by Hazel Parker
Shirley had two plates waiting as we rounded the corner.
"Eat." She made it clear it wasn't a suggestion, so we did.
As I expected, some extension of Harrison was the topic. It was still too new and painful to be dropped.
"You think she'll cremate him?" Warren asked.
"Yeah. I think she will. Ain't no point in burying him. We should scatter his ashes on Cedar's Hill. What's the point in burying him? You know ain't nobody gon' visit," Gus said.
He’s right. I don’t visit my own father’s grave; no way in hell I was visiting Harrison’s. When you’re dead, you’re gone. That’s what I believe, and I know a lot of the brothers feel the same way.
Warren moved to Arizona almost ten years ago, but he still sounded like his hometown Atlanta, Georgia.
"Well, it's not up to us. Has anybody talked to Lila?" Gus asked.
"I brought her some food day before," Shirley said.
I dragged my fries through the ketchup on my plate, not wanting to listen, but being unable to stop listening.
"How’d she look?" Luke asked.
"Like death warmed over," she said crassly.
I caught Jerry wincing in my peripheral vision.
"Don't say that," he said darkly.
"I'm just saying," she said defensively. "And it's true! You know spouses tend to die right after the other from a broken heart."
I stayed quiet as I typically would have and just watched. Jerry visibly paled even more and he slapped the countertop loudly with his fist. "I said don't say that!"
The club stilled and I tensed. Shirley never took too much from anybody. I feared she’d retort with something even more cutting.
He stood, dropping his half-eaten sandwich onto his plate.
"Lila needs us to be strong for her. Words mean things. Don't say no shit like that. Especially around me,” he said. “She's strong. She's going to be okay. She's going to make it," he said forcefully. "She has to," he said under his breath as he walked back to the office.
The air was still tense when the brothers went back to eating. Conversation slowly bubbled up again.
"He's right. Maybe we should stop by again and make sure she's getting out of the house," Gus said from behind a glass of beer.
Shirley pulled a rag from behind the counter and began to wipe down the wood, "I didn't mean nothing by it," she said, looking around.
"We know, Shirl," I said, patting her hand before handing her the empty plate. "Thanks for lunch."
"Take this to him, will you?" she said, pushing the rest of his sandwich towards me.
"You got it."
I entered the office and closed the door behind me. Jerry was sitting on the couch with his head leaned back and his eyes closed.
"You must be close to the edge, yelling at Shirley."
"I don't need a lecture."
"I wasn't going to give you one. Just saying. You need to find some chill before you lose it completely."
"I hear you," he said unmoving even as the couch dipped under my weight.
"Bet. Now eat your sandwich. We still got hours of this shit."
He peeked open one eye at the sandwich on his lap and nodded as he bit into it.
Kaylen
I turned back towards the mirror, trying to see myself from every angle.
I think I look good.
This would’ve been the perfect time to have girlfriends. I mean, I had friends at the hospital, but we had yet to explore a friendship out of those four walls. But I could’ve used one right about then to tell me truthfully if I looked good or not. But I didn’t have any here and I didn’t have any from my past. No one lasted through the sifter that was my marriage. I didn’t blame them for leaving. I was quite negative and in a very draining situation. But now that I’m not as young, but more independent, I was ready to give this dating thing a go again and I couldn’t even figure out what to wear! Something evil reminded me of what he would say.
You look terrible. You’re still gaining weight. You shouldn’t show too much skin; it makes you look like a whore. Who do you think wants to see all that?
"SHUT UP!"
He wasn’t here. I brushed my hair smooth, pulling some to the front, draping it over my chest. I could barely stand still and my body jiggled excitedly as I freshened my makeup. This was it. I tried to think on the positive instead of the negative man I left behind. For the first time in years, I was going on a date! I could barely hold in my squeals of excitement.
What’s the protocol for such an event? Am I supposed to let him know I’m excited? No. That’ll look too eager. Should I text him when I get there? Probably not. Maybe we’ll just find each other inside.
Checking the time, I saw that it was six forty-five.
I better go. Between the car ride and the wait, I'll be right on time.
I went back and forth the entire Uber ride debating if I should text him.
Maybe I could tell him when I get outside. Perhaps just say, ‘Can’t wait to see you inside.’ No. I even debated asking the Uber driver.
But when the car pulled in front of the club, I took Evan's silence as a sign. Fate was in charge here and I decided it was best to trust the situation. We’d met twice before in the hospital; surely we could meet again in a crowded club... with loud music and sexy women probably throwing themselves at him.
When I’m finally let in, the scene made me feel ten years older than I was. I was reminded just how long it had been since I’d been to a club and how much I missed dancing. Weaving through the crowd, I was reminded just how out of place I was. I wasn’t in the tightest dress, the tallest shoes, and I didn’t have a best friend on my arm. It seems that everywhere I looked, women were coupled in twos, obviously enjoying each other’s company and protecting each other from unwanted attention. I felt ridiculously out of my element, but I came on a mission and I pushed my way to the bar for liquid courage to fulfill it.
