By a Thread

by R. L. Griffin

  “El, are you headed home for Thanksgiving?” he called, watching Cooper run around the backyard.

  “No… I don’t know. I pretty much never go home, unless there is an emergency.” She stood up and smoothed her jeans down. “Better,” she asked.

  “Why not?”

  “I just don’t feel like it’s home anymore.” Stella walked up behind him and circled her hands around his waist from the back.

  “Will you spend Thanksgiving with me and my family?” George was still looking outside, waiting for Cooper to make his way back to the door, holding her hands.

  “George...” Stella backed up from him, pulling her hands from his. He grabbed her hand and looked at her; she shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “Why El, why can’t you just do this one thing for me?” His eyes were pleading with her.

  “One thing,” Stella fired back at him. “It’s been a string of one things... I feel like I’m falling.”

  “Some people think that’s a good thing, El. The falling…” He kissed her hand, “I think that’s a good thing. Let’s fall together.” Seeing her shut down, he pulled her up the stairs. “Let’s go.”

  He opened the front door and his motorcycle was parked in the driveway. “Where we going?” A knot was forming in Stella’s stomach.

  “You’ll see.” George responded. Pulling her down the stairs, he lifted her up over the bike and used care in securing her helmet. Gently he kissed her lips, then her forehead. They headed to 95 North, Stella’s legs squeezing George and her arms wrapped around his waist. The wind whipping around her helped her forget the knot in her stomach, spreading through her chest. They pulled into the National Harbor and parked easily. Stella had never been here.

  George grabbed her around the waist and helped her off his bike. “Let’s grab something to eat.” He pulled a blanket out of one of the hard bags on the side of his bike and draped it over his shoulder. He grabbed her hand and led her over to a restaurant called Freshii. They ordered lunch to go. George never dropped her hand. Stella was headed in the direction of pure panic.

  George led her to the grass that surrounded a statue called the Awakening. There were five pieces of metal buried in the ground that looked like a giant was attempting to escape out of the dirt. The giant’s bearded face in mid-scream was struggling to get out of the ground.

  “Wow,” Stella sat on the blanket that was spread out. She set her salad down and stared at the giant. “That’s what I feel like sometimes.”

  “Me too,” George bit into his sandwich. “I think it’s normal to feel like that. I mean, for me it is.”

  Before Stella could stop herself she asked, “Why do you feel like this?” She pointed to the giant’s face.

  “Several reasons, El.” He watched her open her salad and take a bite. “I used to love what I did. Now I’m stuck in a job I never wanted.”

  “Oh my God, this is so good.” Her eyes rolled back. George smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  She took the rubber band off her wrist and put her windblown hair into a bun. “Maybe it is normal to feel stuck and trying to get free, but can’t.” She looked back at the giant. “I’ve never really asked anyone.”

  “Maybe you should.” George tucked an errant hair behind her ear.

  “No. That leads to discussions about feelings, of which I have none.” She stared at the giant, wondering how long she could continue to convince herself she was still numb. George, with his dimples and expert hands, had awakened her. She was fighting it with every ounce of her being. Numbness was all she could handle right now, anything else scared the shit out of her. “So don’t ask, George.”

  “One day El, one day you will trust me.” George turned back to his sandwich.

  Stella looked up at the sky while she lounged on the blanket. “For every piece of me that wants to let go with you, George, there is a piece that’s telling me to run far from you. George, I trust you. Believe me, I trust you more than I have anyone...”

  “Except Patrick and Millie?”

  “Actually, I trust you about as much as Millie. I don’t tell her things either. She is okay with that, just like you.”

  “And Patrick?”

  “I don’t have to talk to Patrick. He already knows everything.”

  “What does he know?” George pressed, looking out at the water.

  “Don’t.” Stella leaned in and kissed his neck gently. “I’m having such a good day, let’s just enjoy it. Why do you feel stuck in your job?”

