Percent Mine

Dedication
ForRoland,theFlamethrowers,
andmeContents
Cover
TitlePage
Dedication
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9
Chapter10
Chapter11
Chapter12
Chapter13
Chapter14
Chapter15
Chapter16
Chapter17
Chapter18
Chapter19
Chapter20
Chapter21
Acknowledgments
P.S.Insights,Interviews&More…*
AbouttheAuthor
AbouttheBook
ReadOn
Praise
AlsobySallyThorne
Copyright
AboutthePublisherChapter1
NobodytaughtmethiswhenIfirststartedasabartender,butluckily,Iwasaquicklearner:Whenagroupofmenarewalkingin,youshouldworkoutwhichoneisthealpha.
Ifyoucanhandlehim,youmightgetabitofrespectfromtherest.Tonight,Icanpickhimstraightaway.He’sthetallestandbest-looking,withayou’rewelcomegleaminhiseye.Howpredictable.
Heandhisfriendshavespilledoutofalocalfratparty,boredandwantingadventure.They’reallwearingpastelpoloshirts.Well,buckleup,buttercups.Ifyouplayyourcardsright,thingscouldgetdownrightexhilarating.Devil’sEndBarisnotforthefaintofheart.Iseesomeofthebikersexchangeamusedlooksoverthepooltables.Bythedoor,oursecurityguyissittingupstraighter.Weirdhowwehavethemosttroublewhenthistypeofboywalksin.
Idon’tsmileatthealpha.“Areyoulost,kids?”
“Heythere,mister,”heresponds—ajabatmyshorthaircut—andhisfriendslaughandintone,“Ohhhhshit.”
MynameisDarcyandhe’sunknowinglymadeaJaneAustenjoke.Idoubthe’dgetit.ThelaughfadesoutofhimalittleasInarrowmyeyesandstareharder.AlphaBoyremembersIhavefullcontrolofthealcohol.“Butseriously,itlookshotonyou.”
MycolleagueHollyisbackingaway.She’stoonewatthis,andshe’sfeelingtheireyes.“I’mjustgoingtogetmore…registerrolls.”Shevanishesoutbackinapuffofgardeniabodyspray.
I’mstillholdingmyhardstarewiththealphaandIgetapingoftriumphinmygutwhenhelooksawayfirst.I’mthealphanow.“Wemustgotothesamebarber,becauseyou’relookingrealpretty,too.Now,ordersomethingorgetout.”
Thebossboyisnotusedtothisfromawomanandtohissurprisehelikesit.Hechewsguminanopenmouthedway,hisavideyesonmyface.“Whattimedoyougetoffwork?”
IimagineaKendollleftoutinthesuntoolong,andIsteponthatsofttanheadlikeit’sacigarette.“Notforamillionyears.”
He’svisiblymiffed.Afterall,beinggood-lookingishislife’sbackstagepass.Shouldn’titworkonme?AmIbroken?Thelighthitshisfaceinashadowlessbeigepanofcolor,andhe’snothingthatcouldinterestme.I’mafacesnob.It’sallabouttheshadows.
“Whatdoyouwant?”I’malreadygatheringshotglasses.
“Sambucashots,”oneguyshouts.Naturally.Theelixirofmorons.
Ipourarowandtakepayments,andthetipjargetsfuller.Theylovebeingtreatedlikedirt.Theseboyswantthefullbiker-barsafariexperience,andIamtheirtourguide.Theirleadercontinuestoflirtwithme,determinedtowearmedown,butIwalkawaymidsentence.
It’sSundaynight,butthepeopleinherearen’tworriedaboutbeingrestedforworktomorrow.
MygrandmotherLorettasaidoncethatifyouknowhowtopouradrinkintoaglass,youcangetajobanywhere.Shewasabartenderinhertwenties,too.Itwasgoodadvice;I’vepoureddrinksintoglassesallovertheworld,andI’vedealtwitheverypossiblevariantofalphamale.
IwonderwhatLorettawouldsayifshecouldseemenow,pouringthisbeerwithaninsultpreloadedonmytongue.She’dlaughandclapandsay,Wecouldhavebeentwins,DarcyBarrett,becauseshewasalwayssayingthat.Therewasaslideshowofphotographsatherfuneral,andIcouldfeelthesidewaysglancesatme.
Twins.Nokidding.NowI’msleepinginherbedroomandfinishingoffhercannedgoods.IfIstartcarryingcrystalsinmypurseandreadingtarotcards,Iwillofficiallybeherreincarnation
Hollymustbepickingupthoseregisterrollsfromthefactory.Oneoftheleather-jacketbikershasbeenwaitingtoolong,andhe’slookingsidewaysatthePastels.Inodtohimandholdupmyfinger—Oneminute.Hegrizzlesandhuffsbutdecidesagainstcausinggrievousbodilyharm.
“Arethoseleatherpants?”APastelboyleansoverthebar,lookingatmylowerhalf.“You’relikeBadSandyfromGrease.”HiseyesfocusonthefakenametagI’vepinnedabovemyboob.“Joan.”Hisskepticaleyesslidelower.IguessIdon’tlooklikeaJoan.
“I’mobviouslyRizzo,youidiot.Andifyoudon’tquitleaningoverlikethatlookingatmytits,Keithisgonnacomeover.That’shim,bythedoor.He’ssixfoottenandhe’sbored.”
ItwinklemyfingersinawavetoKeithandhecopiesthewavebackfromhisstool.
“He’sbored,I’mbored,andtheLeatherJacketsarevery,verybored.”Imovealongthebar,handingoutglasses,takingpayment,bumpingthetilldrawerclosedwithmyhipoverandover.
“Joan’sright.We’reverybored,”oneoftheyoungerbikerssaysinadrolltone.He’sbeenleaningagainstthebar,watchingtheexchangewithinterest.ThePastelsallflinchandstareattheirphones.ThebikerandIgrinateachotherandIslideoverabeeronthehouse.
I’msickoftheirhuddling.“Sambucawillshrinkyournuts.Ohwait,toolate.Now,gofuckoff.”Theydo.
Holly’sbigeyespeeparoundthedoorwhenthedusthassettled.Thereisnothinginherhands.She’salllegsandelbows,andshewashiredbyourboss,Anthony,withoutbeingaskedasingleinterviewquestion.Faceslikehersareveryhireable.Shecan’tcountchange,pourdrinks,ordealwithmen.
“I’malwayssorelievedwhenIseewe’rerosteredontogether.”Hollysitsonthebenchandexhaleslongandloud,likeshe’sbeenworkinghard.Hernametagsays“HOLLY”andsheaddedapinkglitterheartsticker.“IfeelsaferwheneverI’mwithyou.Ibetyou’reevenlookingoutforKeith.”
“That’strue,Iam.”IcatchKeith’seyeandhetipshischinupinacknowledgment,leaningbackagainstthewallonhisstool.Anotherbartendertip?Makefriendswithsecurity.Igettheseguysdrunk,andKeithkeepsthelidonthisplace.ItoccurstomethatIshouldbegivingHollythesepearlsofwisdom.ButIdon’twantherstickingwiththisjoblongerthannecessary.“WhenIquit,you’regoingtohavetogettougher.”
Hollypursesherlips.“Howmuchlongerareyouhere?”
“Therenovationonmygrandma’splacestartsintwomonths,unlessitgetspushedbackagain.AndthenIamouttahere.”Holly’sglitterstickerstressesmeout.“I’dneverputmyrealnameonmychestinthisplace.”
Shetipsherheadtotheside.She’dbeagreatbridalmodel,inafullwhitecupcakegownandtiara.“Ineverthoughtofmakingafakeone.WhocouldIbe?”
Ifmyoldpalthelabelmakerhasanyclearstickyrollleftinsideit,it’llbeastone-coldmiracle.Anthony’scarefactoraboutemployeeturnoverissummedupbythisbulkpackofnametags.Thereareaboutahundredmoretogobeforeheneedstogiveitanythought.
“You’dbeagreatDoris.”
Holly’snosewrinkles.“That’ssoold-lady.”
“Youwantasexyfakename?Comeon,Hol.”Icrankoutalabelandassemblethetag.WhenIgiveittoher,she’ssilentforawhile.
“YouthinkI’maBertha?”
“Definitely.”Iserveafewmorecustomers.
“I’mmoreofaGwendolyn.OraViolet?”Dutifully,shepinsitonanyway
ImakeherhandoverheroldtagandIthrowitinthetrash.MaybeIcanrelaxafractiononmyshiftsifshecontinuesthistrajectory.
“Onedayyou’llbeDr.BerthaSinclair,counselingdepressedparrots,andtuckedupinbedeverysinglenightatnineP.M.”IsoundlikeanoverprotectivesistersoItackon,“OryoumightbeavetintheSouthAmericanjungle,helpingthemacawslearntoloveagain.”
