Why did I let myself get into such situations? I had a history of doing things like this. Once, in Florida, I met what I thought was a pretty nice guy who wanted to take me for a ride in his van on the beach. So we did, and he parked in the middle of nowhere and began cleaning it up. I thought what a stupid thing to do! Clean your van with guests in it. It was only later, much later, when I was back at home doing laundry that I realized he was cleaning off a spot to have sex in. I was so naïve sometimes.
I began to panic a little. What if he tried to rape me? I listened for noises coming from the other apartments, but heard nothing. I thought that maybe I could scream if something happened. Miles didn't look like a rapist, but then rapists usually don't look the part.
If he wasn't a rapist, I doubted that I would go out with him again. I didn't have anything in common with this guy, I thought as I stared out into his barren backyard. A year ago I wouldn't have even looked at a guy like him. What the fuck happened to me? Was I becoming a desperate tramp? At least with Kurt and Noah there was an attraction. Miles was cute, but I didn’t see anything at all interesting about him.
I decided that I would wait for him by the door when he got back and insist he take me home when he walked in. I waited for what seemed like forever, and finally saw him drive in.
I pounced when he walked in. I had a good story, too.
"Hi. I have to go home. I just remembered that I was going to work for my friend Sarah tonight. I have to go home," I repeated.
Miles looked startled as I walked out of his apartment past him and down the stairs. I had given him no choice and it felt good.
"OK."
"Sorry. I should have had you just drop me off earlier, " I said in my best fake sincere voice. Miles said nothing.
I was pretty pleased with myself on the drive home. I had been in a potentially bad situation and I saved the day. Maybe one day I would leave all those potentially bad situations behind me and stop acting like an idiot.
We drove to my house in silence. He stopped in front of my house and I opened the door to get out before he stopped the car completely.
"Thanks! See you later!" I was all smiles and sunshine, jumping out of the car before he could say a word, make future plans, or try to kiss me. I closed the door and walked away.
Whew! Miles was certainly unskilled on how to talk to the ladies, I thought, all rapist scenarios vanishing from my head. My only troubling thoughts were that he knew where I lived and worked. He was too unsophisticated to be a stalker, I thought, calming myself. I felt immediately foolish. The man worked for Meals on Wheels! The elderly let him into their homes on a daily basis. Surely I had no reason not to trust him. I doubted that I would go out with Meals on Wheels Miles again, though. Unless he was a secret superhero or something, he had nothing to offer me.
Chapter 17
When I was telling Sarah about my disastrous first "date" with Miles a couple of nights later at the Garden, I left out the part where I panicked and thought he was a rapist. I framed it to make him look like he was rude to leave me alone in his apartment while he went on a delivery.
"Clearly the man does not know how treat women," I said.
"That sounds a lot like my date," Sarah said, referring to the biker she met that night. "I didn't realize that I had to pay for everything. I thought the guy was on disability. That must be code for unemployed." Sarah's date consisted of sitting on the guy's couch watching America's Most Wanted, ordering pizza, drinking beer, and eating chips. At the end of the night, he wanted sex, and Sarah had to run out of the door, being more agile than he was, being disabled and all.
"Maybe next time we can go to a nicer bar to meet men," I said, ever hopeful, grabbing a rag to bus the tables.
"That sounds like a good idea," Sarah said, laughing. I went into the dining area, intent on cleaning the dining room during the lull. I was wiping off a table and looking out the window when a familiar voice said "hi" behind me. I turned around. It was Miles.
"Miles. What are you doing here?" I said, none too pleased. My hand curled involuntarily around the cleaning rag.
"I remembered you told me you worked here, so I thought I would stop by and say hi."
"That's nice. How have you been?" I looked at his face; he was handsome in a raw sort of way, but extremely pale and very thin. They must not pay him enough at Meals on Wheels. "Would you like something to drink or eat? The coffee here is pretty good." I gestured with my free hand toward the counter.
"No, I don't drink coffee."
"How about some tea, then?"
"No, that's ok."
Miles was a piece of work. He had absolutely nothing to say. He seemed ok with that fact though.
"How have you been?" I repeated myself.
"Good. I was wondering if you were able to go out for a drink after work."
Whatever for? So I could entertain him? I had to make an excuse, fast.
"Oh, I would love to, but I have to work at 6 a.m. tomorrow morning. I have to close at 11 tonight, then go home and come back first thing in the morning. It really sucks."
He looked at me like he knew I was lying. It wasn't my proudest moment.
"Some other time then."
"That would be great," I said, my voice full of fake enthusiasm. I wasn't about to give this guy the time of day tonight. He was going to have to earn my attention again.
Miles moved toward the door, looking at me expectantly. Not knowing what to say, I blurted out, "You know where to find me!"
"See ya," he said, glancing at me as he left the shop.
Great. Now I was going to have to move and find a new job! What a psycho magnet I was. I turned around and there was Noah standing at the counter, staring at me.
His appearance startled me. I hadn't seen him in such a long time that I blinked, thinking he was an apparition. After what he put me through, I wasn't about to act excited and happy to see him. I walked behind the counter tossing the rag into the small under-counter sink and then went to the sink.
