Living Backwards

by Tracy Sweeney

  “What’s up, Pete?”

  “Hey man, your friends are here,” he informed me. I could hear Danielle’s chatter in the background. As long as I kept Josh around, working with Danielle would be fine. He seemed to have a way of reeling her in and, truly, the girl needed to be reeled in. Poor Bastard must have learned some survival skills over the years.

  I grabbed the plans for The Rusted Nail along with some of the rough sketches I had pulled together to remodel it into a restaurant. I was by no means an artist, but I had an idea of how I wanted the new place to look. As I passed by the pictures in the hall once again, I thought that maybe I should ask Danielle to do a little redecorating here as well. Maybe I didn’t need closure. Maybe I just needed a change.

  Walking out of the hallway and into the bar, it wasn’t just Josh and Danielle I saw speaking to Peter, but Megan, Nate and Jillian, as well. I may not have wanted closure, but it seemed to keep looking for me.

  “Hey, guys,” I said, pressing my lips into a smile. My face felt tight and contorted. I wondered if I looked as uncomfortable as Jillian had looked earlier. I probably looked worse.

  “Luke, can I just tell you how very honored I am that you’re trusting me with this job. I’m so proud of you, and I want this new venture of yours to be the talk of the town,” Danielle said.

  It was sweet of her to say. I knew her feelings were genuine, and if I weren’t so aware of the fact that Jillian was in the room, I might have been able to return the compliment without fumbling over my words. Instead I thanked her and motioned for them to follow me to a booth along the wall.

  “Oh darn, I forgot my design book,” she exclaimed. “Jillian, sweetie, I think I may have left it in your car.”

  “Why would it be in my car?” Jillian asked, sounding tired and confused.

  “Remember I threw it in there when we were moving stuff over to the warehouse earlier today?”

  She scrunched up her nose while she appeared to be thinking back to earlier in the day.

  “I don’t remember seeing it. Maybe you took it out already.”

  “Just to be sure, can I just grab your keys and take a quick peek? I may have shoved it under the seat.”

  “I’ll go look,” Jillian offered, pulling her keys from her purse. I couldn’t blame her for wanting to go. If I could’ve gotten away with offering to look for it, I probably would have, too.

  “No, no. I don’t want you walking across the street to the lot alone. Josh will come with me. Right, honey?” she replied, grinning up at the Poor Bastard.

  Jillian handed her keys to Danielle, then looked over to Megan and shrugged. When she looked away, I watched as Nate and Megan exchanged curious looks. Megan leaned in to whisper something into his ear.

  “I’ll be right back, Luke,” Danielle announced, as she and Josh breezed by me.

  “I get the feeling Danielle still gets her way a lot,” I said to Nate.

  “Dude, you have no idea,” he laughed. “But don’t let it fool you. Josh is the one calling the shots in that relationship. He’s probably the only one who she’ll listen to when she gets an idea in her head.”

  “You’re telling me,” Meg muttered, shaking her head. Jillian looked at her questioningly, but Megan shrugged her off.

  When Danielle and Josh came barreling back in, Danielle had a large leather portfolio in her hands and Josh had a number of smaller binders.

  “I’m such a spaz,” she began, shaking her head.

  “That’s old news,” Megan interjected.

  “Stuff it, Meg,” she shot back. “What I meant was that it was in my car all along.”

  “As interesting as fabric swatches and paint chips may be, Luke, we’re going to take off,” Megan began. “We just figured we’d pop in since the bar was on the way to Nate’s place. He has an early practice in the morning. See you girls for lunch tomorrow,” she added, giving them each quick hugs goodbye. “I’ll be at Nate’s tonight.”

  “You, me and Fletcher are going out soon, hear me?” Nate said pointing at me as he headed to the door.

  “As long as he keeps the top hat at home,” I replied. Josh shoved my shoulder as Danielle protested in the background.

  “You looked good, baby,” she added, rubbing his arm. “Don’t listen to him.”

  “He’s just jealous because Jillian didn’t pick out a tux with any flair.”

