Текст книги "Tainted Black"
Автор книги: Shanora Williams
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
SEVEN
The next morning, I smelled the crisp, salty scent of bacon. It’d been years since I smelled anything cooking in the mornings. Sitting up, I pushed out of bed and lumbered my way to my bedroom door, cracking it open. The aroma was much stronger as I peeked out. I inhaled, and then my stomach growled.
I felt severely hung over after witnessing Mr. Black with his toy. Something fatty, greasy, and unhealthy was definitely needed to cure me. Brushing my teeth and washing up a bit, I tossed on a pair of sweatpants, tied my hair up, and then hurried downstairs, barefoot. The soles of my feet landed on the wooden floorboards as I met downstairs.
Rounding the corner, I spotted Margie in the kitchen, my father at the bar counter. He sat there, almost lifeless. I came to a halt, watching as he tampered with the edges of the newspaper spread out in front of him.
When I was younger, during the times when he would actually be around, the paper would be in one hand, the other occupied with a piping hot cup of expensive Colombian coffee. But today, both hands were vacant, his stare empty.
Margie spotted me and hurried my way after placing the hot plate of bacon on the counter. “I’m guessing today is one of the bad days?” I asked quietly.
Margie looked at me, eyes full of sorrow. “I’m sorry. Hopefully he comes around. He took his pills. They should help.”
I blinked my tears away, nodding and then sighing as I walked ahead. I took the stool beside him, picking up the box of Cheerios and dumping them into the empty bowl on the counter. “Morning, Dad. How you feeling?”
His head turned vastly, eyes boring into mine. “Dad? I’m not your father.” He blinked, confused. “Hey, lady!” he hollered at Margie, who rushed to his side. “Who is this girl? Why is she calling me her dad?”
“You are her father, Mr. Knight. This is Chloe, your daughter. The one in the pictures on your nightstand.”
He looked around the kitchen. After studying his surroundings for nearly ten seconds, leaving us in an uncomfortable silence, he asked, “Where am I?”
My heart snagged, emotions running wild. I swallowed hard, suddenly in no mood to eat. I started to reach for him, but he quickly jerked his hand away. My eyes instantly burned. I knew I couldn’t take it personally, but how was that humanly possible when the man that helped bring me into this world couldn’t even remember my name? Better yet, his own?
“Uh, Chloe, sweetie,” Margie called, gesturing for me to meet her in the corner in front of the breakfast nook. I slid off my stool, walking her way. “He most likely won’t eat anything crunchy. I made the bacon for you, so feel free to eat it. I was just going to run off to the store for some yogurt and oats. He loves that during days like this. Do you think you can watch him?”
I looked from Margie to my father who was staring at us strangely, almost like he didn’t trust us. His eyes were wide, lips pressed thin, brows knitted. I hugged myself, feeling way too uncomfortable in my own home.
“Or would you rather run the errand for me? I didn’t want to bother you too much—”
“No, no. Please,” I said quickly. “I can go. What kind of yogurt?”
“Any brand is fine as long as it’s vanilla. Any type of oats, preferably honey.” She smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes. “We could tag along with you…”
“No, it’s okay. He should probably stay here.” I forced a smile, backing away and giving my dad one final glance. Margie nodded, tending to my sick father again. Rushing out of the kitchen and up the stairs, I shut my door behind me and stood there for a moment, leaning against it.
Tears wanted to be set free, no doubt, but I kept my shit together. Talking to him felt like many bullets were being shot straight into my heart. It hurt. But I had to suck it up. This was what I signed up for this summer. He was still my dad, whether he remembered me or not.
I changed clothes, clutched my keys, and zoomed downstairs, purposely avoiding having to go into the kitchen again. I made a mental note of the yogurt and oats and jumped into my car, driving straight to the market.