"Hey," I said, looking at him over my shoulder as I washed my hands.
"Hi Mia. Was that guy bothering you?"
"Who? Miles? No, he is a friend of mine." I dried my hands off with a clean towel, tossing it behind me forcefully, which betrayed my anger. What the fuck business was it of Noah's? I decided to play hardball with poor, delicate Noah.
"How is Serena?" I stared at him, not smiling.
Noah looked a little shocked that I would bring her up. He obviously wasn't used to being talked to like this.
"We aren't together anymore." He looked regretful but I didn’t trust my feelings around him.
"Sure. I have heard that one before. But really, who cares? What can I get you?" Noah's hold on me was broken, apparently.
Noah looked flustered. "I guess I'll have a latte." Noah reached into his pocket and pulled out actual money. This act was shocking in itself, but what he said next, floored me.
"I was wondering what you are doing after work."
"Why?" I could be openly hostile to him now. I took his money and gave him change.
"I would like you to come over. I have written a couple of new songs and would like you to hear them."
"I don't think so. I have to work in the morning." This lie was coming in handy. The truth was, tomorrow was my day off.
"You can stay over, you know, like you used to."
"Well, we were kind of going out at the time, or so I thought. I didn't know what the hell was going on."
"I'm really sorry about that Mia. I was a jerk."
What? Noah apologizing? No way. I was suspicious. I decided to end the conversation.
"Noah, you treated me like crap and I took it, but I'm not going to anymore. You are a liar and a cheater and after what I went through with Ian, you would think you would know better."
"I know and I am sorry. I really liked having you as my girlfriend. You made me happy."
"Were we in the same relationship? I was not your girlfri
end. You treated me like garbage! If that is how you treated Serena, no wonder you are no longer together. I paid for everything, you used to cry over Serena, and then you cheated on me with her, basically moving her in while I still lived there. Then you didn't have the balls to tell me, you made your stupid friends do it. You're an asshole. Don't talk to me again."
I turned around and walked toward the kitchen, passing Sarah who had just come through its doors. She could deal with him. I entered the kitchen and stood by the dishwashing sink, shaking.
Sarah walked in after a couple of minutes. "He left. This just isn't your night, is it? First Miles, then Noah."
"No shit. They both wanted me to go out tonight. I lied and said I had to work. I must be just some stupid lay to both of them." I shook my head, disgusted at their behavior.
"Oh, come on," Sarah said, putting her arm around my shoulder. "You are not. Guys are just assholes. They never know what they got until it's gone."
"Thanks Sarah. I have to work on meeting a better caliber of man."
"Yes, so will I. I know that this is your third invitation, but would you like to go out and get a drink after work?"
"Yes, that sounds great."
Chapter 18
"Who was the first guy you ever kissed Mia?"
Sarah and I were sitting in at a booth in the bar that Kurt and I used to frequent, later that evening.
I laughed out loud. It was so long ago!
"Norman Graves in kindergarten."
"Wow! You started early!"
"Yes, I did. How about you?"
"I was in fifth grade. His name was John and we were in the coat closet in school. He held my hand and then dumped me for the new girl."
"What a jerk!"
"Little did I know it would be a pattern I would continue into my later years: jump into a relationship only to be dumped." Sarah shook her head.
"Is that what happened with Mark?"
"Yes. He was cheating on me. It seems the curfew he had was an excuse to get away from me and spend time with her. He moved in with her."
I suddenly felt guilty, having been the other woman. I had to know more.
"How long did it go on?"
"A year. When did he have time? I wasn't suspicious at all. He accounted for his time well, I guess. Or I am trusting idiot."
"I don't even know why I want a boyfriend," I said. The words were surprising to me. I had never considered the possibility.
"How long have you been in a relationship?" Sarah asked.
"I have had a steady boyfriend for over 10 years now. I have drifted from man to man. No matter who it is, I make it up in my mind that he is the “one” no matter what he thinks. It’s like I am in these relationships in my own little world.” The realization dazed me a bit.
"A lot of people are like that when they get into a new relationship. Everything is going great, there is a lot of optimism, and you may overlook things that in the normal world would drive you nuts. I think the bad part is clinging to something you know is horrible. Maybe you should be single for a while and decide what you want. I think that is what I am going to do," Sarah said, downing her vodka tonic.
"You are probably right," I said, not sure if I thought she was right. It was worth thinking about.
"Didn't you ever want to get out of this dead-end town?" Sarah asked, changing gears.
"To be honest Sarah, I have never thought about," I answered, suddenly embarrassed at my provinciality. Really, what the fuck did I go to college for? To work in a coffee shop? Professor Armiss’s offer lurked in the corner of my mind, mocking me.
"I don't want to work at the Organic Garden for the rest of my life," Sarah said, echoing my thoughts.
"Me either. I guess I thought the future would take care of itself and I wouldn't have to worry about it."
"Yea, when you don't worry about it, any awful thing can happen to you," Sarah said.
She was right. I was so busy looking for a man that not only did I have no self-esteem; I lost the right to complain about my life since I had no hand in shaping it. It was something I was going to have to think and do something about.
