Rivers

by S. L. Scott

  Turning on her side, her hands are pressed together in prayer and tucked under her head. “I thought you already did care for me?”

  “Will you let me take care of you?”

  “What does that mean, Rivers?”

  I run my palm over her bare thigh and back again. “I was bragging about my money to impress you.” I chuckle under my breath. “I should have known it wouldn’t.”

  Her hand covers mine, and we still together on the peak of her hipbone. “Money will never impress me because I’ve seen what it does to people. What it turns them into. But you, my love, my Rivers, will always impress me because your heart will always be pure.” She sits up and adjusts her seat. “You came back for me.”

  “You believe me.” It’s hard to see the protective shell she built around her heart when she’s become so soft with me. That’s the girl she used to be. I like the contradiction. I love all sides of her when she’s with me.

  Facing forward, her eyes are directed on the night before us. “What becomes of us?”

  “It’s good for us to talk about this, but my feelings for you won’t change if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  She nods as moonlight reflects in her glassy eyes. When her gaze finds its way back to me, she confesses, “What becomes of me once you leave?”

  There is no answer for me to give that will reassure her. I know my heart. I hope what we’ve shared in this week means she knows my heart as well. “I don’t have the answers. I’ll fly you out whenever you can come visit me. Every weekend, if you want. I’ll fly back anytime I have time off. I’ll be here when you need me, but it might not be physically.”

  “You’ve given me so much to think about. It’s probably best you’re leaving. I can’t seem to think straight when you’re around. I look at you, and you’re just so hot.” She laughs lightly. “You’re very distracting.” Then a heavy sigh comes out. “I wish I could beg you to stay even though it won’t make a difference. But know that I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”

  Leaning over, I kiss her cheek. “I’ll miss you when I’m gone too.”

  Her arms wrap around me, and she holds me to her, tucking her head into the crook of my neck. Through tears falling on my shoulder, she says, “Why did you have to make me fall in love with you if you’re just going to leave me again?”

  I’m careful not to scratch my scruff against the soft skin of her face when I lift enough to kiss right in front of her ear, and then whisper, “Falling in love was never the problem. Never falling out of love is what hurt.”

  “I love you, Rivers Crow. I love you so much. Don’t go falling out of love with me once you’re back in the city of lost angels.”

  “I’m only lost when I’m not with you.” I lean back and tilt her chin up. “Listen to me, baby. We may not always be in the same city, but my heart will always be yours. You understand that? Yours. No one else’s. My whole world is wrapped inside you, so you take care of yourself and my soul.”

  She rests a hand on my cheek. “And when you return to me?”

  “We’re going to talk about our future, so be thinking about it while I’m gone,” I say, then tease, “since you can’t think straight when I’m here.”

  “I will.”

  I kiss her because I can’t be this close to this woman and not kiss her. “I love you.”

  As much as I don’t want to ruin our last night before I leave town, I owe Stella a lot more than promises for when I return. I owe her the full truth. My unfinished business has dragged us through hell. There’s no way I’m putting this off until I return.

  Stella was pissed at first when I told her I wanted to visit Naomi to clear the air, but I won’t go unless Stella is okay with it. She told me she’s ready for our slates to be cleaned so our future has nothing but blue skies ahead.

  I step out on the front porch and sit on the swing with my phone in hand. Ever since we got back, she’s been playing Beatles music. “I Want to Hold Your Hand” is heard through the cracked open front door.

  I pause because I don’t want to hurt Stella after finally getting her back. But will it hurt her more if I can never tell her the full story? Yes.

  I’m not sure if Naomi has the same number she did years ago, but I text anyway. Hey. Long time.

  Not wanting it to sound like a booty call if it’s the wrong number, I stop there and stare down at the screen. Nothing.

  Then three dots appear and the following message: Rivers?

  Me: Yeah. I’m here for a short visit and wanted to see if I can stop by?

  Naomi: Yes. When?