Shetucksherhandsinhertightpocketsandgrins.“Wehonestlydomorethanparrotsatvetschool.Ikeeptellingyou.”
“Hey,babe,”aguysaystoHolly.Badboyslovegoodgirls.
“Ifyousayso,”Isaytoher.Tohim,Isay,“Fuckoff.”
Shekeepsplayingourgame.“IbetthatwhenI’mperformingadiagnosticlaparoscopyonanoldtabby,you’llbeintheSouthAmericanjungle,withyourbigbackpackon,hackingthroughthevines.”Shemakesachoppingmotion.
“I’veactuallydonethatintheAndes,”Iadmit,tryingtonotsoundlikeI’mboasting.Nothingworsethanasmugworldtraveler.“Boy,Icoulduseabushmacheterightaboutnow.”Ilookacrosstheroomatourclientele.
“IlookedthroughyourInstagramabit.Ilostcountofhowmanycountriesyou’vebeento.”
“Imisplacedmypassport,otherwiseIcouldcountthestampsforyou.”Ibegingatheringupdirtyglasses.Imentallyscanthefloorplanofthecottageagain.Loretta’sghostispossiblymessingwithme.Eitherthat,ormybrother,Jamie,hidit.
JustthethoughtofHolly’sprettyeyeslookingatmyoldlifeisgivingmetheprivacyprickles.Imaginemyexesscrollingthroughit.Curiousone-nightstands.Oldphotographyclients.Orworse,Jamie.Ineedtomakethataccountprivate.Ordeleteit.
“Andtherewerephotosofyouandyourbrother.Ican’tbelievehowmuchyouguyslookalike.He’ssogood-looking.Hecouldbeamodel.”Thoselastbitsweresaidinaninvoluntaryblurt.I’vehearditmanytimesbefore.
“Hetrieditonce.Hedidn’tlikebeingtoldwhattodo.Anyway,thanks.That’sacomplimentforme,too,”Isay,butshedoesn’tgetit.
JamieandIlookalikebecausewe’retwins.There’satwinranking,andwe’reatthebottom.Aboyandagirl.Wecan’tevendressthesameandswapplaces.Fraternal,whatayawn.
Butifwerevealourtwinstatus,wearefascinatingtosomepeople.Theyalwaysask,whowasbornfirst?Canweheareachother’sthoughts?Feeleachother’spain?Ipinchmyselfhardontheleg.Ihopehe’syelpinginafancydowntownbar,spillinghisdrink.
Ifhe’shandsome,Ishouldbegood-lookingintheorytoo,butI’vebeencalledJamieinawiginschooltoomanytimestobelieveit.Ifyoulinedusupsidebyside,withmyfacewashedclean,I’dbemistakenforhislittlebrother.Iknowthisbecauseit’shappened.
“Wherewillyougotofirst?”Hollyisdefinitelythekindofgirlwhowouldwearaberetonacobblestonestreet.Abaguetteinherbicycle’sbasket.
“I’mgoingtoburyallofmynametagsinaJapanesedeathforestcalledAokigahara.OnlythenwillmysoulbefreeofDevil’sEndBar.”
“So,notParis,”shesays,toeingamarkonthefloorwithherwhitesneaker,andInearlylaughathowrightIwas.Ileanamopagainstherlegbutshejustholdsitinbothhands,restingthepoleagainsthercheek,likesomeoneinamusicalabouttobreakintosong.“Whydoyoutravelsomuch?”
“I’vebeentoldIhaveimpulsecontrolproblems.”Ipullaface.
She’sstillthinkingaboutwhatshe’ssnooped.“Youwereaweddingphotographer.How?”Shelooksmeupanddown.
“It’sprettyeasy.Youfindtheladywearingawhitedressandgolikethis.”Iholdupaninvisiblecameraandpressmyfingerdown.
“No,Imean,weren’tyoualwaystraveling?”
“Iworkedtheweddingseasonandlivedherewithmygrandma.Itraveledtherestoftheyear.”Shoestringbudgetwouldbeanunderstatement,butImaintainedthisarrangementforsixyears.“IworkinbarswhenIneedcash.Idosometravelphotography,butitdoesn’tselltoowell.”
“Well,nooffense—”
“Thisisusuallythepartwheresomeonesayssomethingoffensive,”Icutin,andamsavedbyoneoftheoldbikerguys,bluetattoosbruisinghisforearmsandabrownstaininhisbeard.He’sthephysicalembodimentofrepugnant,buthesaysnothingasIpourhisdrink,soIsmileathimasareward.Helooksdisturbed.
Whenhe’sgoneIgotothebathroomandpolitelysmileatmyselfinthemirror.IlooklikeIhaven’ttriedthatinawhile.MyreflectionlookslikeSharkWeek.
Hollyisgoodatpressingpauseonherthoughts.Imessaroundwithmyhair,putonmoreeyeliner,washmyhandsforages,andstillwhenIreturnshecontinuesseamlessly,“Butyoudon’tseemtofitintotheweddingscene.”
“Whyevernot,Bertha?”I’vegottenthiscommentfromcountlessdrunkdudesatweddingreceptions,jostlingaroundbymyelbowwhileI’mtryingtogetthefirst-danceshots.
Hollysays,“Weddingsareromantic.Andyouaren’tromantic.”
“Idon’thavetoberomantic,Ijusthavetoknowwhattheclientthinksisromantic.”Ishouldn’tbeoffended,butIkickacardboardboxstraightunderthecounterandglareoutattheunwashedmasses.
There’sacouplemakingoutrightnowonthebackwallbythebathrooms.Thehumpingswivelofhishipsmakesmewanttobarf.Buteverynowandthen,whentheycomeupforairandtheirlipsbreakapart?Hishandisinherhairandtheylookateachother.That’swhenI’dclick.Icouldmakeeventhoseassholeslookbeautiful.
ThenI’dturnonthefirehoseandspraythemoutofhere.
“So,noromancewiththatguyVince?”Hollyaskslikeshealreadyknowstheanswer.Whenshefirstsawhimslinkinginhere,shesaid,He’snotaniceboy,Darcy.Ireplied,Hehasatonguestud,sopartofhimisprettynice.Shewasopen-mouthspeechless.
Ireviewthestocklevelsinthefridgeclosesttome.“I’vegotasonnetinmybackpocket.WhenIseehimnext,I’llreadittohim.”
“Butyou’renotinlove.”
Ilaughinresponsetothat.I’vegivenuponfeelinganythingwithaman.
“He’sawaytokilltime.I’vebeenherealotlongerthanIwasplanningto.”Pleasedon’taskthefollow-upquestion,Haveyoueverbeeninlove?“Hmm,okay,IguessI’munromantic.”
“Why’dyouquitweddings?”
Thatwordquitisasorepoint,andHollyseesitinmyeyes.ShelooksdownandfiddleswithherBerthatag.“Sorry.Yourwebsitesaidyou’reclosedforbookingsindefinitely.Andyoudoproductphotographynow.What’sthat?”
“Whydon’tyougoogleit,Bertha?”ItrytomakeitajokebutI’mangry.Whydoessheconstantlytrytobefriendslikethis?Doesn’tshegetI’mleaving?
Iamdeletingthatentirewebsite.
“Younevertellmeanythingproperly,”sheprotestsinaweakvoice.“You’reneverserious.”Herbeautifulfaceisallpinkandsmushedupwithconcern.Igotothefarendofthebarandturnmybackonher.Itakedownthebeerglasscontainingmynametags.I’msickofbeingJoan.IdecidetobeLorrainefortherestoftheshift.
I’msickofbeingDarcy.
“I’msorry,”Hollysaysagaininasmallvoice.
Ishruganddragaroundbottlesofvodkaintheendfridge.“It’sokay.I’mjust…”Trapped,withoutapassportorabookedplaneticket.Livingmynightmare.“Abitch.Don’tmindme.”
OutofthecornerofmyeyeIseethelightcatchinginabottleofwhiskey,givingitagoldglint.IfeelatwingelowdowninmystomachandIexhaleuntilIhavenothingleftinside.I’vehadachroniccaseoftheheavysadsighslately,especiallywhenIthinkaboutweddings.WhichIrefusetodo.
Iranmyownbusinessforyears,andIfeellikeIhaveX-rayvisionforthingsthataregoingtobecomeamajorproblem.Hollystillhasn’tbeengivenanypayrollforms.Stocklevelsarealarminglylow.MaybealcoholisnotAnthony’smainsourceofincome.IgotothebackofficeandwriteonaPost-it:Anthony—doyouwantmetodoastockorder?—D
Foratoughbitch,I’vegotembarrassinglygirlyhandwriting.Isuredon’tseetheguysonthedaytimeshiftwritingconscientiousnotesfortheboss.Iscrunchitup.
