“Shit,” he cuts me off, and his response has my ass right up out of the seat thinking he sliced his hand open or something. The look on his face tells me he’s fine; he tosses the pliers on the bench and wipes his hands on his jeans. “I’m happy to get out of the house for a minute.”
He gives the box a look over before shutting the metal screen and flipping the switch back on. The furnace roars to life as he sags down into the seat next to me. “You ever hear of colic?” he asks as he reaches over and grabs the beer I offer him.
“Colic?” I have no fucking clue what he’s talking about.
“It means your baby cries… a lot.”
A grimace appears on my face and if I’d have to bet, it matches his. I focus on my beer and he focuses on his.
Joseph and I hit it off when he and Cheryl started dating. I never did like her previous boyfriends, but he treats her right. He’s a good fit for her. A good husband, and a good father. Even though he’s working his ass off while Cheryl’s out on maternity.
“Sorry to hear that,” I tell him, the beer right there at my lips. I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know shit about babies.
He lets out a heavy sigh, “It’s alright.” His eyes are distant when I look at him. He’s got a few days’ worth of scruff and I’m only now noticing the dark bags under his eyes. He huffs out a small laugh and takes another sip of his beer.
A chuckle leaves me at his next comment, “My ma said it was karma for how I was as a baby.”
With a long sigh, he adds, “She’s a daddy’s girl, though.” A sparkle hits his eyes, and I finally ease up some.
“Yeah, that’s what Cheryl says.”
Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand he takes a seat beside me. “At like two in the morning, every morning, she’s up and hungry. She doesn’t want me then.” He makes a face with wide eyes and it makes me laugh as he takes another drink. “But any other time, she’s my baby girl.”
The pride in his voice makes me smile. “I’m real happy for you two.”
With a nod and a smile still on his face, he admits, “I always thought you’d have one first.”
I grunt a response, “I’d need a woman to make that happen.”
“You had one when I first met you.” My body tenses some. I know Ma’s always bringing it up around everyone. She’s always pushing me to settle down, but I don’t need to hear it from my brother-in-law. I only put up with it from Ma, cause she’s my ma.
“I’m just sayin’,” Joseph takes a deep drink. “You’d make a good dad, if you ever wanted to.”
That’s my cue to stand up and stretch; I do without looking Joseph in the eyes. “Yeah, well. Maybe one day.”
I take a few steps to head upstairs, but turn when I don’t hear Joseph following me. The site of him is nothing but casual although he’s looking at me like he’s waiting for something.
“I heard you got a woman.”
I run my hand over my face with frustration. Why does everyone have to complicate everything and get into my business? I don’t need anyone in my head or trying to push things one way or the other with me and Grace.
“She’s nice,” I tell him.
“She’s in the wedding?” Joseph’s got a cocky smile on his face and it breaks the tension. I let out a laugh as he stands up, taking another drink. “Must be serious if she’s in the wedding.”
Shaking my head, I stare at the back wall, at the unfinished bar. “I’m going to need another beer soon,” I mutter to my brother-in-law. It makes him laugh, deep and low, and he relaxes his posture, leaning forward in his seat.
The downstairs would be a good place to hang with him after all.
I need to get down here and finish this room off.
“She’s real sweet. A graphic designer.” I add the last part absently.
“You met her at the bar?” I look back at my brother-in-law to see his face twisted, and his forehead pinched.
I shove my hands in my pockets and answer, “We hit it off there. It was just friendly at first.” I remember way back when I first laid eyes on her.
“That’s the way to do it,” Joseph comments with a nod and then sucks his teeth. “Friends first.”
“Yeah… then I got to missing her.” I surprise myself with the omission.
“Yeah I bet.” I’m thankful for his simple comment and not looking any deeper into what I just said.
When I bought the bar, Joseph was the only one who backed my decision. Everyone else told me not to pull the trigger, saying it was too risky. That it wasn’t a real career. But Joseph was right there. He gave me the pen to sign the papers with. He’s a logical man, but in that hairy ass chest of his is a heart of gold.
