Clean Slate

by Heidi Champa

  “Night, Miss Thing,” I whispered.

  “Night, U Dub.”

  She hugged me tight, and I rested my chin on the top of her head. Without another word, she shuffled up the stairs. Before I went downstairs, I went to the bathroom. I took the baggie out of my pocket and dropped the joint into the toilet. As it swirled down the drain, I sighed. Kelsey was right. I did pick a lousy time to start acting grown up.

  CHAPTER 15

  I’D JUST finished breakfast when there was a knock at the door. Tina was expecting the plumber, so I opened it without thinking. Sam stood on the porch, his face filled with dread. I wanted to slam the door in his face, like he’d done to me, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.

  “Hi.”

  He met my eyes for a second, before looking away again.

  “Hi. Can I come in?” he asked, his voice wary.

  I moved out of the way without a word, and he walked into the house. Pushing the door closed, I tried to compose myself. My sadness returned in a flash, the night in front of his house coming back with stunning clarity. I tried to keep the anger out of my voice, but I didn’t succeed.

  “What are you doing here, Sam?”

  He seemed surprised by my terse tone, but I didn’t regret it. It felt good to dish it out for a change, instead of being the one who always had to take it.

  “Um, I wanted to talk to you,” he said timidly.

  I went to the kitchen and got myself a juice. As much as I wanted to leave him hanging, I offered him a drink as well. Which he refused.

  “What did you want to talk about, Sam? Pretty sure we covered it all the other night, didn’t we?”

  He looked down at my mention of our last conversation. Slumping into one of the chairs around the dining room table, he sighed.

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  I stood across the room, my hands clasped around the cool glass. My defenses were up, and I swore to myself that nothing he could say would get through them. Not this time.

  “Seems to be a lot of that going around.”

  “I’m serious, Wes.”

  I drank my OJ and ignored the way that looking at him still made me feel. I kept replaying his words in my head to keep myself strong.

  “Knowing the truth about the pot doesn’t change the other things you said. The things you really think about me. Does it?”

  He looked away from me and drummed his fingers on the table.

  “I was angry and I said some things I didn’t mean.”

  I nodded, enjoying his play of the oldest excuse in the book. He seemed flustered, his face getting red.

  “Will you please sit down, Wes?”

  I didn’t move for a long moment, until finally, I pulled a chair out and sat. He looked at me from across the table and gave a weak smile.

  “You have to know, I was beside myself about Maya and what she’d done. I wasn’t thinking straight. There’s more to it than you know. But that’s no excuse. I… well, I never should have said those things to you.”

  I looked at him as impassively as I could, shaking my head at his assertion.

  “You seemed pretty calm to me. In fact, you seemed to know exactly what you were doing and saying. It sounded to me like you’d thought a lot about it. You didn’t struggle to find the right words or anything.”

  I set my glass on the table and looked at Sam. He looked away first, his eyes everywhere but mine for a long time.

  “You’re not making this easy, Wes.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from chuckling, but there was no joy in it.

  “Yeah, I know that’s what you’re used to with me, but not this time. You really didn’t expect me to tell you that everything’s cool and that I forgive you, did you?”

  “No, I guess not. I guess I was hoping you’d give me another chance. A chance to make it up to you, to prove to you that I’m sorry. To explain why I reacted the way I did.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but there doesn’t seem to be much point in talking about it, does there?” I asked, hoping to put a stop to the conversation for good.

  We sat in silence for a long time before he spoke again.

  “I don’t know what else to say, Wes….”

  I thought of letting it all go, but I couldn’t. Something wouldn’t let me. I couldn’t let him off the hook and make him feel better by saying just the right thing this time.

  “You know, you said that when you first met me, you could tell I was a guy who would never grow up.”

  “I know. I was wrong about that,” he said, wringing his hands.

  I took a deep breath and started to speak before I could think better of it. If I was going to be gone soon, I wanted it all out on the table.

  “No, you weren’t. I am that guy. I’ve made sure of it, done everything in my power to keep it that way. And honestly, I never wanted to be more… until I met you.”

  “Wes, I….”

  It would have been so easy to stop there, but I kept going.

  “But despite all evidence to the contrary, there is a reason I am this way.”

  His eyebrows rose before the words came out of his mouth.

  “Really? Why?”

  I took a deep breath and decided to go for it. There was nothing to lose at this point. Telling the truth wouldn’t change anything, but at least it would be out there. At least he would know. I felt like I owed him that much. It was more than anyone else ever got. Even with everything he’d said and done, part of me trusted Sam. And part of me just wanted it out in the open.

  “That day at your house, I told you my sister died. But that’s not the whole story.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sam… my sister’s death was my fault. Well, sort of.”

  His eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open.

  “How was it your fault, Wes?”

  I swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

  “I was driving the car when we got into the accident that killed her. Drunk driver ran a red light. Smashed right into us. She died before we got to the hospital. There was nothing they could do.”

