by K. S. Adkins
“When does this phase end?”
“I’m a woman,” I bellow. “It never ends.”
“Well, I get bloated if I drink beer too fast.”
“Wrong,” I say, pushing on his stomach. “You’re bloated right now.”
“No,” he says looking down. “I’m not bloated at all.”
“You wanted to stay,” I warn him. “I told you to go, but you wanted to be the hero. Well, guess what? You didn’t leave which means you’re bloated.”
“Periods aren’t contagious, Taylor.”
At the top of my lungs I screech, “If I’m bloated, you’re bloated!” Assessing the threat, he backs away but I forge on. “Oh no, you wanted in? You’re in. You aren’t backing out now. In fact, you won’t make it to the door.”
“Taylor,” he says, trying to calm me down. “You want that sedative?”
“You want to sedate me?”
“Right now?” he shrugs, kicking it around before answering, “Yes.”
And then I break into tears.
There is no reason for it, nor is it going to stop anytime soon no matter what I do. Running past him, I slam my bedroom door and fall into my bed in a tangle of flailing limbs and profanities. I do this until I run out of shit to scream about. Peeking inside, he quietly asks me, “Is it safe now?” and the innocence of it, the absurdity of it turned my sobs into laughter.
Having Van here is a sobering experience. I’m an emotional shit show, and yet he is trying to make me smile. For the next 3-5 business days, I am not capable of dealing with Taylor, the juggernaut, or making big decisions.
“So I, ah, went on Google and it told me ice cream makes it better. Hillary and Sugar confirmed this.”
Nodding my head vigorously, I agree. “Mint chocolate chip almost makes it worth it.”
“One scoop or two?” And giving him the look, he decides, “Three.”
“Four,” I correct. “And run red lights on your way back, if it’s melty I can’t promise I won’t backslide.”
“Hey, Taylor?”
“Hmm?”
“You scared me,” he says gently.
“I’m sorry I scared you.”
“Will it scare you if I tell you I won’t let you be alone for the next one?”
“No.” And I mean it.
“How about the one following the next one?”
“Still not scared.” Not a freak out in sight.
“Do you, ah, need tampons or anything?”
“Van?”
“Yeah?”
“Ice cream.”
“Thank fuck,” he grunts hauling ass out the door.
It seems like a lifetime ago Taylor agreed to my proposals.
When in actuality, it’s been less than two months.
While I’ve loved her for two years, her feelings for me are new.
Where I tell her I love her at every opportunity, she accepts it and replies with sex.
Until her, I hadn’t considered myself a greedy man. I’ve never had reason to be.
In the past, I would have resigned myself to love enough for the both of us.
But I am a greedy man.
I want the woman and the words.
So, when I share the news with my parents, it won’t be a lie.
I will speak true.
Evander Church has wanted this for two years. Taylor St. James has had less than two months.
Which leaves me conflicted.
And calling Sugar.
“Is she okay?” she asks in lieu of hello.
“She’s fine,” I promise. “But I’m not.”
“And?”
“And I need your advice.”
“You sure?”
To prove to her how sure I am, I start from the beginning. “Well? What do you think?”
“First, let me say, you risked a lot by calling me, Evander.”
“Worth it,” is my reply.
“We’ll call it the circle of trust,” she says absently. “Anyway, you can’t force this. Before you start being bossy, you need to listen. If Taylor wasn’t into you, you wouldn’t be in this dilemma. That means you’ve made it farther than anyone else. While she hasn’t admitted to being in love to me, or the Shit, the signs are there. But you went into this under false pretenses and I know her, Evander, and right now she’s struggling to play it by the rules you laid out.”
“I was worried about that.”
“You should be,” she agrees. “And you should also be patient.”
“I love her –”
“You’re not listening,” she mumbles.
“I am.”
“Good. Now, remember what India told you about Taylor and wishes. For Taylor, this is crunch time, which means making your mom’s wish come true is priority one. And if she ever finds out what I’m about to say I will retaliate.”
