by Portia Moore
“Did you miss me?”
His words are unexpected and he sounds sincere. My eyes trail over to him and for a moment I want to call a truce but we both have our walls up for our own reasons. “Of course I did.”
“Did you miss me when you were with him?”
I wonder if it’s always going to be like this—a contest between the two of them. I want to comment on it but I decide against it and I tell him the truth. “Especially when I was with him.”
He looks over at me, a hint of disbelief lingering on his expression. Did my sleeping with Chris cause him to think that we have nothing, that my feelings for him are gone? There are so many questions I want to ask him but I know he won’t answer most of them, so I ask him the simplest of them while I’m in a talking mood.
“Did you miss me?”
There’s a long silence and, right when I think he’s not going to answer, he says, “Every day.” His tone is quiet and makes me smile but a sense of sadness washes over me. If he’s here, where is Chris now?
“It used to be us before anything. Now it seems like that’s changed,” he says solemnly.
“We have a daughter now. It can’t be like that anymore. Secrets almost destroyed us, Cal. We almost lost each other, and I did lose you. I don’t want that to happen again.”
I wish this conversation wasn’t happening while driving. Are my words affecting him? Or are they going in one ear and out the other? He puts up a huge wall up around him, one that I could never get behind. Has he changed, is this the same man that left me on the floor in tears and alone all those years ago? He’s quiet, which means he’s probably thinking. This is good. So I decide to push it a little more.
“I want you to get better because I love you and for our daughter.” I see his jaw flinch, and I know I took it too far too fast.
“Better, meaning Chris?” he asks through clenched teeth.
“Better, meaning all of you,” I say defensively.
“Why didn’t you have this conversation with him?”
“I was going to but he’s not here now. You are. But why does it even matter? This shouldn’t be you versus him. We’re in this together.”
“We are? Well, since we’re all in this together, tell me, why did he leave?” he spits out.
“You tell me! Better yet, tell me how does this all work? Does he decide? Do you decide? Is there a fucking schedule that I can get a copy of? Because this is insane. I thought when you came back, I would have answers. That the big puzzle of my life would be solved, but of course, it’s not. That would be easy and, with you, nothing is ever easy.”
“There she is.”
“Who?”
“The real you,” he answers smugly. He’s such a smart ass. Great, he wants me to be a screaming lunatic and Chris wants me to be a nun.
Fan-freakin-tastic.
chapter 4
We survive the ride without killing each other and, eventually, I fall asleep. How do you fall asleep in the midst of a storm surrounded by a torrent of unanswered questions? I don’t know, but eventually your mind and body shut down and give you peace for a moment, and I dream. I dream about my world, about how it was, about Chris coming into it, how he changed things and then Cal comes back, flipping things on their head. When I wake, I think about where my world is going. How do I parent in the midst of dysfunction? How do I avoid being pulled back to the place I used to be? I feel like I’m fighting a war, weaponless and against an opponent that knows my very weakness is him. I open my eyes to see it’s dark out. The car has stopped and my door is open. I look up to see him leaning over me, his hands resting on the roof of the car. I sit up and look around.
“Where are we?” I ask, a yawn escaping my mouth. It doesn’t look like we’re in a part of Michigan or Chicago.
“Is that something you really need to know?” he quips. He’s such a smart ass.
“Yes I need to know where we are in relation to our daughter. You know, the one we were supposed to pick up from your parents.”
“Gwen knows we’re picking her up tomorrow,” he replies simply.
“You talked to your mom?” I ask, surprised.
“Gwen is one of the few people who doesn’t think I’m the anti-Christ,” he says sarcastically.
“And we’re in Venitan, a shitty little suburb in Michigan” he says dryly.
“What are we doing?”
“You say you want to know the whole story…all my secrets. Well, this is where it starts,” he says, reaching his hand out to me. I look up at him skeptically.
“Is this a game or something?”
“Games are for kids. Welcome to our new fucked-up reality,” he says.
Riddles and games, all freakin’ puzzle pieces. It’d be too easy to get straight answers. I let out a deep breath and watch him walk into the house.
I look around. It’s late evening and the street is quiet. It looks like a lower, lower middle-class neighborhood. I reluctantly follow behind him. I stop half way and wonder if I should just take off in the car and speed off to the Scotts’. That would be the logical thing to do, but then again, logic and I don’t work—we’re a toxic combination. If this is a game, though, there will be a winner and a loser. I don’t plan on losing.
I stop at the little mailbox in front of the house and look in it. I pull out three letters that all say Cal Scott on them. What the hell? He actually had this place—owns it, maybe? But, for how long and why?
“What? Are you Nancy Drew, now?” he chuckles before disappearing into the house. I begrudgingly make my way up the stairs and follow him into the little two-level home. By the time I’m in, he’s flicked on the lights and I’m actually shocked. The outside of the house looks old and more than a little worn but inside, it’s completely different. It’s decorated in cool grays and shades of blue. It’s impressive, looking like a professionally decorated space. On one end of the living room is a pale gray sofa with dark-blue pillows. A glass, asymmetrically-shaped coffee table with metal legs fills the space between the sofa and two printed, similarly colored, armless chairs. It looks expensive, like our home, which would mean the furnishings in this house are probably worth more than the actual house! In the left corner of the room is a fireplace surrounded by black stone. The kitchen is modern, complete with stainless steel appliances and is painted in the same grays and blues as the living area with just a touch of lime green in the backsplash mosaic and in the hand towels.