  The shock on his face made my stomach lurch, although I wasn’t surprised by his reaction. I’d grown used to seeing the expression over the years whenever I told anyone the truth. He shook his head and then looked down.

  “That doesn’t mean it was your fault, Wes. It was an accident. Like you said.”

  “I know that it wasn’t really my fault. I’ve come to terms with it, and I’m okay. Mostly, anyway.”

  The sympathy in his eyes should have made me feel better, but it didn’t. This time, I averted my eyes and went on.

  “I’d come out a few months before the accident, which didn’t go over well with my parents. Michelle was my savior; she and Daniel were the ones who really accepted me, who I could talk to when my parents were looking right through me, but pretending to be fine with it all.”

  Sam looked overwhelmed, but I hadn’t even really gotten started. I thought of quitting while I was ahead but kept going instead.

  “Anyway, things were tough for a long time. It took me almost a year of therapy after the accident to start to feel normal again. Then a few years more to get my head around the idea that it was normal to be happy, that being thankful to be alive wasn’t a betrayal of her memory.”

  It was stuff I never thought I’d say out loud, outside of a therapist’s office. But I needed him to know. I wanted him to know.

  “But when things started to get back to how they were before the accident, my parents’ marriage started to fall apart. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why. All the problems I’d caused, all the stress—they just couldn’t take it. They never came right out and said it, but I know they blamed me, especially my mom.”

  I swallowed the rest of my juice before setting the glass aside. I was almost done, just a bit more baggage to unload.

  “After the divorce, my dad moved out and remarried almost rig
ht away. My mom barely spoke to me. It hurt like hell, but it did offer a few perks. I realized I could get away with almost anything because my mom didn’t seem to care. I did everything in my power to get her to notice me, pushed things as far as I could just to get a rise out of her. But it never worked. So after a while, it became less and less about trying to get her attention, and I started to take advantage of the situation instead.”

  I could hear the clock ticking in the living room, the refrigerator humming in the next room. The whole house was quiet as what I’d just said still hung in the air.

  “Take advantage how?”

  I sighed, trying to think of the best way to explain. There was no way to sugarcoat things, so I didn’t.

  “After I knew that it didn’t matter anymore, that there were no real consequences, I just did whatever I wanted. Things I knew were fucked-up and ridiculous, but with no one to stop me, there didn’t seem to be much point in holding back. It worked pretty well for a while, until one night, I found myself at the police station. Some friends and I had broken into a house, just to see if we could get away with it. We didn’t notice the alarm sign out front. It was Daniel who came to get me that night, not my mom. In fact, it was Daniel who finally called me on it all—all my bullshit and my games. He cared enough to try and make me stop. Which I did. Eventually.”

  “Wes, I—”

  I cut him off, unable to let him try and comfort me.

  “But I kept my bad habits up with the guys I dated. Most guys didn’t put up with my shit for very long. But the ones who thought they cared, the ones who thought they could fix me, well, they tried a lot harder to be understanding. It’s why I basically abandoned Nick without an explanation. I push away everyone who tries to get close to me. And it works every time. It’s easier than the thought of letting someone get close and having them do it to me.”

  Sam looked like he wanted to speak, but he didn’t. So I kept going.

  “Sam, when you told me you liked me, that you wanted to see where we could go, even though it scared me to death, I was over the moon. I thought I could do it this time. That I could be with you and not fuck it up, that I could give us a real shot. But it’s kind of a relief, you know? It’s better this way.”

  He ran a hand over the back of his neck and sighed.

  “Wes, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to be with you and that I’m crazy about you. That’s what I came here to say. That night, out in front of my house, those things I said, that wasn’t me. You have to believe me, Wes.”

  I shook my head, trying to choke back the words I wanted to scream at him.

  “No, you were right that night. I’m all wrong for you. You were ignoring your instincts. Liking me in spite of your better judgment.”

  He sighed and looked at the ceiling.

  “I was upset. Maya is my whole life. Please, let me explain. I was….”

  I put my hand up and he stopped.

  “Sam, it doesn’t matter. It would have never worked anyway. Somewhere along the line, I would have done something to push you away. Something stupid and juvenile. It was only a matter of time before I blew it all up. Like I always do. I obviously haven’t changed as much as I’d like to believe. This whole joint thing just saved us both a bunch of time and trouble. Trust me.”

  Sam got up and took a step toward me, but I moved away.

  “It doesn’t have to be that way, Wes.”

  “It doesn’t have to, but it is. And it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m leaving, and you can get on with your normal life.”

  “What if I can’t do that?” he asked, his hand closing around my wrist, pulling me close.

  I met his eyes, really looking at him for the first time since he arrived.

  “You can. Trust me, it’s easy. Just ask my ex.”

  I wrenched myself free and headed to the door. Sam trailed after me and surprised me by shoving the door closed instead of walking through it.

  “Wes, please….”

  “How does that sentence end, Sam?”

  He backed away a few steps, his face a jumble of emotion.

  “I don’t know.”

  “YOU COULD wait another few weeks, you know. There’s no rush, Wes.”

