Uninvolved

by Carey Heywood

  Becka sucked her lips into her mouth and chewed on them, nodding at him. She felt tears brimming, and if she spoke Becka, was pretty sure she would lose it. She didn’t want to be pathetic, but it was hard not to. Dave had known her long enough to read her expression. He also knew if he acknowledged it in any way that she would cry, and since Becka was doing her best not to, he changed the subject.

  "I spoke to my mom yesterday, and they want to come out and visit us in two weeks. You know she likes you more than me so rest up."

  Dave's mom had always wanted a daughter and, seeing as how she only had a son, she had figuratively adopted Becka years ago. Whenever Mrs. Logan came into town, she went nuts with Becka. Shopping, movies, and getting their hair and nails done were probably all on the agenda. Becka loved being spoiled, so this news was perfect to cheer her up.

  #

  Mr. and Mrs. Logan were set to arrive that afternoon. Becka was looking forward to seeing them both but was otherwise annoyed. Most times, Becka could lie to herself about the last time Nate called, wrote, or came over to see her. This time, since Becka and Dave had been counting down until his parents came, she knew exactly how long it had been. What bothered Becka most of all was some part of her had hoped that since this was the first time she had woken up to Nate at her house that it was a sign that things were going to change.

  Like an idiot, over and over again, Becka thought that Nate was going to want to see her regularly. She hated how it made her feel. If he only understood how important he was to her. All his actions proved to her was he considered her a fun diversion from time to time. Without Becka sounding crazy, how could she attempt to tell Nate that, every time her phone rang, she hoped it was him. And every time it wasn’t him, it made her sad.

  Becka was driving home from work. The plan was that Dave's folks would be there by the time she got home. It was Friday, and Dave had taken some vacation time and would not be working for the next four days. They were all going to go out for dinner and maybe for drinks afterward. Becka was surprised when she got home to see that their car was not there.

  "Dave, you home?" Becka dropped her purse and keys on the table by the door.

  "I'm in my room," came a muffled response.

  Becka walked over to his door and, leaning on the jam, peered in. Dave was doing some last minute cleaning. It's funny how no matter how old you get, you always feel like kids to your parents, thought Becka. Dave's normally cluttered and dark room was clean and bright.

  "Amazing how much light you get in here if you actually open your shades." Becka raised her eyebrows at him.

  "Shocking. Open shades let in light. Thank you so much for your pearls of wisdom, oh wise one."

  "What crawled up your ass and died?"

  Dave was always sarcastic but his tone was way harsher than normal.

  "I'm just stressed about my folks coming."

  "Why? They're awesome."

  "Let's see. They are totally going to give me shit the whole time about what a crappy job I have and why I can’t meet a nice girl and get settled down."

  "You never told me they didn’t like your job."

  "Yeah, well, I guess no parent wants to brag about their college-degree-having son working at a grocery store."

  "Have they ever actually said that?"

  "Of course not. At least not out right. It's always ‘Still working nights? Why not try to find a job with normal hours?’"

  "That doesn’t sound like they dislike your job. It only sounds like they wished you worked during the day."

  "But that's the whole point, Becks. My job is only at night."

  "Okay, I get it. Are you happy with your job?"

  "It's a job, Becks. Not a hobby. I'm only there for the paycheck."

  "Fine, whatever. I was just asking. Either way, stop being stressed because your folks are cool and only want what's best for you."

  Dave picked up his laundry basket, and Becka moved out of the way as he headed towards the garage. Flopping down onto the sofa, Becka checked the time on her phone. It was 5:30. She wondered if his folks hit traffic and if she should make a snack in the meantime. Her thoughts were interrupted with a knock on the door.

  "Becka!" Mrs. Logan boomed as she pulled Becka into a tight hug.

  "Hi, Mr. Logan." Becka smiled over Claire's shoulder.

  Mr. Logan had two rolling suitcases behind him, and after Mrs. Logan released her and Becka gave Mr. Logan a kiss on the check, she directed him towards Dave's room with their bags.

  "It is so good to see you." Mrs. Logan beamed at her.

