by L. M. Carr
“Remy, what’s going on? This isn’t you. Why are you doing this?”
I stare at his hand clasped around my arm and slowly look up to meet his gaze. “Get your goddamn hand off me.”
“I’m sorry,” he offers and removes his hand slowly as if setting a vicious animal free. “Baby, what is going on?”
“I need to get to work.”
I race around the room, gathering my work clothes. He matches me step for step as he dresses himself.
“What are you doing? Where are you going?” I ask while he dresses in a pair of jeans, T-shirt and black combat boots.
“I’m driving you to work and we’re going to talk. This is bullshit. You can’t keep things from me and not expect me to get upset. This isn’t how a relationship works.”
I nearly chuckle out loud at his comment. He’s acting as if he’s the expert on relationships. I’m not the one who cheated on someone.
“Oh for the love of God!” I dash back into the bathroom to brush my teeth and to do something with my hair. I feel his hot breath on my neck.
“I don’t know what’s gotten in to you, but we need to figure it out. I don’t want the drama, but I want you.” His big body looms behind me.
“Take it or leave it, buddy. This is me!” I spit into the sink.
I’m down the stairs in thirty seconds, walking away from his haphazardly parked truck on my way to the train until I’m swooped up and tossed over his shoulder as if I weigh nothing at all. I scream at the top of my lungs, unconcerned about the sleeping neighbors, and beat my fists on his back, demanding that he put me down, but he ignores me, choosing to walk in the opposite direction of where I was headed. I lose the will to fight and my body goes limp as it has done so many times before. But this time is different because I don’t want to fight with Shane; I know I’ll never win. Shane isn’t fighting to take something from me; he wants to give me something. Besides, the fight against a man has never claimed me to be the victor. I screw my eyes shut and force the memories away to the back of my mind where they hide.
The few steps to his truck feel like eternity. It’s not until he’s good and ready that I’m finally and slowly slid down, flush against his body, until my feet touch the pavement and I stand beside the passenger door. My hands reach out and grab his biceps, but I keep my eyes cast down. It feels as though I physically can’t draw my eyes up to look at him because I know what I’ll see. Disappointment. Frustration. Forgiveness. Love. And I can’t have any of those right now. I just need to go. I need time alone to think about what it is that I want or rather what I can have. You can’t bargain with the devil and expect him to play fair.
“Remy,” he breathes my name, tipping my chin upward with a gentle finger and cupping my face.
I want to tilt my head into his hand and enjoy the feel of his hand on my skin, but he needs answers that I can’t give him. I won’t give him. He won’t want me anymore. A rage begins to take hold at having lost the ability to make my own choices. Defiantly, I pull my chin away.
“Stop being so damn stubborn.” He cups my face again, forcing me to look at him. Blue eyes glare at me until he breaks away to unlock the door, opening it wide, allowing me the opportunity to get in of my own free will.
I choose not to move.
“Get in,” he commands with a quiet conviction which leaves no room for discussion or apparently any other option.
“God, you’re so bossy! I’m not a child.” I huff as I lift myself up and take a seat.
“Then quit acting like one,” he scoffs before slamming the door and walking around to the driver’s seat.
While I’d rather sit and stew, Shane wants to talk. I stare out the window as the morning sun begins its eastern ascent. Damn you! Damn you! I mentally curse her and her choices. I curse her for this life.
“Remy, what’s going on? Why won’t you talk to me?”
His words fall upon deaf ears.
“What happened last night?”
Still his questions go unanswered as the streets of Boston come alive with people getting an early start to their day.
“Is this really about me going out for a couple of beers the other night?” he prods.
I remain silent as I count the city blocks and the familiar sights that draw me closer to my place of refuge; Lenny won’t stand for this harassment.
“If anyone should be mad, it’s me.” He veers to the left quickly to avoid a delivery truck, calling the driver an idiot and forcing me to reach for the dashboard. “You…you lied to me. You told me Jenna was sick and she’s not even in the damn state.”