  Me: It’s late, but tonight?

  Naomi: Tonight works. I’m out in Buda now.

  Me: Send me the address and I’ll plug it in. How does thirty minutes sound?

  Naomi: Let me take care of a few things first. Forty-five?

  Me: See you then.

  I stand with a sick feeling in my stomach and tuck my phone in my back pocket. I’ve lived under the shadow of this confrontation for five years. Naomi cost me the love of my life. I’m just grateful that I got Stella back. I push open the front door and step back inside.

  Stella’s in the kitchen with a full glass of wine on the counter in front of her. I shut the door and close the distance. The song changes, and I hold my hands out. She takes one, and I raise it into the air as her other settles on my shoulder. We begin to slow dance to “In My Life.” The lyrics feel as if they were written for us.

  We’ve had our moments, from the good to the bad. All are still so vivid in the present, though, when I look into her eyes. “I’ve loved you longer than I haven’t.”

  Her mouth curves up on one side. “You’ve known me less time than when you haven’t, silly.”

  “When it comes to us, years don’t matter. Only heartbeats and I don’t remember a time when mine didn’t beat solely for you.”

  Coming closer, she rests her head on my chest, and says, “Think of me, okay?”

  “Always.”

  29

  Rivers

  The gravel grinds under my tires as I drive down the street. My headlights flood the front of my SUV and lamps inside houses make the windows glow in the dark of the run-down neighborhood. I turn onto a dirt driveway carved through the front yard, my tires kicking up dirt when I brake and shift into park.

  I’m only here for one reason—to end an agreement I should have never made. I’d love a cure for the side effects of healing the sickness that has diseased my heart ever since that fateful night five years earlier.

  When I cut the engine, the screen door opens, the hiss of the squeaky hinges alerting me to look up. I get out. Naomi leans against the chipped railing of the front porch. I can’t make out her face in the dim light, but I hear her say, “Good to see you, stranger.”

  “Yeah, good . . .” It’s not, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth in protest for even attempting the lie.

  I shove my keys and hands into my pockets and walk to the house, stepping around a pile of rocks and a few dead plants in their pots. There’s an old Toyota truck up on blocks on the side of the house and a rusty kids bike on the porch.

  The lights are brighter as I near the door, causing me to squint when I first see her again. Naomi opens her arms and hugs me tight. “Wow. Rivers Crow right here at my house. I’ve missed you.”

  She feels as wrong as those words feel foreign when it comes to her. Her Southern accent is stronger than I remember, but to me, she was another chick in our group of friends. Her and Stella were close enough at that time not to fuck each other over, or so I thought. I don’t remember much about Naomi back then. I’m not sure I really knew her that well at all. I knew her enough to know she’d gotten herself in trouble—dating a guy who liked to take his life’s disappointments out on her.

  John Cables was older than us but wanted to relive his youth. He trolled the high school parking lot even though he had long since graduated. Met Naomi when she was seventeen and they were a couple from that
point on. No idea what happened after I left.

  He supplied a lot of the alcohol and popped pills like Tic Tacs. If he wasn’t drunk, he was high. If he wasn’t high, he was low. If he was low, he hit Naomi. Everyone knew it except Stella. She could hang in a party scene, but she always kept an innocence about her that I tried hard to protect. I may have hit bottom, but I didn’t intend to drag her down with me.

  I scan the area, but there’s not much to see. Without streetlights, it’s hard to see jack shit in the country. She once told me she had big dreams. If I helped her, she’d make sure they came true. I don’t have to ask her how that worked out. I have a feeling a house that leans to the left with foundation problems and a car in the yard missing its tires aren’t the dreams she had in mind. But sometimes life fucks your plans up before you have a say in the matter.

  Naomi’s taller than the average girl and was born into good genes. From what I remember, she liked attention from the opposite sex even though she was taken. I couldn’t tell her the differences I see in her from then and now. I never paid that much attention to her. I remember her confidence and strong will. She could drink most guys under the table when it came to cheap tequila. Back then, holding one’s liquor earned instant respect.

