Текст книги "Losing Her "

Автор книги: Mariah Dietz

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Sometimes I wish I could have talked you into going to the gym. You refused. That was okay, it gave me time to spend with Wes, Landon, and Jameson. Still, I remember watching you on a few separate occasions while you were playing soccer and seeing the intense focus as you worked and how hot it was. But, you refused to go. Referring to it as … I have to get this one right … the epicenter of bacterial growth. You said you liked the people that went even less because you felt they used it as a place to find dates. I’d laughed when I first heard your theory, and then began realizing you were pretty spot on.

Landon, Jameson and I were returning from the gym. Jameson was doing a nearly perfect impersonation of Wes trying to hit on a girl that had us all cracking up.

Kendall was watching TV in the living room alone, causing me to question where you were. When Kendall wasn’t doing something with Jameson, she was nearly always with you. Even when you were studying, or reading, she’d sit beside you, watching crap that no one cared about.

“Where’s Ace?” I asked her as she turned to look at us.

“I think she’s reading. She’s been quiet all afternoon.” She looked slightly defeated, revealing she’d tried to coax you out. I remember thinking you had a test for anatomy that was coming up that had you a little nervous. I don’t know why, you knew that shit backwards and forwards.

I climbed the stairs and found you curled on my bed with a book propped up on you knees, a wad of tissues tightly bunched in your fist that you wiped your cheek with.

You spent a fair amount of your time buried behind the pages of different novels. Sometimes reading non-fiction that led you to share about projections and people we’d usually never heard of, and questions you wished to ask. Primarily, you stuck to fiction, explaining that you enjoyed the breaks into other realities. I loved when you got so wrapped up in a book that your awareness of the surrounding world seemed to be completely lost. It was one of my favorite times to sit back and just appreciate your beauty, something that if I tried to do while you weren’t fully distracted, made you blush and squirm.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” I asked, dropping my gym bag and crossing the room in a few steps.

You gave me a weak smile in greeting as you shook your head and placed your phone in the book as an unorthodox book mark, something that constantly led to it being misplaced. “It’s nothing. This book is just really emotional,” you explained, fanning your face. “I’m fine.”

You’ve never been very emotional. At that point we’d been together for seven months and I had only seen you cry maybe a handful of times. This was the second due to a book. Even after those first initial days following your dad passing, I never saw you cry.

“Want to take a breather? Go get something to eat?”

You nodded, wiping your cheek again with your tissue as another tear escaped.

“Let me just take a shower, okay?” I asked, gently running my thumb across your cheekbone.

“Can I come with you?” Your eyes were wide, and brimmed with tears.

I felt like silly putty. You could have asked for the moon and I would have worked to find a way. I’d have done anything for you. Anything, but let you go. Why did you need space, Ace? What in the hell got you so damn freaked out?

“I need you right now. I need to be close to you.” Your voice came out sounding strained as another stray tear coursed down your cheek.

I leaned over and softly kissed you to see if I was misinterpreting your intentions. Your arms wrapped around my neck, and you pulled yourself into my lap. Normally, you refused to touch me until after I showered, naming off a list of bacterial germs prevalent in gyms.

Standing up, I carried you into the bathroom where I set you on the counter. Your face was stoic as I turned the water on to get hot and started to undress, kicking off my shoes and peeling off my socks and shorts. I stood in front of you, waiting for some sort of sign to confirm you wanted to continue. Your eyes welled with tears again, and it shocked me how I felt physical pain at the sight.

“Max, I love you. I don’t think I could ever love someone as fully and completely as I love you. I’m in love with you, and I’m in love with being in love with you, and I just need you to know how much I love you.” I’m completely serious, you said ‘I love you’ that many times in those short sentences.

We used the term ‘I love you’ pretty openly and often. Perhaps it was because it was the first time that either of us had directed it toward anyone outside of our families. But right then, the words felt like so much more, like an oath.

