was my safe place with Cree and Milly. Why I ever doubted the two was insane. Milly grounded Cree’s sanity, she was the foundation for our family and always there for me. More often than not she pissed me off, but I hear that’s what sisters are for, but in this moment all those things washed away with our tears.

  “I’m sorry, Cree. I’m sorry for putting you in this position, and I’m sorry that you always have to figure things out for our family. I’m—”

  “Shut up, Willow. Just shut up,” Milly interrupted me.

  “Yes, shut up. Don’t be sorry. I love you and I will love that baby now and forever. You know that,” Cree said calmly.