Once inside, I searched through the aisles, coming across the oats. I snagged two bags just in case, and then started for the dairy section. Making the turn, I ended up on aisle nine, and standing in front of the line of milk in the cold box, nearly perplexed as he looked for his brand, was Theodore Black.
I came to a screeching halt, eyes expanded. Out of everyone I could have run into in Bristle Wave, it was Theo. I started to turn back, but he looked up while scratching the scruff on his chin. When he caught sight of me, I could sum up every emotion that most likely flooded his veins. His heart.
Joy.
Sorrow.
Anger.
Confusion.
I stood still for a moment, unable to form words. Speaking wasn’t going to happen on my end… at least, not right away. Theo’s throat worked up and down, and he stepped away from the milk, his head shifting into an angle as he released the cooler’s door.
“Chloe.” His voice was smooth and deep. Like warm honey drizzling throughout my entire body. Delightful. Delicious. “Uh,” he scratched his head. I began to turn, but he called after me, causing me to stop in my tracks. I heard the heavy crunch of his boots swiftly coming in my direction, and in no time, he was standing before me, a precarious smile hidden beneath his goatee. “Damn… how long’s it been?”
“Three years.” My voice was dry. I stepped back.
“I… can’t even believe it.” His eyes roamed my body but, surprisingly, it wasn’t in a sexual manner. “Man, you look great. What brings you back to Bristle this summer?”
“My dad is sick.” I shrugged. “Just here to help him.” I hated that I was being so informal, so rude. But the image of him sleeping with someone else was seared into my brain. I couldn’t get rid of it. It haunted me. I hated him for it. Petty, I know.
Theo’s smile dropped, brows puckering. “Sick? What happened? Is he alright?”
“He has Alzheimer’s and he had a stroke not too long ago. His nurse says he has his days, but I’m sure he’ll be fine.” That was a lie. It was obvious he wasn’t going to be okay. Not for long.
“Damn. I’m sorry.” He seemed really sincere. I used to tell him all about my parents… way before… well, you know. His lips did that thing. The twisty kind of thing that made him appear so innocent, like he wouldn’t hurt a fly. There was something different about him. His eyes were still sad, but he held his head a little higher, his back straighter. He seemed to be doing okay, but just okay. Not great. Not wonderful. Just okay, taking each day one at a time.
“Listen, we should catch up, have some lunch sometime at my place? I bought a grill! Hardly even use the damn thing. Could whip up some burgers, hotdogs, steaks—whatever you want. I can get whatever we need right now, while I’m here.” He looked around the grocery store, smiling a little.
I couldn’t help my stare at him. Why? Why was he acting like we were okay? Like we hadn’t laid our hands on each other? And let’s not forget the fact that I still hadn’t told Izzy? We were taking this to the grave, but he was acting like I was nothing? Like I was a mistake and he wanted to start over—start fresh and get rid of the imprinted memories.
I did my best not to appear upset. “Mr. Black, I should finish shopping. I have to get back to my dad.”
“Oh.” His smile faded, fingers slipping into the front pockets of his loose jeans. He’d added more tattoos to his arms and even his neck. He wore a tight, white V-neck shirt that revealed most of his upper chest, and—wait, hold on. What was that poking through the chest of his shirt? Was that a nipple ring? My goodness. How was I supposed to pretend to be upset with him if he kept making himself even hotter? “Right. I’ll let you go then.” He stepped aside, lips pulling upward in a tight, forced smile.
I did the same, stepping around him and completely forgetting about the yogurt. It was on that aisle, but like a selfish little girl, I wasn’t going to get it until he was gone.
Like an idiot, I walked around the store, waiting until I saw Theo check out up front. He looked around the store while pulling out his wallet. He was most likely looking for me, but I stayed hidden on aisle three with my arms full of yogurt, waiting until he was out the door before going to check out myself.
When my items were bagged, I exited the market, relieved to escape the memories of Theo Black on aisle nine, but low and behold, there he stood.