  "Where's Dave?" Mr. Logan asked, walking out of the bedroom.

  "I think he's starting a load of laundry."

  "He isn’t trying to con you into doing it for him anymore?" Mrs. Logan joked.

  "Nope. I'm still stuck with the dishwasher, though."

  "That boy. Oh, there he is. David, come give your mother a kiss."

  Dave, who was never much of a hugger, grudgingly came over. Dave's parents were going to be staying in his room for their visit, and he would be crashing on the couch. They all went out to dinner as planned. Becka paid special attention to see if anything about Dave's job was discussed, but it wasn't, and Dave seemed so much more relaxed.

  After dinner, they drove back to the house but only to drop off the car. They all ended up walking over to Dave's favorite dive bar. Mr. Logan and Dave played darts while Mrs. Logan and Becka went over the game plan for the next day. First, they would head over to the mall and do some holiday shopping and after that, mani-pedis. This was all standard fare for her visits. The next request, however threw, Becka.

  Chapter 17

  "I want to get a tattoo, Becka."

  "Um, is Mr. Logan cool with that?"

  "Of course he is, dear, not that he decides what I can or can't do."

  "Hell yeah. I'll take you to get a tattoo. Does Dave know? I'm sure he'd want to come."

  "I haven’t talked to him about it, but he can come if he wants."

  "Have you already picked out what you want to get? Oh, and where do you want it? This is so cool. Go, Mrs. Logan!"

  "Call me Claire, sweetie. I have a picture. Here, it's in my purse.” She undid the clasp of her purse and began rummaging through it. “Let me… It should be right—it is just so dark in—oh, here it is."

  Mrs. Logan produced an index card-sized piece of paper with a picture of a parrot and a margarita. She was a big Jimmy Buffett fan.

  "What do you think?"

  "I love it. Hey, you didn’t tell me where you want it."

  "I was thinking either on my calf or my shoulder. Which do you think is better?"

  "Uh, I would do shoulder."

  Dave was a little weirded out by the idea of his mother getting a tattoo but only because it would conflict with his philosophy that chicks with tattoos were hot. Kinda gross when your mom has one, he said. Either way Dave was supportive and wanted to go with Mrs. Logan as well.

  Dave already had a couple of tattoos and used the opportunity of his mother getting one to get another. Becka took a couple of pictures of the two of them side by side getting their tattoos to post to Facebook. Dave's new tattoo was a tribal dragon, and he got it on his left peck. Looked pretty sexy, Becka had to admit, watching him get it.

  Becka had always thought about getting a tattoo herself but could never decide what would be important enough to put on her body permanently. She thought they were sexy on other people. It made her think of Kyle and his Celtic tattoo. Becka always felt a bit guilty when she thought of Kyle. God, she had been an asshole to him.

  The rest of Dave's parents’ visit was uneventful. Becka was sad to see them go but happy to have a house empty of guests again. She had felt like she always had to entertain them, even when Becka just wanted lay down or take a bath. Which is exactly what she did once they left. She had a long hot bath, and then she lay down in her room to read a book until she went to bed.

  At work, when someone remarked that they had
been live as a team for two months, it hit Becka that, other than a random text, she had not heard from Nate in a long time. Again. Becka wondered if he had a schedule, like a little phone alarm that went off every couple of months with a reminder to fuck with her head. Becka still was not going out as much as she used to. Part of her was just tired of the whole scene. Becka was officially becoming a homebody. There were two perks to staying home: less chance she would run into Kyle or Nate. Not that Becka would not have loved to see Nate. She just wanted him to come to her and not just for, well, whatever she was to him.

  Her feelings for Nate were a contradiction. The main reason she was doing her best to avoid him was pure self-preservation. He was an addiction to her, and if she could keep her distance long enough maybe, just maybe, she could move past the power he seemed to have over her. The universe had different plans, though. It was almost like he could sense she was so close to breaking herself of his habit, so he called.

  "Hey, kid."

  "Hi, Nate."

  "What's wrong? You okay?"

  "What do you want, Nate?"

