by Niecey Roy
It’s for a good cause. But the guilt and disgust rolling over him told him otherwise. He concentrated on giving her a kiss that he wasn’t willing to give and didn’t notice her hands on his pants. She kissed him deeply, running her tongue against his and pressing her breasts into his chest the way she’d done a hundred times during their relationship. He wanted to gag.
His zipper gave under her persistent fingers and she snaked her hand inside his pants before he could fathom her actions. Suddenly, his penis was in her hands, free of his boxers, and Craig jerked his head away in shock. “What the hell, get off me.” He grasped her shoulders to hold her away, but she continued to caress him, a desperate look in her eyes.
“Just one last time, Craig, and I’ll leave you alone,” Maggie pleaded. His traitorous body reacted, stiffening in her hands—he was only a man, after all. She smiled triumphantly and leaned in to press her lips against his, and whispered, “See, I knew you wanted me.”
“And he can have you.”
Craig’s eyes flew to the door, his heart racing in his chest as panic washed through him. His mind was still foggy as he met Rach’s glassy, green eyes. It’d happened so quickly and confusion and denial played inside his head. This isn’t happening.
“It’s not what you think, Rach.” But his plea sounded lame to his own ears. His heart pounded erratically as a fear he’d never known existed gripped his heart. Something closed over her face in finality and a distance appeared in her eyes, shutting him out. She looked down and he followed her gaze to where Maggie’s hand still grasped his penis. He’d grown limp.
“No, I’m sure it’s exactly what I think. Forget it, it’s no big deal. We weren’t anything serious anyway.” She turned and walked out, shutting the door quietly behind her. The Rach he’d fallen for would have slammed the door, called him some sort of lewd name, but the woman who’d walked out hadn’t cared enough to do any of those things.
He pushed Maggie away, shoving her hard as he should have when she’d stuck her hand in his pants, and she stumbled in her heels. What he really wanted to do was become a woman long enough to punch her evil lights out. By the satisfied smirk on her face she’d accomplished what she’d sought out to do.
He straightened his clothes and zipped his pants while hurrying after Rach. She wasn’t in the hall and when he rushed out into the foyer, the front door stood wide open. He stepped over the threshold and searched the vehicles that still lined the front of his house and his driveway, but he didn’t see her. A second later, Leah’s SUV drove past with Rach behind the wheel. She didn’t glance back, didn’t know he watched her drive away with his heart in his throat.
“Fuck!” He kicked over the flower pot his mom had given him. The magenta lilies he’d promised to transplant in the backyard spilled across his porch, dirt scattering everywhere.
He ran his fingers through his hair in a ragged, desperate gesture, cursing himself for being so stupid. What kind of idiot was he? He’d just wanted a name, that was all.
“Just a name,” he whispered to no one.
Rushing past him, Leah said, “You’re sick.”
He opened his mouth to defend himself, but she was already down the steps and hurrying toward the driveway where Rick’s car was parked.
“What the hell did you do?” Rick asked, rushing after Leah. But he didn’t stop to find out.
Craig leaned against the side of the house as Rick’s car raced past. He stood there, dazed and unbelieving. Just a name, he thought miserably.
He didn’t know how long he stood on the front porch in the dark, waiting for Rach to come back. If only she’d return to yell at him, slap him across the face. He deserved as much. Anything was better than the nothing he endured.
But she didn’t come back. Minutes passed and finally he stepped over the scattered dirt and flowers to go back inside. His eyes searched out Kathy standing at the kitchen bar near a tower of cookies. When their eyes met she walked to him. He drew her aside into the foyer.
“Can you get rid of these people? Especially Maggie, I want her out of this house.”
His hard tone set her face to stone and she straightened to gaze around the house, looking for the target. “What did that tramp do now?”
He was too tired to be angry, too mad at himself for being so stupid, to explain. “It’s not important now. What’s done is done. Just get her out. Please.”