He was casually propped against the front of his car with his arms crossed. Most of the ink on his biceps was on display. His sleeve was a work of art, each intricate piece a symbol of what he stood for. The bow and arrow for bravery. The skulls for the darkness within him. Even the tribal signs for his wild, primal side.
I started to stop, but a car honked at me, forcing me to keep going. Theo pushed off of his car with a small gleam in his eyes, one that I didn’t quite understand. To me it read, I’m up to something, while also saying, I’m going to get you to talk to me! I don’t care if it’s the last thing I do, Chloe!
I opened my back door, tossing the bags inside. Through my peripheral, I saw him coming closer, his white shirt appearing brighter beneath the blazing sun. I opened my door, started to close it, but he caught it just in time, pulling it open.
“Alright,” he sighed, arms folding again. “What’s the deal here, Little Knight?”
Little Knight.
Ugh.
That name made me want to spasm around him countless times.
“What are you talking about?” I asked instead, maintaining my standoffish behavior.
“I know when you’re upset about something. Shit, if anyone has the right to be upset it should be me.” He cocked a brow. “So why are you upset with me? I haven’t spoken to you in three whole years. Please tell me what I did—why you’re hanging onto a grudge with me.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
He leaned forward, his cologne brushing past my nose. “Sure about that?”
“Positive.” Lies.
He chuckled, eyes locking with mine. “If nothing’s wrong, what’s a harmless grilling out at my place going to do?”
“You know damn well why I can’t come over there.”
“We have a lot to discuss.”
“Yeah, like your new girlfriend,” I scoffed, looking away.
“Oh, so that’s what it is.” He was amused by my response, lips quirked. “But what about you, huh? I heard all about your football playing boyfriend.” His amusement faded. He seemed agitated with the fact that I actually had someone else around after him. I guess we were on the same boat, but I would never admit to it.
“He’s not my boyfriend anymore.” I looked up.
“And she’s not my girlfriend.”
I rolled my eyes, starting my car. “Whatever you say, Mr. Black.” His brown eyes were hard. He hated when I called him that. It reminded him of the old days, back when everything was okay—way before he ever took my virginity. Gripping the wheel, I focused ahead on the parking lot full of cars. Knowing he wasn’t going to leave until he received a response, I calmly said, “I can’t come.”
“Why not?”
“I just… can’t.”
Theo straightened his back, blowing out a breath. Then, he shut my door, and I frowned, watching as he walked away. I thought he’d surely had enough, but I was wrong. He marched around the back of my car, met at my passenger door, opened it, and slid into my coupe, a grin on his lips, one that eerily reminded me of Izzy when she was up to no good.
“You have no excuse. You’re home. You don’t have any homework or tests to hold you back. You obviously have a nurse or someone that can watch over your dad, otherwise he’d be here with you, so come tomorrow night. I’ll have everything ready. Drinks on me.” He flashed a crooked, boyish smile. “I learned how to make frozen margaritas.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“I won’t get out of this car until you say yes.”
I laughed. “I think you’re forgetting that I live a house away from you.”
He wiggled his brows. “And while you go inside, I’ll still be sitting in the car. I won’t leave.”
“Sounds stalkerish.” He chuckled. It was nice to see it actually touch his eyes. I sighed. I didn’t want to give in. I couldn’t. No way. I looked forward again.
“Listen,” he murmured, “I get why you don’t want to come, but I promise I won’t behave the same way I did three years ago. It’ll be… better. I’m not the same sad man you had to take care of back then. I’m better now, and I got a little help.”
“Hmm.”
“What?” He lifted his hands in the air innocently, that crooked grin still present. “I’m serious. I won’t.”
I looked him in the eyes briefly before dropping my line of sight. Inhaling and then exhaling, I finally agreed, but I was still a bit reluctant. “Alright, Theo. But I’m only coming for the food and drinks you promised. Nothing more.”
