Cry Me a River

by Devyn Dawson

  “I’ve never seen anyone take a shot like that, are you okay?” Caide is grinning at me and I’m trying hard to keep it together.

  “That was delicious,” I lie.

  “Great, we’ll do another one in a minute and go sit out by the pool.”

  Awesome.

  He tells me how his cat Dexter and my cat Casanova had an epic hiss off when they met each other. He shows me a video he took of the cats hissing, which is cute that he likes to record the pets being funny.

  Caide brings the bottle over and pours us another shot. Lucky me. Now I know what to expect, I’m more scared than I was over the first shot. He has a cat that ate the canary smug smirk on his face.

  I hold my shot up in the air and he follows my lead. “Salute!”

  “Salute!” Caide’s head goes back and the shot is done before I even bring mine to my mouth. “River, you don’t have to drink it.”

  “Oh I’m drinking it.” I hold it up and toss it back to the back of my throat. This time the burn is less severe, probably because all the nerve endings were destroyed during the first shot.

  Caide busts out laughing, not a cute man laugh, more like a robust lunatic laugh.

  “What! Don’t laugh!” I exclaim as I smack my shot glass on the table.

  “You’re an interesting chick, River.” Caide’s amusement is evident by the look on his face.

  I play nonchalant, as though I shoot whiskey three times a week. “I’m not kidding, that whiskey will put hair on your chest,” I say for no apparent reason. I look up into his eyes and I start giggling. “Not that I have hair on my chest, but you do.” Oh shit! My diarrhea mouth is about to make an appearance.

  “You looked at my chest? I think it only fair I see yours then,” Caide flirts.

  I’m not sure if he’s serious, so I laugh him off. “Ha! Ha! I know what you’re doing Mr. Palmer, you think you’re slick.”

  “Come on out to the deck, we’ll take another shot in a minute, grab your shot glass and bring it with you.”

  “Do you have any beer? I feel if I’m going to shoot like a man, I should drink like one too.” I get up faster than I should, and stumble slightly. Caide didn’t notice, or if he did he didn’t say anything. I take a deep breath to sober up my mind.

  The deck moans as we walk across it to the table by the pool.

  “Your house is really magnificent, have you lived here long?”

  He hands me a Coors Light after taking the top off.

  “My parents owned the place and were going to put it on the market, I offered to buy it, that was a little over three years ago. I’ve had tons of work done to the place to modernize it. My parents are the kind who will never change anything. The house they live in is the same house I grew up in…everything is in the same place. We got new furniture, but it went in the exact spot the furniture before it did. My mother is very OCD about things being a certain way. That could be why I love change so much.”

  I nod my head up and down. “Yeah, it probably is. Does she like the changes you’ve made here at the house?” I take a long drink off my beer and wrap my napkin around it to catch the sweat from the humidity.

  Caide leans back in his chair, it makes an obnoxious sound on the decking. “I think she likes it, but she can’t handle being in the house with all of the changes. My dad keeps saying he’s moving in. He’s joking of course.”

  I scoot in and put my elbows on the table and rest my chin on my hand. “Tell me about her.”

  “Tell you about who?” Caide leans forward, mimicking me.

  “Your ex, her name was Heather wasn’t it?” There, I finally asked the burning questions. If he talks so highly and respectful of her, why were they broken up when she died? We both lift our beers and take a drink.

  He cocks his head over to the side. “Yes, her name was Heather. There isn’t too much to tell that isn’t already in the news.”

  “I haven’t seen the news, Caide.”

  He thinks about it for a couple of moments and takes the bottle of whiskey pouring us both another shot.

  “Heather and I met at the beach when I was sixteen and she was fifteen. She was happy and filled with life. She lost her virginity to me, I told her I was a virgin too. I wasn’t. I never told her any differently, even after our many break-ups. I wasn’t looking for a girlfriend and soon got bored with her. It wasn’t to be mean, I was focused on getting my cooking gig off the ground. When I was twenty we started to date for real. She was fun and people enjoyed being around her. She did impressions of stars like Demi Moore or Miley Cyrus, her voice was perfect for the husky girl sound. She was an angel to me, and I wanted nothing more than to live up to be the man she wanted.” Caide pauses for a second and takes another drink from his beer.