  She leans against the siding of the house and twirls a few strands of dark blond hair that looks like she took the time to curl. She’s not the ingénue she likes to pretend to be, and I’m not looking for a hookup, so I avoid her batting eyelashes and just come out with my business. “I once made you a promise.”

  “I remember.”

  “I need you to free me from my word.”

  “Free you? Were you shackled to them?”

  “Yes, pretty much.”

  She smiles as she opens the screen door. “Let’s go inside and talk about it.”

  “No. I’m good.”

  “It’s a nice night, but I’m cold.” She walks inside the house.

  Although this wasn’t a part of the plan, I want to end it, and the winds have picked up outside. I go inside and let the door slam shut. She turns back with her finger to her lips. “Shh. I’ve got littles sleeping down the hall.”

  I stop just inside the living room. Wood blocks are bumped up to the toe of my shoes, cars abandoned on a broken track, dolls that are half dressed and other toys are scattered around the room. “Littles?”

  “Kids, Rivers.”

  Plural.

  Wait a minute. I give my head a shake. “You have kids?”

  “I’ve also got cold beers. Pabst Blue or Milwaukee’s Best?”

  Beer? “No. Kids? With?”

  “Well, that’s rude.”

  “I don’t mean to be. But you didn’t want kids. Wasn’t that one of the reasons you needed my help?”

  “It’s true. I didn’t, but since I had the first one, I figured what did it matter after that. Know what I mean?”

  “No, I don’t. I don’t have kids. I don’t have anything because I gave you my word not to tell a soul your secret.”

  Her head pops up from behind the fridge. “You kept your word?”

  “Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

  The fridge door is closed, and she says, “Because it’s just a word. It’s not like you were going to hell if you told someone.” What the fuck?

  “That’s just it, Naomi. I did go to hell because I couldn’t tell anyone.”

  “Oh, no no. You’re not going to blame me for your unhappiness.” Waggling her finger at me, she looks at me sideways. “What do you have to complain about? You have money. All the fame a girl could only dream about—”

  “I never wanted fame. I didn’t even wish for money. I wanted two things. To be able to play music for a living and Stella.”

  “It’s been years, and I’m still listening to the same broken record. Poor Stella.” Her upper lip curls into a snarl. “Is this really about Stella?”

  “Of course, it’s about Stella. It’s always about Stella for me.”

  She pushes her hair behind her shoulders in contempt. Disappointment or hurt feelings crash into her expression. She’s hard to read. “I thought—”

  “You thought what?”

  “I thought you wanted to see me. That maybe you missed me like I’ve missed you.” Missed her? I barely knew her.

  “Why? We weren’t that close, but you still dragged me down into your hell and then abused the little friendship we did have.”

  “You chose to help, Rivers. If you didn’t want to, you could have looked the other way like everyone else.”

  What the fuck?

  I’m not frustrated. I’m angry. At myself for letting this happen. She’s right. I should have looked the other way if my help meant so little. But I couldn’t. My mother. Stella. My brothers. Myself. Looking the other way would have meant disappointing them in another way. Looking the other way when someone needs help is not how I was raised.

  I’m struggling to understand how little she valued me and her friendship with Stella. I stepped in when she had no one else looking out for her. I helped so she could have a better chance at that life she dreamed about. “You confided in me that John would hurt you when he found out you were pregnant. That you didn’t want that connection to him and had tried to leave.”

  “I didn’t confide in you, Rivers. You’re just the only one who took the bait.”

  My stomach churns like a hurricane gaining strength. “The bait?”

  “Shh. Keep it down.” She picks up a blanket from the floor and starts folding it. “I thought you wanted to sleep with me, and I wanted John to settle down and commit to me.”

  “He hit you.”

  “Only a couple of times. He’s gotten better.”

