by Grace, Pella
“Good thing. He’s a lot better with his hands than his mouth.”
“Some might debate that,” I tease, letting go of her as she struggles to get free.
“I don’t want to know about your sex life. Lilla, it was nice to meet you. Seriously, if you want to get away from this bastard, we are just a few doors down. Have brownies, will share.”
“Damn straight you will, considering I gave you the sugar to make them.”
Hattie motions a jerking off gesture with her hand as she slips out the door.
I nod, “One can only hope.”
I close the door and walk back over to Lilla. Sitting beside her on my couch.
“I need to get going.” Her voice was so low I barely heard it. Before I can respond, there is another knock on my door. I’m going to ignore it, but it’s loud and won’t stop.
I groan, climbing to my feet, swing the door open irritably.
“Georgia, I swear to—”
Heath. Not Georgia.
“Did you get it?” he asks.
“Get what?”
“The knock! It was like Pee-wee’s knock.”
“You and fucking Pee-wee. What do you want?”
“I need a favor the size of Ron Jeremy’s cock.”
“One: I don’t look at any man’s cock. Ever. Two: I only have one favor to give each day and Georgia beat you to it. Sorry.”
I go to close the door, but his big-ass shoe prevents it from happening.
“I just need you to keep Mary company, tonight. I have a date with this chick from Stumps and Humps. Please?”
“You could have a date with the fucking Pope and I would not say yes to that Heath. It doesn’t even make sense.”
He shoves his big head as far into the door crack as he can. It’s like a baby being birthed. “Dude, why would I wanna go out with the Pope? The Pope is a dude. I mean, a really nice dude. But still.”
“Heath, I’m not going anywhere near Mary unless it requires me showing her how to ring on a register. That is the point.”
His face wiggles further into the crack, making his lips push out like a fish.
“I am begging you with all of my Heathy-soul. Cherry said she’d only go out with me if someone else was there, too. I’ll pay for everything. Free beer, dude. Come on, she’s paranoid because she works around horny dudes all day trying to get her humps. Then, of course, there’s the whole stumping thing. But … Please? Please? Please?”
“Fuck, will you go away if I say yes?”
“Yes! Pick you up at seven. Thanks, Cash!”
He goes running before I can change my mind. I turn back around to see Lilla has cleaned up all of her papers and is walking towards me. I close the door and place my back against it, arms blocking her path.
“Where do you think you’re going, Honey-girl?”
“I have … plans. Remember?”
I push off the door, leading her towards the kitchen.
“But I have a freezer full of ice cream.” I tug open the door. “I even have Schweddy Balls. Schweddy Balls just for you Lilla. The Lilla I love.”
She smiles, but, “Maybe Mary can lick your Schweddy Balls.”
“Making sex jokes in my kitchen.” I slam the freezer door dramatically. “You. Go. Nowhere.”
Lilla laughs, but her feet start moving. I wrap my arms around her from behind, walking clumsily toward the door, our mismatched height working against us.
“You smell like an angel. Have I ever told you that?”
“It’s the perfume, jerk.”
“Fragrances dance with your chemistry. This one favors you. I wonder why.” I spin her towards me, cupping her face in my hand. “Oh right.”
“Not very nice to be so charming while you have a girl waiting in the wings.”
“Who?”
Her eyes roll. “Mary.”
“Who is that?”
“Nice try.” She pulls out of my grasp. Tugs on the door. Steps to the hallway.
“I’d light Mary on fire if it meant you’d stay.” I lean closer to her, arms on the doorframe.
“So romantic, but sadly, that wouldn’t help me wiggle out of my own plans.”
“I could bring two matches.”
“Cash,” she closes the space between us. “I love you, but no.”
I’m lowering my voice to dance slowly with those words, “Knew you’d see things my way.”
A soft kiss on my cheek. Three big steps backwards. But no. She isn’t running tonight. Adam doesn’t get a fair fight. I’m about to remind her why she’s here in the first place. I take her hand and pull her the way she should be going.
