“No worries, pretty girl. I’ll take what I can get.”
“He hasn’t been mine for way longer than he ever was.” The memory brings about nostalgia that I often try to avoid. But every now and then talking about it makes it real, and I need that. So much time has passed I often wonder if I’ve made up how much I love him, or how much I hurt him.
“That’s bullshit,” Emerson argues. Her passion is admirable. It’s how I know Jagger didn’t ever stand a chance against her. “All that is, is labels. He’s been there and loved you through it all.”
“You think, I think he hasn’t done enough?” Uncertain I’m understanding her, I clarify. “You think that’s why we’re not together?”
“I’m just trying to piece it all together.”
“It’s not that complicated.” I look out onto the field, turning my body away from hers. “I’m sorry if that disappoints anyone, but it all comes down to one simple truth.” My voice cracks at the one thought that plagues me. “He’s perfect. I’m not.”
Thinking the conversation is over, I’m surprised when she grabs my hand. “I’m not going to make a deal about the last thing you said, because I know it hurts. But it’s not true.” She gives my hand a firm squeeze. “Everybody is perfect in their own way.”
Clearing her throat, she places her hand back in her lap, and I rub my nose to hold back the tears. “So, what happened with Jay?”
A soft laugh leaves my mouth. “Much to my surprise he actually grew on me. We spent a few months hanging out, and I guess you could say I kinda liked him.”
Drix and Jagger’s loud screams have me doing a quick scan of the field, making sure Dakota isn’t hurt. Realising they’re just mad about a hand ball, I look back at Em. “It wasn’t like what I felt with Hendrix. Nothing was ever like that, but it was fun. Carefree.”
“Past all the bullshit, I opened up to him, and he got me through a really hard time. I knew he could be a prick of a kid, but behind closed doors he let himself be young and funny. The facade faded.”
“Sounds like he made you happy.”
“He filled a gap for a while,” I say, wistfully, remembering the brief amount of happiness I felt with him before it went to shit. “But I stupidly gave him my virginity and he ghosted me.”
“What?” Her face blanches “I didn’t see that coming.”
“The ghosting hurt, but what did I expect? He was notorious for treating people like shit, and true colours always come out in the end.” I let out an exhausted sigh, the trip down memory lane more than I bargained for this morning. “I found out later Jagger had told him to stay the fuck away from me. So, I guess he figured he’d use me to show Jagger who was boss.”
“Can I ask why you had sex with Jay?”
“That’s the million dollar question, right?” It was the question I never had a concrete answer for. I remember the headspace I was in at the time, and the reasoning I used to justify it, but now it’s just another reason to be mad with myself. It’s been my motive for raising a daughter who will never fall victim to the traps of insecurity, and second guesses. “I’d placed such a big deal on sex with Hendrix. I don’t even know why, all my friends were doing it. Hell, even my mum thought I was.
“I knew sex changed things, and I was scared of change. We’d already gone from friends to lovers, and I would have a moment of panic every day, worried I’d fuck it up. I managed to do it anyway.” The tears from earlier find their way back, and I’m grateful my sunglasses are hiding my pain. “So, I thought what the heck, you’re never going to be able to have that special moment with Drix, anyway. I dove right in, knowing nothing would ever compare.” I lower my chin to my chest and let the tears flow. I was right in thinking nothing would compare, and I’ve been paying the price in different types of currencies for as long as I can remember. I take a deep breath, and my breath comes back out in hiccups. “It was childish and stupid, and it didn’t take long for me to see that, but by then the wheels were already set in motion.” The noise of the game fades, as I look from Jagger and Drix to Dakota. My life’s awkward triangle. “I didn’t have time to worry about all the mistakes I’d made. I had to make sure none of them touched my newborn baby.”
11
Hendrix
“Hey, Drix, you coming for drinks?” Evan, one of my co-workers asks me.
“I don’t know, man.” I climb into my car to get out of the sun. Leaving the door ajar, I turn the air conditioning on, hoping the release of the heat will be quickly replaced by the stream of new, cool air.
“Come on,” Stacey interjects, walking up beside Evan. “When was the last time you came out for drinks? Actually, when was the last time you did anything for fun?”
I think back to last Friday night with Taylah. “Are you saying I’m boring?”
“Yes. That’s what she’s saying, and she’s right.” He throws his arm around her casually. “Every week feels worse than the one before. Come out.”
“Why does this feel like an intervention?”
Evan shakes his head in protest, while Stacey nods taking it as an invitation to inform me that she’s apparently not pleased with how my life is going. “Growing old alone doesn’t look good on you.”
“What does going out have to do with growing old or being alone?”
“You’re always too busy being at everyone’s beck and call you never take time for yourself.”
Her words sting. The truth usually does. So, I defer and get back to the original conversation starter. “Where are we going?”
“Yay.” Stacey claps excitedly. “What if we all go home and change? Dinner first? Make a night of it?”
“Fine with me. Evan?” I tip my head in his direction. It’s more of a plea than a question.
“Yeah of course, but, I’m going to bring Kat.”
“I’ll bring Chris,” Stacey adds.