WhenIcomebackoutandbegintocountcashinthetill,Hollytriesagain,rewindingtothepartbeforesheblewit.“Idon’tthinkVinceistheguyforyou,anyway.Ithinkyouneedoneofthem.”ShemeanstheLeatherJackets
Ikeepcountingcash.Fivehundred,fivefifty.That’sinteresting,comingfromher.She’spetrifiedofthem.Ifaglassbreaks,it’smetrudgingoutwithadustpanandbroom.“Whydoyouthinkthat?”
Hollyshrugs.“Youneedsomeoneeventougherthanyou.Whatabouthim?Helooksatyouallthetime,andhealwaysmakessureyouservehim.”
Ican’tbebotheredevenlookingupfromtheregistertoseewhichoneshemeans.Sixhundred,sixfifty.“I’dratherdiealonethanendupwithoneoftheseassholes.”
ThesameyoungLeatherJacketwhohelpedmescarethecollegeboysisweavingbacktous.Freebeerobviouslygoesdowneasy.
“Thirstyboytonight,”Isay,andpourhisusualwhiskeythistime.
“Very,”hesaysinawaythatsoundssexual,butwhenIlookathisface,he’sserene.“Boredandthirsty,thatis.”
“Well,that’swhyyou’rehere.Now,ifyou’regonnabeatupthosekidslater,doitintheparkinglot,please.”
Hiscrystal-blueeyesflicktomynametag.“Noproblem.Seeyouaround,Lorraine.”Hepays,tipsme,andwalksaway.
“That’stheonethatlovesyou,”Hollysays,fartooloud.Chapter2
Hisbootmissesastepandasplatofwhiskeyhitstheground.Gamely,herecoversandwalksoff,lookingrattled.Ihissather,“Shuddup.”I’veneverevenregisteredhisexistenceproperly,butherevealshimselftobetall,handsome,tattooed.Muscles,butt,boots.Tick,tick,tick.Decentbonestructure,too.
Ipicturemyselftryingtotalktohim.Touchhim.Knowhim.ThenIthinkofhimtryingtodothesametome.
Maybehecoulddrivemetotheairport.
“Pass.”Igiveheramind-your-own-businesslookandshereceivesit,loudandclear.Weavoideachotherpolitelyforprobablyclosetoanhour;sheservesdrinks,eachtransactionlikeanoveltyforher,blinkingattheregisterinearnest.Idreadtothinkwhetherthefinaltallywillbalance.
Iluganewkegoutofthestoreroomandafamiliarchest-rattlebegins.Ishouldknowbetter,buteverytimeisasurprise,becauseI’mamoron.You’dthinkthatalifelongheartarrythmiawouldbesomethingIamusedto,buteverytime:Gosh,thatthingagain.It’sthetripwirethatIforgetabouttheinstantI’mpastit,anddespitemybeinganotherwisehealthytwenty-six-year-old,IhavetositinAnthony’schair,myvisionpixelatingandmyheartpalpitating.
“Youokay?”Hollycalls,herfacepeepingaroundthecorner.“Girlsaren’tsupposedtogetthekegs.”
“Twingeditalittle,”Ilieoutright,indicatingmyback.“Gooutfront.”
“ShouldagottenKeith,”shesaysmutinously,andIpointmyfingeruntilsheleaves.
Meanwhile,myheartisrunningupaskyscraper’sfirestairs,andit’sgotalittlewoodenleg.Step-pause—hop-scramble.Upandup,nohandrail,don’tpanic,don’tfallbackwardintoblack.I’vejustgottoenduretheblipuntilitpasses.Butthistime,I’mbreathinglikeI’mtakingthestairs,too.IcanalmostfeelJamie’sangryalarmfoggingaroundmeinthesemoments;he’dbeusinghisstrengthofwilltomakemyheartbeatright.
Jamiecausedmyheartcondition.Heunpluggedmyumbilicalcordtotakealeisurelyswig,smirking,watchingmeturnbluebeforegivingitback.Mycardiologisttoldmethatwasimpossible,butI’mstillconvinced.That’sveryon-brandforJamie.
Apparently,Iwaslineduptobethefirstborn,butatthelastsecond,JamisonGeorgeBarrettswoopedaroundandbeatmetoit.HebeltedoutofMomfirst,rosyandstrapping,screamingTouchdown!Hewasintheupperpercentileforeverything.Icameoutjaundicedandwaskeptinoneofthosenewbornpressurecookersforaweekwithaheartmonitor.Jamie’sbeenoutpacingmeeversince,scoringendlesstouchdownsinclassesandofficesandbars,mirroredsurfaces,andprobablybeds.Ugh,gross.
MaybethereasonIcandealwiththeguysinthebarisbecauseIwasdealingwithanalphamaleinthewomb.
ItwasrainingtodayinJamie’snewcity.Icanpicturehimwalkingdownthepavementtohisdreamjobasanassociateataninvestmentbank.Idon’tknowwhathedoesexceptIimagineitinvolvesswimminginavaultofgoldcoins.He’dbeinhisBurberrytrenchcoat,blackumbrellainonehandandphoneintheother,Blah,blah,blah.Money,money,money.
Whatwouldhesayrightnow,ifhewerespeakingtomeagain?
Breathe,you’regoinggray.
DistractingmyselfwiththoughtsofJamiealwaysseemstowork.Icanfocusmyirritationonhimratherthanmyfaultyengine.Mytormentorisalsomyanchor.
Darce,yougottadosomethingaboutthisheart.
Ipayexorbitanthealthinsurancepremiums,onaccountofmydudheart,andmyearningsfromthisplaceonlyjustcoveriteachmonth.WhenIthinkaboutit,itaddsanextralayerofdepressingtothisjob.
Myheartbeatisnowbacktoitssadversionofnormal,butuntilJamiespeakstomeagainaftermyepicfuckup,I’mattemptingtheimpossible:beingtwinless.Icontemplatesendinghimacasuallyabusivetext,butthenIrememberIcan’t,evenifIwantto.I’mattemptingasecondimpossiblethinginthisdayandage:beingphoneless.
IwasoutwithVincetwoweekendsagoatSully’sBarandIdroppedmyphoneinthetoilet.Asitsanktothebottom,thescreenlitupwithanincomingcallandapictureofmybrother’ssmugface.Howtypical;thefirsttimehe’dtriedtocontactmeinmonths,andhewasfortyfathomsdeepinpeewater.Thephonewentblack,andIwashedmyhandsandwalkedout.
MyparentswouldkillmeiftheyknewIhadnophone.TheywouldkillmeiftheyknewIdon’twearabathrobearoundthecottageoncoldnights.Yourheart!Smother,smother!IhaveaworsefeelingthatnoonewillevennoticeI’muncontactable.EversinceIfuckedthingsupandJamieleft,myphonehadstoppedringing.He’sthebrightsparklingoneeveryonegravitatesto.
Ihearasmashoutfrontandafewguysechooooh.Menareelectrifiedbybreakingglass.IhearthefortifyinginwardbreathItake.I’vedonethisonandoffforyears,butstill,Iwouldn’tdescribethispartasgettinganyeasier.
“What’sup?”Iclompoutinmybootsandarowofguysaresmirking.Hollyistryingtostackpiecesofbrokenglassandherfaceisred.There’sbeereverywhereandthefronthemofherT-shirtissoaked.I’veneverseenagirlmoreinneedofrescuing.
“Dumbbitchcan’tevenpourabeer.”Thealphaofthisgroupisamean-lippedconstructiontype.“Luckyshe’shot.Unlikethisone.”Hemeansme.Ishrug.
“It’sokay,”ItellHolly.Shenodswithoutawordanddisappearsoutback.Isthistheshiftthat’sgoingtobreakher?
Thisguywon’tjustpayandleave.He’slookingforstimulation.Iargueonautopilotandthedetailsareboring.I’dbebetter-lookingifIdidn’thavesuchshorthair.I’dbesogood-lookingifItriedharder.Ikindalooklikeaguywearingmakeup.Okay,thatonestungalittle.I’marealtoughbitch,aren’tI?EverycommentorinsultissomethingIcaneasilybataway,andI’mcountingoutfivedoublewhiskeyswhenhegoestoofar.
“Whodoyouthinkyouare,anyway?Someonespecial?”HisvoicecutsthroughthefogandIjerkmyeyesbacktohisface.There’sasensationinsideme:abigsplit,likeI’vejustbeenaxedinhalflikeadrylog.Icannotcomeupwithanyresponsetothis.Heseeshe’shitthemarkandsmiles.