My eyes close as I breathe in deeply. I know he’s right, but lying is so much easier than facing the truth. My chin drops to my chest and while in quiet contemplation, I ask God to forgive me for yet another lie.
“I’m sorry I lied,” I whisper, finally opening my eyes to look at him. “I didn’t want to go to the game, but I didn’t know how to tell you. Then Jenna went to see Collin and I didn’t think you would find out. I thought I could use the excuse that she was sick and needed me if I wanted to leave.” I shrug my shoulders, “So I lied. Shoot me.”
“You didn’t have to lie to me. I would’ve respected your decision even if I disagreed with it.” He takes my hand in his and runs his thumb along the thin lifeline etched in my palm.
I breathe in sharply. “Besides I think football is stupid. Who wants to sit in the cold and watch a bunch of Neanderthals run around chasing after a ball?” Again, I shrug my shoulder like a belligerent child, but the pained expression across his face makes my heart hurt. “Why are you looking at me like that?” My voice is defensive and small.
“I don’t understand why you just didn’t tell me. It wouldn’t have been a big deal. Don’t you realize that I wouldn’t get mad at you about that? You can tell me anything. Anything at all. We’re not always going to agree on things, but that’s life. You like your hair short and bleached, I’d prefer it long and natural with those pretty red highlights. We disagree. I respect that. I would rather you just be honest and not lie to me.”
I reach for the hair that barely touches the nape of my neck, wishing I had a long curtain of hair to hide behind.
He pulls up along the sidewalk where Lenny’s Luncheonette stands where it has for over thirty years. “Remy, there’s nothing you can say that will change how I feel about you. I love you. I don’t say that lightly and I don’t say it often.”
“Okay,” I exhale slowly, nodding my head in agreement. Tell him. Be honest. Say those three words. My lips part as I prepare to speak, but my confidence wanes at the thought of losing him, of telling him what no boyfriend wants to hear, so instead I tell him that I have to go to work and that I’ll talk to him later.
He squeezes my hand and runs his thumb across my knuckles. “Kiss me.”
With pleading pools of blue, he waits for my affection. I lean over and place a quick peck on his soft lips.
“Not good enough.” He shakes his head as though chastising a child. “Again. This time do it like you mean it.”
Slowly, I lean in and feel my will shatter the moment his lips touch mine. He grabs the back of my head and angles it, allowing the access he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. My body becomes putty as he deepens the kiss until he pulls back and rests his forehead against mine. “I love you.”
“No matter what?” I ask.
He pecks my nose with a soft kiss. “No matter what.”
I wave goodbye to Shane as I knock on the front door of the diner and wait for Jenna to unlock it.
“Girl,” she sings as she opens the door. “What’s going on? Shane was all upset last night looking for you. Did you—” Her eyebrows rise to her hairline.
“Yes. I had to,” I interrupt, walking past her into the back to get my apron and start a pot of coffee. “But I’m done. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep lying to him.”
“What’s your mom going to say about that?”
“Do I look li
ke I care?” I toss my hands up into the air. “She could die today and I wouldn’t give a shit.”
“Hey, hey, hey. Relax, girl. What’s with you? You okay?” Lenny breezes into the dining area, his face laced with concern.
“It’s nothing, Len.” I spit. “Everything’s just fine.”
With a quick jutting of his chin, he asks Jenna to leave us alone for a minute. What is it with the men in my life wanting to talk?
“Now you listen to me, young lady. I don’t know what’s going on, but this ain’t like you. You’re a good girl. A smart girl.”
I nearly laugh out loud and scoff at his words. I’ve been called a “good girl” or a “sweet girl” so many times in my life, but they’ve always been said by animals disguised as men. They didn’t think I was such a “good girl” when I cried and struggled beneath them until I vomited on myself, causing them to slap me and toss me aside.