“Not a word,” I vow.
“She wants to please you, Evander.”
“I couldn’t be more pleased –”
“I never have this problem with women,” she complains. “Okay, Evander, you’re pleased, I get that. But she doesn’t. Let her do this and when the dust settles she’ll put you out of your misery. Hell, she’ll probably go all Princess Bride and whisper as you wish all cheesy and everything.”
Surely, she didn’t mean… “I’m sorry, what?”
“Ah,” she chuckles. “She’s said it, hasn’t she?”
“Sugar –”
“And with that, I bid you a buh-bye.”
Staring at my cell phone, I find myself clutching it, wondering…could she love me, too?
The party is days away and even though I’ve wanted to carve out time to speak to Van about the future, I haven’t been able.
Between his workload and mine, being an adult keeps getting in the way.
Well, that and other shit.
And what I have to say couldn’t be said in a text.
After my period nightmare, Van made me a copy of his key and I am supposed to be using it to let myself into his apartment to spend the night tonight. But Hillary has had a she-emergency, and I’ve been with her for the last two hours instead of heading to Van’s. While not seeing him blows, my friend needs me, so here I am.
To bring you up to speed, word is, Nolan has met someone.
Miss Misery isn’t handling it well.
In fact, I’ve had to sit on her to keep her from driving over to his apartment to kill him.
Sending Van a quick text, I explain that if I can make it, it’ll be late. He messages me back that it’s fine and that he is taking Scott up on a drink and cigar. Knowing he is going out makes me happy. And allows me to feel less guilty.
My next call is to Sugar for back up.
Hillary is in rare form and I need reinforcements.
Sugar gets here in record time and is currently reminding Hillary why her marriage didn’t work out in the first place. Hillary though, doesn’t give a shit why. She is giving a shit that he is finding his happy and she isn’t.
I don’t doubt she holds love for Nolan. But Hillary has never been head over heels for him. She has settled and we all know it. She’s known it and married him anyway. Nolan was safe, predictable, and rather boring. Plus, he allowed Hillary to manage him, until he’d had enough.
“How could he continue to sleep with me and her at the same time?”
Watching my words, I explain, “You’re separated. Not that it excuses him, Hillary, but you started dating, too.”
“Dating, yes,” she snaps. “Fucking, no.”
“He’s a guy,” Sugar rolls her eyes. “And he’s feeling insecure and shit. It’s what guys do.”
“But he’s mine!” Hillary wails.
“No, honey,” I say gently. “He’s not. Not anymore.”
“Fuck you, Taylor,” she spews. “That’s low.”
“But no less true,” Sugar defends.
“Like you have room to talk,” Hillary points at Sugar. “You’re a whore.”
“Ma
ybe,” she fires back. “But at least I’ve never been divorced.”
“Look,” I interject. “Did Nolan say it was serious? That he wants a relationship with her? Why tell you at all?”
Lowering her head, she whispers, “He wasn’t going to say shit. I asked him to come home, to give us another chance, and he said he liked how things were now. That we didn’t fight anymore; I didn’t weigh him down. When I told him I’d try harder, he said not to bother. We could keep it casual if I wanted, but he was seeing someone. He said he was enjoying not being tied down.”
“Did you want to work it out?” I question her. “And be honest.”
Crying into her hands, she shakes her head no. “But why does he get to be happy, and I don’t?”
“Who says he’s happy?” Sugar laughs. “It’s a phase, Hillary, and fuck him for offering to let you be his sidepiece. His marriage went to shit; he’s looking for validation, so of course he’s going to whip his dick out for the first woman who shows interest. Whoever she is, is new and exciting. You’re familiar and safe. He’s got the best of both worlds. Don’t let him have that.”
Blinking at me, Hillary falls into me and asks, “What would you do?”
