I forced myself to go out there and put on a happy face.
“Hi guys!” I said as I slid open the door.
“Hi Ian,” Mom said. I kissed her cheek.
“Hey buddy,” my dad said, getting up to give me a hug. I sat down at the table with them and said, “So what’s up?”
Mom and Dad looked at each other and something passed between them. Finally they both looked at me and Mom said, “We’re going to sell the house.”
“What? Why?”
Dad looked at me with sad eyes and said, “Because neither of us can stand to be here any longer, Ian. There are too many memories…it’s too painful. Your mother thinks this is the solution.”
I could tell by the way he’d said that, he wasn’t too sure. “So you’re going to sell it? You’re just going to get rid of the memories of my sister’s childhood…and I know this doesn’t matter to anyone, but mine too?”
“Oh Ian, honey please don’t say that. Of course yours matter too.” Mom was getting tears in her eyes and Dad looked like someone was shoving needles in his body over and over. I felt bad for them both, but I was pissed. Mom went on.
“It just hurts so much to be surrounded by the memories day in and day out. Everything here reminds us of her. It’s not that we want to forget her honey…it’s just that neither of us seems to be able to get past this grief. We can’t move on. We’re just stuck. We were hoping if we sold the house and started over, we could take her memories with us, but we wouldn’t be surrounded by them. I know this has been your home your whole life too. Of course we thought about you. We haven’t even talked to a realtor yet. We wanted to talk to you first.”
“So you’d sell it, and then what? Where would you go and start over?”
“We were thinking maybe an apartment in the city. Dad’s work is there anyways and I could find lots to do to keep me busy…Please don’t be angry, Ian,” Mom’s voice cracked.
“I’m not angry. I’m just…confused, I guess. I know that you need to be able to move on …and I want that, for both of you. But…”
“It feels like we’re running away.”
Dad hit the nail on the head. It felt like they were running away. As stupid as it sounded, it felt like they were abandoning me. “I guess it feels that way because we are,” he said. He gave my mother another sideways glance and said, “We went to a grief support group last week and when we mentioned that we’d thought about doing this, the response was overwhelmingly negative.” I suddenly knew this was entirely Mom’s decision, not his. He was going along with it for her peace of mind, I guess. I was just afraid they’d go through with it and not find the peace they were looking for.
“Why was the response negative?” I asked. I’d never lost a child, but the people at this group my parents went to have. It would stand to reason that they’d know a lot more about it.
“They say that a lot of people do it, thinking it’s going to help, and it doesn’t,” Mom said. Then she looked at me with those sad blue eyes and said, “But Ian, we’ve tried everything else.” She glanced back at my father again. He wasn’t looking at either one of us but he started talking again,
“They also talked about the siblings,” he said, looking at me finally. “They talked about how your own grief overwhelms you so much that a grieving parent tends to forget that their children are grieving too. I think we’ve done this to you and we feel so badly about it. I’m worried that you’re going to look at this as another way we’re leaving you behind.”
“That’s not it!” Mom said, crying again, “I just can’t stand another day sitting in this house thinking that it’s always going to be this way.” I pulled my chair over closer and hugged her. I could see my father out of the corner of my eye. He looked so broken. God, I hate this.
I held my mom and let this all run through my head and then I said, “I’m going to say this and then you two can do whatever it is you think is right. I love you both too, and I know you love me. I know that being around Emma was like breathing life itself in, and it’s hard to breathe without her around. She wasn’t my child, so maybe what I’m feeling is different…but the way that I’ve been able to cope and get out of bed each day since this happened was by hanging on to the memories. I need to say her name out loud and tell stories about her. Alexa and I have spent a lot of time together talking about her. It makes losing her feel less final. I know the two of you remember her every second…but you don’t talk about her. Like I said, she wasn’t my child so I could be wrong…but I don’t see that getting rid of the memories…the very things that are keeping her alive is going to help.”
“I feel the same,” my father said. Mom started crying again and I spent a really long time just holding her and letting her cry. By the time I left, over an hour later, they were at least talking to each other about exploring some other options before they made such a huge decision.
I hate this shit and every time I feel this way the only thing I want besides my sister back is to talk to Alexa. Now I’ve screwed that up and I didn’t know what to do with all of the emotions. I got in the car and just sat there for a while. Then, I looked at the phone and as badly as it worked out the last time, I actually read Kristie’s message.
“Ian. I’m sorry I showed up without calling the other night. I understand we’re not together, but can’t we still be friends?”
On impulse, like I seemed to be doing everything lately I texted her back, “Yes. We can be friends. I could use one today.”
Almost immediately she responded, “Are you at home?”
“Heading there now.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Damn it! What the hell is wrong with me? I glanced up at my parents’ house and I made a mental list: My sister is dead. The girl I thought I might be falling for is out of my life. My parents are selling the only real home I’ve ever known and all of my sister’s memories…Kristie is willing to be there for me. I can’t stand the thought of being alone right now.
