by A. J. Downey
“Fine, um, okay,” she said. “Can I call you tomorrow?”
“Sure,” I said, following it up immediately with, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I’d become so miserable to be around.”
“It’s not like that at all!” she cried.
“Please…” I stared at her and she stopped, getting teary-eyed.
“I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” she cried. “I’ve seen you completely cut people off for less than what I just said.”
“Yeah, but they aren’t you,” I said. I hugged her, trying to figure out how to reassure her and get her out the door so I could feel the feelings that had the dam I kept inside bursting at the seams.
“Don’t send me out there,” she said and sniffed.
“I’m afraid to deal with anything right now,” I said, my own tears coursing down my cheeks.
“I know, but I’m drunk, and I think you are too, and I don’t want this to be the end of us or ruin us.”
“I don’t either,” I said, and the overwhelming feeling of it all threatened to crush me.
“I just want you to be happy, Ren.”
“I know.”
I didn’t get my alone-time, time to process, time to think… Maybe it was for the best, maybe not, I don’t know.
All I knew was that I loved Linny dearly, she was my only friend, but that didn’t mean I didn’t sometimes need a break. I knew my filters for life experiences were broken and I had to work twice as hard at deciphering a person’s intent as a result. I knew that Linny hadn’t meant things the way I was taking them: You’re such a basket case, a doormat, a boring loser, and I’m sick of your broken.
I understood it if that was the case. I understood it all too well. I wished I was normal. That I could just exist like everyone else. It seemed like they had it so easy moving through life without this extraordinary cross to bear… this weight of sins I hadn’t even committed.
Talk about being crucified for the sins of your ex. My situation brought a whole new meaning to the common phrase.
“I want to be hopeful,” I finally told Linny, when we’d finally cleaned up and had liquored up even more, after hugging and crying it out.
She nodded and sniffed; both of us were lying in my bed, facing each other, talking more. She had to stay the night, which had been the plan to begin with. It always was when we planned a night of drinking.
“I mean, you can’t be the end all of be all’s when it comes to being my friend, it’s not fair to you.”
“Have you ever heard me complain about it?” she demanded.
“No,” I answered. “But I know it has to be hard.”
“Not as hard as being you on a daily,” she said, with an awkward smile.
I nodded and sniffed.
“Yeah, well…”
“At least the incidents are getting fewer and farther between,” she said, sounding hopeful.
“The fact they’re happening at all, still, after nine years, going on ten? That honestly just tells me that no matter how few, no matter how far between, they won’t ever stop. Not completely.”
“We can’t control what other people do, babe.” She tucked some of my hair that’d fallen into my face behind my ear. “We really only can do something about how we react to it.”
Well, wasn’t that some food for thought? I’d heard it all before, but for some reason, right here, right now, was the time that it really seemed to click. Probably because Stoker was in my life now, and I didn’t want to lose him. I didn’t want to give him any reason to be like ‘Fuck this shit’ and walk. I really liked him, and I wanted to be brave for once in my life and hold on to whatever it was that was budding between him and me.
I closed my eyes and breathed out, a stillness overtaking me with my moment of clarity and the decision made to work on myself in the very near future. It was going to be hard work, but I was hoping that I could try to fix some of myself. For me, but also for Linny and Stoker too. Maybe those were all the wrong reasons, but even if they were, the end result would still be better than staying the way I was now, alone and lonely, afraid all the time of what people said, of what they think of me.
I slept, but it wasn’t a good sleep. It was full of bad dreams and haunting memories.
16
Stoker…
“Stoker! What’s up, man?” Marlin reached a hand down. I braced my boot against the side of his boat and hoisted myself up onto the deck. We did the guy-hug thing, clapping each other on the back before I eased off with a gusty sigh.
“Was hoping I could talk to you.”
“Oh, yeah? Happen to be about that quality little brunette you found yourself?”
“One and the same.” I nodded, stuffing my hands into my jeans pockets.
“Pretty sure we’re gonna need a beer for this conversation, hold on a sec. Go ahead and have a seat.”
I took a seat on one of the deck chairs set back under the boat’s awning in the shade, while Marlin trotted across the back deck to one of the built-in coolers meant for the catch of the day. He opened it up and rooted around, almost shoulder-deep and extracted a can of beer. He reached in again, made a sound of disgust, discarded the can of soda he’d dredged up, and went back in for another beer, all while my teeth were on edge, dying to get out what I needed to get out.
Marlin bounded up and brought the two beers he’d retrieved out of the depths of the ice chest with him. He tossed me one and I held it out, cracking it open, the icy foam spilling over my fingers and pattering to the deck. I sucked some down as he dropped into the seat next to mine and asked, “So what’s up?”
“I need to know how you did it, I mean do it, you know, with Faith.”
He raised an eyebrow and said, “Well, I imagine it’s the same way you do it with the hot little number from your show. I know you ain’t unfamiliar with the birds and the bees, mate.”
“I mean the trauma.” I rolled my eyes from behind my mirrored aviators, glad he probably couldn’t see it.
“She trafficked?” he asked, getting suddenly serious.
