by Xavier Neal
“I know.”
“A year away from--”
“Mindy.” I cut her off, my eyes falling into hers, the fact that I don't need another reminder I'm a ghost in my girlfriend's life very apparent. “I. Know.”
She nods and touches her cheek now distraught. Silence fills in the kitchen and she turns her body away from mine, the possibility of tears in her eyes being the reason. When I joined the Marines, when I made this plan to be the very best and climb to the top, I never took anyone else into consideration. I was taking my family for granted. My friends. And that was before I had a love that I don't know how to live without. What the fuck am I supposed to do? Give it all up and choose a different dream? Because right now I don't think I can have it all.
“Do you have something to wear for tonight?” her change of subject is much appreciated.
“Jeans won't cut it?”
After pulling out a long dish she turns around and pops a hand on her hip. “Is that a joke?”
It wasn't. I shrug. “Is that a no?”
“Slugger, it's not only one of the nicest events in the city, state, but in the country. Those tickets are the kind you don't get unless you're in the right circles.”
“Guess I'm thankful you're in the right circles.”
She rolls her eyes. “Black tie affair.” Shock comes on my face. I figured it'd be nice, but not that nice. “I mean an actual suit. With an actual bow tie.”
“I don't own a suit.”
“Why don't you own a suit?”
“Why would I own a suit?”
She pauses before nodding to herself that's a fair question. The last time I wore an actual suit was mom's funeral. I figured the nice pants and blazer at my welcome home dinner parties would cut it. Fuck me for assuming.
Mindy pours some of the pasta sauce in the pan that I think is filled with pasta. I'm starting to think she's making lasagna. After more ingredients fill the dish she places it in the oven, wipes her hands on her apron, takes it off and motions her finger for me to follow.
Doing so, I follow her upstairs around to a room I know relatively well. When dad was away, before he fully pulled out, and then when he had to work the late night shift before I was old enough to stay alone, this was my room at Mindy's. Available any time day or night.
The room is just as I remember it. Queen sized bed covered in dark sheets and a dark comforter. Windows hung with dark curtains. A dresser that used to be filled with my things. Now on top are framed photos of me. Neighborhood BBQs. Christmas. High school graduation. Corps graduation. I see one of me and Haven from Thanksgiving. I want of those.
“Now, I bought this while anticipating for another event,” she says in what feels like a mutter to herself, “but since that hasn't come as quickly as I suspected might as well take this baby for a test drive.” Suddenly she pulls out a tuxedo from the closet still in clear zipped suit bag of protection. Mindy gently pulls the zipper to reveal it a bit.
With a crooked smile I ask, “How do you know my size?”
Mockingly she shrugs as she offers it. “Lucky guess.”
I study the material including the tag. Remembering the name I look up. “Who is the Tom Ford guy and why do you think I belong in him?”
“He's an amazing designer of men's fashion. And because I know about fashion the way I know about food. Don't question my judgment, just trust it.” She turns around and reaches in pulling out another suit, this one not black and white, but black and gray with a tie missing. “This one is for her graduation dinner. Try not to wrinkle it.”
My chuckle is small. I actually love when she mothers me. Gives me a warm feeling that I know I would miss if it wasn't there.
“And don't worry about Haven having something to wear tonight. She does.”
“How do--”
“I took her to a few charity events with me while you were gone. To say the least, Doug was relieved he was out of that duty. You know those kinds of things were never his scene. Well, not after all that happened. Anyway, she's got a fair share of dresses now.”
I look at the garments once more and smile again. “Thanks, Mindy.”
“You're welcome, Slugger...” She glances to the side and then sighs, “You should get going. Haven will probably be home any minute.”
Nodding, I let her walk me to the door, where I cross the street just as Mandy's car is pulling into the driveway. Haven slips out as Mandy rolls down her window, sunglasses covering most of her face.
Politely, I wave. “Hey, Mandy.”
