by Hazel Kelly
My guts started to ache.
“And I miss waking up to you.”
I shook my head. I shouldn’t be listening to this.
“I miss your smile, your smell-”
“You should’ve thought of that before you stuck your dick where it didn’t belong.”
“I can make it up to you. If you’ll just-”
And then I hung up.
Except this time, it felt good.
Chapter 10: Ben
So she didn’t want to talk.
At least I knew what her status was now. Not that I was terribly pleased about it.
I flicked the TV channel and put my feet up on the coffee table. A moment later, something foul entered my nostrils.
“What the hell is that smell?”
Christophe stepped out of his open bedroom door wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. “Do you like it?”
“No. It’s awful.”
He scrunched his face. “Really? I thought it smelled pretty studly when the girl at Macy’s sprayed it on me.”
I shook my head. “You’ve been had.”
“Whatever,” he said. “Just cause I like to smell like more than soap-”
“Soap is what girls want you to smell like, man. I’m telling you.”
“That can’t be true,” he said, disappearing into his room. “There’s a guy at my office who wears this stuff and all the girls think he smells divine.”
“What’s it called?”
“Stallion.”
I laughed.
“What?”
“I can think of a better name for it,” I said, changing channels too fast to even register what I was passing by.
“Oh yeah.” He came out in his jeans. “What’s that?”
“Predator,” I said, waving my hand through the air like I could see the name in lights.
“I’ll take it,” he said. “You coming out?”
I shook my head. “Think I’ll pass.”
“Why? So you can stay home and sulk over this girl that doesn’t want to talk to you?”
“I’m not sulking. I’m giving her space.”
“Sounds like something you could do while getting blacked out with me.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Especially when I feel positively murderous.”
He rolled his eyes.
“I broke the punching bag at the gym today.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
I nodded. “It came right off its hinge.”
“Maybe you should stay in.”
I reached forward for the takeout menu. “Please tell me you’re not meeting up with Ella’s cousin.”
He turned around and went in his room.
“Seriously?” I asked. “That girl is a leech.”
“No she’s not,” he said, his voice spilling out of his room. “Besides, not everyone takes matters of the heart as seriously as you. We’re just going to have some fun.”
“Have it at her place,” I said, spreading the pamphlet open. “So I can get some sleep.”
He came out with his shirt unbuttoned and went to the fridge. “Beer?”
“Sure.”
He grabbed two bottles, popped the caps off so they rolled along the counter and walked in front of the TV so he could sit on the other end of the couch.
“Thanks,” I said, taking the bottle he extended in my direction.
“You’re welcome.” He took a sip and put his arm up on the back of the couch. “What’s the score?”
“Knicks are down by seven.”
He nodded. “And Carrie’s still not speaking to you?”
“Not really.” I flicked back to the game and dropped the remote on the couch beside me.
“She’ll come around.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Seems like it would be a lot easier for her to just not bother with me.”
“But you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know.”
“Can you imagine a world where we were all punished for our parent’s mistakes?”
I shook my head.
“That would be terrible for everyone.”
“Especially you,” I said. “Think of how many good guys your dad’s fucked over in the courts.”
“Let’s keep it hypothetical, yeah?”
I shrugged.
“Anyway, all I’m saying is that if she’s as good a person as you claim she is, she won’t hold this against you.”
“That doesn’t fix the problem that this motherfucker is still-”
“Fucking your mother?”
I shook my head. “I can’t even say it, much less think about it.”
“What if he’s really a bad guy?”
“He is a bad guy.”
“But what if you could prove it?”
I looked at him with wide eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about? He cheated on his fiancé. I think that’s enough proof.”
“Yeah, and unfortunately, that worked out in your favor.”
“I suppose it did for a while.”
“But instead of you and Carrie both being rid of this idiot, he’s still in the picture.”
“What are you? Some kind of horrible clown that tells me about my personal nightmares in real time?”
“No. Actually-” He leaned forward. “I’m trying to make a point.”
“Well, anytime you want to let me know what it is-”
“I think you should have this guy followed.”
I looked at him. “What?”
“If your mom won’t dump his ass cause he’s a dickless homewrecker, dig up something else that will disgust her.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yeah I’m serious.”
I sighed. “You haven’t even been a lawyer for two years and you’ve already completely lost your scruples.”
“Hey.” He raised his hands. “I’m just trying to help.”
“I don’t want to know any more about this guy than I already do.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Just think of how much you’ll know if he and your mom get really serious.”
“She already thinks they’re in love.”
“So you have to act fast.”
I furrowed my brow. “Are you suggesting I hire a private investigator?”