“I love you, Ace. I love you so, so much.”

You wrapped your arms around my bare shoulders, pulling me closer.

“Thank you,” you whispered, running a hand up the back of my head and the other along my jaw, before you kissed me.

“Max, I need you.”

Those words set a need in me that spread like a wildfire. I grabbed the hem of your shirt and quickly pulled it over your head, then made quick work of unhooking your bra and slipping it off your shoulders before removing your shorts and underwear. With one move, I yanked you forward on the counter, spreading your legs for me to step between. Your ankles hooked behind my back, urging me forward, and I felt you all around me as you released a frustrated moan.

My hands slid from your hips, curling under your thighs. The look of sadness had vanished, replaced with love and the excited gleam that built whenever we made love. There was a need in your eyes that I could feel in my bones. It was more than a physical need, it was an emotional need that I could fully understand. I still do.

I leaned you against the rounded edge of the vanity then slowly buried myself in you, trying not to just focus solely on the pleasure it provided, but also on the sound of your breaths as they increased, and the slight sting of your fingers, digging into my shoulders. I watched your neck muscles loosen, making your head fall back in satisfaction. Then your eyes slowly opened, and all I saw, was love.

I take a few deep breaths as my eyes sweep the darkness. My breaths are shallow and my chest prickles with sweat. Looking beside me, I see nothing but pillows and blankets before my head falls back against them and I let out a long breath. God, I’ve missed that look lately, and I hate myself for wondering if some other guy has seen it.

The following day, Erin comes over. I’m desperate to erase the images of her that infected my dreams last night. Wes meanders into the kitchen and retrieves a bowl for cereal, looking groggy and disheveled when she shows up, announcing an airy hello as she heads to the fridge with a plastic bag over her wrist.

Wes’s head jerks to follow her. His eyebrows are furrowed as his neck snaps back to me. His eyes are filled with accusation, which leaves me feeling defensive.

“What the hell?” he mouths.

“I hope you don’t mind. I brought over some cabbage soup. It’s this new diet I’m doing,” Erin explains, wadding up the bag as she walks to the trash.

Wes’s head turns to her again and then back to me. “Cabbage soup?” he hisses.

I dismiss his look of disgust and watch her saunter toward me in a mini skirt and shoes that look like a balancing act. Her shirt scoops so low on her chest that little is left to my imagination.

She sidles up next to where I’m leaning against the kitchen island and smiles at me. The urge to return it is absent because her fake nails scratch at my chest. I instantly catch her fingers in mine to stop her. I don’t know if she means anything by the simple act, but the sensation sends a cruel reminder of her, recalling as she used to unknowingly scratch lightly at my stomach when she was turned on.

“You want to go shopping? I think I earned myself a new purse Saturday night.” Erin’s smile turns coy and she winks at me, making my fingers loosen around hers. Recounting her mouth being on me makes me question if I’m going about things the right way. The problem is, I can’t remember a goddamn thing about how this shit used to feel before her. Wes’s spoon clanks against the bowl, breaking me from scrutinizing what in the hell I’m doing.

“Hey, dude, did you pass out on the couch last night?” Jameson walks into the kitchen in a pair of mesh shorts, wiping his eyes as he stretches his neck.

“Yeah, but I’m going to get out of here,” Wes replies.

Jameson’s hand falls at Wes’s annoyed tone and his eyes sweep the kitchen and stop when they land on Erin. He’s already met her a handful of times, but the two have had little in the way of a conversation. Hell, I’ve had little in the way of a conversation with Erin.

“Are you coming to class today?” Wes loads his bowl in the dishwasher and though it’s obvious his question is directed toward me, he doesn’t look for my response.

“I don’t know.” I can’t fucking pay attention in class. When it’s too quiet, or too calm my mind tends to gravitate to places I can’t afford for it to go. Lectures seem to be one of the worst offenders of my loud thoughts. I’m focused on this track of forgetting. Forgetting what I felt, thought, experienced, everything. I’m working at forgetting her completely.