“So two stable people, two good jobs.” Joseph’s voice carries a bit.
“We just started seeing each other.” Even though my voice is harder than it should be he’s unaffected.
He throws his hands up comically. “I’m just saying, you seem happy lately.”
I don’t get where he’s coming from. I didn’t pressure him on marriage and babies. Bro code and all. “I’m doing fine.”
“Yeah. There’s fine, and then there’s happy. You're happy.”
My lips part to say something back, but I don’t know what he wants from me. I just don’t want people making a big deal of this and expecting something. It’s just fun. For fuck sake, just let us be happy.
“A wife would look good on you.”
“You’ve lost your mind,” the words spill out of my mouth.
“You still got that ring?” he asks me. Susanne’s ring. An engagement ring I spent all of my savings on. Thinking about it now, half a carat and as simple as they come, there’s not much to it. Just like the relationship I had with the woman who wore it.
“No,” the lie comes out easy. He snorts, like he knows I’m lying as he tosses his empty beer can into the trash then almost grabs another. But he stops himself. Instead he tells me, “I have to get home.”
Finishing the last bit of mine, I toss my beer can in the trash and leave the rest where they are. “I need to get going, too.”
The wooden stairs creak as we walk up the rickety steps. When he opens the door at the top, I flick the light switch off and the afternoon daylight filters down the stairway.
Almost time for work. Always working.
That day off with Grace made me realize how much I’ve been sacrificing. And what I could be doing if I wasn’t at the bar all the damn time.
It’s not an option yet, but I finally let Maggie go through applications for a manager. The memory of her broad smile and how she shoved my chest in victory makes me huff a short laugh that gets my brother-in-law’s attention.
“Let me know if it quits again,” Joseph tells me as he heads to the front door, not breaking his stride.
“Will do.” With my arms crossed, I stand in the foyer with him as he slips on his boots. “You coming on Sunday?” He missed the last two family dinners. I know he doesn’t need anyone nagging him, I’m just curious. I don’t hold it against him.
“Yeah, I should be able to. I think we’re getting into the flow of things.” I can see the hint of relief in his expression.
“Alright then,” I comment as he reaches in for a quick hug.
“See you Sunday,” he says, turning to leave.
“See you Sunday,” I repeat, shoving my hands into my jean pockets and watching him go. My voice is lowered, and I’m not sure if he hears me or not. But it’s alright.
Joseph shuts the door behind him, and I head upstairs to grab my wallet and keys so I can get going, too. As I shove the wallet into my back pocket, my eyes flicker to the dresser.
I don’t even think about walking over and pulling out the top drawer where the ring is. It just happens.
The small diamond twinkles. It looks brand new, as if my ex never even wore it. The thought makes me happier than it should. I wish I’d never given it to her. I felt obligated to. As I stare at the rin
g, the memories come flooding back.
I was her first, and her high school sweetheart. Not that there was anything sweet about her. We had some alright moments, but I felt chained to her. After all, everyone knew what we’d done.
They expected us to stay together. They expected all the little boxes to get checked off, and for us to do what we were supposed to. Her cheating on me was one of the best things that could’ve happened. It gave me an out. A heavy weight lifts off my shoulders as I realize how true that statement is.
And how fucking sad it is, that I would’ve married her, even knowing I never really loved her. Maybe back then I thought that was what life was supposed to be. But right here and now, no. I didn’t love her; not like I know how to love now. She damn sure didn’t love me.
As the thought hits me, my phone beeps in my back pocket.
My first thought is that it’s Grace. I’m surprised by how disappointed I am when I see it’s Cheryl.
Did Joseph leave yet?
My poor sister. All alone with little Miss Evie. I can just imagine her rocking their baby girl while sending this text and listening to her baby girl cry. It’s all a phase, but I already know she’s going to miss it when Evie’s over it. Maybe not the crying, but the wanting to be held. Hell, Joseph may miss it even more.