I’vebeenabusedsomuchworsethanthat,insomanylanguages,buttonightitfeelsliketheworstthinganyone’seversaidtome.
Actually,itis.It’sthesamethingmybrothersaidtomebeforeheleft.
“Thisone,”ItellKeith,likeI’mchoosingagoldfish,andhemuscleshimoutbythescruff.Therestofthegroupmutterandcurse.Angerisablowtorch-brightinsideme.“Allyouhavetodoisorder,pay,andtip.Don’ttalk.Justdothosethreethingsandgetoutofmyface.”
Hollyreturnsandgetsdownonherkneesbesideme,scrapingglassintoadustpan.“Ouch!”Nowshehasathinlineofbloodrunningdownhershin,intoherwhitesockandshoe.
“Showittome,”Imanagetosaywithoutsighing.AsIdigthroughthefirst-aidkit,IthinkofwhereIcanrehomeher.“Canyoudoanybasicsewing?MyfriendTrulymightneedanassistantsoon.Youcouldprobablydoitfromhome.”
“Imadethequiltonmybed.It’sjuststraightlinesthough,itwasn’thard.Icoulddoitifitwassimple.”Shewipesawayhermeltedmascaraandlooksaroundherselflikeshe’srealizingwhatI’veknownallalong:Thisplaceisamistakeforher.
Ipatchherup,splitourtips,andsendherhomeearly.“Ifyoudon’twanttocomeback,justtextAnthony.”Shetearfullynods.
Sheisthenicestgirl,butforhersakeIhopeshequits.Shemightenduplikeme.
It’salmosttenP.M.Thebardoesn’tcloseuntilfourA.M.,sotherealbadbitcheswhodothegraveyardshiftarrive.They’rewhatI’llbecome.Iputmytipsinmypurseandwespendafewminutestalkingoverwhichdouchebagsinheretokeepaneyeon.
“Bye,”ItellKeithasIwalkpasthisstoolnearthedoor,buthe’salreadyhaulinghimselftohisfeet.
“Youknowtherules.”
“Therulesherearebullshit.”
“That’slife,”hereplieswithashrug.
“Whowalksyoutoyourcar?”Iwatchhimmullthatover.
“Youprobablywould.”Hesmilesatthatrealization.“Ifyoueverwantextracash,Icouldprobablyhookyouupwithsomesecuritywork.You’dbeanatural.”
“Iprobablywouldbe,butno.”Ipushthroughthefrontdoor,resignedtothefactthathe’llbebehindme.Istepoutintoahazeofcigarettesandexhaustfumes.“Seriously,youdon’tknowhowmuchIhateyoubabyingme.”
“I’vegotafairidea,”Keithrespondsdryly.WhenIlookback,he’sscanningtheparkinglotwithpracticedeyes.Somethinghappenedalongtimebacktoagirlwhoworkedhere,longbeforemytime,andthesidealleyfeelstaintedwithanawful,shiverywrongness.
Igiveupandstartwalking.“Comeon,guarddog,timeforyourwalkies.”
Keith’sinsanelylonglegseasilykeepupwithmyirritatedmarchingthroughthelittlegroupsofguysstandingaroundneartheirbikes.Someonesays,“Waitaroundaminute,babe.”
“Ican’ttonight,”Keithrepliesinagirlyvoice,causingthemalltocrackup.“Areyouokay,Darcy?Youseemalittlefragile.”
Ishouldn’tunderestimatehowperceptivehecanbe.Hewatchespeopleforaliving.
“Ha,me?I’mfine.Thanksforbefore.Mustbethebestpartofyourjob,watchingthembounceacrosstheconcrete.”Idiginmybag.Idon’tneedakeyclenchedinmyfistwithashadowthisbig.
“Notquite.”Keithleansanelbowontheroofofmycar.He’sSasquatchinsize,onthehandsomesideofplain,andhehasagoldring.“Bytheway,Istilloweyouthattwentybucksfromtheothernight.IwantedtosaythatIappreciatedit…andthanksforlistening.”
Ifeelbadnow,becauseIwasn’tlisteningatall.
Icheckedtherosterlikeacompulsivebrownnoser,circlingthefuckupsandgaps,whileKeithsatonabarstooltellingastoryabouthiswife,mother-in-law,andamisplacedwallet.Somethingaboutsicknessandworkingallthetime.Somesighsandadrinkcoastertornintotinyshreds.Asdolefulandsweetasheis,twentybuckswasabargainpricetoendthatconversation.
“Don’tworryaboutit.”IalwaysgetaproudswellinmychestwhenI’mgenerous.Iwait,butKeithjustkeepsleaning.“Seriously,Idon’tcareabouttwentybucks.YoucanbuymeadrinktocelebratewhenIfinallygetoutofthisplace.I’dbettergo.Winedoesn’tdrinkitself.”
“Coulddrinkitinthere,”hepointsout.“It’sabar,youknow.”
Imakeaface.“LikeI’mgoingtobreathethesameairasthosedudesforlongerthannecessary.”
“I’llgetyouastoolnexttome,”heoffers,butIshakemyhead.
“Idomybestdrinkingathomeonthecouch.Withnopants.AndtheSmithsgettingmeallniceanddepressed.”Thatwasabittoohonest.
Iputmyhandonmycardoor,buthejustblowsoutadeepbreath.He’sstallingforsomereason.I’mbeginningtothinkhe’sworkinghiswayuptoabiggerloan.“God,whatisit?Spititout.”
Hesquintsupatthestars.“So,somenight,huh?”
Iputmyhandonmyhip.“Keith,you’rebeingreallyweird.Pleasestopcrushingmycar.”
“Youfeelit,right?”Helooksdownatmeinastrangeway.Sortoflikeheneedstosneeze.
“Astampedeofdinosaurs?”Idon’tmakehimsmile.Hejustkeepslookingatmeandhewon’tletmeleave.“What?WhatamIsupposedtobefeeling?”
“Meandyou.This.”Hepointsbetweenus.
Shockplussurpriseequalsanger.“Keith,whatthehell.”
“Youlookatmealot.”
“Becauseyou’rethebulletproofvestwekeeponthestoolbythedoor.No,don’teventry.”Isnatchmyarmbackwhenhereachesforit.“Ibetyourwifewouldberealimpressedwithyou.”UnfaithfulnessisthemostabhorrentthingIcanthinkof,becauseit’stheoppositeofweddings—andthat’swhatI’vemarinatedmyselfinforyears.Someonepromisestoloveyouforever,andthenyougostaringatgirlsatwork?“Fuckyou,Keith,seriously.”
Heslumps,handonthebackofhisneck,thepictureofmisery.“She’sbarelygotanytimeformesincehermomgotsick.IfeellikeyouandIhaveaconnection,youknow?”
“Becausewewerefriends.Were.”Iwrenchopenmycardoorandfeelaspikeoffearwhenhishandwrapsmywrist,holdingmeinplace.Ipullandhegetstighter.Igetangrierandpullharder.MywristisburningworsethanwhenJamietwisteditonpurposewhenwewerekids.ButIwantittohurt.Betterthanstandingstill.
“Ifyouwouldjustlisten—”Keithtries,butmyskinistoosoftforhimtoretainanypurchaseon,andIslipoutofhisgriplikeasilkscarf.Theparkinglotisnowinexplicablydeserted.Myheartrateperksup,likeaguylookingoverthetopofhisnewspaper:What’sgoingonhere?IfitcrapsoutonmenowIamgoingtobefurious.
IpointmyfingeratKeith’sface.“Ithoughtyouwereoneofthegoodones.Wrongasusual.”
Igetmybuttinmyseat.Islamthedoorandhearafaintwoofofpain.I’moutofhere,doorslocked.Thisismypersonalspecialty:slippingoutofatoo-tightgripandgettingthehellout.Myformerfriendjustacheatingcardboardcutoutinmyrearviewmirror.“Wrongasusual,becausetherearenogoodones.”
WhenIhearmyvoicesayitoutloud,Iknowitisn’ttrue.There’sstillonesolid-goldgoodmanleftoutthere.He’sthehigh-tidemarkinaworldofinch-deeppuddles.Quick,I’mhavingawinemergency.Drinktonightandgotosleepandforget.
Idriveameanderingroutetotheconveniencestorenearmyhouse,checkingmyrearviewmirror.IputmyheartbackinitsboxandIendureaten-minuteargumentwithmybasefemaleself.WasItoofriendlywithKeith?Toocasual,toonaughtyandrudeandloosewithmysmiles?No,fuckhim.
IreworkdifferentconversationsthatI’vehadwithhim,cringingathoweasyandenjoyablyplatonicIfoundthem.MaybeIevenusedhimasasubstituteformybrother.DidIpayKeithtwentybuckstobemyfriend?