He didn’t wait for her reply but turned on his heel and trudged upstairs. He collapsed on the bed, staring up at the ceiling in defeat. It had happened so fast.
Rach would come back, if only to scream at him. She had to. Then he’d explain it had all been a misunderstanding. He’d made a mistake, but he’d done it for them, for their future so that Maggie wouldn’t ever bother them again. If he could get her to listen for a minute, she’d understand. He’d whisk her away so they could be alone and he’d make this all up to her, prove himself to her.
He laid there with his eyes closed until long after the door below had shut for the last time. The excitement of his new home had worn off—without Rach to enjoy it with there was only silence.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
He’d called so many times in the last few days that she’d lost count. After the third day, she’d unplugged her home phone and shut her cell off. She didn’t care to hear his apologies, didn’t want to listen to his voice. He’d broken her heart and hearing his voice only made the pain worse.
On Sunday evening Rach sat in her living room, staring at her new favorite blank spot on the wall, just above the TV, when the doorbell rang, followed by three hard raps on the door. She considered ignoring it, as she’d been doing for the last few days, but then Leah yelled, “I’ll stand here all night knocking on this damn door if you don’t let me in!”
With a sigh, Rach stood, knowing Leah meant it. She opened the front door and Leah rushed over the threshold to throw her arms around Rach’s limp body, giving her a tight hug.
“I’m so sorry, Rach.” Leah pulled back and peered into her face. The concern in her eyes only made Rach want to cry. “You look awful.”
Rach chuckled and pulled away. “Thanks.”
“I mean it.” Leah followed her to the couch and sat down beside her. She took in Rach’s disheveled hair matted to one side of her head from sleeping on the couch. The other side of her hair was poofed out fro-style. “How long have you been wearing those…things?”
Rach looked down at the oversized sweat pants and off-white t-shirt. “Two days, maybe.”
After enduring Leah’s forlorn, sympathetic gaze through five minutes of silence, Rach said, “Quit looking at me like that.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just you haven’t been answering your phone and everyone is trying to get a hold of you. He’s even gone to talk to your parents.”
Rach snapped her head up. “He has no business talking to you or to anyone. Especially not my parents. Tell him to stay out of my life.”
“I think it’s horrible what he did.” Leah set a comforting hand on her knee.
The sympathy made Rach angry. She couldn’t stand it because it meant Rach had endured something to be sorry about. Despondently, she scrunched into the corner of the couch, as if distance could make her feel better. As if the couch could open up and swallow her whole and reality would go away and leave her be. It didn’t, though.
Leah scooted closer and rested her hand on Rach’s shoulder again. She curled her legs up and clutched her arms around them, resting her chin on one knee. Sniffling, she wondered why she’d left the tissues on the coffee table. The box, only a mere inch away from her fingertips, seemed too far. She gave it a longing stare.
Leah tried again. “I can’t imagine why he’d do such a thing.”
Rach smirked and she turned angry eyes on Leah. “Of course you can imagine why—Maggie’s beautiful. She fits into his perfect world of doctors and professionals and champagne parties. And I… Well, let’s just say I’m a freak. I doubt he wanted to deal with
someone who can’t find a job, can’t keep a job, can’t even afford to buy a new fucking car to get me to a fucking job. I know I wouldn’t.”
Leah gasped and leaned away, shaking her head. “That’s not true. You’re better than that ice bitch, even Rick says so.”
Rach screwed up her nose and quipped, “Oh yes, Rick. Let’s not forget about him. Anything he says has to be true because he’s perfect.”
Leah frowned and pulled her hand away, resting it in her lap. Rach sighed and hid her face against her knees. None of what happened had been Leah’s fault, but here she was, taking it out on her. Just another reason for Rach to detest Craig.
She kept telling herself she didn’t want to see him, not ever. Not even if they were the last two people on Earth together and it was between him and talking to a lizard. Yet it ate at her that he didn’t care enough to show himself in person and ask her forgiveness.