“So when did you get this? Why do you even have this?” I ask, confused.
“It was before us and the area interests me,” he says simply, taking off his coat and putting it away in a closet. His phone vibrates on the counter top. He glances at it and a wide smile spreads across his face.
“It’s Jenna,” he says, looking over at me. “You want to get it? What do you think Chris would say to her? Since he’s your new soulmate and all,” he says sarcastically. I can’t believe he’s really jealous. When I make no move to answer the phone, he swipes it from the counter and answers with a curt, “What’s up, Jenna?”
“No, it’s not Chris. It’s Cal. I was going to be calling you soon anyway. Just thought you should know Chris fucked Lauren last night,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Really, Cal?!” I shout at him. I can’t believe he just said that. Well, actually, I can believe it but oh my God!
“Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either. The pussy grew a dick—a scientific anomaly.” He winks at me.
“Hang up the phone,” I say tightly, walking over to him. He backs away from me.
“I didn’t have anything to do with it. It was all him, trust me,” he continues, dodging my attempt to snatch the phone away from him. “If it makes you feel any better. I plan on fucking him right out of her memory,” he says with a wink.
“You are such an asshole!” I shout at him. Jenna’s not one of my favorite people. She’s actually my least favorite person but she deserves to hear about Chris's absence a helluva lot better than that.
“I’m the asshole? I’m not the one who screwed her fiancé,” he chuckles.
“Do you hear yourself?” I say angrily. “You’re mad at me because I slept with you? I let you touch me, your hands, your lips. You don’t trust me because of that?” I laugh hysterically and his face hardens.
“I don’t trust you because you turned on me!”
“Turned on you?” I ask in disbelief.
“You weren’t supposed to give up on us, remember?” he says bitterly.
“You told me you’d never look at me like I was the villain,” he continues, walking towards me.
“I’ve never looked at you like that!”
“How do you think you’re looking at me right now?” The quietness is eerie. For a second, I see vulnerability in his eyes. This man hides behind his arrogance, his cockiness, the hard façade. I have to remind myself this unbreakable man I’ve come to think of as Cal, isn’t right. He has a mental illness. He is broken, more broken than I’ve ever been and it’s entirely possible that he, in fact, sees what I did as a legitimate act of betrayal. I let out a sigh and lean on counter nearby.
“Are we going to be able to get past this? Are you going to hate me forever and never trust me again? Is this it for us?” I ask him sincerely.
He looks away from me. “I’m going to go get some groceries. Maybe you can make use of some of those cooking lessons you’ve been taking,” he says before leaving out the door. How much does he remember? Is it everything? How does he know all and Chris knows nothing except what Cal wants him to?
chapter 5
April 30, 2008
I don’t go on dates.
I haven’t had to since I’ve been here. I like to have fun. I like things to be easy and I usually like my girls like that. Uncomplicated. Girls I can see through. This girl’s different. I’m not sure if I like it or not but I guess I do because I’m here with her. It’s the first time I’ve been around a girl that doesn’t look like she dressed up for me—that she tried at least. She’s still gorgeous; I don’t think she couldn’t be if she tried. I haven’t been around a girl in a long time who didn’t have on a skirt that barely covered her ass, with tits on high alert. Even dressed how she is, she’s one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen. In the club, she looked different. There, she was playing dress up. This, I think, is the girl behind the mask. Or maybe I’m wrong. I’m pretty good at reading people but I read her wrong when I first saw her.
Something about her scares me. She seems innocent, breakable, and that terrifies the fuck out of me. I’m used to dealing with girls that have already been fucked up so it’s not on me. I hope I’m not screwing myself in this. I’m just going to make up for throwing her into the disaster I put her smack in the middle of. That’s it. She’ll feel better, I’ll feel better, and we can both move on. If only she didn’t look at me with those wide hazel eyes and that innocent smile. Fuck, I hope she’s not a virgin. Nah, she can’t be. I couldn’t see that douchebag she was with dealing with waiting on a virgin.
“Uhm, where are we going, Cal,” she asks nervously as we make our way to the bridge. I try to cover the wide smile growing on my face. Getting her on the back of my bike was difficult. When I tell her what we’re doing here, she might freak the hell out. I stop and turn to face her and take her hands. Her eyes widen and I ignore how my heart speeds up. She lets out a little sigh. I force my eyes away from her lips.
They’re perfect and begging me to kiss them. “How open-minded are you?” I ask her, closing the distance between us.
She looks at me skeptically. “You’re not taking me to a giant wilderness orgy are you?” she jokes. Huh, she’s funny.
“The next best thing,” I say with a laugh and she bites her thumb. I hope she stops doing stuff like that. It’s so damn sexy and I’m not going to sleep with her. Fuck, I am going to sleep with her.
“We’re going bungee-jumping,” I tell her reluctantly and her eyes widen.