  “You don’t have to tell me Caide….it’s all so fresh for you. I’m sorry, that was insensitive of me to ask.” Open mouth and insert foot. Damn, I should have stayed in my room.

  His hand reaches over and pats mine. “I’m fine, really I am. Since she died, I haven’t stopped going long enough to sit back and remember the good parts of her. It’s all been about getting Lucy to live with me, so I’ve been living like a robot and trying to stay out of trouble. Heather and I loved one another but it was different. I think what we had was childhood crushes that blossomed into a relationship. The reason we never married was I was unsure if we were going to have the kind of love like my parents. I never thought we wouldn’t marry, I just wasn’t positive we were really in-love. She didn’t particularly want to get married either. She grew up privileged, with parents who disliked me with a passion. Technically, they still do. It was after the birth of Lucy when things started to change. Heather wanted to go out to clubs and be free. I thought I was doing right by her by letting her go out. I stayed home with Lucy and Heather started hanging out with a new crowd. She was always wanting to have after-parties here at the house and we would get into huge arguments about not having a house full of strangers with our daughter in the house. I’m not trying to talk ill of the dead, so please don’t think I’m trying to bash her.”

  I finish off my beer and he grabs two more. “I don’t think you’re talking bad about her; don’t worry about what I think. I think you’re pretty amazing,” I blurt out, and by the look on his face, he’s surprised. “Did you have after-parties before she was pregnant?”

  “No, that’s just it, we didn’t have big parties very often. I was always having the house worked on and didn’t want people in it destroying what had been done. These girls she was clubbing with were bad news. They’re who turned her on to blow. Heather had access to one of my bank accounts and she was withdrawing a few hundred every time she went out. As time went on, she was taking a thousand dollars out here and there. That was pretty much my breaking point. I couldn’t let her stay here. I know that sounds bad, I didn’t kick her to the streets. I thought once the people didn’t have a house to go party at, they would leave her alone. I thought her not having access to my money would make her quit the drugs. It made her quit the expensive drugs, and that’s when she turned to meth. She was even shooting up the final months of her life. Lucy came to visit about every other week and Heather would promise me she’s cleaning up and we would be a family.” Caide stopped talking and sighed.

  This Caide is vulnerable, and beautiful in ways I’d never have thought him to be. This is a man who had to grow up and had to make some serious decisions in his short life.

  Falling.

  “Let’s toast to Heather,” I say and lift the shot glass full of whiskey up. He holds his up, but I look at his face and can see tears welled up. Don’t cry Caide. “To Heather, may peace and love be with her.”

  “To Heather.” Caide swallows it down and turns his face away from me for a second. I want nothing more than to comfort him, but I don’t want to embarrass him so I leave him be.

  “Thank you for sharing, I know it has to be hard. I’ll do whatever I can to help you get your daughter back. We’ll save
that conversation until later. I should go to bed before you drink me under the table. Stand up, I want to hug you.” I really want to rip off my clothes and do you on the pool table. I don’t think sponsors should do that though.

  He stands up and we hug, my breasts are pressed against him and he holds me tight. I lean my head back without breaking from our hug, and say good night. He’s looking down at me and one of his hands glides up and down my back. My heart is pounding so loud, I’m sure he can feel it through my breasts. I swallow nervously, trying not to gulp. His eyes are smoldering, oh hell. The thought of him kissing me made me breathless. I’m liquored up and ready to go…but the adult in me says that’s a very bad idea.

  Don’t you dare kiss me, Caide Palmer, with those perfect lips on that perfect face?

  Please kiss me.

  With your tongue…yeah, with your tongue.

  I’m like an instant slut, just add liquor.

  Fuck me right now!

