The announcement cuts the seated part of the dinner short as smaller conversations break off around the table. Kristin excuses herself to make a phone call and I use the physical break from the group to seek her out.
“Hey,” I say as she ends the call.
“Hey. Sorry, my mother was being nosey. She says congrats by the way.”
“Tell her I said thanks.” Kristin nods, and again, I feel something is not quite right. She is not easy around me, she is not acting like my Kristin. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” she says, shrugging. I can tell it’s an act.
“Are you sure?”
She sighs and looks around, to check if anyone else is in earshot. “Do you really want to talk here?”
“Tell me what’s wrong and I will tell you.”
“I am happy for you, I am…”
“But?”
“But, I don’t know. You want me to be honest, right? Because people say that and then when they are, people get pissed.”
“Of course I do. I’ve been honest with you.”
“Have you?”
I roll my eyes.
“Fine. I just, don’t you think it’s a little fast?” she asks.
“We’ve been together eight months.”
“No, you’ve known each other eight months.”
“Okay, so that’s what your issue is? Because I can assure you we know each other better than you can comprehend.”
“You are probably right. He seems to know far more about you than I do these days.”
“That’s not fair. And I thought you liked Taylor.”
“I do! Jesus, he’s gorgeous, rich, smart, nice as far as I can tell…what’s not to like?”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I’m just not sure I like you when you are with Taylor.”
“What?”
“You’re different. It’s like you’re hiding things; distant. You didn’t tell me why you left Rubix, then you left the country for weeks abruptly. That’s not like you. We used to share everything.”
I sigh, realizing that she’s right. I used to tell her everything, but that’s just not possible anymore. Maybe one day I can tell her about my father, but I am still trying to piece the puzzle of that mystery myself. I can never tell her about Eric, I can never tell her how Taylor and I are linked by our terrible pasts. There are parts of myself so entwined with Taylor that to reveal my deepest secrets would be to reveal his. And I can’t betray Taylor’s trust like that.
“I’m sorry. I have been going through some changes. But I am good, and I didn’t harm myself, I promise. Taylor would never have let that happen. Nor would I. It’s just that a lot of what has been going on has to do with issues in his life, and he’s very private.”
“Okay, so does this mean now that this is how it’s going to be? Because I can deal with it, I just want to know if I am losing my best friend.”
Her words hit me in the gut. I want things to be the way they were, but they aren’t. My life has changed, it has been torn to pieces and stitched back together, but it will never be what it was before. The secrets and lies are the fissures and stitch marks where there once was seamless naiveté.
“No you aren’t. Relationships change. You’ll always be my best friend, but Taylor will be my husband. And maybe one day you’ll marry Chad, and he’ll be your husband. I don’t expect you to tell me every last detail about his life, and that might mean leaving out a few things about yours. You just have to accept that life changes.”
“People change,” she says sadly.
“Everything changes. Nothing stays the same. You know, I was not happy about you involving Chad in my personal business, but I got over it. Because sometimes situations are tough on everyone. I’m not holding anything against you.”
“Seeing that you are bringing it up, maybe you are.”
“I have already told you, I didn’t appreciate Chad and you discussing my life. But I know it’s hard to be in a relationship and not tell each other those things. That’s my point. I am with Taylor, he’s the person I tell everything to, just like you do with Chad…Ugh, what am I even saying? I feel like we are going in circles. Can we just both agree that each side has been less than perfect and move on from there? I am still me. You are still you. Circumstances change and that doesn’t mean we don’t need each other.”
She nods in agreement. “Yeah…I feel like such a selfish bitch, raining on your parade.”
“The night is young. So you can make up for it.”
“Okay, if you’re happy, I am happy for you. But whatever is going on, you know I would never judge you guys.”
That’s not true, Kristin. You would never look at us the same again.
“I know. And we’re not some girls in high school anymore musing about boys. Life is so different, we should embrace these changes. I promise you, that whatever your concerns might be, I am fine. Things are good. I am marrying the man of my dreams and he and I are going to do amazing things together. You are finally the fabulous lawyer you worked so hard to become. These are really good things. I don’t want there to be negative feelings about me getting married. I was an asshole not to call you sooner. I wasn’t thinking about the people who care about me.”
“I don’t know. It was just a gut feeling I had, but if you promise me everything is really okay.”
“Everything is okay,” I insist. Well, by my standards.
“I should probably apologize to Taylor. He might have mentioned I went a little batshit.”
I smile. “He did. He learned I only select the craziest bitches as my friends.”
We both laugh, but Kristin quickly moves on to another serious topic.
“Now this is my attorney side speaking: you are getting a pre-nup, right? I know, I know, everything is roses and butterflies, but there is a lot of—“
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“See? I am sane,” I say. Kristin cracks a weak smile. “We should get back to the group, I don’t want to be rude.”
We filter back to the gang and I notice wine glass are running low. I announce that I am going to run downstairs and grab a few more bottles from the cooler. The chatty group hardly notices, though Taylor gestures at me, offering to come with, and I wave his offer off, happy to see him enjoying our friends.