Just left. I type the message and add, Love you, just as she sends back her response.
Thanks. Love you too.
The trace of a smile picks my lips up, but then I see the time. Shit. I have to get my ass going. The ring flips back and forth as I roll my fingers over the thin band, making my way out.
There’s no way in hell I’m not getting married. My ma would kill me. Just the thought makes my steps down the stairs lighter. I’m not getting any younger. And it’s about damn time I had someone in my life. Someone like Grace. I don’t know if she’s the one. My heart flips at the thought of her in a white dress.
I want her, I know that much. But I don’t have to know any more than that. She’s mine for now, and we’re both enjoying ourselves. That’s what matters. There’s no need to put a label on it.
I grab my jacket off the coatrack and slip on my boots. She should be at the bar tonight, but she’s got a thing with my sister first. A deep chuckle vibrates up my chest. I’m sure she’ll have plenty to say about that.
Before I get in the car, I slip the ring in my pocket, knowing the church right up the street has a donation bin. I’m tossing the ring in there before I get to work. I need it gone and out of my life. There’s no way I’d give this ring to my wife. All this ring represents is my past. It was meant for Suzanne.
I never wanted her back. That ring was just a reminder of what I was going to end up with.
I’ll never settle. As that thought passes through my mind, I realize I should’ve thrown that damn thing away a long time ago.
Grace
Peeking at my phone again, I read the text from Charlie’s sister, Ali. It was sent to all the women in the bridal party.
Let’s meet at 1 p.m. at Monique’s Bridal! There will be champagne. :)
With a deep breath in I stare out my car window and take in the view, namely Monique’s Bridal Shop. It doesn’t take long before I see a gaggle of girls come around the corner, and spot Alianna in the middle of them.
A mix of emotions are running through me, but I shove them down and get out of the car, crossing the street toward them with my keys jingling in my hands.
Ali spots me nearly instantly and I keep the smile plastered on my face. “Oh, it’s Grace!” She calls out, “I’m so glad you came!”
She hugs me, and it only eases the anxiousness of meeting new people and being in her bridal party – which still makes me feel like I’m crazy for agreeing to do it. She has to be the crazier one though, right? How awful that I’m thinking that as I pull away and wave to the other women who are obviously her friends and far closer to her than I will probably ever be.
“Hi guys,” the greeting leaves me and I swallow thickly, trying to shake off every nerve and just enjoy this trip, get to know Ali and have a good time.
I already feel guilty for being on this shopping trip, seeing as how I'm not really dating Charlie. No need to make it weird on top of that by being my… well, weird self. But they don’t know that.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am that you made it!”
“No problem!” I say, trying to make my voice sound upbeat.
“Let me make introductions before we go inside,” Ali announces with an excited flare and a quick clap of her hands. “This is Lindsay, Sam, and Ellie.”
She gestures to three women. Two of them are petite and blonde like Ali herself, and they’re dressed as preppy as J. Crew models. Ellie seems to be the odd one out, tall and thin, dark-haired and wearing an artsy, hot pink dress. Cheryl isn’t coming, but she’s the last bridesmaid. She texted in the group message that she hadn’t slept at all with Evie being up all night.
Altogether, they seem really nice and they’re warm to me. So, it’s off to a good start!
“Hi,” I say. “It’s nice to meet y’all.”
“Ladies, this is Grace. She’s dating Charlie.”
I note the looks of total surprise on all three of their faces, followed by a look on Lindsay’s face like she smelled something rotten. I assume that look isn’t directed at me, but I still saw it.
I guess Diane isn’t the only one to have the hots for Charlie.
RIP that good start. At least it lasted a second.
Sam and Ellie say hello, but Lindsay just gives me a tight smile. Luckily, Ali is too caught up in starting the dress shopping to notice. My heart races and the nerves build up even more as she ushers everyone toward the store.