I put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway. I gave the house one more glance. I saw the image of my sister, playing soccer in the front yard when she was seven and she decided she wanted to be Mia Hamm. As crazy as it sounds, I waved at her. She waved back with that big, classic, Emma smile. I let the tears overwhelm me and I cried all the way back to my apartment.
I saw Kristie’s car as I got close to the parking lot so I circled the block once and cleaned up my face. When I finally pulled into the lot, she got out of her car and came over to meet me.
“How are you doing?” she said. She sounded sincere, or I wanted to believe that she was.
“Up and down,” I told her. She hugged me and my first thought was how much better it would feel to hug Alexa.
“You want to go get a drink or something?” she said.
“No. I have a fight tomorrow. I don’t drink before a fight. It gets me all bloated.”
“Okay. Maybe I could just hang out with you for a while then?”
“Yeah, okay.”
Why I didn’t just say no? Why had I texted her back in the first place…I had no idea. I put myself into these situations. I guess the drama distracted me maybe from the grief. She followed me up to the apartment and we went inside. I got us both a bottle of water and we sat down on the couch. It was uncomfortable. I had no idea what to say to her.
“Ian?” she said.
“Yeah?”
“I know things have been bad between us lately, but I am really sorry about what you’re going through. I wish you would let me help.”
“I appreciate that,” I told her, “but I’m not sure how you can.”
“You need a friend…”
Reality washed over me and I said, “We never really were friends, Kristie. We were lovers…at best.” She looked hurt and I felt bad, but it was the truth. That was the big difference between her and Alexa. I really felt like Alexa was my friend, not just because she was Emma’s friend, but because she and I legitimately had
a lot in common.
“I don’t remember it that way,” she said. “We did a lot of other things besides sex. The sex was fantastic.” She looked at me as if looking for confirmation. I kept my face neutral. Once again I was thinking, “Not like it is with Alexa.”
“But we did other things.”
I finally nodded. If that’s how she wanted to remember it, I guess it didn’t really hurt anything and it made her feel better. It was at that moment it dawned on me that as crazy as I accused her of being…maybe a lot of it was my fault. How many times have I texted her lately because I was desperate for company, only to end up telling her to get lost?
“Hey Kristie,” I said.
“Yeah?”
“I think I owe you a really big apology.”
“For what?”
“All of this back and forth stuff. It’s not fair. I tell you we’re over and I tell you to leave me alone and then I call you and tell you to come over. It has to be confusing. I’m sorry.”
She looked surprised and it made me feel even worse to think my apology would shock her.
“It is confusing,” she said. “But it’s okay. I know you’ve been through so much and I understand that you’re confused yourself. You’re spending time with that…the redhead. She was a friend of Emma’s right?”
“Yeah. Her name is Alexa.”
“I’m sure it makes you feel closer to Emma to be with one of her friends…but when you have that out of your system, I want you to know that I’ll still be here for you.”
“Being with Alexa started out about Emma,” I told her, “but since I’m telling you the truth here, I have to tell you that it’s not about Emma anymore. I really like her…”
“Then why isn’t she here with you? Why did you text me?”
“Honestly? Because I’m an ass. I keep telling you that we’re over and then I get upset or lonely and I text you back. It’s wrong of me.” I set the water down and stood up. “I’m sorry, Kristie. My head has been so screwed up. The truth is that we both know this is not going anywhere, and I need to stop doing this to you…and to myself.”
She stayed where she was on the couch.
Looking up at me, she said, “Seriously? You’re kicking me out, again?”
“This was just a bad idea and I’m really sorry. My head has been really screwed up lately and I don’t have any right to do this to you…”
She stood up then and pressed her lips to mine. It felt foreign to be kissing her, and wrong. It wasn’t only because I wanted Alexa so badly…it was because I knew if I kissed her back…if I had sex with her, I’d be using her. I also know that I’d be perpetuating her obsession. I needed to put a stop to this, once and for all. I took her arms and gently held her back.
“Kristie, you need to go, okay? We just need to make a clean break here. I won’t do this to you again.” She tried to come towards me again. She had a hell of a time with being rejected. I held her back and used my hold on her to point her towards the door. Then out of guilt, I apologized again and said, “One of these days, you’ll find someone that makes you happy. But not if you keep hanging around waiting for things to work out with me.” She didn’t say anything. She just looked at me with hurt in her eyes and left. It was the second time in two days that I’d made a woman feel like shit. I was on a roll.
Chapter Seven
Alexa
The next day I went online and did a little job searching. I filled out a few applications, but my heart wasn’t really into it. I kept checking my phone every five minutes to see if I’d missed a call or a text. By that evening I still hadn’t heard from Ian. Dad got home when I was getting ready for the fight. I lied and told him I was going to meet Heather. I wasn’t in the habit of lying to my father, really. But until I knew where Ian and I stood, I didn’t want to talk to him and let his opinions…all negative, I’m sure, seep into my brain and influence my decisions.