“Warren, I really have to go.”
“Five seconds. Don’t think.”
Trustfully she follows me back into the apartment. Paused before the balcony doors, I kiss her hand.
“You’re my Eden.”
And I tug the door to let her see. She’s still the girl expecting a trick as she steps out on the deck. Even though the proof is surrounding. A miniature universe of glazed pottery and outside-the-box thoughts overtake the twenty-five square feet I used to waste with a plastic chair that offered nothing but a place to smoke alone.
You’d think I’d shown her the real Eden, the way she stares and is afraid to touch the leaves beyond a whisper’s brush.
Lilla turns to me. “It’s so beautiful. You did all of this?”
“I already told you, Lilla, I love you.”
She comes to me, putting her arms tightly around my shoulders. A part of me doesn’t want to hold on to her. I want to love her enough to let go and not burden this already too-kept-heart. But, I have no choice in the matter as she searches for my mouth with hers. The warmth of the sleepy sun on her hair and skin pressed against me. I could see God. This is truly my Eden as I pick her up and take her away. As I lay her in the claim of my bed and know Adam doesn’t have a chance at victory or revival. Not because I’m that good, just because he’s that bad. I could never imagine her looking at him like how she stares up at me, and I know damned well there’s no chance in Heaven or Hell he would ever stare back at her with this flame I hold.
Lilla told me the day of the art fair that I never loved anyone. And it wasn’t until this slow, caress of time between us that I understand fully what she means. Measured strokes of her cheek with my finger as she slides her hands under my shirt, the flat of her palm against where I beat for her above all else. Never a plea to hurry because she will be late, only to take away my shirt because she wants more of me. Her mouth is slow along my shoulder. Her hands gentle as they trace the map of my form.
And this is where we truly fall. This is where a new line is drawn.
***
Fourteen. Thirty.
Mary has touched me fourteen times over the course of thirty minutes. I’m glaring at Heath with all the hatred I can muster. I am not on his radar—eyes glued to Cherry.
“I don’t get why they call it Humps and Stumps. Are the waitresses amputees or something?” That is probably going to be the best thing Mary says all night.
Cherry has a good stink-face. I’ll give her that much.
“No. Do I look fucking amputated to you? It’s like stump the waitress—you know—because we’re all blonde, big tits and men think that equals not having a brain? If they stump us, they get a free appetizer. I think the humps part is pretty self-explanatory.”
Her arms squeeze her boobs together.
Heath’s smile has never been wider.
I roll my eyes.
“How many wives did Henry the Eighth have?” I challenge.
She looks at me. “What?”
“Nope. Six.”
“I’m not working, buffoon.”
“Too bad. I was trying to get Heath a free appetizer.”
“Actually,” he chimes in, scooting closer to her. “I’m more interested in having dessert.”
She swats his arm away. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to go out with you.”
> “Aw, I’m just teasing. Sorry, I’ll keep my Heathy hands to myself.”
“And stop calling yourself that.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, “not even getting any pussy and you’re already whipped by it.”
Cherry pushes away from the table. “I’m going to the restroom.”
I look to Mary. “You should go with her. Maybe between the two of you, finding the way there and back won’t be so difficult.”
“Okay.” She hops up and I just want to climb under the table in the fetal position. She follows Cherry like a lost puppy.
“I’m seriously contemplating murdering you with the butter knife, Heath.”
“Just play it cool,” he kicks back, arm over the booth. “I think she’s warming up to me.”
“Yeah, I’m totally getting that vibe. You know, I could be up to my eyeballs in Lilla King, right now, not babysitting you.”
“You’re still banging that chick?”
“We’re working together, actually.”
“She got a job at the store? The fuck when?”
“No. We were linked up on some project one of my clients offered to me. Lilla is doing the ad campaign.”