OhGod,I’mpathetic.
IwonderhowmanyKeithsareinweddingportraitsI’vedoneovertheyears.Iprodmystingingwrist.It’sagoodreminderthatnomatterhowcarefulIam,it’llneverbeenough.Iamgoingtoneedalotofwinetonight.
Ipullmycarupatthecurb.Thisusedtobeapieceofparkland,stitchedintotheseamsbetweenmychildhoodhomeandLoretta’scottage.Progresswasunavoidable,butaneon-bright7-Elevenstorejustfeelsinsulting.Istillcan’tdrivepastmyoldhouse.It’sbeenpaintedmauve.Still,IcouldprobablystandtolookatthatpurplepalacebeforeIcouldmakemyselfturnandlookattherun-downwhitehouseacrossthestreet.
Feelingsagain.Wine.Wine.
“Notagain,”thecashier,Marco,sayswhenIwalkin.“Not.Again.”
“I’mtootiredforyourshitsodon’tevenstart.”Thisplaceisasconvenientastheneonsignoutfrontsays.Otherwise,Iwouldn’tendurethis.Marcoreadabookaboutsugaranditchangedhislife.
“Sugariswhitepoison.”Hestartstellingmeafake-soundingstoryaboutsugar-addictedlabrats.IchooseacheapbottleofsweetwhitewineandacanoffishgutsforDiana,andthengointomyfavoriteaisleintheentireworld.
“Theychosethesugaroverfoodandeventuallydiedofmalnutrition.”Marcosellsapackofcigarettestosomeonewithoutcomment.
Iputmyheadupovertheaisle.“That’swhatIplanondoing.Pleasestoptalkingtome.”IhatethatI’vebeenstuckherelongenoughthatastoreclerkevenknowswhoIam.Iwillnotlethimruinthis.Thismomentisspecial.
It’sincredibletheformsthatsugarcantake.It’sart.It’sscience.It’scosmic.It’stheclosestthingtoreligionthatIhave.
Iaminlovewiththesecartooncolors.Acidgummiescrumbedingranulatedcanesugar.Patentleatherlicoricetwists,happybagsofSkittles.Pinkandwhitemarshmallows,softerthanrosepetals.It’sallhere,thisrainbowspectrumofsugar,andit’swaitingforme.
“Diabetes…cancer…”Marcoisaradiobeingtunedinandout.
MyfriendTruly—myonlyfriendfromschoolwhostillliveshere—thinksthatwomenshouldbuythemselvesanindulgentweeklyconsolationprize.Youknow,forputtingupwiththeworld’sshit.Shebuysherselfflowers.Asmytreat,Ijackupmyinsulinandbloodalcohollevels.
SundaynightismypersonalweeklyHalloween.
Iwalkalongslowlyanddragmyfingertipsalongthebarsofchocolate.Goddamn,yousexylittlesquares.Dark,milk,white,Idonotdiscriminate.Ieatitall.Thosefluorescentsourcandiesthatonlyobnoxiouslittleboyslike.Isuckcandyapplesclean.Ifanenvelopesealissweet,I’lllickittwice.Growingup,Iwasthatkidwhowouldeasilygetluredintoavanwiththepromiseofalollipop.
Sometimes,Ilettheretailseductionlastfortwentyminutes,ignoringMarcoandfeelingupthemerchandise,butI’msotiredofmalevoices.
“Fivebagsofmarshmallows,”Marcosaysinaresignedtone.“Wine.Andacanofcatfood.”
“Catfoodislowcarb.”
Hemakesnomovetoscananything,soIscaneachitemmyselfandunrollafewnotesfrommytips.“Yourjobinvolvessellingthings.Sellthem.Change,please.”
“Ijustdon’tknowwhyyoudothistoyourself.”Marcolooksattheregisterwithamoraldilemmainhiseyes.“Everyweekyoucomeanddothis.”
Hehesitatesandlooksoverhisshoulderwherehissugarbooksitsunderalayerofdust.Heknowsnottotrytoslipitintomybagwithmypurchases.
“Idon’tknowwhyyoucare,dude.Justserveme.Idon’tneedyourhelp.”He’snotentirelywrongaboutmybeinganaddict.Iwouldlickalineoficingsugaroffthiscounterrightnowifnoonewerearound.Iwouldwalkintoacaneplantationandbiterightin.
I’vebeenworkingonthisjet-blackdisguiseformanyyearsnow,andit’sbulletproof.ButsomepeoplecantellthatI’maweakling,andtheytrytobabyandhelpme.Itmustbeasurvival-of-the-fittestthing.Butthey’reallwrong.I’mnotalamegazelle;I’llbetheonechasingthelion.
“GivememychangeorIsweartoGod…”Isqueezemyeyesshutandtrytotampdownmytemper.“Justtreatmelikeanyothercustomer.”
Hegivesmeafewcoins’changeandbagsmysweet,spongydrugs.“YoujustremindmeofhowIusedtobe.Soaddicted.Whenyou’rereadytoquit,borrowthebookfromme.Ihaven’thadsugarinnearlyeightmonths.Ijustsweetenmycoffeewithsomepowderedagave…”
I’malreadywalkingout.Nosugar?Whyislifejustaboutgivingthingsup?WhathaveIevengotleftthatIenjoy?Theheavy-sighfeelinginsidemegetsworse.Sadder.Ipauseatthedoor.
“I’mwritingtoyourheadofficetocomplainaboutyourservice.”I’mahypocrite,pullingthecustomerservicecard,buthey.“Youjustlostyourselfacustomer,sugar.”
“Don’tbelikethat,”Marcoroarsasthedoorsslideclosedbehindme.Isettlebackintomycar,lockthedoors,idletheengine,andcrankthemusicevenlouder.Iknowhecanseeme,becausehe’sbangingonthewindowofhislittlemurder-proofcubetryingtogetmyattention.MeninaPerspexnutshell.
Iopenapackonmylapandcramfourjumbopinkmarshmallowsintomymouth,resultinginchipmunkcheeks.ThenIgivehimthefingerandhiseyespopoutofhishead.Itisoneofthebestmomentsofmylifelately,andIlaughforprobablyfiveminutesasIdrive,sugardustinmylungs.
ThankGodI’mlaughing,otherwiseIthinkImightbecrying.WhodoIthinkIam,anyway?
“Hey,Loretta,”Isayoutloudtomygrandmother.She’shopefullyupthereonacloudrightabovemeasIstopataredlightandputmyhandinsidethecellophanebag,pillowysoftnessonmyfingertips.Ifanyoneisgoingtobemyguardianangel,it’sher;she’dinsistonit.
“Please,please,givemesomethingbetterthansugar.Ireallyneedit.”Justsayingitaloudchokesmeup.Ineedahug.Ineedsomeone’swarmskinonmine.Iachewithloneliness,andIstillwould,evenifVincecameandwent
WhodoIthinkIam?I’munloved,untethered.AndI’mtwinless.
Thelightturnsgreenlikeit’sgivenmeananswer,butIhaveafewmoremarshmallowsbeforeIbotheraccelerating.Theworldhasgonetobed,andI’mcompletelyalone.
ExceptmaybeI’mnot.
IpullintoMarlinStreetandseeastrangecarparkedinfrontofmyhouse.Iturndownthemusicandslowdown.It’sabigblackutilitytruck,justlikethatconstructionredneckwoulddrive.Itlooksbrandnewandshiny,without-of-stateplates.He’sfoundwhereIlive?Thehairsonmyarmsarestandingonend.
IturnmyheadasIrollpastslowly.There’snoonesittinginit.Itcan’tpossiblybeJamie—he’dneveracceptatruckfromarentalplace,andhe’dparkinthedrive,notinthestreet.Idrivearoundtheblockwithmyhearttryingtobeatitselftodeath.IbrieflywishforKeithbeforeIremember.
ThenIgetmad.
Ipullintothedrivewithanaggressiveengine-revandputmyheadlightsonhighbeam.Rollingmywindowdownafewinches,Isayoverthedeafeningthrobofmyheart,“Who’sthere?”
Ihearayapandastiff-leggedoldChihuahuacantersoutoftheshadows,dressedinastripedsweater.Amanemergestoo,andI’mokaynow.Evenwithoutthedog,I’dknowhishugeshapeanywhere.I’mnotabouttobemurdered.I’mnowthesafestgirlontheplanet.
“Thanks,Loretta,”Isaytothecloudaboveme.There’sonlyonethingsweeterthansugar.“Thatwasquick.”Chapter3
TomValeskahasananimalinsidehim,andI’vefeltiteverytimehe’slookedatme.