I glide down the hall contently, feeling I have restored balance with Kristin. Sure, she will still have some reservations, but they will fade with time when she realizes our friendship is not under any threat and that I am truly happy.
As I round the staircase to get to my door, I am stopped dead in my tracks. Sitting on the floor in front of my door is Rick. His eyes are blood shoot, his cheeks flushed.
“Lala,” he says, trying to stand up, but he stumbles back onto the floor. That’s when I notice the bottle laying on its side on the floor just beside him.
Chapter 27
“Rick, what are you doing here?” I ask as I scurry down the stairs towards him.
“Lala, I wanna…talk…to you,” he says, pushing against the wall behind him to rise to his feet again.
As I near him, the pungent hot smell of alcohol hovers from his mouth.
“You shouldn’t be here. You really need to go.” But I know I can’t just let him leave in this condition, and I can only pray that he didn’t drive here.
“Come on, let’s go downstairs. I’m going to call you a cab.” Somehow, he came through the back of the building, but Harrison is likely out front, and he’d probably rat me out again. My bewilderment turns to panic when I think of how Taylor might react when he sees Rick here. He doesn’t know Rick like I do; all he sees is a man trying to take me away from him. To him, Rick is just a stranger.
“I came here to talk,” he says, leaning against the wall.
Just then I hear footsteps echo through the concrete stairwell and my eyes meet Kristin’s as soon as she rounds the staircase.
“Oh thank god,” I sigh.
“Hey Rick. What are you doing here?”
“I’ll catch you up later, help me take him down in the elevator. He needs to get home.”
“Can I pee?”
“There’s no time. I don’t want Taylor to know he’s here. He won’t take it well.”
“Okay…it’s like that,” Kristin replies.
“No, no, no!” Rick says, wagging his hand in the air. “You can’t marry him. You can’t.”
“Ooooh, dear,” Kristin says, putting two and two together.
“Kristin, tell her she can’t.”
“Rick!” Kristin says as though she’s speaking to a toddler. “Come on, let’s get you in the condo, we can talk on the way down the elevator. Shyla is really busy right now. Talk to me.”
“I’m not leaving until I talk to Lala.”
The coddling isn’t working, so I engage in tough love: “Rick, I will not talk to you like this. You are drunk. You cannot show up like this again. Ever. You need to go home. Let’s go. Now.”
Kristin motions to assist him and he sloppily swats her away.
“Fine Rick, I will give you five fucking minutes, but that’s only when we are downstairs waiting for the cab. That is all you will get.” My palms are sweating, my heart rate speeding, every second that Rick stays here makes it more likely that he and Taylor will have a confrontation. “We need to go!”
“I’ll call the cab!” Kristin proclaims. “You live with Peter right? I think I know his address…Jesus, I have to pee.”
“No. Don’t. I live at my mom’s.”
Footsteps again. Shit.
Taylor’s menacing shadow is unmistakable as it grows against the dim wall of the landing just above us. Now it’s his turn to round the corner to this drunken mess of a scene. I hold my breath.
He stops in his tracks.
“Taylor, wait. Before you say anything, he’s really drunk and we’re trying to get him home,” I call out.
I watch his eyes as he scans the scene in front of him: Rick drunkenly standing at his fiancée’s back door, Kristin bouncing side to side, her finger shoved into the opposite ear as she speaks to the cab dispatcher on her cell, the pleading look in my eyes for him not to overreact.
I study Taylor as the cords of neck muscles become visible when he clenches his jaw, his fingers ball up tight, his eyes intensify. This is not good. But then his chest falls as he lets out a breath. His jaw loosens, his brow softens, his fingers unravel.
Rick needs to send Kristin a bouquet of flowers tomorrow. Right now, I am convinced her presence (and the presence of the party upstairs) is the only thing halting Taylor’s wrath.
“Hello Rick. Are you okay?” he asks in his faux-polite voice, something only I can spot from knowing him so well.
“I’m here to speak with Shyla,” Rick responds, still trying to hold his ground. It’s baffling to see Rick like this. He has never been one for confrontation. Sure, he would defend himself, but right now, he is the aggressor.
Taylor calmly shuffles down the steps.
“I understand that, but you’ve had too much to drink and we have guests. This is not a good time.”
“There is no good time. You don’t own her. She’s scared of you, she won’t talk to me.”
“That’s not true!” I interject. After the conversation I just had with Kristin, the last thing I need her thinking is that Taylor is keeping me like some sort of prisoner.
“Rick, Shyla is an adult. No one can stop her from doing what she wants. She has chosen not to speak to you for the time being. And she had every right to do that. Right now, you are not respecting her boundaries.” Taylor steps in between us, putting a physical barrier between Rick and me.
“It’s ok, Taylor,” I whisper. He puts his finger up to signal that he has this.
“I have a driver who can take you home.”
“I don’t want your driver. You can’t buy me.”
“Okay, well, then we’ll get you a cab. Either way you need to go home. Now.”
Rick pushes away from the wall and stands tall, eye to eye with Taylor. He scowls at him and I don’t even recognize Rick in this moment.
“Stop it!” I yell, my voice amplified by the concrete walls of the stairwell. Kristin puts her hands on Rick’s shoulders to pull him back and he shrugs her off.
