by Nikki Young
I can feel myself starting to get pissed. I’m not sure why I’m angry at my brothers’ intrusive behavior, this is nothing new, yet tonight I feel like it forces me to confront something I’m not ready to confront. Admission of my feelings and the end of my relationship is not exactly something I want to share through dinner conversation. My fork clangs loudly against the plate as I widen my eyes at my brother Joe. “Yeah, we broke up. You happy now?” Any hum that occupied the room has now fallen silent and when no one speaks, I leave the table. I can’t sit still, not at a moment like this. I know my brothers think I’m a failure. The shock was written all over their faces immediately after the words left my mouth.
I finally come to a stop when I hit the front porch. Hot tears sting my cheeks when my father’s face appears in my mind. I can’t help but think that if he hadn’t died maybe I wouldn’t be trying to replace him. There has always been that void, regardless of how much support I had from my mother or my brothers, I was always missing that piece of me. It’s that part that only a father can fill with his unconditional love.
A heavy hand falls on my shoulder and I instinctively pull away, something I’ve grown used to doing when I’m upset. I clean the tears off my cheeks with my hand before turning around. My brother Joe is standing in front of me with the look of pity on his face. I know it well, too well. He’s the oldest one, the one who tried to take my father’s place when he died, but he also took the blame. It was Tommy who came through and picked up the pieces of our shattered lives. He says nothing as I walk into his waiting arms. Pressing my cheek against the warmth of his chest is more comforting than anything I can remember. I breathe in deeply, taking in his scent. It’s the same smell I remember from my father and with it comes a calm.
“This isn’t a big deal, you know that, right?” Joe says with calmness to his tone. His hand runs the length of my back and I choke back the tears that threaten. “I know we don’t like Ellis, but Tommy and I don’t like to see you upset. This doesn’t make us happy.”
“I know,” I mumble. “It’s just that...I don’t know.” I quit before I even begin to unload my irrational fears on him. I want to be happy and I don’t think Ellis is that for me, but what if I’m wrong.
“Leah, it doesn’t matter what choice you make. Just be happy.” He kisses the top of my head leaving me alone again. Alone with my thoughts swirling and my emotions on edge. When I finally make my way back to the kitchen, no one looks up or acknowledges me in any way. I’m not sure what’s worse, the uncomfortable silence or the barrage of questions I imagine are floating around in their heads. Thankfully Tommy’s wife cuts through the quiet and begins to fill us in on her last doctor’s appointment. She’s pregnant and due in December and I have never been so grateful that my brother knocked her up than I am right now. And although I can hear every word of the conversation, my thoughts are elsewhere. When my mother finishes cleaning up the kitchen, everyone shuffles out the door without mentioning my minor meltdown and my current single status.
When I reach my car, I’m done. The evening has been draining and my mind won’t seem to stop coming back to the mistakes I made in my relationship with Ellis. My phone rings just seconds after I start my car. Digging through my purse, I pull my phone from the bottom and find Ellis’ name lighting up the screen. It’s as if he can read my thoughts and for the first time in two and a half years I wonder if he finally understands how I’m feeling. I can’t even begin to deal with him right now, so I toss the phone onto the passenger seat and back out of the driveway before my family notices that I’ve been idle for too long.
Within minutes of leaving my mom’s house, my phone chimes alerting me to a voicemail. Ellis left a voicemail? Maybe things have changed. Generally he doesn’t even call, let alone leave a message. I can’t stop wondering what he has to say. The little red number one that suddenly seems the size of Texas is staring at me from the screen on my phone. It’s begging me to make it disappear. So against my better judgment and the voice in my head that is screaming, this is a bad idea, I play Ellis’ message. As soon as I hear his voice I feel my body respond. I miss him. I miss the normalcy, the calm and the comfort I find in just knowing he’s there, knowing that I once belonged to him. Maybe it’s because I know I could lose Ellis at any moment or that I have just uprooted my life and with that comes the uncomforting feeling of change.