  “Because someone has to pay the bills, right? It always comes down to money, right?”

  “That’s true,” she said slowly. “What bills?”

  “My family’s,” he sighed. George ran a hand over his shaved head. “Someone has to buy the picnic baskets and blankets, right?”

  “Your family?” she asked perplexed.

  “My mom and three sisters,” he answered.

  “You have three sisters, good God.” How did I not know this, she thought.

  “Right?” He smiled, “I’m the oldest and as you know my dad died, so someone has to take care of them.”

  She took another bite of food, wondering why his sisters couldn’t take care of themselves. Keeping her mouth shut, she leaned back against him. Who was she to have an opinion as to what was normal?

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Stella was hunched over a handwritten claim by a prisoner, trying to decipher the meaning of the words in the complaint. According to the complaint, the prisoner was requesting five million dollars in damages due to the U.S. Marshals damaging his comb and taking his knife when the prisoner was being transported to Rikers Island. Laughing to herself, she picked up the phone on her desk and dialed Rikers Island.

  Twenty minutes later she was listening to the explanation from a prisoner of why he believed his comb and unauthorized knife was worth five million dollars. She was surprised she was able to quell the laughter until after she finally hung up.

  Following up with the marshals involved in the transport, they all laughed at the absolute absurdity of the claim. She drafted an official response to the prisoner and clipped it to the file. She walked into Gary’s office and knocked, leaning against the doorframe.

  “Hey Gary, I got my favorite claim so far.”

  “Oh yeah, will it make for interesting reading?” Gary looked up from his computer and turned his chair to face her.

  “Prisoner property is worth much more than I thought. Did you know that damage to a comb and an illegal knife is worth five million dollars?”

  “No shit,” he replied.

  “No shit.”

  “Come sit down, chat.” He nodded toward the chair across from his desk. “How’s school?”

  “Pretty good, I’ve got a couple of cool classes, no finals this semester. Although that part is exciting I have four thirty-page papers to research and write, so I need to get started with that.” Gary and Stella had bonded over the past couple of months since she was the only intern that stayed past the summer and they’d worked closely together three days a week.

  “I bet.”

  “The job search is stressful, I really need to get a job lined up.”

  “I’m sorry we don’t have any openings here for you, Stella, I would love for you to work with us.” Gary smoothed his mustache and looked at her pensively, “If you need any references just let me know and I can get all the attorneys you worked with to volunteer. Wherever you end up will be lucky to have you.”

  “I really appreciate it, Gary.” Stella stood up. “Enjoy reading that disposition, it’s awesome.”

  “See you Thursday.” Gary turned back to his computer.

  Stella turned and walked back to her office to grab her bag when her phone rang. It was Millie. “What up?”

  Millie began talking a mile a minute about being on Capitol Hill for hearings and seeing some famous comedian testifying before Congress on immigration reform. They
talked and laughed as Stella walked to the Metro and rode the few stops home.

  She pulled on her knee-high brown leather boots and stood up, inspecting herself. Her deep emerald green sweater dress only reached her mid-thighs, but shit, her boots went all the way up to her knees, she thought as she looked in the mirror. She marched upstairs and grabbed a beer.

  Billy was at his typical place, the couch with a controller in his hand. “Damn Billy, aren’t you ready to go?” she asked in between sips.

  “Of course, just waiting on your slow ass.” He looked up. “Now go put some pants on and we will go.” He laughed.

  “Shut up. It’s a dress,” she said tugging at the hem of her dress.

  “It looks like a shirt to me, but I’m not complaining.” He paused his game, “Hey, can you grab me a Corona? They are in the bottom drawer of the fridge.” She stalked over to the fridge and leaned down to open the drawer, only veggies were in there. When she looked up he was staring.

  “Are you wearing underwear?” he asked.

  “You fucker, yes.” She turned to go downstairs. “Point taken.”

