On a half sob, she confessed, “I’m late.”
forty-six
What came next, I freely admit wasn’t my finest moment. In retrospect, I wished for a mulligan, in golf speak, a redo, something. I’d heard of these mistakes by other guys in the past and never once thought I would join their ranks. I’d always taken every precaution. Thus in my wildest dreams, I never expected such a conversation like that to ever occur.
Bradley patted my shoulder like I was a toddler that dropped his ice cream cone. He scooped up Jess from the floor like he was her knight while I stood like the court jester who just been told off with his head.
There was no neon sign, and if there would have been one, I so was blind at that moment.
“What are you late for?” I asked dumbly.
Bradley sat on the edge of the bed with Jess curled up beside him looking as green as a leprechaun. Clearly my brain had headed to Mars while Jess was resting on Venus.
When Jess didn’t answer, Bradley took charge. “Late and throwing up, Genius.”
I blinked trying to make the connection. I blame a lack of sleep, the early hour and the stupidity of being a guy, for taking more than a minute to put it together.
“Shit,” I muttered. I scrubbed a hand over my head, taking what I thought was a long moment before I put my foot in my mouth again.
Meanwhile, Bradley continued to take care of Jess the way I should have. He stroked her back and murmured incoherent words as I tried to find the right ones.
Jess uncurled herself.
“Wait,” I said wanting to say what I thought I should have said in that first moment.
She, on the other hand, had been speaking to him at the same time. “I feel better thanks.” Her words weren’t for me, and I felt like the biggest ass on the planet.
“Jess,” I dived in again. This time I gained her attention. She stopped and tottered on her feet. He was there again to give her a steady hand. With her eyes still on me, I jumped in. “I’ll be there for you no matter what,” I began. “Even if the kid isn’t mine.” And I landed in the shallow end of the pool.
As shaky as she had been seconds before, she found her footing as she marched over and slapped me hard.
“What the—” I held my cheek because she had put more power behind it than I thought her capable. It stung, although it was more likely my pride.
I continued to bury myself deeper in a hole I wouldn’t get out of. “You hit me because I said I would stand by you. I didn’t call you a slut. I can’t blame you for being with someone else even if it was the prick, Richard.”
She came forward again, and I dodged her blow with a backward bend that would make the stunt doubles in the movie the Matrix proud.
“You asshole. I’ve only ever been with you.”
Bradley should have stopped me or I should have shut up. Hindsight is 20/20, perfect vision according to the eye world. Instead, I kept vomiting up words that would choke me later.
“We’ve always used condoms except that one time in the shower and I pulled out.”
“Whoa,” Bradley said with upturned hands. “I don’t think I need all of that information.”
It was as if he weren’t there. I heard him, as I was sure Jess heard him. However, our eyes were locked in a battle between me, the incredulously stupid me, and Jess, the furious ticking bomb.
“But we didn’t use condoms at your house, you prick.”
“My house? I haven’t been to my house since…” I trailed off as the key turned to unlock my brain.
“Since we went for the deposition,” she finished for me. “I came over your house to bring you food and found you pitiful and drunk in your room. I loved you then like I dumbly love you now even though I shouldn’t. We—”
“…Had sex,” I said completing her sentence. My voice seemed to come from far away. “I thought it was a dream. You weren’t there in the morning. There wasn’t evidence of you being there. I assumed I dreamed it all.”
I glanced up from the floor to meet her eyes and hoped the pitiful stare in them would pardon me for all my incorrect testimony.
“Well, you didn’t,” she snapped.
She spun away once I had gotten it. She picked up her purse and started tapping on her phone. I moved to her lightning quick, but Bradley got in my way as she glared at me.
“What are you doing?”
I hadn’t aimed my words at him, but he answered nonetheless.
“Give her some space.”
Jess chimed in. “I’ve ordered a cab to take me home.”
“Jess, please. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m a stupid ass, but don’t go like this.”
She didn’t even blink or wait a beat to cut me with her words. “You are sorry and stupid. And maybe I’m tired of waiting for you to wise up.”
Her movements were lithe as she avoided my reach as she went by. Bradley kept his body poised in between us as she made her way to the door.
“It’s not safe,” I croaked.
Bradley forced me to focus on him by crowding me in my space. “I’ll talk to her. Just stay here and don’t make it worse. It’s obvious you’re not good with words first thing in the morning.”
He hurried to the door while I desperately wanted to be the one to chase her. Maybe it would be worse, and she’d say something that would make things all the more final between us. I’d already done an awesome job of messing things up. I had to trust Bradley with my back and that he could convince her that I hadn’t meant to be so dimwitted.
It hadn’t been a dream, I murmured to no one. I crouched to the ground with a teepee of fingers against my mouth. I wanted to spring into action as the coils inside me sprang to life. I’d just gotten Jess back and lost her within twenty-four hours.
