by Ruthi Kight
As I walked, Mike’s words bounced around in my head. Was it really that simple? Just go back and get some more? Was I making such a big deal about something so insignificant? I mean, having those pills would definitely qualify as necessity, but my mother had always said that pride goeth before a fall. If I couldn’t suck it up and put my big girl panties on, how far would I fall? And how many people would I take down with me in the process?
It would only take a short visit. I could handle that, right?
The library came into view and I was unsure how I had made it there so quickly. I must have been completely involved in my own head, yet again.
The building was exactly how I remembered it. The pillars that spanned the entire length of the structure were a little more cracked than I remembered, but the overall beauty of the building was still breath taking. As I pulled open the heavy doors at the front, I was met by an icy blast of air conditioning.
Ahhh...what a wonderful feeling. Thank goodness the city was willing to pump so much money into the patron’s comfort. The front desk was right in front of me, with two older women seated directly behind it. When our eyes met, theirs widened in a mixture of fear and discomfort. Ding ding! Looks like my celebrity status was still in full effect, at least with the older generation.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for Liam. Is he here today?” I asked in the sweetest voice I could muster.
They exchanged a look, both of them uneasy with my presence and unsure if they should tell me what I needed to know. “May I ask what you need from him?” The one on the left was quivering as she asked, but her face was set, her brows furrowed in concentration. Had to give it to her. She was a spitfire.
“No, you can’t ask.” I smiled, keeping my voice sweet and sugary.
“He’s in the archives, downstairs. Go down the hall over here,” the one on the right said, pointing over her shoulder, “and down the stairs. Third door on the right.”
Bitter Grannie was shooting daggers at Loose Lips Grannie, which made me giggle. They were definitely a fun pair. I thanked them both and followed the directions to find Liam.
When I found the stairs, I began my descent almost entirely in the dark. Hadn’t these people heard that dungeon-like stairs were soooo 20th century? The wooden stairs creaked and groaned beneath my feet. Mixed with the dank smell and creepy darkness, I was officially freaked out. No wonder Liam spent time reading outside. He probably went crazy every day that he was locked in that mildew covered basement.
“Third door...third door...third- Got it!”
I reached for the handle, but as my fingers made contact, I heard voices coming from behind the door. I recognized Liam’s voice, but the other male voice in the room was one I’d never heard before.
“You had one job to do! ONE! Nowhere in there did anyone tell you to move the bitch in!” the other voice yelled. Move the bitch in? What the fuck? I pressed closer to the door, my ear nearly touching the thick wood.
There were a few beats of silence before Liam’s voice answered. “I know. Shit. It’s not like I planned it! I couldn’t just leave her out there like that. She would have ended up in jail, or worse, dead!”
“That’s not your concern!” the other voice growled. “You were supposed to watch her. Find out what she was planning. Not move her in and play fucking house with her!”
Whoa. What. The. Fuck? My stomach was suddenly in knots, feeling like it was close to falling out of my ass. Were they talking about me? Had Liam been hired to watch me?
Angry footsteps drew my attention back to the conversation behind the door. “Whatever shit you’ve got in mind for her, forget it. Don’t get close to her. She’s dangerous. And, if you’re right about her not taking her medication, then we’ve got an even bigger problem.”
“I know what I’m doing. I will do my job, but I don’t think she’s hiding anything. She’s just a mixed up kid trapped in an adult body,” said Liam.
That did it. They were most certainly talking about me. Liam was hired to watch me. It was no accident that he had been at the bus station that day. They, whoever they were, knew I would be dropped off there. They had it all planned out, only Liam had gone against the plan. Now I just had to figure out why.
I couldn’t listen anymore. The truth was too much for my rattled brain to handle. I flew up the stairs, past the information desk, and out the front doors. Bent over, sucking in air, I felt like my world was once again crumbling around me. Liam had seemed like the one person in the world who was genuine. Who I could trust.
Obviously, my trust radar was as fucked up as the rest of me.
My feet were moving, once again, flat out running. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of Liam’s house. No longer did it look cozy and welcoming. Now it looked like a trap. The unkempt lawn, the discolored paint...all of it were nothing more than part of a scheme to get close to me. And it had worked.
How stupid could I really be?
I slammed through the house, grabbing my scattered belongings along the way. All of my clothes were piled in the corner, unwashed and smelling a little ripe, but I grabbed them and threw them into my overly used plastic bag. Having clean clothes was the least of my worries. Right then, the only thing I could think about was getting out of there. Away from him.
As I searched the bathroom for the final few items that I owned, I heard the front door open and close. He was home. There was no way that I would be able to get out of there without him knowing that something was wrong. I thought about confronting him about what I had heard, but I was scared of what he would say.
Would he deny all of it? Would he admit the truth? Neither of those were favorable options. I just wanted to be done with it, and him.
When I walked into the living room, he was seated on the couch with his head in his hands. A look of utter defeat engulfed him. His shoulders were slumped forward, his body was barely remaining upright. It was as if he had lost every ounce of fight within him since the last time I had seen him.