“Please don’t go. I want to hang out,” Erin whines, pressing further against me, making me swallow my painful thoughts.

“I don’t think your patients will be enthralled to learn you skipped class to go on shopping expeditions,” Wes counters, slamming the dishwasher closed.

“You want to be a doctor?” Erin gapes at me. Her steely eyes are wide and filled with excitement.

The first time I told her I was going to school to be a surgeon, I wasn’t sure what to expect. A lot of people looked at me and laughed, as though I’d only ever amount to some punk-ass kid. Girls often had matching expressions to Erin’s, looking giddy about the prospective idea, but she had looked at me and furrowed her brow, asking why.

I told her the story about Smoky that led me to feeling so passionate and sure about wanting to become a doctor that I had enrolled in school.

Her brown eyes were vacant a couple of moments, and I knew she was thinking of something else. Then slowly they brightened as a smile formed on her lips, and she began to nod. “You found your calling.”

Is it my calling? I feel like I’m questioning everything these days, including this. People don’t understand that becoming a doctor isn’t just about the crazy expenses of school tuition, and years that you spend in a classroom followed by more years of being in a hospital, learning. You’re making the conscious decision to dedicate your life to saving others. Am I capable of this?

“Hmmmm.”

I blink several times, trying to shove the thoughts aside and look to Jameson. He’s scratching his head and looking around the kitchen uneasily. I can see him searching for the words to say to end this conversation.

Wes doesn’t give a shit. He’s as brazen as Kendall can be. “He’s going to be a surgeon as long as he remains focused and remembers what’s important.”

Erin doesn’t reply. She’s an expert at ignoring things she doesn’t want to hear; it’s one of the few things I’ve learned about her. She begins petting my chest in a motion that briefly distracts me and makes me wonder what in the hell she’s doing.

Zeus wanders in the kitchen followed by a sleepy looking Kendall, who takes in the lot of us and quietly sighs.

She walks directly to Erin and me, and my muscles tense. Sticking out her hand, she forces a tight smile on her lips that I know is fake. “We haven’t formally been introduced. I’m Kendall.”

I feel a little guilty for not having introduced the two. I haven’t introduced Erin to anyone. I haven’t really seen the point. The only reason she’s spoken to Jameson is because she’s been around a few times when he was home, and J doesn’t know the definition of a stranger. He introduced himself and had no problem making an effort to make conversation with her. The first time hadn’t gone too bad, he’d had to go to work and cut things short, but the second time, had been a little more awkward when she forgot meeting him the week before. I’ll give it to him, the smartass smirk turned genuine within seconds of me looking at him.

“Kendall, that’s a hot name!” Erin cries, placing her hand in Kendall’s.

Kendall gives her a parting smile, obviously satisfied in finding that Erin is proving her suspicions to be correct.

“What’s your name?” Wes asks as Kendall buries her head in the fridge.

“Erin,” she chirps. “What’s yours, handsome?”

“Wes.”

“Wes, that’s hot!”

Kendall closes the fridge enough that she can look over to us with a look that screams her thoughts of Erin being a moron.

“I’ve got to get out of here. You should go to class, Miller,” Wes adds. As he passes me, his shoulder crashes into mine and he doesn’t turn around. He disappears out the front door without another word.

“Hi, sweetheart, it’s Mom. Your brothers will be here at three on Thursday. I was hoping you’d arrive a little early if you don’t have anything else going on. I’d like to hear how things are going.” There’s a brief pause. “We won’t discuss anything about … it, I promise. I just want to see you.”

Guilt pangs me, knowing I’m causing her to feel the sadness that’s evident in her voice. We’ve all lost David, but that was the tip of the iceberg. After she left, I knew my mom’s and Muriel’s relationship became strained. I’m sure largely because of me, but she assured me that she made the choice because she didn’t agree with Muriel’s actions following David’s death, feeling she was being disrespectful by moving on so quickly.