Shit. This is not my specialty and would blow up in my face. Holding her, I say, “It was never his job to make you happy, Hill. You have to find your own happiness. You’ll never move on if you begrudge Nolan for doing so. When you’re ready to let him go, you will; and the next time you meet someone, you’ll do things differently because you know better now. You can’t hold onto him because you’re afraid of being alone.”
Stiffening in my arms, she accuses, “Like you aren’t stringing Evander along?” See? Nailed it.
“What the shit?” Sugar yells. “Apologize, Hillary.”
“Whatever,” she waves us off. “You can play house with him and even convince yourself he’s your one, but not too long ago you were still pity-fucking Taylor because he was familiar and safe. You like to love ‘em and leave ‘em, admit it. Jesus, you’re not even forty and you’ve juggernauted through half the fucking city. Evander is a good guy. That man loves every fucked up thing about you. Have you even told him you feel the same? Or are you doing what you always do—avoiding it by fucking his brains out? Because you know what? He’s the only guy you’ve ever been with that deserves better than that.”
Hurt, pissed, and extremely disappointed in Hillary lashing out so she could feel better, I make my way to the door. “You called me for help and I came. I dropped everything to be here for you. I’ve known you my entire life, Hillary. Which means I have a deep love for you. But if we didn’t have that history between us, and I met you at this time in my life, I wouldn’t make room for you in it. While you decide what to do with your life, think about how to repair our relationship because I’m done.”
“You were jealous when I got married,” she persists. “You wanted what I had.”
Closing my eyes, I twist the knob and whisper, “You have no idea what the fuck I want.”
And then I see myself out.
I’m on my second scotch with a cigar between my fingers when Scott cracks another joke. As much as I’ve wanted to see Taylor, taking him up on his offer was a great idea. For so long I’ve buried myself in work I have not bothered to cultivate friendships when I should have. Because Scott Sinclair is a good man and a great friend. When my pocket buzzes, I glance at the text from Taylor which explained she’s had a shit night, would not be good company, and is going home. I don’t dislike or like Hillary. If I was honest, I am on the fence about her. She has moments where she is funny and kind, and I could see why the group is close. But then there are other times she is whiny, mean, and seethed with jealousy. Taylor though, is always there for her girls, so whatever is happening with Hillary likely wore her out and she wants to be alone. Though, I prefer she be with me. Especially on the heels of the revelation I had after speaking with Sugar.
“What’s the deal with Hillary?” I ask Scott.
On a deep sigh, he says, “She wasn’t always this bad. She’s always been a pessimist, but she settled for Nolan and has been taking it out on everyone else ever since.”
“Seems selfish,” I express.
“Oh, it is,” he laughs. “India is mostly able to look beyond it, but it’s Taylor she runs to and then turns on.”
“Is she jealous of Taylor?”
“Without a doubt,” he nods. “Hillary isn’t wild and uninhibited like Taylor. She wants to be, has moments, of course, but it’s not in her makeup. It pisses her off Taylor says and does what she wants. It really pisses her off, despite liking you, that she’s found happiness with you.”
“I got that impression,” I sigh. “She’s been calling me for advice.”
“Taylor is the core of the group, Evander. They all go to her, confide in her, and in Hillary’s case, wish they could be like her. Hillary loves her, I don’t doubt it, but misery loves company. While she is in the midst of a divorce, Taylor has found happiness. A woman like Hillary can’t be happy for Taylor, at least not until she figures her own shit out.”
“Do you think she will?” I ask and giving me the what do you think look, I mutter, “Fuck, I don’t like the way she treats Taylor.”
“Taylor can handle Hillary,” he assures me. “But it’s probably best if you don’t offer her advice anymore because at some point, she’ll turn on you, too. She can’t help herself.”
Taking him at his word, I change the subject. “I want Taylor to marry me.”
Raising a brow, he asks, “And?”
“And while I know she cares, I told her I loved her and she hasn’t said it back.”