“Nah, man. This is a horse of a different color entirely.” I told him what was up.
“Seriously? ‘Murder Whore’, that’s what they got?”
“Yeah,” I took another swallow of beer. “Let’s hope these fucksticks keep it at just that. It’s like a mob mentality that just won’t fuckin’ die.”
“So the first thing, is when something trips her trigger like that, is to be the calm one,” he said. “You seem to have that part down. You’re cool-headed, unlike a lot of the rest of this crew. You do things from the heart, sure, but you think about it first. That’s a point in your favor.”
“Okay,” I said evenly. “What else?”
“Everybody, every situation like this, is something different, man.” He shook his head. “A lot of it is intuition, reading signals and staying in your lane. She rages and fumes, you let her. She pushes you away? You really gotta decide if it’s the real deal or if you need to stay the course. Sometimes, you gotta lay off the throttle just for a little bit, back off and wait out the storm under an overpass or something, you feel me?”
I nodded. “So far, so good.”
“I know you two are only a couple of weeks in, and I know those couple of weeks have been kind of intense… everything good?” he asked.
“Yeah, as far as I know,” I said. “I mean, I don’t know how anyone could think anything bad about my little orchid. She’s – she’s quiet, keeps to herself, doesn’t bother no one. All she does is work and home. She reads, she cooks; she gardens out back of her place. She’s crafty as hell, and a queen of thrift. One of those handy types that turns old things new.”
“Sounds like an old soul,” Marlin observed.
“I don’t know about all that,” I said. “I do know she hasn’t gotten a fair shake and it’s a damn shame.”
“Lost soul?”
I nodded. “Like me. Like any of us.”
“Citizens, man. You nev
er know. You sure she’d be able to take the rough and tumble of a life like ours?”
“I think she’s both stronger than she looks, and stronger than she thinks. I mean, unlike most citizens, she’s still here. She hasn’t gone bat-crap crazy, she hasn’t tried to off herself, or tried to fight back.”
“Yeah, you sure about either of those?”
“She’s coming for the weekend, she’ll be here Friday night,” I said.
“Don’t try and deep-dive her issues too soon.”
“That your official recommendation?”
“Yeah, that and don’t think you can handle this kind of shit on your own. Soon as you can ‒ or are in a position to – get her some professional help.”
I nodded slowly. “Might be hard to convince her she needs it.”
“Eh, only if for whatever reason she’s not ready for it. I think she might be, though.”
“Yeah?”
“She didn’t pitch a bitch, didn’t kick you out or turn you away after the meltdown Sunday, did she?”
“No. No, she did not.”
“Well, there you have it.”
“So just keep doing what I’m doing?”
“Pretty much, man.”
“I somehow figured as much, but I was still hoping you might have something else for me. Something I’ve been missing.”
“How’d you figure out how to do what you been doing in the first place?” he asked.
“Watching you, and the captain, and Charity with Galahad.”
Marlin chuckled. “Yeah, we are one ragtag fucking hell of a crew, ain’t we?”
“Truth, brother, but I don’t think any of us would have it any other way.”
He grunted in agreement and we sat sipping cold beer, staring out over the water just over the rock wave-break of the marina.
“One last piece of advice?” He looked at me over the rim of his sunglasses.
“Lay it on me,” I said.
“Open up right back. Don’t hold back. You can’t expect her to be an open book and not return the favor.”
“I ain’t got no secret pain, not on the level like she’s got.”
“Doesn’t matter. Lead by example. Even if whatever she touches on hurts. Doesn’t have to be tit-for-tat, but don’t hold back, man.”
“There are some things I can’t tell her.”
“Club things, yeah, I get that – but the explanation as to why you can’t tell her those things ain’t off limits. Be as open as you can, until you can’t.”
I nodded.
“Seems only fair.” I let the comfortable silence fill in for a while, finally saying, “Thanks, man.”
“Any time, brother. Any time.”
The days slid by in slow motion, stagnant, hot, muggy, and sheer miserable hell. I’d like to think it was just the joys that was working outside in Florida, but that didn’t explain why the nights passed much the same when I was back in the air-conditioned confines of my house. I knew that as soon as she was here, it would be like a balmy breeze sweeping through the place. That was, of course, as soon as she got here.
I was with the boys from the band in the garage. The club meeting had gone by quick this week. The plan was as it ever was for me: club meet, band practice, and that’s where it deviated. Instead of taking my ass back to The Plank or meeting up with the guys at the beach, I was staying home with my orchid.
I couldn’t wait. I was jittery, almost worse than stage jitters, which was fuckin’ weird for me, but I kinda liked it at the same time. Made me feel alive in a way I’d only ever gotten on the back of my bike with the open road in front of me, the wind in my hair, and no real destination in mind.
“Jesus Christ, man!” Gideon shouted. Rory quit it with the drums and Finn raised his eyebrows over the neck of his guitar.
“Sorry, my bad, guys.”
“Dude, I’ve legit never seen you like this before,” Rory called from behind his drum kit.
“Yeah, man. I mean, I fuckin’ miss her. I can’t wait for you all to really meet her. She’s somethin’ special.”