  Jillian’s eyes widened at the mention of the prom, and she openly glared at Josh. Danielle smiled triumphantly, pleased with his response, before turning back to me.

  “So, I want to leave these books with you, Luke. There are paint colors and swatches. I realize that it’s a little overwhelming, but I’d just like to get an idea of your style before I go forward.”

  She thrust the heavy portfolio at me along with a number of glossy binders, and I handed her my sketches and the preliminary plans for the remodel.

  “I know that a lot of guys aren’t into choosing color palates, but if you have a young lady in your life that you’d like to run these by…” she sang with a smirk.

  I was about to tell her that I was perfectly capable of looking at some books about colors when Jillian abruptly bolted for the bathroom. This was becoming a recurring theme with her.

  “God, look at the time, baby,” Danielle said suddenly, raising her wrist and checking her watch. “And I still need to head back to the showroom and make sure everything looks all right.”

  “Why are you going there?” Josh replied, shaking his head. “I thought you said—”

  “Honey, have you seen the work these so-called clean-up crews do? I have,” she said, answering her own question. “Luke, can you tell Jill that I’ll see her tomorrow for lunch? I really think we should go before it gets any later.”

  I was momentarily seized with panic knowing that I’d be left alone with Jillian again. It occurred to me that she would probably be equally as horrified. After the way I had behaved, she probably didn’t want to speak to me very much either.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” Danielle stated, grabbing me for a hug.

  “You hang in there,” Josh added, chuckling, which was kind of strange.

  When they were both out the door, I walked through the room, helping Peter by turning the chairs over onto the tables. I had only managed a few when Jillian walked back in. She looked flustered.

  “Where’s Danielle?” she asked, addressing me for the first time since she had arrived.

  “She and Josh needed to go back to the showroom to check on something,” I replied, coolly. “She said she’d see you at lunch.”

  “Great,” she sighed.

  She looked down at her feet, fidgeting with the purse in her hands. When she looked back up, her eyes were glassy and then I truly began to panic.

  “Can I…I mean, can we...” she trailed off, frustrated, and my pulse began to race. I didn’t want to have this conversation. “Luke, I know that there’s nothing I can say to explain…”

  I felt my whole body react—vibrating from her verbal left hook. My defensives went up immediately.

  Don’t tell me “It wasn’t you, it was me”, Jillian because I can’t handle hearing that shit.

  “Listen, Jillian, honestly, you don’t need to do this,” I interrupted. Which was a lie. I wanted her to be upset. I wanted her to want to explain. I think I even wanted her to cry. I just didn’t want to hear it. “It’s late. Let me walk you to your car.”

  She breathed in a ragged breath, finally nodding before following me to the door. Wordlessly, I waved to Pete over my shoulder and led her outside. The bastard actually winked at me.

  We crossed the street in silence until we reached the public lot where most of our patrons parked. There were only a few cars left since it was so late. I think I expected to see the crap car she drove in high school, but I didn’t.

  “This is me,” she said, signaling to a black Jetta.

  “No more Red Baron,” I remarked almost wistfully. I hadn’t thought about what
I was saying before I spoke. The last thing I wanted to do was bring up the car and any memories attached.

  “Um...no,” she replied absently, as she rifled through her purse. I heard her curse under her breath before she brought the pocketbook up onto the hood of the car and resumed her search, frantically grabbing at the items inside. She stopped abruptly, covering her mouth with her hands.

  “Danielle has my keys,” she announced, as if she were saying it to herself and not to me. She dug back in her bag, pulling out a phone and began dialing. Her whole body seemed to be humming with nervous energy. She shifted slightly from one foot to the other, playing with the buttons on the sleeve of her wool coat as she waited for the person to pick up.

  “God damn it, Danielle, where are you?” she shouted into the phone. “You never returned my keys. Call me back as soon as you get this message.”

  She gripped the phone tightly, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

  “Luke,” she began calmly. “Would you mind if I waited inside so I can call a cab to take me to Danielle’s house?”