  When she came back up she had a grey dress on that was not much longer than the green one, but Billy didn’t give her a hard time about it. They walked to the bar together where they were meeting Millie and Patrick for some reason.

  Once they entered the bar Stella headed to their usual seats. She leaned over the bar and gave George a big hug, “It’s good to see you too, love.” He winked at Millie and nodded at Patrick and Billy.

  Millie pulled at the bottom of Stella’s dress and chastised, “I knew I wanted to see your ass tonight, thank you.”

  “You know you liked it.” Stella retorted, pulling the hem down on her dress. Hanging her bag on one of the hooks under the bar, she sat on the bar stool and crossed her legs demurely.

  “I did, so did the entire bar.” Stella turned and saw many people staring at her. She hopped down from the stool and bowed, she got a few claps. When she straightened up she saw Mr. Erickson. Shit, she thought. She needed to not act crazy tonight or maybe take the party somewhere else.

  Millie saw the change in Stella’s face, “What’s up?” She followed Stella’s eyes and then asked, “Wait is that the guy from the FOIA office you were telling me about?”

  “That’s the one,” she said, sitting down and yelling, “Yo, barkeep.” George was filling orders on the other side of the bar so Hazel came over. “The regular for the crew?” She smiled.

  “Sure.” Stella looked back at Patrick; he nodded, looking back to where Mr. Erickson sat with a few friends.

  They stayed and drank for hours, when 2:00 am rolled around George came from around the bar and fingered her collarbone, pushing her cowlneck down a little and placing a gentle kiss on it. Feeling the kiss all over her body, she gazed back to where Mr. Erikson had been sitting. She pushed out the breath she was holding. The table was empty.

  “Can I come over tonight?” George whispered in her ear, just feeling the heat on her ear and neck was about to send her over the edge. “I have to close so just stay up for me please, it will be a little while. Can I shower at your place?” No, she thought. That sounds too much like a boyfriend.

  “Sure,” she whispered. “You know, I’m going to confiscate my key from you at some point, right.”

  He frowned, “I know.” He threw the towel on the bar in front of Mille and stalked off.

  “Oops,” Stella hopped off the bar stool and followed George to the back of the bar. “George?”

  “El, you shouldn’t be back here.” He frowned and then put his arms around her. “I think you should let me keep your key. You never know when you’re going to need something.” He smiled mischievously. He smelled of beer and sweat, yet she was oddly turned on. He leaned into her hair, inhaling.

  Ignoring his last comment, Stella commented, “There’s hardly anyone here. You won’t tell, will you Hazel?” Hazel didn’t respond, but walked to the other end of the bar.

  “What’s her problem,” Stella put her hands on her hips. She’d been very careful about the amount of alcohol she consumed tonight. She was pleasantly buzzed, but not drunk, just right for a good time with George later.

  “Don’t worry about her,” he moved Stella against the corner of the bar where he was blocking anyone’s view into what they were doing. His wide shoulders towered over her and he leaned down as he pushed her against the wall.

  She gasped, “George...” it came out as a question. Then she felt his hand go up her thighs until he reached her underwear and he quickly pulled it off her, ripping it on both sides. “Oh, fuck.” Her entire body felt like it was on fire.

  “I’ll buy you new ones,” he growled. “Don’t fall asleep.”

  “How long will you be,” she whispered trying to get her wits about her.

  “I’m not sure, but I want you in that dress so that I can take it off you.” He shoved her underwear into his pocket.

  As she started to leave, he pushed her back and dragged a finger across her collarbone. “Oh shit George, so not fair.” Her head fell back and he kissed her exposed neck.

  “Not trying to be fair, El.” He moved towards the bar and starting cleaning up, not giving her another glance. She leaned her head back against the wall.

  Millie came out from the bathroom and saw her standing there. “You ready El.”

  “I’m not sure I can walk.”

  “You aren’t even drunk yet.” Millie then saw El’s gaze at George. “Ah, George strikes again, huh.” Millie pulled Stella’s arm and walked her back to the bar where Billy and Patrick were talking to a couple of regulars about the Redskins. “I like George.”