“Look, just do me a solid, smoke a fuckin’ bowl or some shit, mellow out, and try to stay on key.”
“G! Man, take it easy. Maybe you should smoke a bowl and chill out.” Finn scowled at him.
Gideon scrubbed his face with his hands and raked his long, dyed black hair back from his face. I’d quit dying mine black a while ago. It was just too much of a pain in the fucking ass when I was already a natural dark brown with no grays in sight.
“Let’s take five, those who need to can take a piss or grab a toke and we can take it from the top. I’ll get my shit together, I promise,” I said.
“Fuckin’ better man, I got better things to do than stand here jerking the mic stand like it’s my cock in the middle of your busted-ass garage on a Friday night.” Gideon was in a fuckin’ mood again.
“What, Angela stop jerkin’ it for you?” Finn asked, lighting up a cigarette, narrowing his kohl-lined eyes at our lead.
“Man, shut the fuck up!” Gideon snarled to a track of Rory’s laughter as his sticks clacked and he got up from behind his drum set.
It was warm, but bearably so. I had the garage door flung open, as much to catch the salty breeze coming from the water as it was to be able to see my empty driveway, waiting for Serenity’s little Toyota to pull into it.
I was just lifting my bass over my head to set it in its stand and to switch off the buzzing amp when she did just that. I was so glad to see her through her bug-splattered windshield my heart leapt into my throat and I straight up got choked up.
That’s never happened before.
“Hey, she made it!” Finn cried.
“Fucking whatever,” Gideon grumbled, and, yup – it was definitely that fucking little cockbite Angela that’d gotten under his skin.
“You be any kind of rude to her, I’m straight up punching you in the throat; you get me?” I stared him down and he blinked in surprise.
“Shit, so it’s that way, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s that way,” I said and strode past my bike, tucked to one side of the garage, and out into the deepening Florida night.
She popped open her door and swung her legs out, her sandaled feet appearing below the door, touching down on the bright white cement of my driveway.
“Hey, Orchid.”
“Hi,” she said gently, smiling up at me. I reached down and she put her hand in mine and levered herself up out of her seat, groaning.
I laughed lightly. “A little stiff?”
“Oh, no… my feet are killing me. It was a long day on the sales floor.”
“Shit. You need anything brought in?” I asked.
“Um, yeah.” She smiled.
I asked a little eagerly, “You bring it?”
“I did,” she affirmed. “Just point me in the direction of your kitchen and I’ll make some up for you.
“Aw, you’re the best!”
She opened the back door of her car and I shut the front. I picked up her overnight bag and the reusable grocery bag with the goods inside. I’d asked her to bring the stuff to make that killer tea of hers. Had, like, four pitchers on my kitchen counter for her to fill, so I could have some all week. A taste of her, even when she couldn’t be here.
“Oh, hi!” she said as Finn came up to her, once she crossed the threshold into the garage.
“Finn,” he introduced himself.
“Serenity, my friends call me Ren.”
“Nice to meet you, Serenity.” He let go of her hand, and she smiled politely at Gideon and said “Hi.”
“Hey, how’s it going? I’m Gideon.”
“Nice to meet you, Gideon.”
“Nice to see you again, Serenity.”
She blushed and said, “Oh, god. Were you on the beach last week?”
He laughed a little and nodded. “Uh, yeah.”
“I met so many people, and I don’t usually people so hard, so I sort of lost track. I’m so sorry.”
>
“It’s cool, you were kind of having a day, it looked like.”
“Something like that,” she murmured, blushing furiously.
“It’s okay,” I soothed as Rory popped out my kitchen door, skipping down the steps into my garage.
“Hey, she made it!”
“I certainly did,” she said, laughing.
“Alright, break time is almost up,” I said. “Let me get Serenity set in the kitchen and I’ll be back out.”
“Take your time,” Rory said with a wink, and shot Gideon a teasing look.
I ushered Serenity into the house past Rory, and her shoulders eased slightly as soon as the garage door shut behind us.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. There’s always a certain amount of tension meeting new people. It’s me, not your friends, I promise you.”
I set her overnight bag on the floor and the grocery bag on the crappy seventies dining room table and took her hand, reeling her in against my body.
“You do your thing, Orchid. I’ll get through band practice and we’ll have a low-key rest of the night, if you’d like.”
“Sounds good,” she said softly.
“Thought you might like that,” I murmured, and closed the gap between our lips. I kissed her softly, and it was everything I’d been craving since I’d had to leave her on Tuesday morning.
“I missed you,” she murmured, and her voice was uncertain as to how the confession would be received.
“I missed you too, baby.”
“You better get back out there,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.”
“Naw, Gideon’s being an asshole,” I told her. “He can totally wait.”
“God, just the thought of inconveniencing another person in the slightest gives me such a screaming case of anxiety, I don’t know how you do it.”
I laughed softly and told her the truth, “I can be an asshole, too. Two can play at that game.”
“Ah,” she made a sound of understanding, and I pecked another kiss on her lips before stepping back.
“Make yourself at home.”
“I will,” she promised, and I went back out into the garage.