  “But they’re going to the showroom,” I reminded her, already panicking myself.

  “Well, until she calls me back,” she explained, throwing her phone into her pocketbook in frustration.

  “I can drive you to Danielle’s house. You don’t need to get a cab,” I offered awkwardly. “There isn’t anyone who has a spare key to your car?”

  Boyfriend, maybe?

  “I live with Megan, but she turns her ringer off when she stays with Nate because he usually has to wake up so early. Danielle has my spare, but she’s not answering her cell,” she explained uncomfortably. At least we had that in common. Nothing would be more uncomfortable than driving Jillian home.

  After trying Josh’s cellphone and their house phone, Jillian finally conceded and tried dialing Nate’s number, but it was sent directly into his voicemail.

  “Why don’t we swing back to the showroom? They’re probably still there and Danielle’s wreaking havoc,” I suggested because imagining being stuck in a car with her was making me crazy.

  “Are you sure?” she asked uncertainly.

  “Yeah, that’s fine,” I answered coolly, showing her over to my car. I opened the passenger side door for her and walked over to my side. When I stepped into the seat, I was immediately assaulted by the smell of her perfume.

  I flipped on the radio to avoid any forced conversation. I couldn’t decide which was worse—a conversation about Seattle weather or a half-assed apology for taking off on me years ago. Both sounded pretty depressing so I avoided it altogether.

  She sat rigid in the seat beside me, occasionally looking out the window. She was clutching her purse, and if I gripped the steering wheel any tighter, I might have broken it in two.

  “Do you have any neighbors that might have spare keys?” I asked, causing her to jump.

  “I don’t think so. I was going to call Suzanne, but it’s almost two in the morning,” she added, shaking her head. “I just don’t know.”

  “Relax. We’re almost there. We’ll figure it out.” I wanted to sound confident, but I truthfully didn’t want to talk about our options because none of them appealed to me.

  As we turned the corner onto the side-street where Danielle’s showroom was located, Jillian craned her neck, looking over me and out my driver’s side window to scan the parking lot. The shift in her position caused her to move slightly closer, the scent of her perfume more concentrated.

  “I don’t see any cars,” she sighed, leaning over further. Even though I knew it was empty, I pulled into the lot so she’d have a better view and move back into her own seat. My body was already reacting to how close she was. Apparently my dick didn’t get the memo that we were pissed at her.

  I drove the length of the building and everything was dark.

  “I’m calling them again,” she announced, plucking her phone from her bag. I watched her dial and could hear the tinny sound of the voice mail picking up.

  “Do you want me to drive you by their house?”

  She began shaking her head again, and I worried she was about to cry. This night had rapidly gone from bad to worse.

  “Luke, I just—”

  “Let’s just go,” I interrupted, before she had a chance to continue. “Where do they live?”

  When I turned to look at her, she had her eyes squeezed shut and was leaning all the way back against the headrest.

  “They’re over near Magnolia Park,” she sighed, keeping her eyes closed. While it was in the opposite direction of my condo, it wasn’t going to take long to get there. She gave me directions, and we rode in silence without the comfort of the radio. I wished I hadn’t turned it off. The silence was deafening. It was Jillian who spoke first.

  “You still don’t smoke in your car.”

  “Um, no. Habit, I guess,” I replied, her comment seeming random to me.

  “Your Lexus used to smell like lemons.”

  My chest constricted again, not as much with the longing I had been feeling, but with pure anger. I couldn’t understand how she could think a walk down memory lane would be a good idea.

  “Jillian, what are you doing?” I sighed, gripping the steering wheel, trying to keep my temper in check.

  Her eyes widened once she noticed my reaction as she opened and closed her mouth, wordlessly.

  “I just…I was just remembering,” she stammered.

  She didn’t speak again until it was time to point out the street where Danielle and the Poor Bastard lived.

  “I don’t believe this,” she moaned, as we pulled up to a large pacific lodge off the main street. The house was dark, but there was a silver sedan in the driveway. “They’re not home. Where the hell did they go?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, confused. “Whose car is that?” I said motioning to the driveway.