  I’m too stunned for words. I can’t believe what I’m hearing, and the lack of any sane emotion coming from her. She’s fucking whacked out of her mind, but that doesn’t change the fact that my life was fucked because of her. “I protected this fucking secret. I lost everything because of it.”

  Angling her head, she smiles. “I knew you were noble.”

  “Noble? A fucking idiot is more like it. This was all to make your abusive boyfriend jealous? Cables fucked half your friends. That didn’t matter? All that mattered was trying to convince someone who never cared enough about you to give a shit for two seconds? Fuck me.” I turn to leave, but she grabs me.

  My head whips to the side, and a hard glare lands on her hand that’s attached to my bicep. “Step back, Naomi.”

  With a pound of arrogance in her eyes, she still backs away “Ohhh, how the mighty have fallen. Are you going to hit me?”

  “That thought right there shows how little you know me. Let’s keep it that way.”

  I head for the door, but before I reach it, she says, “You’re no better than John. You just have more money.”

  Money.

  Money.

  Money.

  Fucking money.

  Looking down, I see the band on her finger and the green line beneath it that has seeped into her skin. “You know what money can’t buy me? Morals. A clear conscience. Happiness. Guess what? It won’t buy it for you either.”

  “Go ride your high horse on out of here, Rivers. I don’t need your judgment wasted on me.”

  “I’m not judging you, Naomi. I feel sorry for you. All your dreams have come true. Be careful what you wish for and all that.”

  When I step out onto the porch, I close the screen door so it doesn’t bang against the frame. Like her, I feel sorry for these kids who will grow up with a mother who has nothing but herself to blame for the life she hates so much. I glance back once, seeing her stand in the doorway behind the screen with her arms crossed and her chin raised. The desperation in her eyes is seen on the other side of her pride.

  I almost can’t be mad at her. It’s my own fault for throwing her a life ring. She did what she learned to do way before I met her. She used her survival skills. I was just too dumb to realize she was surviving while drowning me.

  Speak o
f the devil.

  I don’t bother to catch up with John, who’s leaning against my SUV, but after unlocking the door, I turn and look him in the eyes. “You knew, didn’t you?”

  He shrugs and kicks up some dirt with the heel of his worn in boot. “I always liked you, Rivers.”

  “Apparently.”

  “Maybe next time you’re in town, we can grab a beer,” he says with a laugh that seems to indicate he doesn’t understand how this is going down. “Or maybe you can hook us up with some tickets to a show.”

  I have to force my gaze away from the blind nerve he has, but I manage. I open the door and don’t waste time where I should have never spent it in the first place.

  30

  Rivers

  Dropping the towel to the floor, I go quietly back into the bedroom after taking a shower. I needed to clear my head and wash away the anger I held on to during the drive back. That’s not what I wanted for my last night with Stella. And if I’ve learned anything over the years, holding so tight to something so negative is destructive to the potential of what could be.

  Stella went to bed while I was gone. Even though I wasn’t gone long, I’m glad she put her worries to rest instead of sitting here alone thinking about what’s going on.

  The room is dark, but she left the blinds open. I use that light to guide me. I’m not sure what’s clean in my suitcase at this point, but I have a few hours left to wash my clothes before I leave again. I walk to the open suitcase that was dumped on the floor a week ago and stop, standing over it.

  There are four short and neat stacks of folded clothes, packed and ready to go. I look back at my sleeping beauty, realizing she washed, dried, and folded my clothes. I was only traveling with a week’s worth of clothes, one load, but still. Warmth spreads through my chest as I stare at her in awe.

  There wasn’t an expectation for her to do this. It’s a load of clothes. Not monumental in the scheme of life, but it’s a big deal to me. It’s not words she’s saying. It’s her love in action. I squat down and pull a pair of boxers from a pile, knowing every time I do for the next few days, I’ll think of Stella. Maybe that’s what she wants, but deep down, I know it’s not a selfish act on her part. This was for me. This was telling me the things she can’t always say. Yet.