Great. Now I’m fifth wheeling it. “I’m going to get going,” I announce. “Text me with the time and place, and I’ll see you both later.”
Now that it’s all set in stone, and Evan and Stacey got their way, we don’t bother with goodbyes. The thirty-degree day is enough to hurry us along.
Driving home, Stacey’s words play on repeat. They merge with the last two weeks of flirting between Taylah and I. After dinner, she tried avoiding me for a few days. I wish I knew why, but my gut says it was the Sasha reminder. She responds to my texts, but she flat out refuses to see me.
Eventually, the whole putting other people first will end up in me being old and alone. I remember how I felt in Taylah’s presence. Light and casual, and I remind myself I have to start chasing what I want. I can’t be living in a self-imposed exile from life because I’m standing on the outskirts, too busy waiting for something extraordinary to happen instead of finding it, grabbing it and making it mine.
At the next red light, I grab my phone out of the cup holder beside me and find her number. Without second guessing myself, I tap the screen and call her.
The rings keep going and the adrenaline starts to leave through every available exit. Trying not to focus on what pursuing this means, or the fact that she’s hell-bent on ignoring how good dinner together was.
“Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.” I check the dashboard clock, maybe she’s still working? The naive, untainted part of my brain believes if she answers then I’m on the right track. That there’s hope I won’t be stuck on this crazy merry-go-round of my past dictating my future, maybe there’s still time to change my old and lonely status.
“One second,” she answers, but the unexpected greeting throws me off. She comes back, her breathing a little heavier. “Hello?”
“Uh, hey. Taylah, it’s m—”
“I know who it is, Sexy, I’ve been texting this number for two weeks.” She clicks her tongue. “I’ve just been too busy to answer your calls.”
“Sassy, as always, I see.”
“Don’t act like you would want it any other way.” I hear her smile, my memory sketch
ing up the way her lips twist to the side whenever she’s being mouthy. It makes me want to see her even more.
“Look, I called to see if you wanted to come out with me tonight? I really want to see you again.”
“Like a date?”
“Well.” I drag out the word, longer than intended, trying to buy time to answer her question. “It's a work thing. A few other people will be there.”
“God, Sexy, you sure know how to make a girl feel special.”
Silently, I hit the heel of my palm on my forehead, repeatedly, while the awkwardness progressively gets worse. “Come on, Crazy.” I use my nickname for her, hoping to salvage the conversation and the outcome of tonight. “I’m trying, aren’t I? Which is more than I can say for you. I keep trying to call and you keep trying to avoid me.”
“I just had some things I needed to think through,” she admits. “Trying to play it cool. Not wanting to seem too eager.”
“Taylah,” I say her name with a chuckle. “You propositioned me for sex the first time we met.”
“Actually, it was the second, and I’m kidding.” Her voice becomes softer, the earnest loud and clear. “I was just waiting for the timing to be right.”
I don’t press her for answers. With Taylah, I know they’ll always come, I just have to respect her timing. “So, you think I can pick you up in an hour?”
“How about I meet you there, and if you’re lucky you can drive me home.”
“Crazy,” I say, irritated. “Let me pick you up.”
“You said this wasn’t a date,” she reminds me.
“No, that’s not what I said.”
“Well you didn’t confirm that it was,” she bites back. “So, until I figure out your covert reason for inviting me, this is called compromise. What’s it going to be, Sexy?”
I pull up into my driveway, as the possibility of seeing her turns from probable to certain. The last five minutes mightn’t have gone as planned, but the outcome sets me at ease, relief coursing through me. “I’ll text you the details.”
We’re about to be seated for dinner and Taylah still hasn’t shown. Unless I’ve read her wrong, she doesn’t seem like the type to stand me up, but history makes me cautious either way.
“A table for six, huh?” Stacey has been frothing at the mouth since I told her I invited someone. “Why didn’t you pick her up?”
“Can we just hold off on the twenty questions, and see if she shows up.”
“Oh, she showed up,” Evan interrupts, staring at the doorway.
My eyes follow his line of sight, and there she is walking toward our table after being given instructions by the waiter. She waltzes in like she owns the place, every single eye trained on her every single move.
The best thing is, she’s only looking at me. Her mossy green gaze meets mine, swimming with sex and secrets no man could ignore.
Her black dress is the perfect contradiction. High neck, short sleeves, long enough you can only see her painted toes in her forest green, suede heels. It’s modest in all the right places until a perfectly toned leg peeks out of a daringly wide, side split, with every calculated step.
She reaches the table, and I clear my throat to greet her. “You made it.”
“Of course.”
We lean into one another, my hand tentatively touching her waist, hers landing on my chest. Placing a soft kiss on her cheek, I speak directly into her ear. “You look beautiful.”
She pulls back and looks up at me from under her thick lashes, and smiles. “Thank you.”
I introduce her to everyone around the table, their wide eyes impossible to ignore.
The week in between downplayed how hypnotic she is. As we take our seats, her vanilla scent wafts around me, and I know it’s more than physical. She fills up the room with her presence and being close enough to touch her is like delicious torture. Her dress splits open, the material loosely falls around her thigh, ruching at the top of her leg holds it all together. Her skin shines like it’s peppered with small specks of glitter, and all I want to do is run my hands all over her, while she wraps herself all around me.