“Food and drinks. You got it.” The laugh lines around his eyes formed again, his eyes chinking up. Grabbing the handle, he pushed the door open and stepped out of the car, but before taking off, he bent down to look at me. “Tomorrow night. Come around six. No need to knock.” And with that, I was left with a wink and his heart-stuttering smile before he took off, hopped into his Charger, and drove away.
Collecting the emotions that’d easily gone astray, I finally pulled out of the parking lot and drove home, unable to fight the smile that lingered on my lips. I shouldn’t have agreed, but “yes” was the only answer I could give. When a man like Theo looks you in the eyes, pleads, and begs, and then offers food and drinks, you can’t say no. Only a fool would decline.
It worried me that we would get carried away with the drinking, become too comfortable and end up like we were before. But this time, I knew better. I was older, and he said he sought help, which was great. He was in need of it back then, especially when I was no longer able to assist him.
He seemed better, like his head was back on straight again. He seemed content with his life for the most part, but there was some part of him that would always be missing.
Sadly, I wasn’t sure if it was Mrs. Black he was missing or the girl that helped him up to his bedroom during those lonely, drunken nights. Theo confused me, but we were much older now, and I was sure if he could put the past behind him, so could I.
It would be one night of harmless eating and drinking. And then I’d be back home, and soon off to college never to deal with Mr. Black again. One night I could give… right?
EIGHT
The last person I ever thought I’d see again was her.
Chloe. Little Chloe Knight. That girl. The one that made me do unspeakable things. The girl that, somehow, set my soul on fire. The girl that made me feel good and pure and safe, but at the same time bad, dirty, and wrong. There was just something about her.
Despite the age difference and the fact that I’d taken advantage of her innocence, she truly made me feel things I never thought possible. What’s crazy is she made me feel things that I never felt with Janet, and with her, I thought I’d felt it all.
She still looked the same—no, actually she looked better. He wild curls made her look purposely untamable. The sun made her perfect olive skin shine. She had an urban/hippy way of dressing now. Short blue jeans, ripped at the hems. Round sunglasses tucked in the collar of her shirt, feather-like earrings and a ton of bracelets on her wrists. It suited her. She reminded me of young Norah Jones. A girl of sweet melody. A woman of beauty, pain, and bliss.
I don’t know how I managed to still lose my breath around her. So beautiful and still carrying small hints of innocence. She hadn’t changed a bit. She’d matured, all signs of a good thing.
I’d made a promise to myself a long time ago that I would curse her out, grab her roughly, and shake her by the shoulders, demanding an answer as to why she didn’t tell me goodbye. I, of all people in her life, deserved a farewell. Yes, I can admit that three years before I’d gone off the deep end. I was losing my shit, losing my fucking way, but I still deserved a little regard.
I guess none of that mattered. Everything I said I would do when I saw her again, didn’t dare happen. Just the mere sight of her made my heart do cartwheels, my cock pulse.
Her body had matured too. She was blessed in all the right ways. The chime of her laughter was beautiful, riding straight to my crotch. She still laughed the same. I remembered that, and also the way she moaned. How she cried and even how she whispered my name. I remembered everything as soon as I laid eyes on her in that grocery store.
But she pretended I was nothing—like none of what we did mattered anymore. I feared that maybe she’d gotten over me, or worse—that she was going to rat me out. I needed to know if she’d changed, so dinner was the motive.
She denied.
I refused to take no for an answer, so I waited in the parking lot, the sun beaming down on me. She tried to hide; I saw her ducking in the aisle. I got a kick out of it, laughing as I saw her coming out, shocked to see me standing right there, only a few yards away from her car.
She was a smart girl, but she knew how I was. I was persistent. I didn’t give up, and when she finally agreed to dinner, I’d never felt more relieved. In that moment, I knew she’d still kept that secret to herself.
Come on. It was Chloe for Christ sake. She held all of my secrets, and I held hers. I told no one about what happened between us. Those were moments that only we could talk about, moments that meant so much.