“Lenny, I’ve just got a lot going on. I’m a little stressed. I’ll be fine.”
“Do you need to cut down your hours here sooner than January?”
“No, I might actually need to increase my hours until then. I’m going to need the money.”
“Need me to float you a loan? I got some money stashed under the mattress.”
I smile sadly because the idea that Lenny would loan me money when he barely gets by on his own makes me feel guilty. The only reason he continues to pay the raised lease is because he loves the customers; some of them are like family to him.
“Hey Lenny, Paco needs you in the back.” Jenna announces, walking through the double swinging door. I think it’s just her way of finding out what’s going on.
“So…?”
“So what?” I feign nonchalance as I set white placemats down on the tables followed by a folded napkin, fork, spoon and knife.
“What happened with Shane? Why was he so upset?”
“It’s not a big deal, Jenna. It was just a…misunderstanding.” I can’t hide the annoyance in my voice. I’m annoyed because she was gone for a few days and I’m exhausted. I’m annoyed because she has a father who will gladly foot the bill for her whims. And I’m annoyed because she’s still talking and it makes me feel guiltier by the second. She knows the truth. Only she and Simon do. “Can we please not talk about it anymore?”
“What.Ever.” She rolls her eyes and walks away.
She might as well take a trowel and pile on another layer of guilt. I make my way over and help finish setting up the tables.
“And for the record, if you’re going to use my name in a lie, at least give me the heads up.”
I nod my apology, knowing she’s right. “I’m sorry.”
We work together to get the diner ready for the morning rush.
“How’s Collin?”
The mere mention of his name puts a huge smile on her face, her demeanor changing completely. “Oh, Remy! He’s wonderful. He’s incredibly wonderful! I love him so much.”
“You love him already?” I tease sarcastically. “You’ve only known him what…a couple of months?” Jenna falls in and out of love more than the average person.
“Don’t judge me! You fell for Shane pretty fast and hard if I recall.” She sticks her tongue out at me like a five-year-old.
“But I’ve known Shane since the summer.”
“Remy, ogling the man from a distance doesn’t exactly qualify as “knowing” him. You barely even spoke to him for weeks when he started coming in.”
It’s my turn to stick out my tongue. “Whatever. It feels like I’ve known him forever.” My heart beats faster at the thought of keeping him forever but almost flat lines at the thought of losing him. The stark reality that it could be over in an instant slaps me in the face.
“Well,” Jenna says as a huge grin forms on her face. “Collin asked if I would consider moving down there.”
“What?” I gasp. “Are you serious?”
“Remy, I love him.”
“Yeah, but does he love you or what you do to him?”
Daggers shoot from Jenna’s eyes. “Fuck you! What— all of sudden you’re Miss High and Mighty Righteous? Do I need to remind you what you —”
“Shut up! I don’t need a reminder. I live this fucking nightmare everyday!”
Jenna and I have been friends for a long time and we’ve had our share of fights, but neither one of us have ever been so cruel. So hurtful with our words. A deep gash from a rusty, dull razor would’ve been less painful that what she was going to say.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles as she walks toward me.
“Me, too.” I reach out, wrap my arms around her thin body and tell her that I love her and I don’t want to see her get hurt.
Shortly after seven thirty, I receive a text from Shane letting me know that he’s going home to see his sister and her daughters, but that he’ll be back tonight by six o’clock. I type back a quick response of “Okay” to which he responds and asks if we’re okay. While my fingers type an affirmative response, the anxiety riddling through my body indicates otherwise. I pray that he doesn’t go see Mia again.
Since I have nowhere in particular to be, I text Simon and ask if he’d like to meet for a late lunch. We haven’t hung out in quite some time and although he drives me crazy sometimes, I miss him. Our friendship used to be easy until one small, but significant, thing drove a wedge between us.