“Come on! Let’s go in!” Ali leads the pack, which now I’m a part of.
The window display sports a lady mannequin dressed in what I assume is the height of bridal couture. The dress is white satin, tightly fitted and turned to the side to showcase the low-cut back.
It makes me wonder what kind of dress Ali is looking for, exactly. I don’t know a darn thing about her really or about the wedding.
The second we’re inside, I pause, waiting for someone to tell us where to go, but we’re ushered back and then father back; Ali knows just where to go and doesn’t wait for anyone. There’s a single podium along the back wall, empty at the moment, and a curved wall that blocks the rest of the store from sight. All the decor is colored in shades of white, cream and pastel pink.
“Hello, hello,” a woman appears from a side door right on cue. She speaks clearly, but with a Parisian accent. “You’re here for Alianna?” Her elegant demeanor, graying hair and thin frame fit in with the store. This woman looks like she owns the place.
“Yes! That’s me,” Ali raises her hand while practically shaking with excitement. She’s freaking adorable. It warms my heart to see her happiness on such obvious display.
“Bien. I’m Monique, the owner. Let me get you ladies set up.” There’s a large round pink ottoman to sit on, two stuffed chairs, and a throne. Like an actual throne. I take it that’s going to be for the bride-to-be.
To our left, there’s a floor to ceiling three-way mirror with a low pedestal in the middle. Ali looks at the pedestal nervously.
“You sit here,” Monique says to Ali, gesturing to the throne. “And the rest of you, sit where you like.”
Ali glances at us, her perfect smile never dimming, then goes to sit on the gilded throne. After a minute of being left to our own devices as Monique runs to the back room she came from to grab a client form, Ali grins even wider, I don’t know how that’s possible. Lindsay and Sam take the two chairs, leaving Ellie and me to sit on the ottoman.
“All right,” Monique announces as she enters again with a clipboard and pen. Her English is perfect, though her accent is heavy and honestly adds to the romanticism. “What are we looking for, Miss Alianna?”
Ali turns a pretty shade of pink. “Okay, I already have the rec
eption dress.” Her confidence growing as she talks. “My wedding is in a week, and I need a second dress for the ceremony. I wasn’t going to do two dresses, but my ma wants something more traditional even though it’s a smaller, more casual wedding.” I almost laugh at Ali’s answer. Charlie told me how his mom has been very opinionated with Ali’s dress. I guess she finally gave in one full week before the deadline. She's cutting it close.
“Okay. Tell me what this ideal dress looks like.”
“Umm, I brought some pictures…” Ali answers, digging through her purse all the while. The entire place is as quiet as a mouse as we wait. “Here. I made an album of the dresses that I like from the bridal magazines… and the ones my mother liked too.”
“Ah!” Monique nods, reaching out. “Let’s see.”
She takes the stack of photos from Ali and sifts through them. She's quiet for a long time, taking the measure of each picture fully. I wish it wasn’t so quiet, it makes me pick at a non-existent piece of lint as my insecurities rise. I don’t want to ruin this for Ali. I don’t want her to look back on this day and wish I hadn’t been there.
“Do you think you’ll be able to help us?” Sam asks, fidgety. “She waited until the last minute,” she adds, giving Ali a face which only makes Ali give her a face back.
“Of course,” Monique responds, very seriously. “I have dresses on hand that will need to be altered, but I promise you, love,” she turns her attention from the photos to Ali, “you will fall in love with one of them and so will your mother.” The beam of a smile Ali returns and glistening of her eyes forces a wide smile from me too.
“Oh,” Sam responds, with a clap not unlike the one Ali had before introductions outside. “Well, alright!”
“Come, come. Let us get you started,” Monique says with a smile of her own. “The fitting room is right here. Marcus will be in with some champagne shortly.” I don’t know who Marcus is, but I could use that champagne. So at the moment, he is my hero in the making.
Knocking Boots Page 12