I felt horrible for hurting her, but it was time to make it right.
I thought I was past this girl, but I was so damn wrong.
Seeing her brought me right back to where we started, wanting to reel her in. Make her feel better, because the pain, hurt, and sorrow was all too clear. I needed to make up for my mistakes.
I wanted to make her feel like a virgin all over again—only this time, I’d know better. I would take my time, handle her correctly, like a virgin is supposed to be treated. With kindness. Gentleness. Care.
I would make her grateful that it was me who popped her sweet, delicate cherry, and I bet she would never leave without saying goodbye again.
NINE
The following day was terrifying. Not only was Dad worse, but he was also running a high fever and refusing to take his medicine. Without his memory, he was a mad man. Margie and I spent three relentless hours trying to calm him. She ended up crushing one of the pills and dumping it in his yogurt. The pill soothed him a lot.
By six that evening, he was in bed, numb as he watched a game of golf. I felt bad for him. I hated that we had to trick him into getting calm, tell him who we were and that we were there to help him not hurt him. He didn’t trust us.
Not only was Dad’s behavior taking a toll on my mind, but someone else’s dad was as well—Izzy’s. I planned on going over around 7:30, even though he said 6:00. It would be a late dinner and a late round of drinks, but it would give me an excuse to leave as soon as possible, you know, since it would already be kind of late? I planned on staying for about an hour.
Yeah¸ that was the plan anyway.
It took me a while to find something to wear. I was about to put on a dress, but then I realized how easy it would be for him to sneak a hand beneath. Shorts would have been too revealing, but it was really hot. I refused to put on jeans or look like an idiot by wearing sweatpants during the middle of summer.
So, I tugged on some self-made jean shorts, a white blouse with the sleeves cutoff, fixed my curly mane, and applied an Indian-styled headband, and then I was out of the door.
The walk took less than a minute, but as I walked across, it felt like it’d taken a lifetime. The garage gate was open, and Theo was just walking out, opening the deep freezer. He took out a pack of unthawed steaks (I’m guessing he was keeping them cool), and when he heard my footsteps, he looked up. I threw up a quick wave, unable to hide my smile as I spotted him. He looked… amazing. And I was sure he hadn’t even tried.
It was simple, really. Cargo shorts, a black T-shirt that hugged his firm body, and a pair of black Nikes. His hair looked like it’d just been trimmed, washed, and styled. It wasn’t this way yesterday. Did he do this for me, or was it that time of month for a routine haircut? Either way, his attire was effortless, his entire appearance mouthwatering.
“Little Knight!” he chimed, holding his hands out. I walked into the garage, past his bike that had greasy tools surrounding it. “Didn’t think you’d show.” He held up the pack of steak, taking a quick glance at it before looking at me again. “I was just about to season these T-bones and toss them on the grill.”
“Sounds great.” Turning, he opened the door and held it open, allowing me inside. It’d been a while since I last set foot in this home. The last time was that night… the night that changed everything.
I walked in ahead of him, slipping out of my sandals and then walking to the kitchen. There were empty margarita glasses set up on the island counter. The house looked different, more modern than the upscale look Mrs. Black tried to uphold.
He’d changed the black appliances to silver, and there were now two ovens in the wall across from me. The flat stovetop was built on top of the island counter that took up the center of the spacious kitchen. Theo walked in after me, barefoot now. I supposed the Japanese tradition was the only thing he hung on to.
“Why’d you think I wouldn’t show?” I asked as I sat at one of the cushioned barstools at the island.
Theo walked on the opposite side, drawing out a butcher’s knife and cutting through the plastic that was wrapped around the steaks. While pulling out the T-bones, he shrugged and said, “It’s nearing eight o’clock. Dinner is usually served somewhere between five and seven.” One of his cheeks tugged up, forming a crooked grin.
“My… dad isn’t doing so well.” I looked away. “I was at the store yesterday because all he’ll eat is vanilla yogurt during his bad days. Bought a ton.”