“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”
I shook my head.
“Why not? Either he digs up some shit that will save your mom from getting fucked over or he doesn’t and at least you tried.”
“Is that even ethical?”
“Are you kidding?” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “You’re practically obligated to do it as far as I’m concerned.”
“Go on.”
“Worst case scenario, the PI doesn’t find anything and you discover that the guy’s only flaw is that he didn’t really love Carrie.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Then you have some peace of mind as far as him dating your mom.”
“I don’t know about that.” I said. “What’s the best case scenario?”
“You find out he’s got a load of kiddie porn on his laptop and you can send him away without getting any blood on your hands.”
“I admit I like your optimism.”
“So what do you say?”
“I say I’ll think about it.”
“Really?” Christophe scrunched his face. “Cause I already told my buddy he should expect your call.”
I craned my neck forward. “What?”
“I assumed you’d think it was my best idea ever so I ran it by the best guy in the business.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Seriously. My dad’s used him dozens of times. He’s really discreet. Very professional.”
“Jesus, Christophe. How long has he been waiting for my call?”
“I only mentioned it to him yesterday cause I saw him at the office. That’s how I got the idea.”
I sighed. “W
hat exactly does he do?”
“He follows schmuck-face around for a while and then tells you what he found out.”
“And what if he’s just a regular idiot, my mom stays with him long term, and I have to live with the fact that I had him followed?”
He shrugged. “At least you’ll know your mom is safe with him.”
“It’s not your worst idea. But it’s definitely not your best.”
“Fair enough,” he said, pushing off the couch. “Just wanted you to know it’s an option should you decide to grow a set and make sure your mom isn’t dating a serial killer.”
“Fuck, man.”
He disappeared into his room.
“How much is it?” I called.
He popped his head out of his room. “Around a hundred bucks an hour.”
I furrowed my brow. “Is it really that cheap?”
He nodded. “I know, right? At that price maybe you should have him follow Carrie, too, just to make sure she’s not up to-”
“I’m not doing that. That’s ridiculous.”
“But it’s almost too good a deal right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “For a hundred bucks an hour, what have I got to lose?”
Chapter 11: Carrie
When I got back to the office, I was still reeling from Simon’s phone call.
Not because I wished I’d handled things differently or because I wanted him back, but because it was so fucked up that I could work so hard to push him from my life only to have him crop up again.
In person, on the phone, and in my thoughts.
And we’d only been together a few years.
I mean, I couldn’t imagine how difficult it must’ve been for couples with decades of shared memories to go their separate ways. It must be damn near impossible.
Perhaps that was love’s greatest curse and blessing all at once- that it was so pervasive, that it could so thoroughly seep into everything around you so you couldn’t hear a song, see an ad, or grocery shop without thinking of how the other person would experience the same stimulus.
Occasionally, I still read or heard something and thought about telling him, only to realize a moment later that he was dead to me.
But I guess he wasn’t experiencing the same rebirth that I was.
Was he really still hung up on me?
It seemed shallow to be pleased at the thought, but I couldn’t help it. Heck, part of me hoped he was having food poisoning like symptoms as a result of my absence in his life.
But did he really want to get back together?
I guess it was possible. It’s not like I’d done anything wrong.
Then again, he didn’t exactly seem like a man who’d been pining when I saw him at the wedding… with her, a woman who was easily twice my age and half my weight to add insult to injury. Whatever.
He just wanted to have his cake and eat my home cooked dinners, too.
Nora opened the door.
I looked up.
“I’ve been knocking for, like, a whole minute.”
“Oh sorry. I’m up to my eyeballs in furniture options for the ladies room at the club. Come in. What’s up?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I just thought I’d check on you.”
I furrowed my brows. “Why?”
“To see how you were doing.”
“Why wouldn’t I be doing fine?”
She held her hands together in front of her. “I don’t know.”
I craned my neck forward. “Spit it out.”
She put her hands on the back of the chair in front of my desk. “There’s nothing to spit out. I really don’t know what’s going on. It’s just that Brook called and said I should check on you-”
“Brook should mind her own business.”
“And so should I, but there are only two of us here, and I’d be a pretty lousy assistant if I didn’t try to assist you.”
I rubbed one of my temples. “There’s nothing you can assist me with.”
“Why is she so worried about you?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe she’s having a slow day at the office.”
“If that’s the case, I wish she’d said so cause the guy I went out with last weekend could do with some adult braces.”
“Oh god. Adult braces are the worst.”
“They’re not worse than having teeth that look like stalagmites.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I heard a rumor once that people with bad teeth are better kissers.”