Ever since the scene with Miles at the Garden, I avoided him when he was making deliveries at Mrs. King's. I decided that Sarah was right; I really needed to figure out what I wanted. I became a virtual hermit, only venturing outside my parent's house when I had to work. Christmas passed, as did the new year as did the first day of spring.
In late March, I was cleaning my windshield off before work after a freak late snowstorm when Miles showed up to make his delivery, the slam of his car door snapping me out of my daydream. I stared at his car. I was so out of tune to the outside world that I didn’t even realize it was his delivery time.
"Hey," he said, eying me as he got out of his car.
"Hi." I turned my attention back to my covered windshield.
"I have been thinking about you."
"Really." I turned again toward him, making the briefest eye contact and then turned back. I didn't want him thinking about me one bit. From what I saw of him, he looked terrible. Pale and thin, his eyes were sunken into his skull. What the hell?
"I would like to go out with you some time."
"I don't know Miles," I said, finally looking at him at length, brandishing the scraper menacingly in my hand. "I kind of have been swearing off men. I don't have any luck, it seems."
Miles smiled, his crooked, yellow horse teeth jutting out of his mouth. I felt instantly sorry for him.
"We can go out, no strings attached."
"I'll call you," I said. It was best if I had control over this situation. I could see my neighbor peering out her front window behind him. "It looks like Mrs. King is waiting for you." Saved!
Miles looked over his shoulder and back at me.
"OK. Call me." He turned and walked toward Mrs. King's house and went in. I was finished scraping the window and got in to leave. As I was driving away, it occurred to me that I didn’t have his number. Oh well. If he didn’t give it to me, then I was off the hook for having to call him. It also occurred to me that I didn't see Miles take a tray of food into Mrs. King's house.
That was odd.
But what business was it of mine? I mean really. I had to stay strong to make sure that I didn't succumb to Miles' limited charms.
Over the past couple of months I had been really trying to get my act together by staying home, reading, and saving my money. I didn't want to ruin it by hanging out in Miles' icky North end apartment counting the cockroaches.
My shift at the Garden was unremarkable except for the fact that Hannah's water broke just when she was walking into work, which just happened to correspond to the end of my shift.
Kurt, who was still being scheduled at the same time as me, hustled her immediately out of the Garden and to the hospital. The upshot was that I ended up working a double shift for Joe more or less cheerfully because I didn't want to seem like an unreasonable bitch by complaining about it.
I didn't get home until late that night. The police were at Mrs. King's when I turned down my street.
"What happened?" I asked a few bystanders after getting out of my car.
"Frank Christopher found Mrs. King dead in her kitchen this afternoon."
"Oh no!" That was horrible news! Mrs. King was a nice woman. "What happened?" Frank Christopher was a kindly old man who lived down the block.
The man turned and looked at me, his eyes narrowing. "Drugs," he whispered. "Frank said he found a syringe and spoon on the table next to her."
Oh my God. Mrs. King was a junkie? That was certainly shocking and upsetting news.
I had a terrible thought.
"Do they know how long she was dead?"
"No. Why?"
"I saw her looking out her window this morning. She looked fine."
The man shook his head wordlessly and turned away.
I walked slowly toward my house. I hope Miles wasn't involved in some way. I wanted to cal
l him but realized that I didn't have his number. Blasted! I decided to try and get a hold of him through Meals on Wheels in the morning.
The next morning, I am sure the woman who answered at the phone at Meals on Wheels thought I was crazy when I asked about him.
"I'm sorry ma'am, we have no one by that name working for us."
"He delivered to Rose King on Marilyn Drive."
There was a pause.
"We don't have a Rose King as a client. Maybe he worked for a different agency."
"Ok." I hung up. Mystified about what was going on. The phone jolted me out of my trance. It was Kurt.
"Hannah had a girl!"
"Congratulations," I said not really feeling it. It was a classic example of the cycle of life: someone dies, someone is born.
"We are going to name her Summer."
"That's nice," I said, trying to keep unreasonable bitch lady at bay in myself.
"OK, I have to go. I have a million people to call."
I hung up. A swirl of emotions flooded my brain. I wondered if Miles was involved in Mrs. King's death. Of course he was, there was no other explanation. Mrs. King was a drug addict! That was why she always looked gray and was so thin.
Gray and thin. The wheels in my head slowly turned.
Miles was gray and thin. He had a pager. He went into Mrs. King's house without a tray of food. He never did say that he was from Meals on Wheels, did he?
I scoured my brain trying to remember. I don't recall him ever saying that he was from Meals on Wheels. I think I just assumed it. It wasn't like Mrs. King was an elderly shut-in or anything. What a dummy I was.
Her obituary a few days later bore this out. Mrs. King was only 58. She certainly looked older than that.
At the funeral, I scanned the crowd but didn't see Miles, although I didn’t expect him to attend. It was a sorrowful affair. I hadn't seen her kids in a long time and it was a sad reunion.
Later at the wake, which was held at Mrs. King's house after the funeral, I found myself in the hallway talking to Mrs. King's daughter Jessica. At four years older than me, she was the closest to me in terms of age in regard to her siblings.
Tomorrow's June Page 14