Taylor puffs up his chest ever so slightly, looking down the inch or so in height difference to Rick. While they are nearly the same height, Taylor’s posture and presence easily dominates Rick’s. Rick’s confidence comes from alcohol, but Taylor’s just is. Taylor doesn’t even appear tense or uncomfortable, which only amplifies his complete control of the situation.
Their eyes remain locked for a few tense seconds. Taylor stays firm as his gaze sucks the aggression out of Rick’s body language. This weaponless standoff has me holding my breath as Kristin and I shoot hopeless glances at each other. Taylor’s stare-down dismantles Rick’s. Rick’s facial expression dissolves into defeat, and he takes a clumsy step back.
“I’ll go. I just wanted to talk.”
“I already called a cab,” Kristin says. “It should be out there.”
“You can use the elevator from the condo,” I offer. Taylor shoots me a look of displeasure.
“I’ll take the stairs,” he says, dragging his feet past us.
“I’ll see him down,” Kristin says, giving me a reassuring look.
“I should come too,” Taylor says.
“We’ve got this,” Kristin says. I agree with her; it’s best they remain separated.
Rick and Kristin walk down the first landing and round to the next one, out of sight. And then I hear Kristin and Rick’s murmurs as I presume she asks him what the hell he was thinking.
“What was he doing here?” Taylor asks.
“I don’t know. He wanted to talk to me,” a knot builds up in my throat. Taylor doesn’t understand. He has only ever cared about me. And while I only love Taylor, at least in the way Rick wishes I would love him, I feel responsible. I thought Rick would be fine, that time would have healed him, but he seems to be getting worse.
“And then you invite him into our home?”
“Oh come on, I was just letting him access the elevator. He’s already in the building—He’s not Eric,” I whisper. “He’s just a guy who lost his girlfriend. There is no master plan.”
“What’s wrong?” Taylor asks, noticing the sad look in my eyes.
“You don’t know Rick. You never knew him. He is one of the nicest guys I have ever known. I don’t know who that was. I did that to him.”
“No. People are responsible for their own actions. What if we weren’t here?” Taylor paces along the landing.
“He wouldn’t have done anything.”
“He snuck into the building! You don’t think that is something to be concerned about!” Taylor says, whipping around. “This is after you told him to leave you alone. That is stalking. Do you understand that?”
“I said we shouldn’t speak. Yes. But I didn’t tell him to never show his face again. I mean yes, in a way I did. I don’t think that was stalking…I don’t know.”
“He’s not respecting boundaries. That is not acceptable.”
“Let’s just forget about this, okay?”
“I can’t let this happen.”
“You didn’t. You came and saved the day Taylor. You handled the situation with poise. Thank you for keeping your cool.”
“If he keeps this shit up, I don’t think I can maintain that, so don’t be too impressed.”
“Taylor, please, let me handle this. I promise, if he reappears in any way, I will tell you.”
Kristin bounds up the stairs. “He’s gone, but sweet baby jesus, I have to pee!” she says, running into the condo. It adds a hint of levity as Taylor and I snicker.
“Did he say why he wanted to talk?”
“No, but I think we can both assume. He’s not happy. I think he is desperate because the engagement really means we’re over.”
More footsteps from the rooftop. These stop short and call from above: “We’re getting thirsty…and lonely!” The one and only Henry Milan. “Everything okay down there? Or is this some horror movie where we all go downstairs one by one, only never to reemerge? Because it’s starting to look that way.”
“We’ll be up there in a minute,” Taylor responds, shaking his head.
Kristin pops back out. “Well, that was awkward.”
I shrug and contort my face. “Did he say he was living with his mom?” I ask.
“Yup.”
“I thought he was living with Pete. ”
“Yeah me too. He kept begging me to tell you he wanted to talk to you. He wasn’t making much sense. Something tells me that he won’t remember much of this tomorrow. What’s going on with him?”
“We should head back up. Henry was just bitching at us. I’ll tell you all about it.”
I look over at Taylor and he is clearly still angry at Rick’s crashing of our engagement celebration. I wonder what he would do to Rick if there were no consequences, if he didn’t have to answer to me. Now, I don’t think he would give him the Eric treatment, Taylor doesn’t just go around offing people. But he would definitely do something to make it clear to Rick that he should never show up again. Taylor could hurt him most economically. One call to Rick’s job could get him fired. What Rick did was stupid, but I need to give him time, and allowing Taylor to retaliate in any way would not be fair.
We broke Rick’s heart, and it would be cruel to try and further crush him. We deserve a little pushback from him. I got off way too easy. Now we are even.
“Kristin, can you do me a solid and grab a few bottles from the cooler? Pick whatever you want.”
“Suuure!” she says, giving me a look that tells me she knows I need another minute with Taylor.
Once the door closes behind her: “Taylor, promise me, you won’t do anything to Rick. Nothing. You have the girl, you have all the power, you don’t need to exercise it.”
Taylor sighs. “Fine. But he better not show up again.”
“Okay. Now, I have to call his mom in a few to make sure he got home okay. He was really drunk.”
unStrapped Page 23