“Sounds like a rumor started by someone with bad teeth.”
“So the date didn’t go that far, huh?”
She shook her head. “I knew it was going to be a disaster as soon as he gave me the whole ‘you get a starter if you want one but I’m not going to get one’ speech.”
“Cheapskate?”
She nodded. “We went Dutch.”
“Sounds romantic.”
“Actually the romantic part was when he told me about the summer he volunteered on a farm and had to stick his arm in a cow’s butt to turn a baby calf over.”
“Where do you find these guys?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“At least he’s not an animal hater.”
She laughed. “True.”
“Well, I’m fine, Nora. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Has the realization that you don’t need adult braces cheered you up?”
I nodded. “It has, yeah.”
“Good. And there’s nothing else you want to tell me? Cause the phone isn’t ringing or anything and-”
I sighed. “Sit down.”
She took a seat and crossed her legs.
“What would you do if you ran into the other woman?”
She furrowed her brow. “Is this a hypothetical question?”
“The moment’s passed so yes-”
“Oh you didn’t, Carrie.”
“I’m afraid so.”
She shook her head. “I know what I’d want to do.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’d want to give her a straight up Kill Bill style ass whooping.”
“Then what?”
“Then I’d bury her alive in adult braces that were wound too tight in a casket full of used butt plugs.”
I nodded. “Not bad for a first idea.”
“Or…”
I could see her mind reeling behind her eyes.
“Or I’d shoot a cap in both her knees-”
My mouth turned up at the corners.
“And then I’d scalp her.”
I raised my eyebrows. “That would do it.”
“That would be in a perfect world.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Which is not the one we’re living in.”
“Right,” she said. “So unfortunately, there’s really only one thing you can do.”
“What’s that?”
“Let karma take care of it and try not to waste another thought on her sorry man stealing lack of an ass.”
“How’d you know she has no ass?”
She shrugged. “Just a hunch. Can’t have an ass if you’ve got no backbone.”
“Well said.”
“Anyway, don’t worry about it. She’ll get what’s coming to her.”
“Can I ask you another question?”
“As long as it isn’t about cooking beef wellington.”
“What?”
“I learned this weekend- the hard way- that I’m not the person to ask about that.”
I furrowed my brow. “It’s not about that.”
“Okay, then shoot.”
“What if by some cruel twist of fate, you couldn’t avoid her?”
“The other woman?”
I nodded. “How would you cope if you had to interact socially with her?”
“That would be hard.”
“If you’d rather answer a question about beef wellington-”
“No, that’s alright,” she said. “To be honest, my gut instinct would be to m
ake her really uncomfortable, but it might actually be more enjoyable to kill her with kindness.”
I cocked my head.
“My grandma swears by it. Plus, not only is that the best way to make her feel shitty and uncomfortable, but it will help mitigate the nasty feelings circulating inside you.”
“You might have a point there.”
She nodded. “I’ve tried it. It works really well. Honestly, the meanest thing you can do to someone is be nice to them when they don’t deserve it.”
I squinted.
“It’s true.”
“And it’s easier than the Quentin Tarantino approach.”
She nodded. “Infinitely.”
“Thanks, Nora. That will be all.”
She leaned forward but didn’t quite stand. “Does that mean you’re sufficiently cheered?”
“It does.”
“Promise you’ll call me if you need to hear more about my bad dates?”
“Only if you promise to tell Brook to mind her own business if she calls again.”
“You’re the boss.”
“Thanks,” I said, staring back down at my catalogue full of chaise lounges.
Nora turned the handle on the door.
“Oh one more thing,” I said.
She turned around. “Yes?”
“Do you know how to break someone’s nose?”
“Of course,” she said, raising her fist to demonstrate. “You just bash the side of their nose in like you’ve got a stake in your hand.”
“Correct.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You thinking of breaking someone’s nose?”
“Of course not,” I said. “I just wanted to make sure you knew how. Ya know, in case one of your Tinder dates gets fresh.”
Chapter 12: Ben
Her assistant wasn’t there when I walked in.
Neither were the boxes that had been stacked in the waiting room during my last visit.
In fact, if it weren’t for the fragrant flowers on the front desk, the room would’ve felt stark.
Carrie’s office door was open a crack. I hung the jacket she left at the hotel on the coat rack outside it and took a deep breath.
I hadn’t seen her in over a week and her absence was making me nauseous.
It was stupid. And pathetic. But it was the truth.
I’d tried to give her space and hoped she would come around, but I was sick and tired of waiting. And I wasn’t getting over her. That much I knew for sure.