“Man.” He shook his head. “Can’t believe what he’s going through. Now that you finally get to spend time with him, he’s—” His words quickly stopped flowing when he realized where he was headed and how much it would pain me to hear.
The thing about Theo was he kind of had no filter. He spoke his mind. He didn’t care if feelings happened to get hurt. Izzy used to hate when he’d blast her in front of our friends or during sleepovers. He was a real man, one that didn’t sugarcoat shit, not even his own feelings.
He turned and walked to the sink to rinse the steaks off, putting an end to that conversation. After doing so, he glanced over his shoulder, smiling again. “Come here.” He gestured for me to come with a cock of his head.
“For…?”
“I took up some culinary classes. Wanna show you something.” One shoulder lifted in a shrug, as if he didn’t want his pride for cooking to show. “Lots of time on my hands now. You know how to cook?”
“If Ramen noodles and PB&J sandwiches count, then I guess so.”
He laughed, watching as I slid off the stool and walked his way. He pulled out the wet steak and then took a step to his left, placing them on a cutting board. Grabbing the meat hammer from a case containing various kitchen appliances, he tore off a sheet of plastic cling wrap and then set them aside. “That doesn’t count,” he chuckled, eyes bright. “But I’ll teach you a little something.” He pointed to something next to me. “Grab those seasonings, will you?”
I reached for the bowls of seasonings and started to give them to him, but he held up his hands. “Nah!”
“What?” I asked.
“This is all you.”
“Oh no,” I shook my head, shoving them against his chest. “The meat will be so salty. It’d be better if the professional did it.”
Smiling, he grabbed the seasonings and placed them on the counter. “Fine. But you’re pounding.” He picked up the hammer, handed it to me, and then placed the plastic sheet on top of the steaks. “Come on.”
My eyes flickered up at him, uneasy. “What if I fuck it up?”
“Well, now.” His eyes were slightly expanded, still warm. Comforting. “Someone grew a potty mouth while they were away, huh?”
“Sorry,” I apologized as he stepped aside.
“Don’t even worry about it. You should hear Izzy. I think she forgets she’s actually speaking to her dad when we’re on the phone sometimes.”
“Yeah,” I released a breathy laugh. When he noticed he mentioned his daughter, a draft of seriousness passed by us. It was so easy to talk to him, so easy to fall for such a beautiful, easy-going person. But it helped that he’d brought her up. It made me realize instantly that I wasn’t here to play nice or even play house. I was here for dinner and drinks.
Dinner and drinks.
Drinks and dinner.
Whatever.
“Alright,” he held his hands out, pointing towards the steak and quickly getting off the subject of his daughter. “Have at it. Beat it ‘til it’s blue.”
Laughing, I lifted the hammer and slammed it onto the red meat. Theo walked away, pushing the doors open that led to the deck. He checked the temperature of the grill, and I couldn’t help my wandering eyes.
He moved swiftly, fluidly. There was something about him now. He walked lighter, head higher, but there was still a small cloud of darkness hovering above his head—one that would never go away. Not until he came to peace with his past. Or, better yet, stopped blaming himself for things he couldn’t control.
When he was back inside, he dusted his hands and walked my way. The closer he got, the tenser I became. It was then that I realized he had a spritz of cologne on. It was an earthy scent, drifting past my nose, the smell of the seasonings long gone as he met at my side. His arm brushed mine, his hand reaching over me to grab the flavorings.
“Okay. I think we’re good,” he said as I slammed the hammer down once more. He grabbed a few pinches of the garlic, pepper, and a mix of salts he’d put together, smearing them on the steaks with his fingers. “I’m gonna toss these babies on the grill now. I’ll whip us up some margaritas while they cook.” He picked up a pan, placed the T-bones inside, and walked to the deck, winking before stepping outside.