Jamiefoundhimlockedoutofhishouseacrosstheroad.Jamiecalleditthathouseforpoorpeoplebecausesadfamiliesmovedinandoutwithalarmingregularity.Momwouldscoldhimforthat.Justbecausewehavealot,itdoesn’tmeanyoucanbenasty,Prince.ShemadeJamiemowthatlawnforfree.Everysixmonthsorso,we’dmakeawelcomebasketforournewneighbors—usuallyscaredwomen,peepingaroundtheirnewdoorframes,shadowsundertheireyes.
Butsummerhadbeenhot.Momhadalotofsingingstudents,Dadwasbusyathisarchitecturalfirm,andMrs.Valeskahadbeennotoriouslydifficulttopindown.Thewelcomebasketwasalreadywrappedincellophaneandtiedwitharibbon,butMrs.Valeskawasoffatdawninherrustycar,alwayscarryingbucketsandbasketsofcleaninggear.
Herson,eightyearsoldlikeus,strayedaround,chippingatalogonhisfrontlawnwithanaxetopassthetime.IknewbecauseIsawhimdaysbeforeJamiefoundhim.IfI’dbeenallowedoutsidepastthedoormat,Iwouldhavegoneoverandbossedhim.Hey,aren’tyouhot?Thirsty?Sitintheshade.
Jamie,allowedtoroamthestreetaslongashecouldseethehouse,foundTomlockedoutlateandbroughthimhome.Hedraggedhimintothekitchenbythesleeve.Tomlookedlikehecoulduseafleabath.Wefedhimchickennuggets.
“Iwasgoingtosleepontheporchswing.Idon’thaveakeyyet,”Tomexplainedtomyparentsinashyhuskywhisper.TheyweresousedtoJamie’sbellow,theycouldbarelyhearhim.Hewassocalmabouttheprospectofnodinnerandnobed.Iwasinawe.Dazzled,likeIwasinthepresenceofcelebrity.Everytimehetookone-secondglancesatmewithhisorange-browneyes,Ifeltazipperinmystomach.
Helookedlikeheknewme,fromAtoZ.
ThatnightwasagamechangerattheBarrettdiningtable.
Tomwasvirtuallymutewithshyness,soheweatheredtheonslaughtofJamie’stalking.Hisone-wordreplieshadagrowlyedgethatIliked.Nolongerrequiredtorefereethetwins,ourparentscouldsmoochandmurmurcozilytoeachother.AndIwasforgottenandinvisibleforthefirsttimeinmylife.
Ilikedit.Nonuggetswerestolenfrommyplate.Nobodythoughtaboutmyheartormymedication.IcouldplaywiththeoldPentaxcameraonmylapinbetweenbitesandsneakglancesattheinterestingcreaturesittingoppositeJamie.Everyonehadacceptedatfacevaluethathewashuman,butIwasn’tsosure.MygrandmotherLorettahadtoldmeenoughfairystoriesaboutanimalsandhumans’swappingbodiestomakemesuspicious.Whatelsecouldgivethatedgetohisstare,andmakemyinsideszap?
Thewelcomebasketwasdeliveredtohisexhaustedmotherlatethatnight.Shecried,sittingwithmyparentsforalongtimeonthefrontporchwithaglassofwine.WedecidedtokeepTomforthesummerwhileshewasatwork.Hewasthebufferourfamilyneverknewitneeded.MyparentsliterallybeggedtotakehimtoDisneywithus.Mrs.Valeskawasproudandtriedtosayno,buttheysaid,It’sreallyforourbenefit.Thatboyisworthhisweightingold.We’llhavetowaituntilDarcy’smedicationlevelisworkedout,andthenwe’llallbefreetotravelalotmore.Unlessweleaveherwithhergrandmother.Maybethatwouldbebest.
Andafterthatfirstdinner,IadmitIdidsomethingveryweird.IwenttomyroomandIdrewasleddoginthemiddleofanotebookIkepthiddenintheheatingvent.
Ididn’tknowwhatelsetodowiththissensationthatfilledme.Onthesleddog’snametag,tootinytoberead,was:Valeska.Iimaginedacreaturethatwouldsleepatthefootofmybed.He’dtakefoodfrommyhandbutcouldtearoutthethroatofanythingthatopenedmydoor.
Iknewitwasweird.Jamiewouldcrucifymeforcreatingafictionalanimalbasedonthenewboyacrossthestreet—notthathe’dhaveproof.Butthat’sexactlywhatIdid,andtothisday,whenI’maloneinaforeignbarandwanttolookbusy,myhandwillstilldrawtheoutlineofValeskaonacoaster,withhiseyeslikeawolf,oranenchantedprince.
I’manexcellentjudgeofcharacter
WhenoneofthespoiledblondBarretttwinsfellintoacrevasse,ourfaithfulValeskawouldappear.Hispretty,spookyeyeswouldassessthesituation,thenyou’dfeelhisteethonyourcollar.Next,hisstrengthandthehumiliatingdragtosafety.You’reuseless,andhe’scompetent.Barbieconvertiblebroken?It’sjusttheaxle.Clickit.Actualcarbrokendown?Putthehoodup.Tryitnow.Thereyougo.
Itwasn’tjustmeasthefemaletwin.TomhastuggedJamiebythecollaroutoffistfights,bars,andbeds.AndineverycityI’veevertraveledto,whenI’veturnedthecornerintoadarkscaryalleybymistake,I’vementallysummonedValeskatowalktherestofthewaywithme.
Andthat’sweird,Iguess.Butit’sthetruth.
So,torecap,mylifesucks,andTomValeskaisonmyporch.He’slitbystreetlight,moonlight,andstarlight.I’vegotazipperinmystomachandI’vebeeninacrevassesolongIcan’tfeelmylegs.
Igetoutofthecar.“Patty!”Thankfuckforsmallanimalsandthewaytheycuttheawkwardness.TomsetsherdownandPeppermintPattytapsstifflyupthedrivetome.I’vegotoneeyefocusedontheblackporchbehindTom.Whennoelegantbrunettesstepoutintothelight,Igetdownonmykneesandsayasilentprayer.
PattyisashinyshorthairedblackandtanChihuahua,withabigappledomehead.She’sgotajudgmentalnarrowingtohereyes.Idon’ttakeitpersonallyanymore,butsheesh,thisdoglooksatyoulikeyou’reasteamingturd.It’sjustherface.Sheremembersme.Whatanhonortobestampedpermanentlyinhertinywalnutbrain.Ipickherupandkisshercheeks.
“Whatareyoudoingheresolate,TomValeska,world’smostperfectman?”Sometimesit’sarelieftohideyourmosthonestthoughtsrightoutinplainview.
“I’mnottheperfectman,”herepliesinkind.“AndI’mherebecauseI’mstartingonyourhousetomorrow.Youdidn’tgetmyvoicemails?”
“Myphoneisinabartoilet.Rightwhereitalwaysbelonged.”
Hewrinkleshisnose,probablygladhewasn’tsummonedtoretrieveit.
“Well,everyoneknowsyoudon’tansweryourphoneanyway.Approvalscamethroughalready,sowe’restarting…well,now.”
“Aldokeptpushingusbackforthemostbullshitreasons.Andnowit’stwomonthsearly?That’s…unexpected.”Nerveslightupinsideme.Thingsaren’tready.Morespecifically,me.“IfIknewyouwerecoming,IwouldhavestockeduponKwench.”
“TheydiscontinuedKwench.”Hesmilesandmystomachzips,silverstrong,allthewayuptomyheart.Inaconfidingtone,headds,“Don’tworry.I’vegotawinecellarfullofit.”
“Ugh,thatstuffisjustblackplasticwater.”Ifeelmyfacegoweird;IputmyhandonmycheekandI’msmiling.IfI’dknownhewascomingIwouldhaveperfectlyfoldedabathtowelandstockedthefridgewithcheeseandlettuce.Iwouldhavestoodatthefrontwindowtowatchforhiscar.
IfI’dknownhewascoming,Iwouldhavegottenmyshittogetheralittle.
Iwalkalongtheedgeofthepath,feelingthebrickswobble.“Youshouldonlydrinkitonspecialoccasions.YoucouldhaveaglassofKwenchwithyourcheese-and-lettucesandwichesonyoureightiethbirthday.That’sstillyourlunch,right?”
“Itis.”Helooksaway,defensiveandembarrassed.“IguessIhaven’tchanged.What’syourlunch?”
“DependswhatcountryI’min.AndIdrinksomethingalittlestrongerthanoff-brandcola.”
“Well,thenyouhaven’tchangedeither.”Hestillnevergivesmemorethanaone-secondlookbeforeblinkingaway.Butthat’sokay.OnesecondalwaysfeelslikealongtimewhenI’mwithhim.
ItalktoPatty.“YougotmyChristmaspresent,littlegirl.”Imeanhersweater.