The longer I sat, thoughts about what was going to happen to me after grandfather’s funeral weighed me down. Maybe everything happened for a reason. Jess was surely better off without me. When freedom was no longer my friend, Jess would try to reason her way to hang around and wait for me. And I didn’t want that. She deserved a long life of happiness, and I couldn't give her that.
When Bradley came back in alone, I set a new plan in motion.
forty-seven
Forward was the direction I moved because backward wasn’t possible. I stood in a bar with a railing at my back wondering how Bradley convinced me to go out that night.
A guy with a crooked grin saddled up to Bradley’s side.
“First time?”
Bradley’s stare alone was a little too wide for anyone to not pick up on that. He nodded.
“I can always spot newbies. What I’m wondering is how you got Mr. Straight-laced to come with you.”
Bradley shrugged and glanced at me with a prominent but impish smile.
“You want to dance curious boy?” the guy asked with wicked fluttering eyes.
Bradley hadn’t said a word yet. I watched him accept the hand of the shorter guy that looked like he wanted to eat Bradley alive. My best friend obviously found the guy attractive because he glanced back at me with bright eyes and a shrug.
I turned around and stood at the bar to my front instead of my back. A guy with tats for sleeves moved over to me.
“What will you have?”
“Coke.” I wanted a drink, but he’d card me and I didn’t have a fake id on me. He quoted a price that equaled what I would pay for a case of the stuff. I placed the cash and an acceptable tip on the counter in front of me.
Shortly after, a guy moved a little too close given there was still space and spoke to the bartender. “Rum and coke, please.”
After he'd proved his legal status, I felt his burning gaze land me. I had a moment to wonder if that was what girls felt like when guys like me ogled them.
“You have a name?” he asked.
Flummoxed, I was tongue-tied for a second. I knew how to shut down a girl who made a pass at me, but this was a totally new experience for me.
“Yeah.” I laughed a lit
tle nervously unsure as to what I supposed to say next. Don’t bother me. I’m not into guys. That seemed rude especially considering where I was. Bradley was so going to owe me.
“The pretty ones are always prima donnas.”
For some odd reason, I didn’t want to come off as a dick. I turned to face the guy.
“Not true actually.”
The guy would be a hit with the women in most clubs, yet he was calling me pretty. He eyed me up and down as the bartender put our drinks down in front of us and left for other customers. He nudged my drink towards me and I took it in hand.
“You’re straight aren’t you?”
I shrugged.
His eyes darkened in protective way, and I wondered where the venom was coming from before he spoke. “Come to make fun of the fags?”
I held up a hand. “Not exactly. I came to support a friend.”
With the glass, I pointed in the general direction of where Bradley danced wildly with the guy from earlier.
He nodded. “Sorry, when you’re one of us, you sometimes expect the worst in people.” He took a sip of his drink. “Man they’re watering the drinks down tonight.” He paused for a second before adding, “It’s good you’re here for your friend and not to judge.”
“No judgment.” I shook my head in agreement with my words.
“Have a good night,” he said before moving off into the crowd.
I turned back to the bar and took a seat. I had a feeling I would be there for a while. When I took a gulp of my drink, I realized instantly that our drinks had been mixed up. That guy’s drink hadn’t been watered down. He’d just gotten my regular coke by mistake. I’d gotten his Coke mixed with rum. I tossed it back not wanting to put it to waste.
The crowd thickened as the night wore on. I was bumped a lot with maybe a stray hand on my hip once or twice. I took to saying I was waiting for someone when anyone approached.
“Excuse me.” After the words, there was a light tap on my shoulder.
With prepared words to ease the guy off, I turned to find my phone being proffered to me.
“Did you drop this?”
I patted my empty pocket. “Yeah, thanks man.”
He nodded as I took it before heading on his way. It just showed there were still nice people in the world. It was the latest model. One I'd gotten before I’d been cut off from Dad’s fortune. I nursed another regular Coke I ordered while I waited for Bradley to be finished with his fun. Technically, it wasn’t his birthday anymore. But I didn’t want to stand in his way of figuring things out.
When the top half of my internal hourglass was almost empty, I searched for Bradley on the dance floor and came up empty. Instead, he headed towards me from a completely different direction with the same guy trailing him.
The guy scrubbed at his face and Bradley was flushed. Silently, I asked Bradley what was up with raised brows.
The little dude moved in with eyes only for my friend. “A few of us rented a hotel room, you should join.”
I didn’t like how conflicted Bradley looked as if going with some strangers was the right move. I did the only thing I could and hoped I could pull it off straight-faced.
“Baby doll, this experiment of yours has gone too far. You’re not going home with anyone but me.” I slung my arm over my best friend’s shoulder while the guy looked on as if a train had just derailed. I used my leverage around Bradley’s neck to steer him out of the bar. Once we were out on the street, I removed my arm and busted out laughing. Bradley slugged my shoulder with no force behind it.
His face turned somber. “I don’t even know why I considered it.”
I did. I waited until after I gave him the keys even though I’d only had one drink that night. When we pulled out, I reiterated my words from the night before.