One at a time, everything that attracts me to her starts to fill me up; heavy like weights, taunting me, scaring me with her ability to bring me to my knees. I’m not ready for her. Not now, and probably not in this lifetime, but what shakes me is how badly I want to be.
I catch Stacey eyeing me from across the table, while Taylah effortlessly inserts herself into their conversations. Curiosity has her wanting to burst out of her skin, and I can’t help but shake my head at her antics. I scoot my chair closer to Taylah’s and settle my arm across the back of hers. She looks back at me, biting her bottom lip, her face both shocked and pleased with how close we’re sitting. Her hand finds my thigh, so I cover it with mine and slide my fingers through hers.
“Who’s ready to check out the menu?” Evan calls out.
Picking up the leather-bound pages, she places it on the table in front of us both, and just like that, we’re all comfort and contentment. Like we’ve done this a million times before.
Agreeing on a set menu, the food starts piling on the table within the next twenty minutes. The conversation flows easily and the wine even more so.
“So, what’s it like working for Legal Aid?” Evan’s girlfriend, Kat, asks Taylah. “As opposed to having your own practice, I mean.”
“My dad used to do what you guys do. His focus was youth homelessness, and he spent the majority of my childhood working at the City Youth Centre in Surry Hills. You guys know the one, right?” We all nod. Anyone in the field knows with the increasing number of young people sleeping on the street every night, it’s the biggest and most accommodating youth refuge in Sydney. “Of course it hasn’t always been what it is now, but he was there when it opened and worked there ‘til the day he died.”
“Oh, shit,” Kat says, covering her mouth in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have asked.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s fine.” She waves her hand in front of her nonchalantly, while I squeeze the hand on my thigh, offering some kind of condolences. “Growing up, he used to joke I should be a solicitor, because I could talk my way out of anything. So, after he died and the time came, I combined his love for helping people with my smart mouth, and here I am.”
My stomach clenches in disappointment, it’s foolish to think in a short time I’m going to know anything about her, especially something as personal as her dad dying. But what hits harder is the unfounded jealousy that anyone would know anything about her before me.
“That’s really nice,” Stacey adds, the awkwardness obviously lingering. Picking the perfect time to salvage the rest of the exchange, the waiter begins placing the second round of dishes on the table, allowing the moment to shift to something new.
While the chatter around us picks up, I take the opportunity to lean into her. “Are you okay?” I ask, checking in.
She turns, our faces close, our eyes only for one another. “Yeah. It’s not the first time I’ve had to tell that story.”
“I’m sorry about your dad, I didn’t know.”
“And what would you have done if you did know? Veto all the questions before I answered them.”
“Maybe.”
“Sweet." She runs her thumb down the side of my face, while her eyes shine with gratitude. “But it’s completely unnecessary. I’m big and old enough to take care of myself.”
What if I want to take care of you? The errant thought has me hastily pulling back, breaking the moment. Her hand awkwardly falling away. “Does the food taste okay?”
The change in subject does the trick. Personal space regained and an unimpressed look from all three women sitting at our table. I’m clearly winning at life. The four pairs of eyes heighten every reaction, and I begin to regret bringing her. I don’t know how to just be with everyone’s eyes on us. It doesn’t feel like last week. It feels like a show I have to perform for or a test I have to pass, and she deserves
better than that.
She slides her hand off my thigh, and I let her. I fucked up. She has no idea what goes through my head all the time, and with the constant whiplash I manage to give myself, neither do I. I’m all over the place. It’s all on me, and she needs to know that, but unfortunately, this isn’t the time or place for that.
The rest of the meal is sat in an awkward silence between us, and an excessive, obvious attempt of inclusion from everyone else. The pretence is hard to keep up with, and I find myself counting down the minutes till we can get out of here, and maybe I can make it right.
“I’m just going to the bathroom,” she announces. And it takes no less than ten seconds for all eyes to turn on me.
“What the fuck was that?” Stacey asks.
“Just let it go, Stace.”
“One minute you two are close enough to kiss and then the next you act like she’s got some fucking contagious disease. She’s really nice—”
“And fucking hot,” Evan adds.
“Really? With your girlfriend right there,” I say, pointing at Kat.
“What, she doesn’t care. Do you, honey?” She smiles and shakes her head, just as he kisses her cheek. “It’s the truth. She’s the complete package and you’re going to fuck it up.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, you guys.”
Having a little too much to drink, they’re the king and queens of opinions. Thinking they know best for me and Taylah.
“Listen.” Stacey gets up out of her seat with a slight sway, the alcohol clearly making an appearance. “Kat and I are going to go to the bathroom, you guys go next door to the bar, and we’ll meet you there.”
“I don’t know, guys. I should go after her, or just take her home.”
“Take her home,” she scoffs. Like an older sister, Stacey narrows her eyes at me and lays down the law. “Let me work my magic, because right now, there’s no way she’s getting in a car with you.”
12
Revive (A Redemption Novel) Page 10