I hit a couple of buttons to call her, and hear the phone ring twice before she answers it.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, sweetheart!” Relief floods her tone. “How are you doing?”

“Good. How are you?” I haven’t seen my mom in a couple of months now, not since I was there after the camping trip in August. I avoid going home and make excuses for her to come here.

“I’m good. Did you get my message?”

I hear a flood of voices and sounds behind her. “Are you still at work?” I ask, glancing at the clock and seeing that it’s past nine.

“Yeah, I’m just wrapping some things up. It’s not a big deal.”

I should ask her why she’s there so late, make sure everything’s going alright, but I’ve been so absent lately, I feel like asking will just make it more pronounced, so I don’t. “I was going to bring someone with me Thursday. I just wanted to call and make sure it’s alright.”

I pull the phone away from my ear to see if the phone has disconnected as silence greets me. I watch the seconds tick and put it back to my ear. “Mom?”

“Yes, sorry …” I hear her swallow and can picture her frazzled expression as she tries to act nonchalant. “Of course, you can bring someone, sweetheart. Are you bringing Wes?”

She’s fishing. She used to think that her mom was the only person that was overly interested in her children’s business. Muriel had been a bit consumed with knowing everything, but the fishing is a trait I think girls develop at a young age and master the day their children are born.

“No, her name’s Erin.”

My mom’s silent for another beat. “That’s terrific, honey. I’m so excited to meet her and to see you!” I notice that her pitch is a little higher than normal.

“We’ll be there around noon.”

“Terrific! That’s just terrific.”

“Mom, stop saying terrific. I’ll see you Thursday.”

“Terr—” She clears her throat. “That will be great, honey. I’ll see you then.”

I hang up and toss my phone on the bed, releasing a deep breath. Erin has been heavily hinting about spending time with me for the holiday, pressuring me about going to San Francisco to meet her family. I’m not about to go traipsing into that bear trap and figure this will suffice.

I’ve been dreading Thanksgiving since October. Some memories are easier to suppress than others. Last Thanksgiving is a memory I don’t think I’ll ever be able to erase.

“What are your brothers’ names again?” Erin asks as she flips through the radio stations, stopping when she gets to an unfamiliar rap song.

“Hank and Billy.”

“And their wives names are … Sam and …”

I glance over and see her looking lost in thought as she works to recall Molly’s name. “Sarah and Molly,” I provide.

“Molly!” she cries. “That’s a hot name!”

Sarah’s going to eat me alive.

I diligently work to avoid looking next door as we pull into my mom’s driveway, and hear Zeus’s soft whines from behind me.

As soon as I open the door to let him out, he makes a mad dash to the Bosse residence and whines, pawing at the door.

“Zeus!” I call, clapping my hands a couple of times. “Zeus, come here, boy!”

“Hey, mongrel.” I glance up as Mr. Janes crosses the street, clapping his hands firmly together. Zeus turns to acknowledge him and lets out another whimper before putting his head down and walking over to him.

Mr. Janes runs a hand over his back and roughly pats his flank a few times. “They’re out of town. Went to Hawaii for the week.”

“Who did?” Erin asks, coming around the front of my truck.

“You got a new everything, huh?” Mr. Janes comments, ignoring her question. His eyes fall back to Zeus as he pats him a few more times. “I’m glad you took him. I was worried about him after she left. With David gone, and her being gone, he wasn’t been the same.” It’s as though he knows I can’t hear the sound of her name. “How could anyone be?” He looks at me, and his lips press together in what I think is supposed to be a smile, but instead, they curve down in a frown.

“Max?”

I turn to look over my shoulder and see my mom striding toward us, her brown hair’s wrapped up in a clip and an apron’s tied around her waist.

“Jack, how are you doing? How’s Ethel?”

Mr. Janes shrugs and looks back to Zeus. “She’s feeling alright, I suppose. Our kids are over helping to cook dinner because she’s not supposed to be puttering around right now.”