  He gives me a quick squeeze and says “Good night River, tomorrow, you can spill your guts. Sleep well.”

  Good night? Who the hell does that? He had kissing eyes on, he’s not fooling me with this gentleman act.

  I bop down the hall to my room. I call it bopping because I’m walking on the balls of my feet and I’m bouncing up and down like a drunkard after Oktoberfest,

  ____________________________________________

  Chapter Seven

  Here once, through an alley Titanic,

  Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul-

  Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul

  Edgar Alan Poe

  CAIDE

  Thursday morning.

  I should have fucking kissed her the other night, but she doesn’t need the likes of me to complicate things. It would have been so easy to get her back in my bed….under my sheets…in my shower…between her…. The last few days, my thoughts have gone back and forth between wishing I had kissed her and being glad I didn’t. It’s been impossible to quit thinking about her, from the way she walks and laughs, to the way she twirls her hair around her finger when she’s thinking.

  “Good morning Caide,” River startles me as she enters the kitchen. She is as quiet as a cat hunting prey. I should buy her a bell to wear so I’ll hear her coming. “The coffee smells really great, is that the Jamaican coffee you told me about yesterday?”

  “Good Morning River, it is, I hope you like it. Before you run off to work, remember today’s a long day today. I have my parenting class, meeting with my attorney, interview, and I’ll be running to my office. I’ll see you at the meeting tonight. You have the key I gave you and mace with you right?” Why I feel so protective over her is a mystery. I should go to the beach tomorrow night and get laid, maybe that will take her off my mind. Stewart would probably kiss me on the mouth if I said let’s do a guy weekend at the beach. It never turns out to be just a guy weekend, not when it’s bikini season.

  “My friend Ryan is going with me to meet the security company at my house. I’m dropping Rusty off at doggie daycare and then I’ll be at my store the rest of the day. I know we haven’t really had a chance to sit down and talk since Sunday, but I want you to be aware I appreciate your kindness. Ryan said I could stay with him so you can have your house back.” River has her head tilted up, with one hand holding a small mirror and the other hand sweeping mascara on her eyelashes. Every time my make-up artist comes towards me with a mascara brush I run. How women wear that stuff every day is baffling to me.

  I stare at her trying to control my lips from twitching into a smile. “You’re kidding right? You do not send your dog to daycare! I’ve heard it all now.”

  “Yes, Rusty likes to get out and socialize every once in a while.”

  “Before I forget, here,” I hand her the two tickets I’ve been meaning to give her. “These are for you and your friend Ryan to come to the show next week. You said he’s a huge fan, I figure you can sit and make faces at me.”

  Her face goes from happy to even happier.

  Without warning, her arms are around my neck and she kisses me on the cheek. I’m hit with a hint of a sweet perfume mingled with her body wash. A symphony of fragrances fills the air. “You’re welcome. Hell with this type of reaction, I wonder what you’d do for a season pass.”

  “You’re funny. No, really thank you. Ryan’s birthday is next week; this will be a huge surprise. Caide, you’re alright in my book.” River nudges me with her shoulder.

  “Kid, I’m leaving if I’m going to be on time today. Does the cat do yoga classes? I mean, if the dog goes to daycare, I’m sure the cat has yoga classes.”

  River throws the kitchen towel at me. “Get out of here!”

  ____________________________________________

  “Alex, that’s some bullshit. No one can tell me who can stay at my house. It isn’t as though I’m fucking her. She’s a friend in need; I’m not going to send her to a house where a crazed psychopath can harm her.” I’ve been in Alex’s office for twenty minutes. After every parenting class, I’m to take her the handout they give us to turn in to the judge. They stamp it so the attorney can let the judge know the client is following the rules. That’s me, Mr. Rule Follower.

  Alex is clicking her ink-pen in frustration. “Caide, I’m your attorney and I’m giving it to you straight. If Lucy’s grandparents find out you have a woman living with you, they’ll flip out. You know they will, and it will go over like a lead balloon with the judge.”