Choking back a sob, she looked up at Leah. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m not mad.” Leah gave her another hug and said into her hair, “You need to shower.”
Rach laughed through her tears. “I know. I promise I will.”
“You’re hurt and you have every right to be. Rick is going over to talk to him and find out what happened since the coward won’t tell you himself.”
She looked down at Tally who had curled up on the floor beside the couch. “He’s been calling all weekend.”
Leah whipped her head up. “He has? So what did he say?”
Rach gave a limp shrug. “Nothing, because I won’t answer the phone. I don’t want to hear his excuses. They don’t matter. What matters is that I’m done being an idiot. I should have stuck to my plan instead of giving it up to the first hot guy who came sniffing around. It’s sick.”
Leah’s eyes were orbs of pity and disbelief. “You’re wrong, Rach. Running away from this isn’t going to make you feel better. You should give him a chance to explain what happened because I think you saw what you wanted to see—an easy way out.”
Angry, she jerked her head to look at Leah. “What the hell do you mean by that? You think I made it all up? That’s ridiculous. I don’t need an easy way out, I care about him.”
Leah stood up, exasperation replacing sympathy. “You forget how well I know you, Rach. You don’t just care about him, you love him. And that scared the shit out of you. Listen to you, ‘Maggie the beautiful blonde, she’s perfect’. That’s all a bunch of bullshit. I have never known you to feel sorry for yourself, and honestly it’s a little pathetic right now. You’re being a coward and you’re afraid of failing at a relationship with him, afraid of not being perfect for him like you’ve always been at everything you’ve ever done, except in love and lately, in life. So you’re taking the easy way out and giving up on something you know makes you happy. It might be easier for you to take this route, but it’ll break your heart in the end and you’ll hate yourself. Just because you quit social work doesn’t mean you should do the same with Craig. That just makes you weak and I pity you for it.”
At the halfway point of Leah’s impassioned speech, Rach’s mouth had fallen open in shock. And when her best friend stormed to the door and yanked it open, Rach finally recovered in time to yell, “Not everyone believes your fairytale bullshit, Leah! You live in a dream world, grow up!”
But Leah was gone.
She looked down at Tally and whined. “I’m not a quitter. Everything else and everyone else quit on me.”
The statement sounded pitiful in the quiet of her apartment and she moaned. Even with all the doubt Rach had ever had about Craig, about the two of them together, period, she still hadn’t been prepared to find Maggie with her mouth on his. And her hand…
Rach shuddered. The leering, victorious smile on Maggie’s lips had been enough to stop Rach’s heart and she’d done the only thing she could think of—she ran. Cowardly, yes, but in her confused state of mind she hadn’t known what else to do. Waiting for an explanation had not been an option.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Rach checked the box for medical insurance and sat back with a pleased smiled. It was the last bit of paperwork needed for her new position at Rings-N-Things. After a morning of watching training and safety videos that didn’t seem relevant to someone applying for an office position, she was ready to get to work.
She wiggled her toes in her tennis shoes. This had to be the coolest job she’d ever had. Never before had she been told it was okay to wear jeans and a t-shirt in an office, but assumed she’d be hidden away behind a computer in a back room. Rach was fine with that. Hopefully, in this new position there wouldn’t be any fancy copy machine involved.
The entire building smelled of onions. She didn’t mind the smell, she loved onion rings. Maybe she’d get a discount on food product as an employee—that would be a great bonus.
Picking up all her paperwork, she stood from the table. She shut the lights off behind her and stepped out of the small break room to the reception area. There was a middle-aged man with thinning brown hair waiting for her. He wiped a hand over his perspiring brow then extended that same hand to shake hers. Rach hesitated briefly before taking his hand, not wanting to offend the guy who might be signing her paycheck at the end of the week. She’d sneak the hand sanitizer after he turned around.
“Hi, I’m Tim,” he greeted with a toothy, coffee stained smile. “I’m your supervisor.”
The man smelled like he’d just had an onion bath and Rach fought the urge to pinch her nose. Instead, she pasted on a smile that twitched.