“Hey, lover boy,” the terminology makes me stand proudly. It means Haven's been praising me again. Good. Maybe Michele was around to hear it. Get the picture. Finally.
“Hey you.” Haven wraps her arms around my neck and plants a chaste kiss on my lips.
“Hey Angel.” I stare into her brown eyes for a brief bit. Turning back to Mandy I nod. “Thanks for bringing her home.”
“My pleasure. How else can I hear about all the neat tricks you know in the sack?”
My eyes pop out of my head as my jaw hits the ground. In disbelief, I look at Haven who is covering her mouth to hide her giggles. I can't believe this. She knows? She knows! I--
“Chill out, Clint,” Mandy giggles. “From what Haven says, sounds like you should be teaching a class...”
I choke on the embarrassment. I should probably be honored. I should probably be thankful Haven is boasting about me. Hell, I should probably be relieved she has a friend to share that kind of information with yet instead I'm completely dumbfounded.
“Enjoy your evening you two. Text me,” she calls out to Haven and backs out of the driveway.
The way her grin is cocked to the side she reminds me of someone. Between her attitude and her sexual comments at inappropriate times, I can't shake the feeling she is a female Glove.
Turning to look at Haven, my mouth manages to say, “You talk about our...sex life?”
She shrugs innocently. “That's what girls do.”
A kiss lands on my cheek as she heads in the house, me on her heels, still in shock.
Once inside, Haven glances over her shoulder. “Those look awfully fancy. Do they have anything to do with my surprise tonight?”
I had almost completely forgotten I was carrying suits in my hand. Quickly I nod, “Yeah. Please put on one of your evening dresses.”
Excited she turns around swiftly, “Wow. Okay. Should I start getting dressed now?”
“We both should.”
Enthusiasm pops on her face and she hurries along up the stairs leaving me at the bottom trying to sort the mush my brain has become. She talks to Mandy about our sex life huh? I've never talked to Glove or Lordy about it. What if she's talked to Michele about it? Do we have boundaries? Are there things aside from the obvious that maybe we shouldn't talk about with other people? Not to say I'm a prude about the situation, none whatsoever, I'm just curious. Where does it stop? What happens when we have a disagreement? When she thinks I'm wrong? When I've made a wrong decision? Or what about when she's lonely? Or scared? Does she turn to her friends then? What if Michele got the impression she needed him? My phone vibrates in my pocket. An alarm I set is going off so I would have plenty of time to get ready. And that's exactly what I'm going to go do; leaving all those questions I'm not sure I want the answer to, behind.
After handing our invitations to the man at the door, I escort Haven into the busy function. The place is lined with tables and cooking stations, the entire room filled with men dressed like me, and women who wished they were as beautiful as Haven in their dresses. She's got on a black floor length gown, form fitted to the top, a looser fit on the bottom, showing off every curve she's got nonetheless. Making me wish we would've stayed home instead for sure.
“This is amazing,” she whispers in my ear as we approach a table filled with funny looking dishes I wouldn't even be anywhere near if it weren't for her.
The entire thing is designed as a tour around the world of famous dis
hes, by even more famous chefs. Tiny expensive dishes. Tiny expensive desserts. A food festival for the snobby. By the end, I know I'm going to need to stop to grab a greasy cheeseburger, but it's worth it. To see that look right there on Haven's face. To see her grinning like I brought her Christmas in July. To see her in her element, in her natural state of being is worth any food faking I will have to endure for the next three hours.
Hour one isn't so bad. Haven's going on and on about various spices and seasonings while I am nibbling on food from Mexico, Brazil, Columbia, and Chile. All of it delicious. And the fact she has numerous facts about what I'm eating causes me to grin wider. From the way she's spewing information, it looks like I'm not the only one who’s a fast learner.
Hour two is different. We taste dishes from Ireland. Scotland. England. Wales. My taste buds are beginning to feel abused. Haven, on the other hand, is still in Heaven which is good. This night was supposed to be about her. Showing her I still love her and am trying to fit into her world. That I want to make this work. That she doesn't have to replace me because I'm right here for her like I always have been.