“Leah,” he says firmly. “I thought I would have heard from you after my parents’ party, but I guess you’re still behaving like a stubborn child. Please know that whenever you would like to come home, I’d be more than happy to accept you back.” I pull the phone away from my ear and glare at it as if Ellis can see my anger. He still doesn’t get it. If this is his attempt at winning me over, he can get fucked because this message has only driven me further away. I mentally yell at myself for missing him for a hot second and then hit delete on his message before even bothering to listen to the rest of it.
My foot is exerting an extreme amount of pressure on the gas petal of my car, like it’s going to somehow ease my fury. I’m passing cars at such an extreme speed that it looks like they are moving in slow motion. I need to get away from Ellis, yet I can’t seem to out run him, remove him from my mind and my life as easily as I thought.
Chapter Six
I pull up in front of Adam’s apartment. My face is flushed, so I crank the air conditioning, fanning it toward my face with my hands, trying to get a grip, otherwise Adam’s going to think I’m a total whack job. I don’t know why I let Ellis affect me the way I do, but for some reason, his words still strike hard. I’ve always just wanted him to want me. Want me for who I am. That’s never going to happen. I’m seeking something that will never be there. Embarrassed and feeling worthless, a bad combination. I gather what small amount of dignity I have and plaster a smile on my face. Something I told myself I would never do.
I recall a conversation I once had with my mother shortly after my dad died. I was just a kid and I know she was hurting, but her words stuck with me. She put on a brave face every day, acted as if nothing had changed, but it had all changed. Every morning as I’d leave for school, she’d smile and hand me my lunch. The smile remained until I rounded the corner at the end of the street. I didn’t know for sure, but I figured it disappeared the instant I did. My suspicions were confirmed when I woke up early one morning to find her sobbing in the kitchen over her coffee. I was only ten, but the world and all its cynical, pessimistic awfulness, had hardened me. I wasn’t frightened by her behavior; I hated her for what she chose to do to get by. I hated the tears, the fake smile, but most of all, I hated what her fake smile did to me. It gave me a false sense of hope. A promise that life would get easier, better even. She turned to me, wiping the tears from her eyes with her fingertips. “So,” she said, inhaling hard and releasing a breath equally as ragged. “Scary what a smile can hide.” She slid her palms down the front of her skirt, kissed my forehead and left the room. Those simple words corrected everything that was wrong in my world and I made a promise to myself to be real and never, ever use a smile to hide my pain.
But here I am, faking it, hiding my pain and doing it to impress someone I hardly know. I think this is how I fucked up in the first place. I landed myself in a relationship where the other person never knew the real me and in the end, it all comes back to haunt you.
I cram my phone into my purse, like that will somehow erase Ellis’ patronizing message from my brain. I take a deep breath and shake my head. I’m done pretending shit’s fine. If there’s anything at all between Adam and me, then he gets the real me, the one who’s a hot mess, a crier, a laugher, a drinker, a swearer, all of it.
I pull a compact from my purse because even though I’m tired of hiding, I still don’t want to look like a train wreck. I quickly add a little powder to my red-tipped nose and swipe under my eyes, removing any signs of crusty mascara. I sigh deeply, knowing that Ellis’ voicemail isn’t the only reason I’m feeling defeated. Dinner at my m
om’s wasn’t all that drama-free and I can’t seem to shake the guilty feeling that has lingered since my breakup with Ellis.
Adam comes out just as I’m finishing my half-assed clean up and without even thinking, my lips pull into a smile. But this time it’s real. Just seeing him causes my body to warm and the smile is a natural reaction to the one he has on his face. I quickly smooth my top and lick my lips as I feel a strange calm wash over me. And when he opens the car door, a breeze rushes through the car filling it with an amazing smell. It makes me think of pine trees and sun and cinnamon, a clean smell that also has me thinking of sex—sex with Adam.
