Still, my mother invited Maria and her parents over for coffee and cake. She even found it in her heart to invite Shawn, who she still didn’t like, even though he never dared pick me up on his motorcycle again. I think just the idea that he owned a motorcycle convinced Mom he was a thug.
I cringed when I thought of the planned festivities. Maria hadn’t met Shawn yet. An encounter I hoped to put off indefinitely. It’s not like I gave a rats tail about what kind of impression he made on her. It’s not like I wanted her involved in anything I did anymore. She must have sensed it too or else she would’ve made it her business to come by while he was over and introduce herself.
Maria opened the front door and walked in, as if nothing at all had changed.
“So I finally get to meet this mystery man,” she said, her voice sounding uncertain, as she nudged me with her shoulder.
“I guess,” I answered flatly.
My mother overheard the exchange and gave me a cold, hard look. She forced a smile, before getting rid of my friend. “Maria, can you run next door and remind your mother to bring the cake dish she borrowed?” she asked.
I knew she wanted to rip into me, I could see it in her dark stare. I sat on the couch, with my head back and eyes closed, waiting for her to let loose.
“I know it’s your birthday and I’m sorry to discuss this now but I’m not about to stand by and watch you continue to alienate her.”
Mom paused. I knew it wasn’t for me to respond. This wasn’t a discussion. She was in lecture mode. I took a deep breath, rolled my eyes and then she continued.
“I don’t know what happened since you refuse to talk to me, but I know this has to do with Jordan.”
Immediately I felt my heart pump harder. I couldn’t understand why she wanted to blame him for everything: the fact I wasn’t the most popular girl in school, the tension between Maria and me . . . I waited for her to name him as the culprit behind global warming. What did surprise me was how quick I jumped to his defense.
“No. It has to do with her attitude,” I snapped.
“What attitude? She’s been your best friend for sixteen years. Sure you argue and fight but you’re practically sisters. Now whatever is bothering you, talk to her. Get it out in the open.”
“Why? What’s the point?” What was so bad about cutting her off now rather than in a few weeks time when I would be at college?
“The point is you can’t work things out if you don’t discuss them. And I’m tired of you treating everyone like garbage because you’re hurt. We’re here to support you, not to be your whipping posts.” Mom turned on her heel and went upstairs leaving me alone to think about what she’d said.
My hands were balled up into fists. Anger flooded my judgment. It’s true Maria and I had been friends most of our lives and shared just about everything with each other. She stabbed me in the back and showed more loyalty to Jordan than me. She involved herself, stealing my role as his friend and confident. As reason began to inch back into my mind, I realized he needed her, as much as I hated to admit it. He needed an impartial friend, and all she wanted to do was help him.
No different than me.
The front door opened. Maria led her parents in. They wished me a happy birthday while showering me with hugs and kisses. Maria stood off to the side, looking sullen. I couldn’t approach her right away. Anything I said would have sounded mean and nasty. I bought myself an extra few minutes bringing the cake dish into the kitchen and setting the cake up on it. Once I returned to the room, I walked directly over to Maria and embraced her.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “I haven’t been myself these last few weeks. An alien seems to have taken over my body forcing me to act against my will.”
She smiled hesitantly. I returned the gesture. “I mean it.”
“No prob,” she said as if really were nothing.
The tension broke and I felt like I’d just taken off a vest made of bricks.
I hadn’t noticed my mother return to the living room until I felt her hand on my shoulder, giving me her seal of approval. I knew I owed her an apology too but I decided to wait until we were alone.
“Hey, why don’t you give Rob a call, see if he wants to come,” I suggested.
Maria liked the idea and quickly made the call.
“I can’t believe you’ve been dating Shawn for two weeks and I don’t know a thing about him,” she said when she hung up the phone.
Before I could answer, the obnoxious roar of a motorcycle engine grew closer, drawing a dirty look from my mother. In less than a minute, the loud noise fell silent. It could only mean one thing; Shawn had arrived.
“Speak of the devil,” my mother said with a sarcastic grin, probably thinking to herself he was the devil.
“He has a motorcycle,” I said to Maria.
I tried to keep my ears focused on the conversation at the table while I got up to answer the door. I overheard Maria ask her parents if she could go for a ride with Shawn. Mom thought this was an invitation to complain.
“He has some nerve riding that damn thing here knowing how I feel about it,” I heard in a very loud whisper.
Luckily, Mom remembered her manners and was cordial once he entered our home. I felt sorry for him. From the moment he arrived he was bombarded with questions from Maria and her parents. At times our parents respectively forgot they only had one child and looked out for the other as if she were their own.
“So how old are you?” Maria asked, trying to be her personable self and keep the atmosphere light.
I shot her a dirty look and she knew we were skidding on thin ice.
“Not that it matters,” she babbled quickly, catching on, “after all, age is just a number, right Stephanie?”
“Exactly,” I nodded.
Unfortunately, Shawn didn’t pick up on our attempt of steering clear of disclosing his age.
“Twenty-four,” he answered.