My mom gives him a sympathetic look that he doesn’t see as he pats Zeus some more. “I baked a pie for you guys. I’ll send it over in a bit.”

Mr. Janes nods a few times and then backs away before looking up at us. “You take care,” he says, and then turns and shuffles back across the street to his house.

I watch the door close before I turn around and feel my mom’s arms encase me. “What happened to Ethel?” I ask as I wrap an arm around her shoulder.

“She fell and broke her hip a few weeks ago.”

I’d hardly known the Janes’ prior to last summer. He’d acknowledge my presence as I drove by with a brief nod, and that was about it. Once I started hanging around her, though, he suddenly took notice of me, talking to me if he saw me out in my driveway, telling me old stories about The Korean War, and of his brothers being in World War II, and how all five of his older brothers had returned alive, something that was a great feat at that time.

He spoke proudly of them and the rest of his family, but he held a special note when he spoke of his wife, Ethel. They’ve been married for over fifty years, and he makes it abundantly clear that she’s the love of his life. Jack offered me unsolicited advice on women and relationships every chance he got.

“Is she okay?”

My mom lets out a small sigh as she releases me, still grasping my hand within hers. “She will be. Jack wouldn’t allow it any other way.” She laughs and turns to face Erin.

“You must be Erin! I’m Sharon. It’s so nice to meet you!”

Erin’s face is covered with excitement as her arms fly open. She launches herself into my mom’s arms with an alarming force that causes her to take a step back. “I’m so excited to meet you!” Erin cries, holding my mom in a hug longer than normal acceptability usually allows.

I watch my mom’s hands pat her on the back a few times, the universal sign of the hug being over and it being time to release, but Erin remains clutched to her for another long moment.

“Why don’t we go inside?” Mom offers.

I don’t retrieve bags from the truck. We’re not staying the night. We’ll be here long enough to spend some time with my mom and family and then head back to San Diego. A few hours will be more than enough.

“I’m so sorry, what’s your name again? I keep wanting to call you something else, but I know you’re not her.”

I turn to glare at Sarah, who’s smiling sweetly at Erin. Thankfully, Erin’s oblivious to the insinuations she’s been dealt all night.

Sarah’s eyes dart to mine as I keep my glare focused on her, and she raises her eyebrows with a challenge. I don’t know if she’s daring me to get pissed or to object.

“Erin,” she answers as her eyes scan over the table filled with food, “with an E.”

I divert my attention, feeling Sarah staring at me, and hear Hank’s soft laughter.

“How’s school going?” Mom asks.

“Jack, don’t you throw that!” Sarah warns as Jack holds a roll in his hand, ready to launch it at his younger brother, Henniger.

He looks at her with a deflated smirk and drops the roll to his plate.

“Good, busy,” I reply.

“He goes to class a lot,” Erin adds. I don’t go to more than half of my classes, though I often use the excuse of class to get some time away from her.

“He wants to be a surgeon,” Molly says, grasping a spoon filled with mashed potatoes from her son, Joel.

“I know!” Erin’s hand runs across my thigh, snaking up toward my waist.

“And how’s Jameson and Landon?” My mom’s voice is sincere, her eyes warm. She was disappointed when she learned they had both made other plans for the holiday. I’m sure it was to avoid spending the day with me. They both love my mom and would likely have been willing to sit through this meal, even though she can’t cook worth shit.

I feel Erin’s hand clasp around me, making me involuntarily jerk forward and knock my plate into my water glass.

“Good. Landon’s still working with Homeland Security and really likes it,” I manage to choke out, while grabbing Erin’s hand to redirect it. I press my knees together, trying to not grit my teeth as I continue. “Jameson’s been working at an office with an apprenticeship and is already considering going back to school.” Her hand evades mine and grips onto me again like a vise.

Hank laughs and my eyes snap to him as I work to wrestle Erin’s hand away from me, fearing he knows what she’s doing.