I walked into the room and stood in front of him, my hands on my hips. When he looked up at me, he didn’t look surprised. In fact, he looked like he had been expecting me to come out at any moment.
“You look like someone kicked your puppy,” I said, anxious to get away. I couldn’t stand to sit here and listen to his lies, but I wasn’t ready for the truth either.
He shook his head and looked back at the floor. “Where were you last night?” His voice was shaky, unsure.
“About that-”
He held up his hand to stop me. “Look, just forget it, okay? It’s water under the bridge.” He attempted to smile up at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Okay,” I replied, moving to the other side of the room where my bag of clothes sat. “I’m just gonna head to the...the Laundromat. I’ll be back later,” I mumbled the last bit, hoping that he wouldn’t hear the underlying sadness in my voice.
He stood and walked over to me. His fingers slid into my hair, twisting a few strands around his middle finger as he stared into my eyes. “You’re not coming back, are you?”
I couldn’t speak, so I simply shook my head. His eyes glassed over, but they did not spill. He was stronger than that, I knew. He would hold in whatever he was feeling until the bitter end.
“I’m not sure what happened...but whatever it was, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. My heart was breaking all over again. This man, the one who had betrayed me, had my emotions tied up in a messy knot. I knew I couldn’t trust him, not after what I had found out, but a part of me was devastated at the thought of never seeing him again.
I shook my head and stepped away from him as the tears threatened to fall. “I’ve gotta go. Goodbye Liam,” I said, pulling open the front door.
As I walked out of the house, my single grocery bag filled to the bursting point, all I could think about was his face as I said goodbye. He shed no tears in front of me, and I wasn’t sure if he ever would, but his sadness and pain
would forever be etched into my mind. I didn’t want to remember him like that.
I wanted to remember that cocky smile, those lean hips, as his boxers clung to his body, the way he smelled like sunshine and fucking happiness. That’s what I wanted to see when I closed my eyes, not the look of a beaten and broken man. I would not let myself feel sorry though. It had not been my doing. He was the one who had betrayed me. And if I was being completely honest, he had gotten off easy.
No fights, no broken furniture, no harsh words spoken out of anger...just goodbye. A pure and innocent goodbye.
Then, why was my heart breaking a little bit more with each step I took away from the house?
***
I stood in front of Mike’s shop, the beginning of a full blown migraine rearing its ugly head. Mike was the only other person I knew in town who didn’t want my head on their Thanksgiving serving platter. We never really talked about his home life, but I hoped that he would have room on his couch for me, if only for one night.
I knocked on the front door of the shop and then took a step back. There were lights on inside, so someone had to be in there. When the door finally cracked open, I saw Mike’s face smiling back at me. His brows were furrowed with concern, but he kept the smile plastered on his face.
“Hey troublemaker. What are you doing here?” he asked, opening the door fully to let me in. I breezed past him and dropped my bag on the floor near one of the clothing racks.
“I need a place to crash. Just for one night,” I replied nervously. “I promise I won’t get in the way. You’ll never even know I was there.”
He studied me for a moment before replying. “What happened with that guy you were living with? Liam, wasn’t it?”
I shook my head, then said “Turns out he wasn’t who I thought he was.”
“Care to explain?”
“Not really,” I said, my smile fading quickly. “So can I crash?”
“I guess. But Delia,” he said, putting his hand on my shoulder, “no playing with my tiki torches. I like my house, and my shop, in their current condition, got it?”
He was smiling at me, obviously joking, but his words still stung. I nodded and gave him a small smile, which appeased him. “I’ll be locking up in a few and we can head to the house. It’s across the street.”
With a nod, I grabbed my bag and went back out the front door. I sat on the steps out front and watched the cars drive by. People’s lives were still going, their friends were still there, their families still loved them…and mine? It was a hot fucking mess.
Bouncing from home to home, sleeping on couches, and not knowing where my next meal would come from had become second nature to me. There was nothing exciting about the nomadic lifestyle. When I was a kid, I had threatened to run away from my parents. We had gotten into a fight about how messy my room was.
Me, being a kid, thought that they were just being mean. After a huge temper tantrum, I packed a small bag full of toys and two pair of panties, and then walked downstairs. In the living room, watching television, was where I had found them. When they saw what I was carrying, a smile broke out on my mother’s face.
“Where you off to, sweetie?” she asked. My father, his nose no longer buried in his newspaper, was smiling as well.
“I’m running away. So don’t look for me!” I yelled at them both. Their smiles were making me even angrier, sending my young mind into an all-out meltdown. “Don’t laugh at me! Why do y’all hate me?”
At those words, the smiles dropped from their faces. It was no longer cute to them, which was what I had been trying to get across the entire time. “Delia Adair, do you have any idea how wrong you are?” asked Mom.
With a shake of my head, I just stared at them, waiting. “We love you more than life itself. You are the best thing to happen to us since we got married. Now, why would you want to run away and leave us like that?” Dad’s gentle voice had always helped me see reason. Mom was the one with the fiery temper, just like me.