I made sure I didn’t look in my mother’s direction. I never told her exactly how much older than me he was. I’m certain I heard a gasp when he answered. I imagine she clutched her chest as well, positive she was about to have a massive heart attack.
It was clear once Shawn’s age had been revealed, the parent brigade disapproved. Silence filled the room. A pin could’ve dropped three doors down, and we would’ve heard it. And the looks. I took careful notice that no one looked directly at Shawn. Instead the parents each exchanged looks with each other, or else the eyes fell to the dishes in front of them.
Only Maria carried on like nothing unusual happened. “So Rob and I are going to the beach Monday, would you guys like to come?” she asked Shawn.
After we all sang ‘Happy Birthday,’ Mom sliced the cake and I handed it out. Shawn waited until a hush come upon the group to present me with my birthday gift. I didn’t expect much. We hadn’t been dating long. When he handed me the small Tiffany-blue rectangular box I was taken aback.
I removed the top to find a gold linked Tiffany bracelet lying on white cotton. I couldn’t think of anything to say except, “Wow.”
Maria looked in Rob’s direction, the back of her hand hit his chest, “Are you taking notes?” she asked. “I want one.”
Rob sighed, “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ve only been telling me for the last four months.”
The doorbell rang. Not expecting anyone else, Mom and I exchanged uncertain glances.
“I’ll get it,” I said.
My heart skipped a beat as I opened the door. At first I couldn’t move; I’d frozen in place. Jordan stood in front of me. I took a deep breath, feeling like I hadn’t had oxygen in weeks. I felt my eyes shine looking at him.
We hadn’t seen or spoken to each other since our argument. Emptiness invaded my chest and while I didn’t feel bare, I felt pain. Going without him had been grueling. I constantly fought the urge to pick up the phone and get a fix, like a drug addict.
“Surprise,” he smiled.
“This really is a surprise,” I a
nswered happily, holding back from throwing my arms around his neck.
“I know today’s a special day, and I wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”
“Thank you.” For a moment an awkward silence hung between us. “Would you like to come in, we’re just finishing off coffee and cake, but there’s plenty left over.”
“No. I just wanted to drop this off.”
He held up a large shiny silver gift bag. I’d been so preoccupied staring at him, I didn’t notice it. I accepted the bag, and sat down on the top porch step, poised to look inside.
“At least sit with me for a minute,” I patted the empty spot on the cement next to me.
“I don’t want to bother you.” He hesitated before joining me.
I noticed him fidgeting with his hands, picking at his fingernails, a nervous mannerism he recently picked up.
I smiled, “You’re never a bother. Really. I’m glad to see you.”
“Me too,” he answered uncomfortably.
I thought for a moment of confessing how much I missed him. How I missed talking to him at night, but immediately pushed the thought from my mind. It served no purpose. If nothing else, he knew how I felt about him.
I hated that things were so weird. They weren’t supposed to be. According to the law, we were adults, yet we were barely mature enough to have a normal conversation.
I looked inside the bag. Art supplies. Paper, pencils, charcoal, paints and brushes. One of the most thoughtful gifts I’d ever gotten.
“What is this?” I asked.
“My way of encouraging you to keep drawing. You have a lot of talent.”
“It’s a silly hobby.”
“There’s nothing silly about it. The paint and brushes are in case you want to challenge yourself to try something new.”
“Thank you.” Our eyes locked, my heart raced. I smiled at him. The same old butterflies fluttered wildly in my belly.
“Don’t thank me. It’s not much.”
Wanting desperately to keep him by my side, I searched for something to say.
“How are things going?” I asked.
“Better.” His eyes darted down to the ground. “Things are starting to feel somewhat normal again.”
“That’s terrific.”
“Yeah.” Jordan’s gaze fell upon my wrist and the new piece of jewelry donned on it. “Nice,” he said as he reached out, displaying it on his index finger for further inspection.
“Thank you.”
“Birthday present?” Was he asking or accusing me?
“Yep.”
“New guy?”
This didn’t feel right. “You really want to know?”
“C’mon, it’s not like I don’t care,” he stopped, turned away and noticed for the first time the motorcycle sitting in the driveway. “So um . . . I guess that’s his motorcycle?”
I nodded.
“Why the hell would you date a guy who rides a motorcycle?” Anger flashed in his eyes. “Do you know how dangerous those things are?”
“Jordan,” I rolled my eyes.
He continued spewing out hot air, “I bet he’s covered in piercings and tattoos.”
“Not piercings, but yes, he has two tattoos.”
He shook his head in what, disgust? Disappointment? “How old is he? Twenty-two? Twenty-three?”
“Twenty-four.”
I thought his eyes along with the rest of his head were going to explode like an overblown balloon, “Are you crazy! He’s older than me!”
“You apparently are the only one hung up on age,” I responded angrily.
“Does your mother know?”
I tried not to laugh but he sounded like a little boy ready to tattle.
“Are you going to tell on me?”
“Does she?” he demanded.
“Yes,” I didn’t disclose she’d only found out moments ago.