I looked around for Evan for what seemed like hours, but was probably only one. My worst fears played in my head. Maybe he wasn’t coming. Maybe he ditched me. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he decided he had better things to do with his time. I didn’t want to believe any of them, but that’s what my brain made me think. It was ridiculous to put my issues on him but this was the first time I’d been out in literally years. The least he could have done was show up on time. He had struck me as a punctual kind of guy – maybe my impression of him was wrong.
I shook my head.
That couldn’t be. We were texting almost nonstop the other day. Granted, the past few days had been slower, but I thought it was just because of our different schedules. I didn’t know what he did for a living exactly but I was sure he was just busy working—not disappearing. He couldn’t have just lost interest. Something had to have happened. He would have called or something if he had to cancel. I had to believe that. Since I couldn’t drink anymore for fear that I’d be drunk when he did come, I took myself to the dance floor. What better way to stop worrying?
Finally, I see him. In the dark of the club all I could see were his high cheekbones and mischievous eyes. He danced like no one was watching, but of course they all were, including me. I couldn’t take my eyes off him and he didn't care. As if drawn to me, he looked up from the blonde dancing in front of him and locked eyes with me. I moved before my feet realized that they were walking, and then we were dancing. In Evan's arms, I remembered how much I loved dancing. It all came back to me like riding a bike.
The music moved me like a puppet on strings, my head bobbed so hard my brain was in shut down mode. There was so much sweat on my skin and not all of it was mine. The DJ played some remix of Bohemian Rhapsody and the electric harmony of Freddie Mercury’s voice with the techno beat was intoxicating.
Is this the real life?
Clubbing made my synapses jump like beans in a tin.
Is this just fantasy?
I couldn't have been more alive than if I was shouting from a mountain top.
Caught in a landslide—
The music was a drug that brought me higher, higher until my mind buzzed with pure joy. I felt as if my soul was going to shine so brightly my skin would start to glow, like my aura would have become visible.
No escape from reality—
But that wasn’t true. I was escaping right then and the night was still so young, my limbs had so much energy I could have danced for millennia and then some more.
I don’t know how long we danced together or how many women he turned down to dance with me. All I know is that after seconds, minutes, possibly hours, he dragged me off the floor to hydrate me.
"That was amazing," I gasped.
"It was,” he replied, equally out of breath as we gulped down water.
"I thought you weren’t coming."
"I didn’t think I was either,” he said, slamming down the glass on the counter. "But I'm here now." He smirked before pulling me to his chest by my behind, “So what are we going to do about it?”
I gasped at his behavior. In the hospital he was so tame, so patient, and obviously hurting. But there… he was in control but in a completely different way. I never expected this kind of man to be under his demure package. Maybe it was the music, maybe it was the whiskey I could smell on his breath, but whatever it was, I was buzzing with heat in between my legs and I felt alive. I couldn’t bear to remove his hand from my ass.
I decided to play his game. “I don’t know. What do you think we should do about it?”
He opened his mouth and closed it as his phone vibrated in his pocket.
"Hold that thought."
His face illuminated with the fluorescence of his phone as he read a text. He typed something back quickly and frowned.
"What’s wrong?"
"I’ve got to blow this popsicle stand."
"Oh," I said, obviously disappointed.
"But you’re still invited back to my place. I can give you my address and you can meet me there."
“Oh. I don’t have a car. I got a ride here.”
He tilted his head to the side. "Well, that complicates things." As if deciding he no longer cared, he shrugged and said, "You down to take a ride?"
I didn’t know what to think but I nodded and as if sealing my fate, he smiled. The side of his red lips tugged upwards creating a sinister smirk on his godlike face. Then he took my hand and led me outside to his motorcycle.
"This is Poison," he said introducing his bike. Then he leaned over as if talking to her and said, "Play nice."
He swung a muscly leg around the bike and straddled it, giving me a perfect look at his shapely behind. “You ever rode a bike before?”
I shook my head quickly, making myself a little dizzy. "No."
He smiled again as if my inexperience excited him. "Climb on. She won’t bite."
He started the engine and the bike screamed too loud, spitting gravel behind it, and then we were off. I squealed and buried my head in his back, peeking from the side to see the blur of lights passing us by. After a few moments, I relaxed and really felt what was going on. I could smell the lingering scent of the rain from two days ago and the grass someone recently cut. My hair billowed around me, ruffling in the wind. It was out of its signature bun. Between my legs I could feel the heat and the rumbling of power in the engine and against my sensitive skin it turned me on even more. I felt vulnerable and free.
The ride came to an end when we pulled in front of a wooden structure with several motorcycles out front.
Los Banditos.
Evan cut the engine and waited until I got off. The ground immediately felt like it was still moving under me. He unbuckled his helmet and smoothed down my hair. "Sorry about that. I don’t carry extra helmets with me. So how was it?"
Exhilarating. Frightening. One of the funniest things I’ve ever done in my entire life.
"It was amazing."