“Tell him to give it some time. He’ll be fine.” Hank also studied economics at school and has shared his struggles with getting acquainted with the industry.

“So, Erin, what is it that you do?” my mom asks, scooping up a bite of turkey. Her eyes briefly dance to Erin, but never remain on her for long. It’s a reaction I’m not used to ever having seen from her.

“Nothing right now,” Erin answers, finally dropping her hand after I bat it away again. “I’m working to become a personal trainer. Fitness is really important to me.”

“Really, that’s great!” my mom remarks with too much enthusiasm as her eyes take another fleeting trip Erin’s direction. “Are you from San Diego?”

“No, I’m from the bay area. My parents still live up there.”

“What brought you to San Diego?” Sarah prompts.

“Well, I’d gone to LA to do modeling. I wanted to be an actor and things didn’t really work out.”

“An actor?” I hear the note of surprise in Sarah’s voice, and smirk. “What kind of acting?”

“Well, I did a couple of adult films, but they have these crazy contracts and I wasn’t willing to go through with some of the things they wanted me to do.”

I hear a couple of them choke on their drinks and food, and stare at my pile of green beans that I haven’t touched because they weren’t even lukewarm when they came out of the oven. I wish I could be anywhere but here at this moment. How in the fuck did I not know she’d been in adult films? I’m never going to live this moment down.

“What’s an adult film? Is that like The Avengers?” Hunter asks, and I hear Billy choke on his food from beside me.

“Yes,” Sarah and my mom reply instantly in unison.

After dinner, Sarah, Erin, and my mom sit in the living room while Molly goes out to smoke and my brothers and I clear the table and get things put away. I feel nervous to be so far from their conversation, fearing what other ammunition she’s going to provide Sarah with.

“Worried?” Billy teases as he cuts another piece of pie sitting at the end of the bar as I wash a platter. I watch as he scoops it onto his plate and then runs his finger through the whipped cream, popping it in his mouth with a satisfied smack.

I situate the platter in the cupboard above the plates and grab the pan the potatoes had been boiled in, so I can soak it. “Why would I be worried?”

“A porn star? How in the hell did you not know she was a porn star?” Hank interrupts, bringing in the last of the dishes from the table and making Billy cackle. “Sarah’s going to have my balls for that one!”

“The boys didn’t have any idea what she was talking about,” I retort.

“He didn’t know it either! Didn’t you see the shock on his face?” Billy sounds way too amused and it makes me want to throw the measuring cup I’m rinsing at his fat head.

“Yeah, I saw the shock. That’s why I asked how in the hell he didn’t know!”

“It’s not a big deal,” I reply nonchalantly, moving my gaze to be level with Hank’s to demonstrate that I don’t care.

“Yes, it’s a big deal! You brought a fucking porn star home for Thanksgiving!”

“I don’t know that you can classify her as a star. She said she only made a couple of films,” Billy objects.

Hank’s eyes cut to him, wiping the smile from his face. His eyes return to mine, still narrowed. “Look, dude, I know this has been a rough year for you, but don’t go jumping into bed with a porn star just because shit sucks. Otherwise, it’s going to suck a whole hell of a lot more.”

Hank stomps out of the room. I wait for Billy to make another joke about the situation, or ask for her last name so he can look her up, because he totally will.

“I personally don’t look at the profession of adult movie actors with disgust like our godly brother Hank. Granted, there’s no way I’d be okay with my woman screwing other men …” His words trail off as he silently thinks about it, and I thank God I can’t hear his thoughts. “Anyways,” he says, shaking his head, “it’s not just that she was in some adult movies. It’s obvious you aren’t interested in her, and it’s pretty obvious she’s a little too interested in you wanting to be a doctor. You’re better than this, kid.” He stands up and grabs his plate of pie and leaves me with a sink full of dirty dishes and his first piece of brotherly advice he’s ever bestowed upon me.