“Sounds good.” I sighed, ignoring the flutters that thrashed in my belly. Theo placed the steaks on the grill, and I walked out with an inquisitive gaze, watching as he flipped them back and forth in peace.
Taking notice of my stare, he briefly looked at me with a hint of amusement on his face. “Something on your mind?”
“I’m just… curious about something.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“I don’t know,” I hummed, sitting on the bench a few inches away from the grill. I folded my legs, looked up, and caught him staring at them, running his gaze up and down. He avoided my eyes as he looked away, pretending to focus on the grilled meat. I pretended I didn’t notice him looking. “You seem much better now, Mr. Black.”
He huffed a laugh, placing his fork down. “Alright, there you go with that Mr. Black thing. Chloe,” he murmured, turning my way and stepping closer. “You can call me Theo. I realize there’s a big elephant in the room—one we should probably address. If you want, we can talk it out. Hopefully that’ll get you to ease up. You seem… tense. See, I wanted to wait to talk about that, but if you insist.”
“No—it’s not that,” I quickly responded. “I just… have a lot on my plate. And if it really makes you feel better, I will call you Theo. Not Mr. Black.”
“Good. I’d appreciate that.” He picked up the silver fork again. “As for that elephant in the room, how about we just let him go, pretend he was never here.”
“Is that what you want?” I questioned.
His eyes met mine. “Is that what you want?”
“I think it’d be best,” I admitted, but there was a little lie behind that statement.
“Whatever you want, Little Knight.” I’m not sure he noticed, but a faint smile touched his lips, one I was sure he meant to hide. He knew there was still something sparking here, something really, really hard to ignore. Fireworks popped. Electricity zinged and zapped, shooting straight to my core.
Inhaling deeply, I stood and watched as he flipped the steaks once more and then took them off the grill. “Looks good!” I said.
“Think so?”
“Yes. I’ve been dying for a really good steak lately.”
“Well it’s a good thing you’re in town, huh?” He revealed one of his dimples, and I followed him inside. Once the pan was out of his hands, he went for the fridge, pulling out a jug of lime margarita juice and then some ice from the freezer. He went for the blender, and asked, “So, school is good? Liking USC?”
“Oh, I love it! I mean at first I didn’t like my roommate, but she’s cool now. I get her.”
“You were never the type to really make friends,” he said.
“Yeah, my dad said the same thing.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes having too many friends leads to trouble… and stress. Trust me, it took me a very long time to come to terms with that conclusion.”
“Yeah, I’ve only seen one friend come over. Wasn’t his name Mr. Brant or something? Cool guy.”
“Yeah… about that…” He looked away, dumping ice into the blender. “Mr. Brant only wanted one thing. Had to let him go.”
My lips twisted. “What do you mean?”
“Money…” His eyebrows pulled together. “When he found out about what happened to Janet, he showed up more often. Found out he was only taking advantage of my situation, getting closer to me for the few checks I’d receive due to her loss.”
“What?” I gasped. “Seriously?”
He nodded.
“What an asshole.”
“Agreed.” He turned on the blender, crushing the crushed ice even further, filling the room with a loud whirring noise. I toyed with the cotton edges of the placemat in front of me, focusing on the horizontal prints.
“I would never do that to anyone. It seems so… wrong,” I said over the noise.
“Well, I could give him the benefit of the doubt by saying his mom had finally kicked him out and he had just been fired from a well-paying truck-driving job, but I won’t. He’s an adult. I was going through a hard time, and to try and take advantage of me at my weakest point is pretty fucked up. I understand not having money, but all he had to do was ask. I always look out for the people I care about. He knows this. Instead, he tried to steal it, going through my papers to see if he could find a pin number to my accounts. I caught him in my office one night.” His head shook, the disappointment unmistakable. “But, it is what it is.” The blender came to a hush, and he poured two glasses, one for himself and one for me. After digging in the drawer in front of him, he pulled out a purple straw and tossed it into one of the glasses, sliding it across the counter.