“Why should I have to clean my room if I don’t want to? I can find everything I need, right there on the floor. Think of all the fun stuff I could be doing instead of cleaning.” I stood my ground with them, defending my choice to not clean my room. In my head, it was a reasonable argument.
My parents both stood up and walked over to me, embracing me in a huge hug. “Baby, there are some things that you won’t understand until you get older. Like the importance of keeping your space clean. Just this once, can you trust us? We’ve never steered you wrong before, have we?” asked Mom.
Her words still rang through my head, the moment seared into my memory. For a second, it was almost as if I was back there with them. I was a kid again, with nothing to worry about other than standing up for my right to live in a pigsty. I would have given anything and everything I had to have that moment back.
To be able to look them in their eyes and tell them that I trusted them, that I knew they loved me. But the moment was just a memory. There was no way for me to go back, to fix what had happened, to make amends for all the stupid shit I had done.
No matter what my age, I was destined to make bad choices, to screw up repeatedly. It was part of my DNA. But my latest blunder…trusting Liam…that was one mistake I couldn’t afford to make again.
I couldn’t rely on others anymore. For now, I would stay as long as I could at Mike’s, but I would bust my ass to get the hell out of there, no matter what. Living with people that I could never truly open up to…well, it just wasn’t a good idea.
The sound of the door slamming shut brought me out of my daze. Mike was standing behind me, locking up, so I stood up and joined him. He nodded at me and began walking across the street. There was no other choice but to follow him, so I did.
I had never noticed the house across the street before, even when I had stood at the window of the shop staring out into space. The house itself was small, as were most of the houses on or around the beach, but Mike’s was in much better shape than Liam’s. The paint wasn’t peeling, the front porch was sturdy, and the grass was kept at an acceptable height.
As we walked up to the door, he put the key in the door, unlocked it, and swung it open. He stood back, his arm sweeping inside. “Welcome home.”
Chapter Twelve
We settled into a routine after a few days, both of us getting up early in the morning and heading straight to work. He never asked me what had brought me to the shop that night, and I never volunteered the information. Some things were just better left in the past. Secret.
Liam’s name was forbidden in the house, per my request. Again, Mike never questioned it. He did, however, question me about my medication. Due to his prodding, I had an appointment to see Dr. Jenkins at the end of the week to get a new prescription. Since I had left Liam’s house, my anxiety and urges had been minimal, only rearing its ugly head at night.
The nightmares were getting worse with each passing night. Every morning, I awoke feeling amped and pouring sweat. The dream was changing constantly now. Instead of watching my parents die each night, I had to suffer through losing different people along with them.
Mike had shown up a few times, as well as Liam, but the most shocking face had been Ashley’s. I hadn’t thought of her since I left rehab, which made me feel like a terrible friend. I should have written her, sent her care packages, something. Instead, I had completely forgotten about her. Some people might say that it was understandable, especially considering all the bullshit I had been through since I had left, but I would say they’re wrong.
When you call someone a friend, it was supposed to mean something. It was supposed to be more than during the good times. But I had let her down, just like I seemed to do with everyone else in my life.
Shaking off my shitty mood, I decided that today, since it was my first day off since moving into Mike’s house, would be best spent on the beach. Getting a tan. And ignoring life’s douchebaggery. I deserved some fun, right?
When I walked acr
oss the street, clad only in my bright pink bathing suit and flip flops, I decided to stop in and say hello to Mike before making my way down to the water. The bell above the door signaled my arrival, causing the few people already there to turn and stare.
Well shit, maybe I should have worn a cover up instead.
I smiled and waved, then went in search of my boss. He was in the back of the store, digging through boxes. If he was back there, who the hell was watching the front of the place?
“Mike?”
Startled, he spun around and smacked his head against a surf board that was propped up against the wall. “Dammit Delia, how many times do I have to say it? Don’t sneak up on me!”
I couldn’t stop laughing as he rubbed his forehead. There was already a red mark forming there, sure to be a knot by the end of the day. “Sorry, just came by to say hi before I hit the beach. But, seriously, who the hell is watching the front while you’re back here digging for who knows what?”
“I have a friend who volunteered to come in on your days off,” he mumbled, intentionally not meeting my eyes. Oh no. That sinking feeling was back, spreading through my stomach, threatening to shoot straight up and out of my mouth.
With a shake of my head, I spun around and marched back out front. When my eyes landed on his back, I knew exactly who it was. There was no mistaking his shape, his muscles. I had stared at that body shirtless countless times. It was seared into my memory. “Oh, hell no,” I whispered.
When I turned to go back to Mike, I bumped right into his chest. He had followed me out. “Don’t freak out, D. He was the only person I could find.”
“Come the fuck on Mike! Really?” I turned away, glaring at Liam’s back. Without another word, I walked to the back of the shop that opened up onto the beach. I couldn’t’ be in the same room as him, either of them, at the moment.
No, I needed the ocean, the waves. I needed to escape for the day and not worry about everyone else around me. I hadn’t been spending nearly enough time in the water since I’d left Liam’s, but today that was going to change. It was time to put myself first for once and just have a good fucking time. To hell with everyone else.