“You don’t have to do this for Madison. You should do this because you want to do it.”
Forlorn, he said, “I still fucking love her.”
“I know. Don’t I?” And I understood him in the way he understood me. We were both goners for girls we might never have.
“She isn’t homophobic or anything. There are things in her past that Jessa doesn’t even know about.” He slapped a hand on the steering wheel. “She’s more afraid of me hurting her. So she dumps me for some asshole she doesn’t give a shit about.”
“Then fight for her,” I implored. When he sighed wearily, I added, “Or let her go and move on.”
After the words had left my mouth, I had to wonder if I was giving myself advice.
forty-eight
After I’d dropped Bradley off at the airport, I glanced at the blank screen of my phone. A day had passed before I mustered the courage to send Jess a text of three simple words. She hadn’t responded. Bradley tried to assure me that she just needed time. That seemed to be the story of our lives these days.
A small packed bag was stowed in the backseat. After having company over the weekend, I couldn’t bring myself to go back to the flat and brave the place alone. It reminded me too much of being abandoned at my house after my father died. Mom left me to go to California, and I had to fend for myself outside of the three day a week housekeeper Mom paid for.
The sun had long since set, and the dotted white line that lead to an infinite number of places was the only marker indicating I was moving. When had my life become so surreal? How had I found myself in some bad autobiographical book about me? Even though I knew some of the pages of my story were all wrong, it was far too late to rewrite anything.
I drove and parked out front wondering how much staff was left after Mr. Lambert dropped the gantlet of changes to the household. Charlene, having seen or heard me coming, met me at the door.
“Ethan, it’s good to see you.”
“You too.”
She gave me a quick hug.
“Can I take your keys, so your SUV can be stowed?”
I handed them to her, still amazed at her kindness. Her daughter was being watched because of me. Yet, she held no resentment. I found my way upstairs to the room I’d used before. Memories of Clarissa had me rethinking my choice. I ended up in a room a few doors down where I crashed for the night.
The next day, I sat in the gardens getting inspiration from the manicured lawns and hedges for the drawing I worked on in my sketch pad. The back of the estate was a work of living art. Flowers of all colors broke up the field of green creating a space of peacefulness.
Everything had been put in order. All my professors had been notified of my bereavement leave. I had a week of free time. As the picture took shape, I realized I was drawing my grandfather. I was lost in my escape when she stepped up.
“You were always a really good artist whether it was drawing or taking pictures. I’m surprised you’ve decided to be responsible and get a law degree instead of something to do with the arts.”
At first, I didn’t glance up. Her form of compliments never did come without the sting of disappointment. When I did look at her, she held a cigarette to her lips as her lungs expanded deeply as if it were her last breath. I wanted to tell her that she would be more beautiful if she gave up smoking. There wasn’t a point. She didn’t live for my compliments. She didn’t live for me at all.
All of a sudden I remembered my last puff on one with Mara. It was only then did thoughts of Meghan creep in. I wondered if she liked her pictures. I considered contacting Mara and asking. I tossed the idea away. My termination was still raw. It was for the best that I didn’t talk to either of them for different reasons.
I ignored Mom and I went back to work. I continued to shade with my pencil knowing the truth of why I’d become the artist in the first place was due to her influence. Though, I wouldn’t tell her. It had been the one thing that I did that made her proud. When I was very young and had gotten her first pure praise for my drawings, I had worked harder each time to be and do better. She would proudly show off my work and in turn me to company whenever they came over. She would come to my school if any
of my work was displayed. So, I’d done my very best to be the best.
“I’m surprised, with all your reckless behavior after your father died that you’re not strung out or dead.”
For the first time, I didn’t feel paralyzed with fear that I was a failure in her eyes. I shut my sketchbook and stood. I was taller than her by at least a head. She stepped back. I wasn’t wearing the pliable expression she was used to.
“Why do you hate me?” It was the question I voiced in my head for years and finally asked her over the phone a few weeks ago. Her answer had been a lie. I decided it was a good time to ask in person and see if she had the cojones to answer truthfully. I had nothing to lose. She would hate me even more after she heard my confession.
She looked taken aback. “Hate,” she began. “I don’t hate you Ethan.” I almost chuffed at her response until she added, “I despise you.”
It felt like a punch to the solo plexus though I remained upright. I had to give her points for being honest.
“For a long time I took your venomous feelings towards me because you lost your ability to have other children due to me, maybe even ones you might have liked.”
It was her turn to appear shocked by my revelation.
“Yes, I heard you and Dad talking about it years ago. Now, I realize that I can’t be held responsible for that. I didn’t ask to be born. Certainly if I had, I would have wished for a mother who loved me. I’m sorry that you were stuck with me. But I also pity you. You will be alone with no one to love you. Because let’s face it, Aunt Margaret tolerates you. I was the only one outside of Dad who loved you unconditionally. I stupidly I still do. Only I hope you realize what a fool you are before I wise up and write you off.”
Broken Lens Page 24