His dark blonde hair is tousled in the best possible way, making him even more attractive than he already is. When he climbs in and leans over to kiss my cheek, my whole body clenches, including my thighs. What the fuck is wrong with me? My body is behaving like I’m a sixteen-year-old girl and when I giggle; it only makes my revelation more accurate.
I place my shaking hand on the gearshift and pray that he doesn’t notice that he’s having this effect on me. Although I’m quite sure the blush that has formed on my cheeks is giving me away.
“Where to?” I ask, but again my damn body betrays me and it comes out all quivering and breathy.
“Your choice, sweets,” Adam responds as I make eye contact with him. He winks at me and I want to scream out loud. I feel my lips part slightly and my eyes widen. Fuck me…I want him. Without responding I put the car in gear and pull away from the curb, hitting the gas a little too hard.
“So, any thoughts?” he says when I don’t respond.
I say the first thing that comes to mind, knowing it’s close to his apartment from what I remember. “How about Pinkberry?”
Adam’s answer is abrupt and clipped, so much that it makes me jerk my head to look at him. “No!” he practically shouts. “I can’t go there,” he says, settling down a little.
“Why not?” I ask, wrinkling my nose at him. “What’s wrong with Pinkberry?”
“I’m boycotting them,” he says like this is totally normal. I narrow my eyes at him waiting for a better explanation, but he just shrugs his shoulders.
“What do you mean ‘you’re boycotting them’? I don’t get it.”
“I mean that I don’t eat there. They fucked up my order one too many times and I’m using my powers as a consumer to singlehandedly bring them down. And now because you are with me, you’re boycotting them by proxy.” He’s lucky he’s so damn cute or this rationale would come across as crazy.
“Fine. Whatever,” I respond, my tone playful. “Where are we going then?”
“You got some time?” he asks as he reaches over and tucks a few loose pieces of hair behind my ear. My skin begins to buzz, almost like when you stick a knife in the toaster. I feel it run from my cheek all the way to my toes. I’m holding my breath when he gives me directions. “Head to Michigan and Fourteenth Street.” I nod unable to form a sentence that might actually be coherent.
When I finally find my words, I ask a question that not only makes me blush, but makes me embarrassed by my need to know something I already know the answer to. “Why’d you do that?” I question.
“Do what?”
“Move my hair.”
He smiles at me and it’s striking. He’s so attractive and for some reason he wants to be here—with me. His blue-gray eyes and his imperfect smile make me want to stare at him. I could look at him for days and never tire. And what he says next makes my heart stop. “I want to see your face, Leah.” It’s the way he says my name at the end that makes my stomach tighten and my breath catch in my throat. “When was the last time someone told you that you’re beautiful?” He pauses waiting for my response and when I don’t answer, when I don’t look at him, he places his finger under my chin and directs my face toward his. “Leah, you’re one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.” I can’t look him in the eye. Compliments make me uncomfortable and the last thing I want is to come across as awkward, but I think I’ve failed at that already. This might be another one of those perfect times to tell him about Ellis, but in this case it would be me bitching about Ellis. About how he didn’t say those kinds of things to me and how he never made me feel like Adam does or even when it all fell apart he didn’t even try to fix it. Instead, I smile softly and try to hide the sadness that has begun to overshadow this moment. No one wants to be that girl who complains about her ex on a date.
We arrive at the restaurant and the valet approaches the car with that look of disgust in his eyes. It’s a common one, especially when I visit a high-end restaurant in the city driving my car. As I step out, I watch him glance at me and back at my car. He’s cute, young, but cute and my natural flirtatious behavior kicks in.
“I hope you can drive stick,” I say leaning in close and putting my hand on his wrist. He pauses for a second before stumbling over to my car and climbing in. I can’t help but giggle. Boys are so easy.
I meet Adam on the other side of the car and link my arm through his as we make our way to the door. He chuckles a bit and kisses the top of my head.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were flirting with that valet.” I look up at him through my lashes and smile coyly. I love how tall he is and how he’s the perfect height to rest my head against his arm, which is exactly what I do. I lean into him and giggle. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, but it doesn’t matter if you flirt with every guy in this place, you’re here with me,” Adam says.