I look over at Haven as she wipes her lips softly with a napkin. I wanna tell her there's nothing I wouldn't do to make her happy. That my days begin and end with thoughts of her. I wanna tell her I'm prepared to drop down on one knee and ask her to spend the rest of her life with me. I want her to know she's what matters most to me.
She sees me staring and smirks, “What?” When I smile widely she lowers her voice to a whisper, “Do I have food in my teeth?”
“No,” I touch her cheek in hopes to help ease her quick woes. “You look...perfect.”
Her face expands into a wide smirk. “Thank you.”
“No. Thank you.” I lower my forehead to hers completely forgetting we are in a room full of people. “For everything. I'm not sure who I would be if you would've never fell in my yard that day. And I honestly I don't wanna know what a life without you in it is. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not ever.”
Haven's eyes close and her lips tilt up towards mine when the worst thing I can think of happens. “Haven?”
The voice of the Antichrist pulls her away from me. Her attention that was just floating in my eyes now docked on my stand in. Michele's dressed in a black suit as well, his hair filled with gel or hairspray or something to keep it matted down to his head in a dapper fashion, and a check mate smirk on his smug face proving once again in his head, he wins this round.
“Oh my god! Michele!” she squeals pleased and tosses him a brief hug.
He enjoys it too much if you ask me causing my fist to clench. Get it together, Marine. You can't take him down here. Not now. You'd get us kicked out. Make Mindy the laughing stock. Do. Not. Do. It. Deep breaths.
“What are you doing here?” he asks a glass of champagne finding its way into his grasp as a waiter passes by with a tray full.
“Clint brought me.” my name acts as a cue for me to place my arm around her waist. Pull her into me. She smiles at gesture.
“Oh? So this is the magical date you had planned?” his attention now turns to me. “And just how exactly did you get an invitation? I doubt you know the difference between a pop tart and an actual tart?”
The jab at me clenches my fist again, but Haven moves in closer to keep me still. I guess she can still feel my tension whenever it rises. “Be nice, Michele.”
“Sorry,” he apologizes to her sincerely. After she looks forgiving by the soft smile I know all too well, he snaps his head back at me, “These things are by invite only. Can't just buy tickets at the box office. You'd have to know the right people.”
With an arrogant smirk, I reply, “Then I guess I do.”
“I guess as a navy boy--”
“Marine.”
“That you probably saved somebody's life that matters enough to have these tickets.” He takes a long draw of his champagne. I wish he'd choke. I wish I could fucking choke him. Looking sweetly down at Haven he asks, “No champagne for you?” She shakes her head quickly trying not to blush. In a faint voice he says, “They don't card you.”
“You do know the legal drinking age in the states is 21 right?”
“And in France, it's 18. Guess that's one more thing they do better than you.” the disgust for the country he was raised in baffles me. He was born here. Raised here. But he hates it? I'm out fighting for his right to hate it and he can't even get which division I'm in correct. Explain to me how that's fucking fair.
“Who are you here with?” she changes the subject before I can react.
“Just my mother. You know how my father isn't as civilized.”
She giggles and tosses a hand at him. “Stop. He's not that bad...”
She's met the frog prince's father?
“Well he adored you. Almost as much as mother.”
And his mother? She's met his family. Like they're dating. Like they are a couple. His mother. Who is living. Who is breathing. Who can welcome her with open arms and open heart. Something no matter how hard I wish can never be true for me. Suddenly I can't breathe. My lungs feel like they are filling up with fire. Burning. Slow. Steady. The room feels like it's a little hazy. Sounds are distant. Smells filling the air too intense to bear.
I slide my body away from Haven's and clear my throat. “If you'll excuse me.”
Confused she turns her attention back on me. But it's too late. The panic and anxiety is settling in my veins like cement. “Are you okay?”
“I'm fine.” She looks at me weary. Oh now I matter? “Just gonna use the restroom.”