  I’m so agitated I grit my teeth together. “She is NOT living with me. She has stayed in the guest room since Saturday night. I’m not losing Lucy over something so ridiculous and I’m not telling River to leave.” I take the check my accountant gave me to pay Alex with and set it on the desk in front of her. “Here’s my fees through today. Look, I’m not mad at you…I’m frustrated with the situation. People are always saying to watch out for your neighbor, help people when they’re down, be a good Samaritan. BUT when you are, people will shoot you down. I’m disgusted with the judicial system.”

  “If it will make you feel better Caide, I believe in the judicial system, and we will have Lucy home before Christmas.”

  “I pray you’re right,” I stand up abruptly to leave. “I’ll see you in court, Alex.”

  “Before you leave, think about your daughter; is this woman worth the bureaucracy bullshit?”

  “I don’t know.” I turn on my heel and leave.

  ____________________________________________

  “Caide! God, am I glad to see you. We have some major issues going on. I don’t know what happened with the producers, but they fired the support staff.” Becky runs over frantically and blurts out like an auctioneer.

  I can’t help but wonder what happened with the planets over night to cause so much chaos in the world. My world. “Becky, calm down, let’s go to my office and talk behind closed doors,” I demand. This day is not getting any better.

  We hustle down the long hallway, all the while Becky is blathering on about make-up artists and hair stylists.

  I notice a small white box on my desk as we enter my office. Most everyone is off today because it isn’t a film day. My interview is with Janice Smith from Gourmet Chef magazine. None of their crew has shown up yet, which if they don’t hurry I’ll miss my meeting tonight. No, if they don’t get here, I’ll reschedule.

  “Becky - sit down and start over, from the beginning. Tell me what’s going on.” I move the tissue sized box over and give a quick glance at my desk calendar.

  “Check this out,” she hands me a piece of paper, “that was an email we received this morning.”

  I stare at the email trying to make sure I understand what happened over night. “The entire support staff went on a drunken rampage last night? They got kicked out of the hotel after they were caught having a party with a bunch of underage teens? Oh shit!” Should I laugh or add it to the list of shit to go wrong today?

  “That’s what I said! The problem is, your interv
iew on Good Morning America is tomorrow morning and we don’t have anyone to do your make-up. You did remember they’re going to be at your house to set up around 4:30 tomorrow morning, right?” Becky has her binder open and frantically taking notes.

  No I totally forgot that was this week, but I’m not telling Becky…she’d fall over from a heart attack if I did. “It’s all good. I’ll get one of the staff over at the news station to come over and glamorize me. I’m sure the network will have someone before next week’s show. You could always double as one for me,” I tease.

  Becky throws her hands in the air exasperated. “If you want to look like a drag-queen, I’m more than happy to do it. This is major Caide, if the local media finds out about that party, they will try to link it to you. It sounds stupid, but hon, you DO NOT possess the luxury of having bad press right now. It would suck if the judge tries to link you to the party, or say you were aware of the shenanigans of the staff.”

  “Fuck me! I’ll call Alex and tell her to be ready to put out some fires. Any other news?” I take my I-pad out and add information to the calendar.

  “I do have good news for you, if you’re interested,” Becky lifts her eyebrows and grins like a mad scientist.

  “I’ll bite, what’s the quote unquote good news?”

  “It seems as though you’ve made an impression on someone. A fan wrote in to Playgirl and requested you to be featured as a centerfold. The magazine sent a copy of the letter in the email. I guess the fan said you have “mad fucking skills.” I’m just saying what the email said,” Becky bursts out laughing as she hands me the print out.

  Dear Playgirl,

  Recently, I met the foxy, Caide Palmer, at the beach in Emerald Isle, North Carolina. After cooking out at the beach and dancing to live music, he invited me to his place for privacy. Boy, was I in for the best fuck of my life! Caide is not only a great chef, but the boy can toss my salad any day. His dick is big and thick, perfect for the G-spot, he had me screaming all night long. He has mad fucking skills.