“And she’s okay with this?” he asked in disbelief.
“She hasn’t banned me from seeing him if that’s what you’re getting at.” At least not yet.
“This is all a big joke to you.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic.”
“Melodramatic!” He took a deep breath, and stood. “Happy birthday,” he said as he descended the steps.
I knew he was upset, angry even, and I liked it. I felt a deep satisfaction but I didn’t want him to leave.
“Jordan, wait . . . ” I called after him, certain he heard me, but he never turned back.
I stood and watched him wondering about his thoughts and feelings. I hated that I cared. As he walked away, I felt like he took a part of me with him. My heart sunk into my stomach, leaving me aching in the core of my being.
I felt Shawn’s presence behind me. I turned and found him standing on the other side of the screen door.
“Everything okay?”
“Fine,” I answered.
Thirty-Three
I couldn’t wait to be alone. I’d been toying with the idea of calling Jordan to make sure he was okay. I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling I had since he left. I just needed to be by myself so I could figure out what to do.
Getting rid of Shawn turned out to be a challenge. I yawned. I stretched.
“Wow, I’m beat,” I said rinsing the last dish off and making no attempt to move. I remained at the kitchen sink with my eyes closed, smiling.
“Tired?” he pulled my hair away from my neck as his lips brushed softly against my skin. “I bet I can find a way to wake you up,” he whispered.
“Shawn,” I urged in a hushed tone, “my mother’s in the next room.”
“What?” He played dumb. “I’m not allowed to kiss you?”
“Come on,” I pushed him away as I squeezed my way between him and the kitchen counter. “You know what I mean. Besides, I didn’t sleep well last night. I just want to go to bed.” I yawned again, to emphasize my words.
He wasn’t buying it.
Shawn sensed the tension between us immediately after Jordan’s departure.
“You’ve been acting weird ever since your friend showed up,” he accused.
“You’re crazy.”
He looked away, annoyed.
I didn’t care at the moment how Shawn felt. I only cared about getting rid of him. I was distracted and didn’t feel like putting on an act or dealing with his territorial nonsense.
“If he’s just a friend, why didn’t he come inside?”
“Because he had better things to do, I don’t know,” I let out a long frustrated breath.
He shook his head. “There’s more to it.”
“Okay fine, you want to know what his problem is, I’ll tell you.” I explained Jordan’s recent trauma and how lost he seemed since, leaving out all the details about our personal drama.
Still Shawn didn’t believe me. He knew there was more going on and he wouldn’t let it go.
“You’re seeing him, aren’t you?”
“No.” Much to my displeasure. “Not at all.”
“Is he an ex-boyfriend? Was he trying to get back with you?”
“We never dated.” I tried to ease his concern, “and even if we did, what’s the big deal?”
He shook his leg impatiently, “You’re right. No big deal.”
“Good, then let me get a good night’s sleep and I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
I walked him to the door. Before he let me grasp the knob Shawn turned me around and backed me against the door. His arms were on either side of my shoulders. He looked at me with a devilish smile.
“You’re so beautiful,” he kissed my lips and followed a path down my neck. He leaned his body against mine.
Every muscle in my body tensed. I felt adrenaline pumping through me. Warning bells rang. I needed to stop this before it got out of hand.
“Hey.” I put my hands up on his chest. “Good night, Shawn.”
He didn’t argue. He backed up and allowed me to open the f
ront door. I stepped outside and gave him a quick goodnight kiss. I’d never been so thrilled to see him put his helmet over his head. I felt myself start to relax as he hopped on his bike, revved the engine, and took off.
“Let me ask you a question,” I turned toward Maria’s house in reaction to the voice, a boulder forming in the pit of my stomach.
“But really, don’t you think you’re a wee bit too young for him?” Jordan held up his hand pinching his thumb and forefinger together as he approached the wrought iron banister separating our houses.
“Excuse me?” I couldn’t believe the nerve! The gall!
“Jordan, stop,” Maria warned.
“What could you possibly have in common? I’m intrigued, what do you talk about?” Alcohol seeped from his pores.
“Stop it!” Maria yelled.
“Stop what? I’m simply asking a question.” he answered, never taking his eyes off me. After a few moments of silence he continued his barrage, “You seriously think he gives a shit about you?”
Seeing her words were ineffectual, Maria came over and placed a hand on his good shoulder, trying, with no success, to get him to back off.
“He’ll dump you the minute he gets you in bed.”
Fury flooded my judgment. I wanted to tear him apart, but I’d neither the strength nor the razor sharp wit to attack with.
“Because he couldn’t possibly spend one moment with me that’s not focused on getting into my pants?!?”
“Now who’s being melodramatic?”
“You’re an asshole!”
“You’re both going to regret this,” Maria warned.
“I’m an asshole?” He looked surprised, shocked, that I could say such a thing to him. “Let’s see, how many years has it been?”
“What?” I had no idea what he was getting at.
He started counting on his fingers, “Four? Oh that’s right, you’ve wanted me for four years. So if I’m an asshole, what does that make you?”
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