  "I want to see you."

  "Why?"

  "You know why."

  "I just don’t think it's a good idea."

  "You don’t want to see me?"

  God, she hated him. Of course she wanted to see him. She wanted to feel his arms around her and his lips on her. Becka wanted to lose herself in his beautiful hazel eyes again and again. It was the next day when he would leave again, and she would have no idea of when she would hear from him again. That is what she did not want.

  "Becka?"

  "I just can't do this, Nate."

  "I see."

  "I should go."

  "Wait."

  "What?"

  "Are you sure?"

  "You are killing me." She sighed.

  "You know you love it."

  "It doesn't change anything."

  "This is who I am."

  "When we met, you had a girlfriend."

  "Yes, and that is why I am certain I do not want another one."

  "Thanks."

  "That's not how I meant it. It's just that it's my birth—"

  Becka was so upset she hung up on him before realizing what he was saying. It was his birthday, and he had wanted to see her. Nate called back right away, but she sent it to voicemail. To get over him, she needed to stop seeing and talking to him. She waited a minute to see if he had left a message, but he hadn’t. Becka looked at her calendar. It was December 1st.

  Don’t feel sorry for him, Becka told herself. It didn’t change the fact that he was a jerk who had no problem screwing with her head and had just said it. He never wanted a girlfriend again. Great. The guy she wanted more than any other guy seemed to have sworn off women. Becka was finally ready after all of these years to have a boyfriend, and the one guy she wanted didn’t want a girlfriend. That was just great. Becka spent the rest of the night fuming. Who did he think he was? Plenty of guys would love the chance to date her. She didn’t need him.

  It was too late to call Lilly, and Dave was at work, not that Dave would be a sympathetic ear. Maybe it was a good thing he wasn’t home. She called Crystal, begging for a girls’ night out. Crystal, trooper that she was, promised to be at Becka's in forty-five minutes.

  Some people ate their feelings; Becka overdressed hers. She settled on a high-waisted red mini and a white tank top with a daring neckline, her black lacy bra peeking out. It was cold out, so she wore a black belted jacket and heeled short black boots. Becka straightened her hair and kept her makeup simple with the exception of her fire engine red lipstick.

  "Wow," Crystal said in greeting when she opened the door. "Hot mama."

  Becka grinned, but it didn’t reach her eyes. This whole Nate debacle had seemingly permanently affected her self-confidence. Even walking out the door, Becka couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t want her all of the time. Going out with Crystal was just a lame excuse to get hit on for a placebo-like self-esteem fix. Becka was going to drink too much tonight, and with any luck do something she regretted.

  Crystal had wanted to see this band that was playing nearby. As long as there would be beer and boys, Becka was happy to tag along. The bar was in an open-air shopping center not far from Jillian's. It was crowded, so Crystal and Becka had to squeeze their way up to the bar. Recognizing that a friend of Lucy's was bartending, Becka managed to score a safe place for their coats. Becka opened a tab and ordered them each a shot of tequila. Crystal's eyes got wide, but she grabbed her shot. They cheersed and threw them back.

  Becka scanned the place for any open tables near the stage. There weren’t any free ones, but she did see one that appeared to only have two guys standing around it. Becka ordered a rum and Coke and, once she had it, pulled Crystal over to the table.

  "Hi. Can we share your table with you?" Becka asked the cuter of the two guys.

  He took one look at her and said, "Sure" as he moved his drink so she could have room to put hers down.

  Crystal nodded politely at the other guy and set her drink down as well.

  "I'm Becka, and this is Crystal."

  "Oh, I'm Ian, and this is Henry."

  Becka was thinking Ian looked pretty good, and she wondered if he would be interested in helping her forget all about Nate. Becka made a point to laugh at his jokes and randomly touch his arm. Ian seemed receptive, making a point to lean in real close when he spoke to her. Crystal did not seem as likely to hit things off with Henry. Instead, she was intent on watching the band. Becka could not help but notice the guitarist look over at Crystal more than a few times.