“The words are important to you?”
“Shouldn’t they be?”
“Depends on the person,” he shrugs. “Taylor is unique, as you know. Perhaps she’s more of a shower than a teller?”
“I believe she is trying to tell me she cares in her own way, but I want the words, Scott. I need them.”
“You can’t force this, Evander.”
God, this was Sugar part two…
“The party is days away. I’m going to formally announce our engagement, and I want it to be authentic. Not a lie.”
“You’re together, exclusive even, which Taylor has never done with anyone else. This started as a lie, Evander. Yet, it’s turned into something amazing. I don’t think you should push her—”
“Push her?” I laugh. “If I didn’t push her she’d run screaming in the other direction.”
“Bullshit,” he chuckles. “Maybe initially because, let’s face it, you gave her every reason to. But not now, Evander.”
“Dammit,” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I can’t lose her.”
“What has you convinced you will?”
Leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees, I confess, “Because I fear I’m not enough for her.”
“Or is it you fear she’s too much for you?”
“No,” I insist. “She’ll never be too much for me. But I…I’m just me, Scott.”
“From what I can see, Taylor likes you just as you are.”
“But I need her to love me,” I press. “Did you ever feel like this with India?”
“Evander,” he grins. “I still feel like this with India and I swear to you, it’s a good thing.”
“How so?”
“The day she and I stop working for it is the day our marriage ceases to evolve. I fall in love with my wife every single day for a thousand different reasons. We are not the same people now as were then. Each of us brought something to the relationship and over time, we began to blend. But you have to remember, India and I met, began dating, but didn’t live together for two years. If it wasn’t for Taylor, I don’t think India would have married me at all. Both of us came from broken homes and marriage freaked her out. I did everything text book and still she hesitated. My wife needed some convincing and Taylor did that for us. While India never had any issues saying the words, she
held herself back from me until she was ready to go all in. And I’ll admit, waiting wasn’t easy, but it was worth it. Each relationship has its own progression. You two blew past all that and went straight to a fake engagement. You have to give her time to accept the situation, Evander. From the sounds of it, she has but if she’s not ready to wear the white dress yet, you can’t push her.”
“She doesn’t want to wear white,” I mumble. “Or carry flowers either.”
“You’ve discussed marriage?”
“Hypothetically.”
“I don’t follow,” he frowns.
“I asked her hypothetically to explain her dream wedding.”
“Ah,” he says nodding. “You’re putting the horse before the cart here, my friend. You also can’t hold a hypothetical over her head either.”
“Women are supposed to want to get married, have kids, and decorate their home. Taylor…it’s like she wants everyone else to have it, but doesn’t want it for herself.”
“Or maybe she wants a different version for herself.” Of course, she did and I know that. Unfortunately, I’m buzzed and doubting myself at the moment. I also want Scott to agree with me for some fucking reason.
“You know that I think? I think wish-making is bullshit. I’m able to grant every wish she could ever make. All I want is one wish granted, but I can’t have it. I can’t buy her love and it’s pissing me off.”
“You never thought she’d say yes in the first place,” he shakes his head. “Maybe you should give her a little more credit.”
Or maybe I should ask her how much to write the check for.
But she said as you wish all the time. That fucking means something, right?
The beauty of what I do is scoring kickass tickets to kickass venues.
Case in point: Prophets of Rage
Sugar is my original date, but I ask her if she’d mind if I dump her for my fiancé.
She doesn’t mind.
So, I ask him if he could skate out of work early for a concert and without hesitation he says yes.
When I ask if he wants to know who it was, he says he doesn’t care. He just wants to see me.
Pulling into his lot a half hour early, I decide to surprise him (hopefully security is lax) and maybe have expensive desk sex before we hit the road. I also really wanted to scope out his office. Only when I get to the eighteenth floor, which happened to be his floor—as in ALL of it—I’m shocked when I’m not stopped.