“Well, shit, you should have told me. You could have brought Lilla, tonight.”
“And Mary?”
“I was just randomly choosing her. It could have been anyone.”
“The shit, Heath? That information would have been useful—oh, I don’t know—when you came to my house and Lilla was there.”
He shrugs. “You could have said something.”
I wave him off, irritated beyond all fucking reason.
“She had plans, anyhow.”
“Eh, Mary isn’t so bad. She could be cute if she’d just shut up.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I will never fuck Mary. Ever.”
“I’d do her. Probably from behind, though. Maybe with a bag over her head. I don’t think I could keep a straight face if I had to look at her.”
“What about Cherry?”
“Oh, I’d have her up close and personal, my friend.”
***
Because Heath is working on being the worst best friend of all time—I have been dragged to the movies. Forced to endure an additional ninety minutes next to Mary. The girl talks non-stop. About everything. Nothing. And to top it off—I’m now paying for her movie ticket and popcorn. Soda. Candy.
“I have to pee.” Cherry tugs Mary’s arm to go along with her.
Now I’m stuck holding onto all this shit. Waiting. Heath places his shit on the counter.
“I gotta piss too, man. Watch my stuff?”
Now I’m watching his shit, holding a buffet and waiting for three idiots to pee. Did anyone ask if I had to pee? I have needs too, damn it. For a moment I consider leaving all this shit and walking right out the door.
And it’s then … eyes looking towards the entrance of the theater … my whole world stops.
Lilla.
She’s sitting along the red metal benches inside of the lobby. Legs crossed. Hands cupping her cellphone. Hair straight, soft. A pink dress that causes her to fidget stupidly. Her toes match her fingernails and her fingernails match the tiny pink bow pinning her bangs away from her face.
My first instinct is to look for where Adam is. The bathroom, maybe. Why would she be sitting all the way over there, though?
Staring out the doors?
She’s … waiting. Same way she looked when she sat on my car. Bored. Looks to her phone. Back to the doors.
“Ready?” Mary pops up behind me, taking her drink from my hand.
“I have to piss.” I hand her the food. “Just go in with Heath and Cherry. I’ll find you.”
“I’ll get us a good seat, Lover.”
I nod, walking towards the bathroom, pausing as she walks the opposite direction. I peek around the corner, spying on Lilla for a few more minutes.
I watch as she plays on her phone, glancing towards the doors every so often. Shoulders slumped and I swear to God, I want to knock the shit out of someone.
***
You know when you get a head cold and your brain feels like it’s gonna start pooling out of your ears? Everything sort of echoes and sounds way louder than normal? That would be what sitting next to Mary during a movie feels like. I can’t even follow what is going on. She comments over all the good shit, asks me questions during the scenes explaining the plot and again with the touching.
I don’t want to be a dick. I just want to be left alone. I should have squashed Heath in my doorway. I should have shut the door on his face.
“What is going on?” she asks. “I can’t follow this movie at all.”
“I wonder why.”
“They need better writers in Hollywood. This movie is dumb. Hey, can you get me a refill? My drink is all gone, Lover.”
I snatch the cup from her hand. “Gladly.”
I don’t give a shit what Heath has to say when I see him at work—I’m leaving. I’m walking right out the doors, lighting up a smoke and then, I’m gonna keep walking. I’ll fake an illness when I run into Mary next. But, I’m leaving.
The cup is chucked in the trashcan and I pull my pack of cigarettes out, sticking one in my mouth and patting my pockets for my lighter as I stroll to the doors. The lobby is quiet and I am ten feet from freedom, until:
“Motherfucker.”
I pull the cigarette from my lips and tuck it behind my ear. My feet move slowly, trying not to startle her as she sits on the bench—fifty minutes since I last saw her—still playing on her phone. Life gone. Deflated.