  “Me too,” Stella said.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  It was 4:30 am when she finally gave up on George. She nudged Cooper off the couch and they both made their way to her room downstairs. She fell into the bed and tossed and turned for the rest of the night.

  Footsteps upstairs woke her up at 9:00 am, she cringed at the lack of sleep and then looked at Cooper, who did not even pretend to lift his head. “Me too.” She pulled her ear buds out from her bag and put them in her ears. Drifting back to sleep with the Avett Brothers singing in her ears, she attempted clear her mind of any thoughts of George.

  Patrick shook her awake around 11:00, pulling out a bud. “You getting up today?” He raised his eyebrows, “Why did you sleep in your dress?” He sat down on her bed.

  “Too many questions for right now,” she said and looked at the clock. “Shit, is it really 11:00?”

  “Yep. You going with me to work out?”

  She reached out and saw she had a couple of texts from George on her phone. “Hold on...” she looked through them. No apology, just wanting her to meet him at Cosi for lunch. “I think I’ll run outside later with Coop.”

  “Okay, what you got going on for later?” He pushed himself off her bed and rubbed Cooper between the ears.

  “Nothing, why?” She stretched her legs and arms in opposite directions as she yawned. “I got tons of shit to read tomorrow, but not doing any work tonight.”

  “Let’s grab dinner.” He turned to walk out of her room.

  “Okay, Billy coming too.”

  “Ask him. He’s still sleeping, the lazy bum.”

  “Okay.” She got up and started moving towards the shower. “Hey Patrick,” she called.

  “Yo,” he answered on his way up the stairs.

  “George didn’t show last night.” Walking into her bathroom she took off her dress; she was still missing her panties.

  “I know.” She heard him turn the corner of the stairs and walk through the kitchen, leaving her with her thoughts. George had weaseled his way into her life when she wasn’t paying attention. Damn it, she thought. I know better. The water was hot, very hot, and she let it get hotter to scald all thoughts of being pissed off at George. He is not my boyfriend, I don’t get to be mad at him. Right? One of her pet peeves was people saying they
were going to do something and then doing something and not doing it.

  She needed to clear her head. George was her friend, she liked George. George was awesome in the sack and welcome in her bed. They had agreed eight months ago they were only sleeping with each other. She did not want to share him. Wait, what? Oh. Fuck. Thinking back the last eight months, they did everything couples did except during the day. She really did not know that much about him. She knew what he liked her to do to him in bed. He was pretty funny, he was a journalist for awhile before he got a job at the bar to “pay the bills.” She knew he missed his old job. He liked Guy Ritchie movies and comedies. He loved the Steelers and Guinness. She was pretty sure that was all she knew about him.

  Postponing the inevitable, she took care in straightening her hair and applying makeup. Before she pulled on her T-shirt, she examined her tattoo, trying to get back to where she was comfortable emotionally. When she finished getting ready she began the walk to lunch with George. Maybe he would have something enlightening to say, they hardly ever saw each other during the day.

  George was sitting in a back corner booth. When she walked in, his breath hitched. She was gorgeous. He loved everything about her. She was hard though. He had never dealt with someone so fucked up. She smiled when she saw him and then she gestured she was going to order. He trotted over to her.

  “Hey,” he leaned down kiss her cheek and she surprised him by turning and giving him a full on kiss, parting his lips with hers.

  “Hi,” her skin was flushed from the walk and she’d cleared her head.

  “Wow, a guy could get used to that,” he said as he stared at the menu without seeing it.

  “What did you expect, taking a girl’s panties like you did last night and then neglecting to follow up?” She hit him with her hip, taking a humorous tone. “Whatcha ordering?”

  “My usual,” he said and nodded at the guy behind the counter.

  “Hey man, usual?” The guy behind the counter was already making it, George smiled.

  “Thanks, man.”