He smiled widely and for the first time that night, sincerely. "Happy to oblige you in a first. I have some quick business to attend to in here and then we can go," he said leaning down, and placing his finger under my chin. He made sure there was nowhere else for me to look. "That bike was just the beginning of many firsts tonight. I bet you’ve never came more than,” he squinted, eyeing me from head to toe as if gauging all he needed to know from my attire to find his answer, “twice either."
I gasped and he chuckled lowly. "We aim to please here."
The next thing I knew, he had forced his lips onto mine and nearly knocked all wind from my lungs. I hardly had a moment to react before he pressed his tongue to the seam of my lips and, at my grant of access, delved inside my mouth. It was a very sloppy kiss, the strong scent of whiskey and sweat being exchanged in the intermingling of our billowing breaths.
“Give me your phone.”
“What?” I asked in a daze.
“Give me your phone.” I handed it to him. “Unlock it.” I did and watched as he punched in his number.
Why is he putting in his number? I already have it. Maybe he has two numbers. I should ask him about it.
“Just in case this takes longer than necessary and someone has to take you home. Because you’re getting those two orgasms,” he said, smiling brightly, “I might throw in another as a bonus if I don’t get to make you come tonight.” He winked as he pulled me inside, leaving no time to talk. And I ran smack into a nightmare.
Chapter Three
Evan
I liked my job. It wasn’t always easy, but I liked it. I liked doing a good job even if was just counting numbers and checking the right boxes. I did it well, and the fact remained that no one else could do it.
Jerry and I sat back taking in the music and drinking brews. There was something equally therapeutic and refreshing about a glass of ice cold beer. Finally relieved from bookkeeping duty and allowed to breathe without the doom of audit looming over my head, I dug my phone from my pocket. It was like life suddenly began because that was finished. Everything floated to the surface and I realized that Kaylen had never texted me back. I guessed she wasn’t ready. It was never like me to question what was, and I figured that if she didn’t want to reschedule or accept my apology, she wasn’t worth it. But I couldn’t say I that wasn’t upset.
The club had a tendency to turn into a small party after hours. By default, it usually brimmed with men, who in turn would bring their significant others or current lays, who would bring their friends. Add in music and drinks and you had something like a party. The club was holy ground, and not just anybody could come in. Those who could intended to relax in the familiarity of safe space.
“So what time d’you think they’re going to come?” Jerry said sliding onto the stool beside me.
“You know how they are. They’ll come anytime they think will be the most inconvenient,” I said matter-of-factly.
He shook his head. “You’re right. Too bad it won’t matter. No matter what time they come, the paperwork will still be the same.”
I chuckled. “Yup. That paperwork’s cleaner than the board of health.”
He laughed loudly as the door opened behind me.
Just a typical day. That’s what today was, or at least what I thought it was. That's what I got for thinking that, because seeing the woman I kissed in the arms of my twin brother was enough to pop that stupid, little bubble in my head. Typical day my ass.
I saw it all in slow motion. His hand possessively gripping her hip. Her thick body aching to burst out of the tight dress, like she just came from the club. I can't help wonder if she dressed like that for me. Her eyes wide, I couldn’t tell if she looked confused, scared, guilty, or a little of all three. The smug look on his face—my face—made me wonder whether he knew she was mine, or if he just always looked like that when he thought he was about to score. I couldn’t remember.
We shared every, damn thing—a name, family, friends… hell, this club even. But not women. Women were supposed to be out of bounds. They always were, since Irene in the 7th grade
dated Ethan first, broke his heart, and sent me a note with hearts on it. I wonder briefly if he somehow thought I’d changed my mind towards this after all this time, but I couldn’t think straight because I couldn't see anything else but his hand on her hip. I could feel the blood boiling under my skin and my hands curling into fists.
FUCK!
Today was supposed to be a typical day.
I stared at my brother in silence, searching his face for something to explain what was going on. There was nothing, so I addressed her.
“You never texted me back.”
My voice sounded strange to my own ears.
“Back?”
“Yeah, when I said, 'Can’t make it tonight. Don't be mad. I'll make it up to you.’”
I watched her face with scrutiny. You could tell a lot about a person if you just watched. Kaylen blinked rapidly before her brows furrowed and she looked up.
“I never got that text.”
She pulled her phone from a small clutch attached to her wrist and scrolled through the phone.
“See?” she said, holding the phone out even though we were too far from each other for me to read it. “Nothing.”
I never liked being made a fool of and what’s more, I never liked being called a liar. I’ve never been easy to provoke and yet, her sitting there with someone other than me felt a lot like something to be mad about. It was probably childish, but in a lot of ways it felt like she was with him to replace me. I understood the gesture, women had been trying to do that my entire life. If they somehow couldn’t get my attention, they went after Ethan’s. As if we were actually interchangeable. Women like that grinded my gears, and looking at her face and seeing how she sincerely believed she did nothing wrong, I pulled out my phone.
“Well that’s interesting, because I’m pretty sure my phone says–”
Do you know that moment you realize you’re an idiot, but don’t want to believe it? It’s not just because you don’t want to have not done dumb things, but because you realize that your idiocy probably ruined something for you. Yeah. Well, that moment was staring me in the face while I stared at the text message in my message bar waiting, but completely unsent.