“Thankyou,itfitshergreat.Minedoes,too.”ThevintageSt.Patty’sDayT-shirthe’swearing,probablyoutofpoliteness,isstretchedwaferthin,tryingtocope.Ifitwereaperson,itwouldbeanexhaustedwraith,gasping,Please,helpme.Itfitslikeadream.
Thekindofdreamyouwakeupfrom,allsweatyandashamed.
“Iknewyouwouldn’tbetoocooltowearaPattyT-shirt.”IfoundthatT-shirtinathriftstoreinBelfast,andinthatmoment,I’dfoundTomagain
Ihadn’ttalkedtohiminacoupleofyears,probably,butIfeltlitupontheinside.Itwastheperfectgiftforhim.Isentanairmailparcelcontainingthetwogarmentsaddressedto“ThomasandPatriciaValeska,”laughedforages,thenrealizedhisgirlfriendwouldprobablysignforit.I’dcompletelyforgottenaboutMegan.Ididn’tevenslipakeyringinthepackageforher.
Icheckhislefthand—stillbare.Thankfuck.ButI’vegottostartrememberingMegan’sexistence.RightafterIsaythisnextthing.
“So,goodT-shirtscandieandgotoheaven.”Igrinathisexpression:dismayed,surprised,andflattered.Allerasedinoneblink.I’maddicted.
“You’restillateenagedirtbag.”Primwithdisapproval,helooksathiswatch.
“Andyou’restillahotgrandpa.”Ipressthatoldbuttonandhiseyesglowinirritation.“Hadanyfunlately?”
“I’daskyoutodefinefun,butIdon’tthinkIcanhandletheanswer.”Heletsoutagrumblysighandtapshisbootonthedilapidatedstairs.“Wantmetofixthisornot,smart-ass?”
“Yesplease.WhileDaddystaysserious,we’llhavefun,won’twe,Patty?”Ibouncehergentlylikeababy.Hereyeshaveamilkybluetinge.“Ican’tbelievehowmuchshe’saged.”
“Timepassinggenerallydoeshavethateffect,”Tomsaysdryly,buthesoftenswhenIlookup.“She’sthirteennow.Seemslikeonlyyesterdaythatyounamedherforme.”Hefoldsdowntositonthetopstep,hiseyesonthestreet.“Why’dyoudrivepastjustnow?”
I’vestillgotoneeyeonthedarkspacebehindhim.SurelyMegan’sabouttostepout.ThisisthelongestuninterruptedconversationTomandIhaveeverhad.IneedJamietoslapthroughthefrontgate.
IcanneverdecideifTom’shairisthecolorofcaramelfudgeorchocolate.Eitherway,yum.Thetextureislikearomancenovelthat’sfallenintothebath,thendried:vaguelysexualcrinklewaveswiththeoccasionalcurlededgeanddog-ear.Iwanttojammyhandinitandmakeagentlefist.
Thosemuscles.IthinkI’mstartingtosweat.
“Youscaredtheshitoutofme.Ithoughtyouwere—”IshutmymouthanddancePattyonmyfoldedknee.“Honestly,she’ssocute.”
“Who’dyouthinkIwas?”Hishuskyvoicegetsmorebasstoitandascared-twistfeelinginmyguttightens.Bigmenaresocasuallybrutal.Lookatthesizeofthoseboots.Thosefists.Hecouldkill.ButthenIoverlaythememoryofaneight-year-oldboyoverthetopofhisadultshape,andIrememberValeska,andIexhale.
“JustsomedudeIthrewoutofthebar.Seriously,Tom,younearlygavemeaheart—”Goddamnit.Hiseyessnaptomychest.“Don’t,”Iorderfirmly,andheslouches,pickingatthesideofhisboot.Heknowstherules.Fussingisforbidden.
“IcanworryifIwant,Princess,”hegrumblestotheground.“Youcan’tstopme.”
“NoonecallsmePrincessanymore.DoIlooklikeaprincess?”IputPattyonthegrass.Hegivesmeaone-secondglance,toptobottom,andlooksaway,theanswerlockedinhisheadandalifttothecornerofhismouth.
Ohman,theurgetogetthatansweroutofhimisintense.It’dprobablyrequireputtingmyhandsonhimandsqueezing.
Igettomyfeetslowlytoavoidaheartscramble,thenlookbackatthedecalonthesideoftheblacktruck.Thepennydrops.Ispinaroundtohim.“ValeskaBuildingServices.Holyshit.You’refree.”
“Yeah,”hesayslikehe’sadmittingsomething,oneeyenarrowedashelooksupatmyface.
“Youdidit.”Ican’tstopthesmilespreadingacrossmyface.“YougotawayfromAldo.Tom,Iamsofuckingproudofyou.”
“Don’tgettooproud,”hewarns,duckinghisheadsoIcan’tseethathe’spleased.“Ihaven’tdoneanythingyet.”
WhenAldocamethroughtowntoassessthecottage,hesuggestedaplacewherewecouldhireabulldozer.That’shisleveloftact,discussingourdeceasedgrandmother’sestate.Jamielaughedatthejoke,sothere’shistactlevel,too.
IremindedthemthatitwasliterallyinLoretta’slastwillandtestamentthatthecottageberestored,andshe’dstipulatedabudgetbesetasideforit.Thelaughingstopped.Aldoheavedasighandfilledoutthecouncilapprovalpaperwork,sayingseveraltimesthathispendidn’twork.Islappedanotheroneinhishand,andhenarrowedhisbloodshoteyesatme.
Thiswillbealaboroflove,Aldosaid.Ahugeexpensiveriskymistake.
Itoldhim,Noshit,Sherlock.Keepwriting.WhydidLorettamakethefinalconditionthatJamieandIsell?DidsheneverstoptoconsiderthatImightwanttolivehereforever,wallowinginmyloneliness?Withtwins,everythinghastobesplitandfair.
“IguessAldotaughtyouthemostimportantlessonofyourcareer.”IwaitabeatasTommullsitover.“Whatnottodo.”
“True,”Tomsayswithafaintsmile,hiseyesonthedecalonhistruck.“Whenindoubt,I’llaskmyself,whatwouldAldodo?”
“Andyou’lljustdotheexactopposite.Youknowhegrabbedmybutt?Like,whenJamieandIvisitedyouonyourveryfirstjobsite?Whatapieceofshit.Iwasbarelyeighteen.Justakid.”
“Ididn’tknowthat.”Tom’smouthflattens.“Didyoubreakhishand?”
“You’reluckyIdidn’tcallyoutoburyabodyforme.Youwould,right?”Ican’thelpit;IwanttoknowifIcanstillsummonValeska,asmuchasIshouldn’t.HebelongstoMegannow.
“I’vegotashovelintheback,”hesays,noddingatthetruck.It’sadisturbingthrilltoknowhe’snotkidding.IfIneededhimto,he’ddigaholewithhisbarehands.“Iknowhewasanunprofessionalasshole,buthegavememyfirstchance.Ididn’thavealotofoptions,putitthatway.NotlikeyouandJamie.”Hesitshimselfupstraightandputshisbootstogetherlikeagoodboy.“Therewillbenoass-grabbingonmysite.”
“Dependsonwho’sdoingthegrabbing,”Isayinathoughtfultone,butcrackupwhenTom’seyesgetscary.“Iknow,Iknow.Nooneismoreprofessionalthanyou.Mybuttissafe.”
“I’mgoingtodoeverythingperfectly.”Tomwoncoloring-incompetitionsasakid.Thishouseisgoingtobehisbig-boyequivalent.
“Iknowyouwill.”IlookdownatTom’sshoulders.HisT-shirtistryingitshardest.He’sgottensobigsinceIsawhimlast.He’salwaysbeentallandmuscly,butthisisnextlevel.He’sbeenworkinghimselfintotheground.“Well,whatareyouwaitingfor?Ibetyouhaveakey.Lettherenovationscommence.”
“Imightstartinthemorning,ifyoudon’tmind.”Helaughs,groans,andstretchesinonemovement.Likehe’sflatinabedinsteadofonsomericketyoldstairs.“Idohaveakey.ButIknowhowyoufeelabout…privacy.”
Hesaysitlikeprivacyisonlyoneoftheoptionshecouldhavegonewith.Healwaysdoesthis;hegivesmeonetidbitonwhathethinksI’mlike,thenheclamsupuntilMeganjingleshercarkeysandhe’sgoneforanothersixmonths.
Thetidbitleavesmeravenous,andI’mwiringmyownjawshuttonotpressandaskformore.I’msweatingsomuchmytankisstucktomyback.
WewatchPattyasshepaddlesthroughtheleavesonthelawn,nosetotheground.Shehalfsquatsandchangeshermind.Tomsighswearily.“Nowit’stimetopee?She’shadnearlyanhourtodothis.”