  I looked up from my cereal and glared at Daniel. He was holding the paper but clearly wasn’t reading it.

  “Bit late to change your tune now, man.”

  He sighed, setting aside the sports section.

  “Maybe if you stick around for a while, you’ll finally come to your senses and realize you’re making a mistake. That you’re running away.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Daniel. I really appreciate it.”

  I stood up and dumped my bowl into the sink, tired of rehashing the same conversation over and over again.

  “It’s not about confidence. You think you’re doing the mature thing, but you’re not.”

  “I was told to leave, so I’m leaving. That’s not running away,” I said.

  “How many times do I have to apologize? I was wrong, we were wrong. I’ve told you a million times since then that you don’t have to go. So don’t go.”

  I turned around and faced him, too tired for another fight.

  “Dude, we’ve been over this. And over this. It’s better this way. A fresh start for everyone. I’ll visit and we can talk all the time. Hell, we barely saw each other when I lived twenty miles away. So what’s another three thousand or so?” I asked with a smile.

  “Joke if you want, but it doesn’t have to be this way. You could stay, start your own business. And Sam isn’t the only guy in town, you know.”

  I had to admire his persistence and his misguided attempts to get me back living in his basement.

  “I thought you’d be thrilled. There’s just no pleasing you people,” I said with a grin, which faded when Daniel shook his head.

  “Christ, I can’t believe you’re going to make me say this.”

  “Say what?”

  He stood up, clearing his throat as if he was going to give a presentation.

  “I want you to stay, you big pain in the ass. Don’t leave. Stay in my basement as long as you want. But don’t give up on yourself. Don’t let what happened in the past, what happened with Mom and Michelle, keep you from seeing the good in people and the good in the world.”

  He stepped closer to me, and before I could react, he pulled me into a hug.

  “Michelle would want you to be happy, man. She wouldn’t want you to only live half a life,” he said through sniffles.

  When he pulled away, Daniel wiped a stray tear from the corner of his eye. My eyes were blurry, but I refused to let my tears fall.

  “I know. And maybe someday I’ll be ready for what you and Tina have. But trust me, Sam isn’t it.” I said with a shrug.

  “You sure thought so a few weeks ago.”

  “Well, I was wrong. We both were, as it turns out.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and gave a weak grin.

  “Wes, you’re my brother and I love you, but sometimes you can be a real idiot.”

  I laughed in spite of myself, and it was more weary than joyful.

  “No argument here.”

  MY PHONE started to vibrate, dancing across the box I’d been using as a nightstand. Rolling over with a groan, I grabbed it before it made its way to the floor. The number flashing across the screen was one I didn’t recognize, but I broke my rule and answered it anyway.

  “Hello?”

  “Wes, sweetie. It’s Jocelyn. How are you?”

  I sat up slowly, rubbing my hand through my hair.

  “I’m fine. What can I do for you?”

  “Look, I know you’re leaving town soon, but I was hoping I could convince you to do a very important job for me.”

  No one had called for my services in weeks. In fact, Jocelyn’s call was the first time my phone had buzzed since Sam got the hint and stopped calling, which was a while ago.

  “What do you need me to do?”<
br />
  “Well, my husband’s closet could use a little of your magic. Would it be possible for you to give me a hand before you abandon us for sunny California?”

  I tried to think of an excuse to say no, but my brain was far too foggy to think of one. It would be nice to have a little more cash in my pocket before I left.

  “Sure, I could do that. When were you thinking?”

  “I know it’s short notice, but what about this afternoon?” she asked, her voice so sweet and perky, I smiled even though I felt like hell.

  “Okay. That works.”

  “Fantastic! Should we say around one?”

  “See you then, Jocelyn.”

  “Looking forward to it, sweetie.”

  With that, the line went dead, and I lay back down, pulling the covers up to my chin.

  I got to Jocelyn’s house a little before one, not exactly sure what to expect. I could only imagine what her husband’s closet looked like after spending the day in hers. I knocked on the solid mahogany door, then shoved my hands in my pockets and waited. When the door finally opened, all the air left my lungs. Instead of seeing Jocelyn, Sam stood in the doorway. I started backing away, my feet fumbling when I got to the step in her flagstone walkway.

  “Wait, Wes. Please don’t leave.”

  I stopped but didn’t move any closer to him.

  “What are you doing here, Sam? I’ve got work to do.”

  He smiled, throwing me completely off guard.

  “No, you don’t. You’re here to talk to me.”

  I shook my head, confusion at war with my anger.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, my temper threatening to flare.

  “Would you please come in? Just give me five minutes.”

  Everything in me told me to turn around and run, but I didn’t. Stepping slowly back to the porch, I walked inside the lavish house, still not entirely sure what I was getting myself into.

  “So there is no job.” It was more of a statement than a question, and Sam shook his head.

  “Nope. I called Jocelyn and asked for her help. She was so upset her last attempts to fix us up failed so spectacularly, she was only too happy to give me a hand.”