Haven sighs and nods folding her arms across her chest, a mild look of concern still on it. I make an immediate bee line for the private bathrooms and lock myself in the first one. My head hits the back of it once it's closed and I force my eyes shut.
I can give her almost anything. Almost anything. The inability to give her the chance to meet the woman who birthed me never seemed to matter until now. Until I met someone who could. Sure, she can meet Mindy. She has met her. And Mindy is the best fucking second mom a guy could ever dream of, but she'll never get to meet the woman who’ DNA I share. Whose smile I miss. Who used to read me bed time stories and give me advice about girls long before they were ever a blimp on the radar. And before now it never seemed to be an issue. But that look on Haven's face. That glow of meeting someone who is from albeit a stuck up, but mildly normal family. A place easier to fit in than our neighborhood. A place where not everyone is keeping secrets and lies. A place where a family is just a family and not a secret gathering. A place where her attacker couldn't find her. A place where she didn't have to watch him die in front of her. There's nothing like that look of happiness on Haven's face. I'll do anything to be the one to put it there. I'll do anything to be the reason it's there. But I'm beginning to wonder if I can.
18 Days Til School
Sinking towards the bottom of the pool feels impeccable. I know hitting the bottom is going to be sooner rather than later, but the stress it places on my body, the strain on my lungs to do as I command all feels like a breath of fresh air. It's nice to be able to control a situation, even if it is only momentary. The minute my feet hit the ground, I shoot up like a rocket for the top.
I take a deep breath of fresh air, letting the buzz of replacing the air in my body turn into a new kind of high. My hands push through my hair and I look up to see Felix exiting out onto his patio.
“How's the task of trying to drown yourself going?”
With a chuckle I shrug and lift myself on the edge, leaving my feet in but allowing the rest of my body to drain. “Still alive.”
Felix strolls towards me shoving his hands in dark jeans. Noticing him approaching I observe his white shirt. Black long tie. Nice shoes. Looks like someone went to the official office.
Nodding towards him I ask, “Cooperate America today?”
“Ugh. Don't remind me.” One of his hands tugs at his tie. “Not that I care, but what are you doing in my poo
l, Slugger?”
“Didn't feel like going to the gym.”
“No. I meant what are you doing in my pool? Free swim? Laps? Lounging? Though it feels a little cool just to be enjoying the water.”
I let a small smirk come on my face. “Just working on some of my water skills.”
“I thought your requirements were already fulfilled. That you already qualify for school since you're enrolled and all.” My eyebrows rise. He knows too? How many people did dad tell? Mindy's not that big of a surprise. Felix a little more so.
“I do. Just trying to make sure I'm at the top of my game.”
“I admire your hard work, Slugger. We're all real proud of you.” The smile on his face is genuine. It feels like a speech he wishes he could give to his own son, but can't. There's a surge of guilt that rips through me. I know what it's like to be the son who wishes his father was proud of him. Never thought I'd relate to Howard. However, I've done things worth being proud of unlike him. He's nothing more than a stain in his family tree. “What's Haven think?”
The question causes me to reach for my towel in order to distract from making eye contact. “She doesn't know yet.”
“Oh?”
Quickly I respond, “She's just been so busy trying to graduate, I didn't want anything to distract her or ruin her big day.”
He nods. Skeptical. At this point I can't blame him. She's the only who doesn't know. I tell myself it's to protect her that I'm waiting for the right moment. Part of me knows that's bullshit. I know when I tell her I have to see that heartbroken look on her face. That my leaving again is real. That the chance for Michele or some other douche to take my place is a real threat I can't do anything about. That I can't control. Fuck, I miss having all the control. I fucking need that control.
“How are things between you two?”
The fact she blew me off for the last two days starts bouncing around in my head. I put on a cold face. Gotta conceal the emotions that are demanding for just a fucking minute to make an appearance. “Good.” Immediately I try to distract, “I keep meaning to ask, how's Howard?”