  “That’s Josh’s car. They were in Danielle’s SUV. I don’t even know what to say, Luke. None of this makes sense.”

  She drew in a deep breath, and it was clear that she was biting back tears. I didn’t want to feel bad for her. I was so sick of feeling bad. I knew I had acted like a dick. I knew I was harsh, but this wasn’t my doing. I didn’t create this situation. She left me. I was frustrated and angry, and I just wanted to go home and forget that any of it ever happened. Instead, I was being forced to do something that might very well break me.

  I couldn’t believe what I was about to offer, but I wasn’t left a choice. I was going to bring her back to my condo. Even though I spent every day at the bar surrounded by reminders of her, this was different. This was where I lived. Would I ever be able to walk into my living room again without seeing her sitting on my couch? Would I continue to smell her perfume long after she left? And if Danielle didn’t call, would I need to give her some of my clothes to wear to bed? It was a bad idea, but I was going to do it anyway.

  “I’m going to drive you back to my place.” Her head jerked in my direction, and while she still looked very upset, now she also looked completely incredulous. “You can crash there and when Danielle calls, she can come and get you.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that, Luke,” she replied, shaking her head rapidly in response. “Just drop me off at one of the hotels downtown. I’ll have Meg pick me up in the morning.”

  “I’m not dropping you off at a hotel,” I argued, frustrated. I was pissed at the situation and she wasn’t doing anything to make it easier. I didn’t want to argue with her so I flipped the radio back on. It may have been rude, but dropping her off at a hotel would be even worse.

  So I drove silently in my car that didn’t smell like lemons with the girl who didn’t say goodbye, so that I could take her to my house and pretend that seeing her, talking to her, looking at her didn’t bother me at all.

  I don’t know when I became such a liar.

  CHAPTER 21

  Jillian

  When I was fifteen, the dentist told my mother that I would probabl
y need to have my wisdom teeth removed sometime within the next few years. I knew people who had the procedure done. I had heard the horror stories, so this news did not sit well with me.

  On each subsequent visit, I got more and more nervous waiting for the day that he would finally tell me he was going to yank them out. My heart would race, my hands would shake, and I would want to vomit. By the time he finally told me that we couldn’t hold off any longer—nearly two years later—I was almost relieved. I wouldn’t have to wait for the other shoe to drop anymore. I wouldn’t have to feel like throwing up every time I went to the dentist. I could just get it over with. Ironically, in the end, the procedure hadn’t been that big of a deal. It was the waiting and the wondering that had been torture.

  As I sat in a car, next to the boy I loved—who wasn’t a boy anymore—I was reminded of that feeling. I was going to apologize to Luke, but waiting for the right moment and wondering how he would react was slowly killing me. It was going to be painful. It was going to be uncomfortable. But unlike the wretched experience with my wisdom teeth, there wouldn’t be any painkillers to dull the ache.

  Luke, however, wasn’t making it easy. I wanted to tell him that I had only done what I thought was right, but he cut me off. I wanted to tell him how happy I was to see him, and how hard it was not to touch him, but he wouldn’t even look at me. Even though I was terrified of the conversation, I knew that we needed to have it, and he needed to hear the words. An apology might not mean much to him, but it was all I had to give. I was beginning to believe that my impending conversation with him might honestly be more painful than the oral surgery.

  Complicating matters was the fact that I had no idea what I was going to say if he asked me why I left. It wasn’t as if I could be honest.

  Sorry Luke, I fell hopelessly in love with you and couldn’t bear the thought of you compromising your happiness for me. Please forgive me. I know your future and I didn’t want to screw it up.

  Not likely.

  I had no explanation. There wasn’t any miscommunication. My parents didn’t force me to leave. I didn’t run away because I was afraid of my feelings. I was from another time and I was changing his life. I was blindly responsible for his future and I was in love with him. How could I ever explain the burden that type of responsibility bore?