I went to the fight and sat in my seat again near the back and waited. I had that tickle in my belly that I always got when I knew I was going to see him. I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle it if this thing between us was really over. I’d gotten even more attached than I had let myself admit. I even really liked this fight stuff, which was weird. I’d started using fight terms as analogies. For example, when he walked away from me yesterday, I felt like he had punched me in the gut.
I heard the crowd roar and everyone got to their feet as Ian made his way down the aisle. I stood up too, feeling the butterflies in my stomach take flight at the sight of him. People were chanting his name over and over. He looked almost oblivious to it and sadly, it reminded me again of yesterday and how oblivious he had been to my pleas.
My heart was beating hard like it always did when he took his place in the octagon. It was a mixture of fear of him getting hurt and excitement at watching him win. Even from back as far as I was sitting, the determination on his face was apparent. His name was still rolling off the announcer’s tongue as he turned and raised his hand in the air towards the crowd. He was confident and I thought that was so sexy. I could see the way he was focused on only the fight in the set of his jaw and I watched as he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then open them at the sound of the bell.
Ian and his opponent, a guy named Bustin’ Billy, came to the center of the ring. The referee did his talk and they hit fists and separated…until the bell rang. As Ian came out towards Billy, I couldn’t help but look at his chiseled abs and chest and remember the last time I got to trace the muscles with my hands. I wanted to do it again…right now. The two men were circling each other, fists up…Ian’s eyes looked like a predator’s and I thought if I was Billy, I’d be very afraid.
Ian struck suddenly without warning, his fist connecting against Billy’s midriff. His punches were solid and quick and in rapid succession. Billy’s fist came up after the third punch and headed for the side of Ian’s face, but Ian moved in time for it to fly right by and returned almost immediately with a right to Billy’s stomach that doubled him over. A left hook while he was bent in half sent him sprawling onto the canvas floor.
Billy rolled away as Ian pounced and they wrestled around on the floor for a while, both men failing to get the upper hand. When the buzzer rang the referee had to urge them apart. It was the first one of Ian’s fights I’d ever watched where it seemed like there was something personal between him his opponent.
Ian’s trainer was on one knee talking to him furiously. Whatever he was saying, it didn’t look like Ian was listening. He looked like he just couldn’t wait for the bell to ring again. When it did he jogged out, right into Billy’s fist. His head flew back, but before Billy could even get off another swing Ian threw out a jab that landed hard on Billy’s chin. When his head was back, Ian went for his ribs. He landed one hard punch to Billy’s side before the other man managed to get away. Ian tried to land a roundhouse kick next, but Billy spun back and threw his massive arm out and connected with Ian’s legs, knocking him down. Ian went down hard on his back and Billy jumped on him, trying to pin him. Ian was able to bring his legs up and get ahold of Billy in a scissor hold and flip him off. Billy was quick; I had to give him that. He scrambled to his feet before Ian got up and he was ready for a thunderous right cross that landed on the side of Ian’s face. Ian barely flinched and came back at him with a series of punches and jabs, not stopping until he had him backed against the mesh and the buzzer sounded for the end of round two.
I watched as his trainer put a towel across Ian’s shoulders and handed him his drink. Ian squeezed whatever it was into his mouth and the trainer started talking again. Once again, Ian seemed to be ignoring him. I felt better…maybe it wasn’t just me.
Ian came out on the third round looking like he just wanted to finish this. Billy threw a jab at him and he dodged it, coming back with a thunderous hook into his opponent’s midriff. Billy’s grunt was audible but he didn’t go down. He tried getting off his own hook but before he did, Ian snapped back with a
jab that landed directly in the center of his face and an immediate uppercut which did knock him to the floor on his back. Ian waited and as soon as Billy rolled over to try and push himself up, he pounced down on him and wrapped his arm around Billy’s neck. He pulled up and Billy struggled with him for almost a full minute before he had to concede defeat. He raised his hand and let it drop, twice. Ian got up and stood there, breathing hard and waiting. The referee checked on Billy and then let his trainer help him get up and go back to his side of the cage before turning to Ian and holding up his arm. He won. Again. I was impressed as usual and full of adrenaline myself and selfishly happy because I thought that would also mean he would be in a good mood and he would talk to me. I was wrong.
I got up before he started down the aisle and I waited near the door he always disappears through in the back. He was smiling as he came out of the octagon and on the way down the aisle, he even high-fived a few guys and signed an autograph…and then he saw me and he stopped. I mean, literally stopped…dead in his tracks. People started crowding around him and I think he realized that he couldn’t just stand there so he came my way again and when he got there, he reached for the door…like he was just going to walk right past me.
“Ian…”
“What are you doing here, Alexa?” It was a knife straight through the heart.
“I came to watch you fight. I’d really like to talk to you too.”
“I have an interview after this. I need to hit the shower. I don’t have time for this Alexa.”
“Make time,” I told him, getting pissed off now. “I’m not leaving until you agree to talk to me.”
Dirty Boss_The Maxwell Family Page 43