“Great, can’t wait.” How he smelled so strongly of onions when Carrie, the receptionist, didn’t confounded Rach.
Rach followed behind him out of the office and down a different hallway than she’d been shown that morning. They passed a short man with shocks of springy gray hair who diverted his gaze away from Rach and Tim as they passed.
Tim chattered aimlessly about the weather, about his squeaky shoes and the Husker football lineup, and Rach hoped he wouldn’t be so talkative every day. Being stuck in an office with a chatterbox would get old fast.
She followed Tim into a room lined with grayish blue metal lockers that had seen better days, all numbered and padlocked. Tim waved toward the lockers. “This is where you’ll put your things. Number thirty-five is yours. You can put your name on it if you’d like. There’s paper, tape and markers on that table in the corner.”
Rach followed his finger to a low-standing table with scarred legs sitting against the back of the room against the wall. There was a black board above it with the words “HAPPY CHINESE PALACE DELIVERS” written across the top. She wondered why she couldn’t just keep her purse at her desk as it wasn’t that big. Did she really need to store it in a locker?
“Great,” Rach replied, deciding she’d bring up the matter of her purse after her second or third day with the company.
“And here’s your coat. Make sure you wear it at all times.” He handed her an oversized, gray smock that looked heavy and uncomfortable and smelled of onions. Inscribed on the corner above the pocket was “Rings-N-Things.” It reeked of onions. Before today, she never imagined she’d ever be sick of the smell, but it was already getting old. Hopefully she’d get used to it because right now she worried she might yak. Tim held out a pair of thick goggles.
“Goggles?” Rach took them hesitantly.
“Everyone wears them. It’s code. Make sure you do, too, or you’ll have a hell of a time with your eyes. We’re pretty strict about it,” he warned and Rach nodded, though she was positive the HR specialist hadn’t been wearing goggles earlier, nor could she remember a pair of goggles sitting on the woman’s desk.
Maybe the goggles were only necessary in the other sections of the plant. She was about to tell him that a tour of the factory wasn’t necessary, but Tim was already headed out the door and down the hall. She trotted to keep up and skidded to a stop just before running into him when he abruptly stopped in front of a set of larg
e, steel doors with the word “CAUTION” stenciled across in black letters. Tim opened the door and gestured for Rach to step inside.
The overpowering smell of raw onions almost dropped her to her knees. It hit her like a ton of bricks and for a scary moment she feared she might faint. What if she passed out? She gasped and sucked in a breath through her mouth, but coughed when the taste of onion rushed in. She didn’t know how it was possible for something to smell so strong that she could taste it.
Despite the goggles she wore, her eyes burned and she blinked rapidly against the sting. She blinked hard a few more times, hoping to squeeze a few tears out to flush her eyes. The liquid produced only made it worse. Damn. She hoped he would cut the tour short because she wasn’t sure her eyes would survive much longer. Her nose had begun to run.
The sound of conveyor machines whined around her and was almost as unbearable as the smell, taste and burn of the onions. Rach rubbed the back of her hand under her nose then wiped the wetness on the coat—she didn’t have any other option. It wasn’t as if Tim was making any move to hand her a tissue. He was already walking across the room and she almost tripped over him when he stopped to tug out a pair of latex gloves and a hairnet from dispenser boxes screwed into one of the large square columns running down the center of the room. He handed her the gloves and a hairnet and she rushed to put them on while he continued across the concrete floor.
There were a total of twenty machines whining throughout the room and standing in front of each of the long belts were five people who looked like they were separating onions that had been cut into rings as they passed on the belt. She’d spent four hours watching the process in the training room and was even less excited to watch it in person.
Now that she was witnessing it done in person, clearly anyone who could stand doing it for any length of time had to have eyes of glass. Her own had stopped watering so she pinched her arm and waited for the tears to come. They didn’t and she worried her tear ducts might have been permanently damaged by the tour.