I find him sitting at the bar chatting away with the bartender whose shirt is way too tight and needs to be buttoned up a little more; she might as well as serve her boobs up on a silver platter.When I pull the stool out and slide in next to him, immediately placing my head on his shoulder, the disappointed bartender with curly hair glances in my direction and offers a tight smile as though I just staked claim to what she thought was hers.
“What can I get you to drink?” she asks as she refills the condiment bin of sliced fruit.
“Cranberry and seltzer.”
“You want Tito’s in that?” She reaches for the bottle of vodka.
“No, thanks.”
A dubious look, mixed with confusion, extends across her face before she looks at Simon. She’s probably thinking he could do much better than me.
The tumbler is filled and placed onto a cocktail napkin. “Let me know if I can get you anything else.” Her attention is focused on the man beside me.
“I’m good for now, but I’ll let you know.” I catch a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror and see the familiar stare of a predator stalking his prey. Poor girl, she’s a goner.
Simon and I fall into comfortable but superficial conversation about stupid things after placing our order for appetizers. He teases me about my hair and tells me that I need a dye job. I tell him to kiss my ass and to eat a cheeseburger because he’s sloppy and gaunt these days. Instead of retorting, he asks about my plans for the holidays.
“Not sure yet. I need to talk to Shane.” I answer as I fold the cocktail napkin into a tiny triangle and flick it across the table.
With a deep clearing of his throat Simon makes a pact with me. If for some reason we find ourselves alone for Christmas we’re going order Chinese and watch A Christmas Story marathon.
We both smile, but the current of tension, the unspoken subject, thickens the atmosphere of the vacant, dingy bar.
“How are things with you and David?” I take the plunge and ask the question that’s been sitting there like an elephant in the room.
He responds with an icy glare.
“C’mon. What’s going on? You guys used to be really close.”
“Yeah, maybe when I was ten.”
My eyes cast away at the thought of Simon as a young boy.
“Now he’s a judgmental asshole who thinks he’s God’s gift to mankind.”
I snap my teeth and roll my eyes. “He is not. We both know that’s not true. He just wants what’s best for you. ”
“The only problem with that is He thinks he knows what’s best for me. He thinks he knows what’s right for everyo
ne. He expects people to fall in line and listen to him because he’s “lived” and has experience.” He scoffs, “Well, right about now, he’s doing anything but living. Not since that day we put her in the ground anyway.”
“Can you blame him?” I swallow the lump in my throat.
“Hi, sweetheart. Aren’t you precious? Here let me take your bag.” The woman with a radiant smile reached out. I stilled and then quickly hid behind Maxine, the social worker who had known me since I was practically still in diapers.
Maxine turned and lowered herself to meet me at eye level, promising me that I was safe here. She told me that I would have a nice room with a dollhouse. She said I would have a brother, too, but I later found out that he spent the few days prior making a list of the ways he could torment me. He didn’t want a sister or at least, he didn’t want me for a sister.
“Here you go,” the bartender dropped off our food before sauntering away with a sway of her hips.
I sit up and rub my hands together before licking my chops playfully. “Mmmm.”
“I can’t believe you’re going to eat this.” Simon scoops up a loaded potato skin, dunks it in sour cream and plops it into his mouth. He moans in pleasure.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve watched my weight. I’ve sat there, eyeballing others who’ve eaten calorie-filled foods and didn’t think twice about it. That luxury has never been mine.
“I’m sure I’ll work off the calories when Shane gets home.” I reply with a waggle of my eyebrows and a wide grin. I moan around the mouthful of food.
“You’re serious about his guy?”
“I love him…and before you ask, he loves me too.”
He heckles while his shoulders rise and fall in a quick shrug. “It’s your funeral.”
Shane arrives back to the apartment shortly after six with several bags of groceries weighing down his arms. I jump up and drag my weary body from the couch to help him put things away.
He drops the bags to hug me. I am crushed against his body clad in jeans and button down shirt rolled up at the sleeves. “I missed you.”