“What?!” she says, taking her hands from mine. “No. No, I can’t.” She shakes her head, stepping away from me.
“Yes, you can,” I say, taking her hand again.
“Are you, like, one of those people—uhm, what do you call them?—adrenaline junkies?” She starts to laugh, holding her head in her hand.
“Something like that but it’s not that bad. After you do it, you’ll feel like a different person,” I promise her.
She looks at me skeptically then past me. “This, this doesn’t look like an authorized site. Are we supposed to be doing this here?” she says nervously. Shit.
“Okay, so it’s not exactly authorized but Jake, here, is the man. I’ve jumped with him a dozen times. You won’t die. I promise you,” I say, trying to contain my laugh at the horrified look on her face. She lets out a deep sigh, and turns away from me.
She’ not going to do it. Maybe bungee-jumping was a little too much but dinner and a movie? That’s boring as hell.
I walk closer to her and I hear her breath hitch. It’s a turn on like nothing else. “Afraid of trying something new?” I ask her as her eyes find mine and she looks into them like she’s trying to see what’s behind them. It’s unnerving but a thrilling rush all at once.
“Okay, let’s do it,” she says, walking past me towards Jake.
“Really?” I ask, surprised.
“I didn’t ride an hour on the back of that death machine to sit and watch you have all the fun,” she says, nudging me. There’s more to this girl than I thought.
“Only thing is, I get to go first,” she says nervously.
“You’re kind of a boss aren’t you, Lauren?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “I better survive,” she mutters.
“You’re in good hands,” Jake says as we approach him. He turns to me. “C. Scott, and who is this cute little thing?”
“This cute little thing’s name is Lauren,” she answers before I can. I smirk at Jake who throws his hands up.
“Feisty?” he quips.
“So you know what you’re doing right?” she asks as he picks up the restraint.
“I haven’t killed this dude yet,” he answers.
“Who’s going first?” he asks and as Lauren steps closer to the edge of the bridge, her eyes widen.
“She is,” I pipe in and Jake gives me a knowing smile.
“I am,” she says quietly, shooting me a nervous glance.
It only takes Jake a few minutes to suit her up. “You’re awfully quiet, feisty,” he says.
“I’m praying,” she says with a light chuckle.
“It’s funny how religious people get before doing this,” he jokes.
“How many times have you done this?” she asks, after turning to face me.
“Twelve,” I answer and her eyes bug out of her head. “It’s not as fun as skydiving,” I tell her and she looks at me in disbelief.
“The first of the month, he’s usually out here,” Jake chimes in.
“Do you try to scare all your dates half to death?”
“You’re the first, feisty,” Jake says, giving her a pat on the back. I shoot him a warning glare.
“So I’m the lucky one, huh?” she asks, nodding her head and I give her a wink.
“Are you ready?” Jake asks and I watch as the color literally drains from her face.
“No. But let’s do this,” she says as confidently as she can.
“You’ve got this,” I tell her as she walks to her jumping point.
Jake stands behind her. “Hold out your arms and take a deep breath.”
I can feel my heart pounding, remembering my first jump. After that, I felt like I was better than him. That I could do anything. She does as he says, and I can hear how much air she’s sucking in.
“I’m going to count to five and then you’re going to jump okay,” Jake tells her and I can see she’s shaking.
“Kiss for good luck?” I ask her to ease the tension.
“I’m not so sure what type of luck
you are for me yet,” she says nervously.
“One two, three, four…any last words?” Jake asks.
“If this goes wrong and I die. I’m haunting both of you,” and with that, she sucks in one last breath, rolls her eyes shut, and jumps.
“I thought she’d be a staller,” Jake says as we watch her soar through the air, her screams echoing.
My phone rings. It’s Dexter. You’d think with someone as much money as he has would find more to do than call me all the damn time.
“What’s up Dexter?”
“Gwen has called me about a thousand and one times this week”
“That’s nothing new.”
“I’m unsure as to why you won’t speak with her from what you’ve disclosed to me I see no r—”
“I’ll talk to her when I have something to say to her. Right now there’s nothing,” I say plainly, waiting to hear his disapproving huff.
“Helen will be back in town this week. Will you be able to see her?” he asks and I roll my eyes.
“I have the meeting with the Luxe brothers,”
“Well, this is even more important wouldn’t you say?”
“Sure, whatever. I’ll give you a call back. I’m on date right now, I think it’s rude to stay on the phone during it.”
“You’re on a date?” he asks skeptically. “Since when do you date?”
I laugh. “Since I felt like it.”
“Since when do you feel like it?” he asks wryly.
“Funny. I’ll talk to you later Dexter. Always a pleasure,” I say, hanging up just as Lauren has been pulled up.
“You survived, feisty. I’m a little sad you won’t be haunting me tonight,” Jake flirts.
“Hey watch it,” I say, warning him. He throws his hands up in mock surrender.
“Oh, my God! That was insane!” she says excitedly as Jake starts to help her remove her safety gear.
“I’ve got it,” I tell him. He frowns but wisely backs off.
“Good insane or…?” I ask her hesitantly but, from the excitement in her face, I already know the answer.