I squeeze his arm a little tighter, my fingers sliding along the well-defined muscles in his bicep and I can’t help but play back, “You’re lucky you’re so cute. You just might get to leave with me too.”
“I’m about to win you over, sweets,” he says in a voice that makes me want to turn on my heel and drag him back to the car. I hate pet names, but when it’s coming out of his mouth, out of his beautiful kissable mouth, he can call me whatever he wants.
Adam opens the door for me and places his hand on the small of my back as if he’s guiding me into the restaurant, making me feel secure and safe with something as simple as his hand.
The place is packed, but within seconds of Adam approaching the hostess stand, we are seated next to the window looking out onto Michigan Avenue. I can’t remember the last time I was this happy, this sated, this intrigued by someone that I never want this night to end.
“So tell me, how’d you manage to score a table so quickly? This place is a fu…” I stop myself before I get the entire word out, “…this place is really busy.” I don’t know why I just censored myself, but I do and the thought makes me irate. I’m still complying with Ellis’ rules even when he’s not around.
“I told the hostess to meet me in the bathroom in ten minutes and I told her you’d join us if she got us a table by the window.” He winks and slides his fingers across to entwine with mine.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you? Witty even, huh?” He tightens his grip on my hand and my body responds by shivering.
“Always,” he says, winking. “But honestly, I did some graphic design work for the owner. Kept in touch and now he’s a good friend.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Sorry, kinda lame, right? But, I’d be happy to meet you in the bathroom in ten if you like.”
I lick my lips and bite down on the bottom one, hard to keep myself from taking it too far. But when my eyes meet Adam’s I can tell that just licking my lips has an effect on him that makes me want to take him up on his offer.
He leans in closer and in a low voice that screams sex, he says, “You lick your lips again like that and you won’t have much say in what goes down after.”
I deliberately run my tongue along my bottom lip and pull my lip through my teeth. Adam’s eyes grow wide and his mouth opens slightly and I swear I hear a small moan escape. “I’m a fucking tease,” I say slowly and I watch Adam nearly come undone at my words.
“It’s a big fucking turn-on when you swear,” he murmurs and I move closer, pressing my b
ody against the edge of the table.
“Fuck. Me.”
“I hope that’s a request,” he says, but this time his tone is deep and sexy as fuck. I know there’s not a chance in hell that this evening is going to end with me still wearing my pants.
Before I can respond, the waiter arrives at the table pulling both of us from our overtly sexual conversation. I don’t know whether to thank him or tell him to get lost. “Good evening, folks,” the waiter says, greeting us with a smile, oblivious to what he has just interrupted. “Can I get you something to drink?”
I squirm in my chair, squeezing my thighs together in an attempt to extinguish the fire that is burning between my legs. I notice Adam shift uncomfortably as his hand disappears beneath the tablecloth and when our eyes meet, he grins wickedly.
I speak far too fast as I spit out my order. “I’ll have a glass of ice water and a martini, dirty. Extra dirty.”
The waiter turns to Adam and by now Adam seems totally composed, not at all the disheveled sex maniac that I’ve become. “We’ll have the bread pudding and the chocolate mousse. And I’ll have a scotch and 7-Up.”
The waiter leaves the table as swiftly as he arrived, leaving Adam and me to decide where the conversation should lead.
“So Leah, tell me more about your job,” Adam says, smirking. This is the direction he’s taking the conversation? I can barely think straight, let alone have a conversation about my job that isn’t going to come out all ridiculously stupid.
“Well, I uh, I work here in the city on Wacker.” My perverted mind can’t even say Wacker without thinking of sex. I breathe in slowly before starting again. “I work in advertising.” But I stumble over my words again. “You know, um, we advertise shit.” Did I really just say that? What the fuck is wrong with me? Adams throws his head back and laughs.