My legs scrunch beneath myself as I kneel down in front of her. She blinks away from her phone, narrowing her eyes as she realizes it’s me. I keep my voice low, trying to control how pissed off I am that Adam let her down.
“He’s an asshole, Lilla.”
The guard goes up, per usual. “He’s just running—”
“I saw you sitting here when I first got here. That was almost an hour ago. I saw you toying with your phone. Did you call him? Did he answer? Did he even let you know how long he’d be or why the fuck he left you here by yourself? I’m guessing by the expression on your face and the tears I see in your eyes, that answer is no.”
I lean towards her, placing my hands on her bare knees.
“Adam might be the best provider who ever lived and the greatest neighbor or co-worker or whatever, but he’s a shitty husband. I might only be twenty-four, Lilla, but I know how to love someone. And I know that because I was really hoping you had a good time with him tonight.
“I really hoped you’d get what you were looking for, because, I’d rather see someone I love happy with someone else, than sitting here crying because he’s not here. Love is unselfish. But Adam—Adam has to be the most selfish motherfucker I have ever had the displeasure of not knowing.”
The black runs down her rosy cheeks as my words ring true.
“Hey,” I touch her chin, then my shoulder, “this is yours, remember?”
Lilla leans into me, resting her head against my shoulder to cry. I hold her as securely as I can without hurting her, smoothing my hands down her soft hair as she unfolds, resting inside of my arms.
And I swear to you, I feel my heart break alongside hers.
There was a way in which my father used to hold Poppy, whenever shit was bad—not like he fucked up and told her she looked fat when she didn’t—not that type of thing. No. When their child after me never got to be born. When they tried again and again and again but God never got back to them on those prayers.
That type of shit.
When I broke my arm being an asshole as a kid and she thought I was going to die. That type of shit.
When my grandfather really did die. That type of shit.
You don’t speak. You don’t try to fix. You just cling. You just allow your clothes to become a snotty dirty place and you keep your thoughts to your fucking self. Steady and silent. Strong and just there. I’m just here. I�
��m just the shoulder and the arms.
They are just the glue, holding together the pieces of a beautiful broken girl.
“Lilla?”
My eyes close for one brief moment, hearing her name called from behind. The stiffness in her form and abrupt pause of her cries confirms it is him.
I pull her to her feet, keeping a secure hold.
“Let’s go,” I whisper, turning to the double-doors.
“Are you hurt? What is wrong—” Adam goes to reach for her, but I block his path. He appraises me, not recognizing where he has seen me countless times before. “Excuse me, but that’s my wife.”
“I’m aware.” I allow my words to simmer for a moment. “And to answer you, yes, she’s hurt. But of course, you might have known that, if you had bothered to call her.”
“Do I know you?”
“If you did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation quite so casually.”
Adam blinks, looking to Lilla. “I’m sorry I got hung up at a meeting in—”
“You know, sorry to interrupt, but Lilla and I were actually on our way out. So, perhaps you could work on that lame apology and get back to her later.”
“Okay kid, you’re starting to piss me off. Let go of my wife.”
The way he keeps saying it. Like she’s a piece of property. It makes my skin crawl. Not to mention, if I was Adam, I would have knocked the shit out of me by now. He isn’t even shoving me. Not even trying to act like he’s gonna kick my ass or take back his wife.
I ignore his words like he ignores her heart.
“For starters, you probably should have been on your knees the moment you saw her. I mean, shit, I wasn’t even the one who hurt her and I was on my knees. Seems only right, no?”
He tries to reach around me, but I side-step.
“You know when I was a kid, my mother used to tell me to watch where I left the things that I loved, because someone might come along and steal them if I didn’t. Perhaps your mother should have told you the same.”
I gather Lilla’s hand into mine and go towards the doors. Her arm isn’t being tugged or pulled. She is moving on her accord. I feel like a cock for saying things.
“Lil, we need to talk. This is craziness. You’re just going to what—leave with this kid? Honestly? You’re being absurd.”