  Becka's thoughts kept straying to Nate. She felt a pull of sympathy for him because it was his birthday. As much as Becka wanted to be really into flirting with Ian, she had to deal with the fact that she just wasn’t feeling it. Becka started thinking about how she had hung up on Nate and wondering what he was doing. She went to the bathroom and called him.

  "Becka?"

  "I take it back."

  "What's that noise in the background? Where are you?"

  "Some band at some bar."

  "What do you take back?"

  "I do want to see you."

  "Where are you?"

  "I forget the name. It’s some bar over by Jillian's."

  "I'm on my way."

  "Really?"

  "Really."

  Becka hugged her phone to her chest and shimmied. She figured it would take him twenty minutes to get there so she went to tell Crystal.

  "So is this like a date?"

  "Doubtful, and I have no idea if he'll want to stay or not. Will you hate me forever if I bail with him?"

  "Not forever."

  Chapter 18

  Becka hugged her. She felt like a jerk for maybe leaving, but it was Nate. What else could she do? Becka went back over to the bar to get another drink. Ian came to stand with her and offered to get her drink. Becka thanked him but told him she had it. When their drinks came and she did not move to walk back with him to the table, he looked at her confused. Not wanting to lead him on anymore, she told him she was waiting for a guy friend. He seemed to get the hint and walked back to the table alone.

  Becka was almost done with her drink when she felt an arm wrap around her waist and a "Hey, kid" breathed into her ear. His voice gave her goose bumps. Becka turned to face him and wrap her arms around his neck. She leaned up to kiss him, asking him if today was his birthday. After their kiss, Nate confirmed that yes, it was. Taking a step back from her, Nate checked out what she was wearing, mentioning something about having to beat guys off with a stick.

  "So what do you want for your birthday?"

  "Got it."

  "Got what?"

  "A kiss from a smoking hot girl."

  Blushing, Becka gestured towards the table she and Crystal had been at and asked Nate if he wanted to go join them. He stiffened. Something was up. At first, Becka wondered why he even came out if he didn’t want to be there. Then s
he noticed how intently he was glaring at that guy, Ian, and that Ian seemed to be somewhat glaring back.

  "Becka, how do you know Ian?"

  "Just met him tonight. Is everything okay?"

  "Ian is my old roommate. You know, the one who was fucking my ex."

  "Oh my God, Nate. I literally just met him tonight. Do you want to leave? We can go back to my house."

  "That would probably be a good idea."

  "My friend Crystal is over there. I can't just leave without telling her."

  "I understand."

  Becka turned his face to look at her. "Do you want to know why I called you?" Not waiting for an answer, she went on. "I came here tonight wanting to try and forget about you, and I flirted with that guy, Ian. And the whole time, all I could think of was how badly I wanted you. I know you don’t want to complicate things, but I just wanted you to know that."

  Nate pulled her into a kiss so intense she had to catch her breath when he finished. It drove her crazy that he could not admit that they should be together. Becka gave Nate a quick extra peck before going over to Crystal. It felt weird feeling Nate's eyes on her back as Ian watched her approach. When she got to the table, Becka ignored him even though he was staring at her.

  "Leaving with your friend?" Ian asked.

  "Um, yep."

  Becka whispered in Crystal's ear that she was leaving and that she was pretty sure that Ian guy was bad news, just as a head's up. Becka made Crystal promise to text her when she got home and double-checked that she was okay with her leaving. Giving a half-hearted wave to Ian and Henry, Becka turned and went back to Nate. He was so tense. She leaned up to nibble on his jaw. Breaking his concentration on Ian, Nate looked down at her and smiled. Becka got her coat back and closed her tab. Then they left.

  Neither of them noticed Ian had followed them out until he said, "Nate."

  Nate's head whipped back to look at Ian.

  "Look, dude, I just wanted to say—"

  "Do not fucking talk to me," Nate cut him off, taking Becka's hand and making his way to the parking lot.

  Following them, Ian said, "I just want to say I'm sorry."

  "Trust me, Ian. You need to go away right now." Becka's eyes widened. She had never heard Nate sound so angry.