“Well,I’mmoredeterminedthanevertofindmypassportnow.It’sdefinitelyinthehouse,butLoretta’shiddenit.”IclickmyfingersforPatty.Comeback,li’lbuffer.Ihaulmyselfdowntositonthestepbesidehim.
“Mighthavetoorderanewone,”Tomsayswithatoneofreluctance.
“Theoldonehasallmystampsinit.It’slikemyscrapbook.I’llfindittomorrowwhenIpack.”Lookinguptothesky,ItellLoretta,“Ineedtogetoutofhere.Giveitback.”
“Maybeshewantsyoutostickaroundforonce.”Hetookariskthere,tackingonforonce
“I’llignorethat,”Iwarnhim,andhejustlooksupatthestarryskyandsmiles.I’mpredictable,apparently.Soismystomach.Itfillswithsparkles.
Hisisthekindofbonestructurethatmakesmeblurtstupidthings.SoIdo.“EverysingletimeIseeyou,Ican’tbelieveyou’renotakidanymore.Lookatyou.”
“Allgrownup.”
Historsolookslikeapackofchocolate,withthesquaresvisiblethroughthewrapper.Youknowhowchocolatehasthatmatte-glossytexture?That’shisskin.Iwanttoscrapeacrosshimwithmyfingernails.IwanttostartmyweeklyHalloweenbinge.
Megan,Megan,diamondrings.Theincantationdoesn’tcompletelywork.
Hehasthekindofdensitythatmakesmeconstantlyguesstomyselfhowmuchhe’dweigh.Doesmuscleweighmorethanfat?He’saton.He’ssix-six,andIwatchedhimgetthistall,butit’sasurpriseeverytimeIseehim.It’sthebodyyouseeonfirstresponders.Thinkbig-assfiremenkickingindoors,readytosaveyou.
“Howdoyoucopewithaskeletonthatbig?”Iask,andhelooksdownathimself,mystified.“Imean,howdoyoucoordinateallfourlimbsandactuallyambulatearoundtheplace?”Myeyesarebackonhisshoulders,followingtheroundlinesdown,theflatsections,thedipsandshadowedlines,thecreasesonthecotton.
Icanseehisbelt,whichdoesn’tknowhowluckyitistobestrappedaroundthat,andalushhalfinchofblackunderwearwaistband,andmycheeksareburningandIcanhearmyheartand—
“Eyesup,DB.”He’sbustedme.NotthatIwasverysubtle.“Meandmyskeletongetaroundjustfine.Now,what’sgoingonwiththisricketyporch?”
ItrytothinkofhowIcanexplainit.Whatdidhappentothehouse?IthinkImessedupandneglectedit.Thatlooseboard,forexample?Ishouldhavefoundahammerandwhackeditflat.
“MytheoryisthatLoretta’smagicheldtheentirehousetogether.”IrubmypalmsbrisklyonmythighstobanishthecryingfeelingIknowisgoingtowellupinsideme.
HealwaysknowswhenIneedhimtochangethesubject.“Andwhathappenedtoyourhair?Yourmombrokethenews.”
“Ithinkshecalledeveryonesheknows.Hysterical,overafreakin’haircut.Oh,Princess,why?”Imock,tryingtokeepmymovementscasualasIpassmyfingersthroughit.Itfeelslikeaboy’sheadnow.Icrossmylegsandmytightleatherpantssqueak.Ismooththemwithablack-nailedhand.Ihaveneverbeenlessofaprincess.
IfMomknewIhaveanipplepiercingnow,she’dgivemethelectureabouthowmybody’satemple.Sorry,Mom,Ihammeredapicturehookintomyself.
“Sherangme,crying.Iwasuponaroof.Ithoughtthatyou…anyway.”Tom’sforeheadcreasesatthememory.“ImaginemyreliefthatDarcyBarretthadjustcutherplaitoff.Youwenttoabarbershop?”
“Yeah,Igotanoldbarbertodoit.What?Iwasn’tgoingtoawomen’shairdresser.They’dgivemeapixiecutorsomethingnauseatinglikethat.IspecificallywantedaWorldWarTwopilot’shaircut.”
“Okay,”Tomsays,amused.“So,didheknowhowtocutit?”
Islapatamosquito.“Yeah.Buthechangedhismindanddidn’twanttodoit.”
Tomlooksatwheremyhairusedtobe.“Itwaskindofspecial.”
Ididn’tknowhethoughtthat.Goddamnit.“He’dforgottenladyhairwassoft.HebeggedbutImadehim.Thesoundofthescissorsgoingthroughit…”Istillgetgoosebumps.“Itsoundedlikehewashackingthroughsinew.HeprayedinItalian.Itwaslikebeingexorcised.”
Tomiswry.“Makingscaredmenpray.Youreally,reallyhaven’tchanged.”
“Amen.”Istretchmyarmsuptotheskyandmyhumidclothesbarelymovewithme.SittingaroundwithTomValeskahasgivenmeonehellofalust-sweat
Theurgetotakeittoofaralwaysoverwhelmsme.Ithassincewebothhitpuberty.
“IloveitwhentheyprayinItalian,”Iwhisper,sexyhushed,andhewon’tmeetmyeye.“Please,please,SignoraDarcy,don’tmakeme.”
“Signorameansyou’remarried,doesn’tit?You’renotmarried.”HisvoiceisfaintandwhenIstudyhimsideways,thehairsonhisforearmsareraised.Howinteresting.
“Yeah,who’dmarryme.”It’snowmyturntoslouchdown,pickatmyboot,andchangethesubject.Idoitclumsily.“Hey,doeseveryoneassumeonedaythey’regoingtogetacallthatI’vedroppeddead?”
Hedoesn’tknowhowtoanswerthat,soIguessit’sayes.
“Mom’sgoodatdramaticphonecallsandforwardingphotos.IgotaMomSpecialaboutyou.”Irefusetolookathimnow.Iwrapmyarmsaroundmykneesandgrowl.“Goddamnit,Tom.Whatthehell.”
HeknowsexactlywhatImean.“I’mreallysorry.”
Tom’sengaged!Finally,it’sbeensolong!Hismotherisfittoburst!Twocarats,canyoubelieve?Darcy,saysomething,isn’titfantastic?
IfI’dbeenuponaroof,Iwouldhaveendedupintraction.Instead,Iwentoutanddranktwentytoaststothebeautifulcouple.Itwasabendereightyearsinthemaking.
Iwokeuptoaphotoofasugar-lumpdiamondonaperfectlymanicuredhandandpuked.IwaslatetotheweddingIwasshooting.Oneofthemaincoursesatthereceptionwasseabassandtheroomstanklikeawharf.Afterthebridearticulatedheropinionsaboutmylackofprofessionalism,Ithrewupinanumbrellastandbythedoor.
Andmeanwhile,Lorettawasgoingoutintothegardentohidehercoughingfitsfromme,andJamiewasapplyingforfancyjobsinthecityandspendinglesstimewithme.Thatentireyearwasonemassivevomit,andthetasteisstillinmymouth.
“Idon’tacceptyourapology.Younevercalledmeyourself,youjerk.Dowejustusemymomasacommunicationmethodthesedays?Aren’twepals?”Ikickhisbootwithmysmallerone,moregentlythanIwantto.“AmIgonnabeblindedbythisringwhenIseeit?”
It’sasclosetoCongratulationsasIcanmanage.Or,When’sshegettinghere?Hey,Isentthemacard.TheyprobablylaughedtheirassesoffpicturingDarcyBarrettintheHallmarksection.
Tomopenshismouthtoanswerbutisdistractedbyacarthatgrumblespastthecottageatawalkingpace.It’samusclecar,heavyandlowtotheground.Itsenginethrumsasitrollsuptothecurb.
IhaveabadfeelingIknowwhothisis,andTomdoesn’tlikehim.Chapter4
Tombeginstostand,andthecaracceleratesandsquealsoff.Oh,tohavesuchabigscarysilhouette.Lifewouldbesoeasy.
“Whowasthat?”Tomsinksbackdown.
ItwasVince,comingaroundherelikeatomcat.“Noidea.”
IputamarshmallowinmymouthsoIcan’ttalkanymore.TomknowsI’mlying,andwhenhebeginstoargue,Istuffamarshmallowinhismouth,too.He’sannoyedandamused.Ifelthislipsonmypalm.Thisnightisn’tallbad.
Ashiseyefixesontomyboot,thestreetlightcreatesablackbladeunderhischeekbone.I’dclickmycamerarightnow.Now,ashelooksatmylegsandhislashescreateadarkcrescentshadow.Now,whenthoseeyescuttomineandthere’sasparkoflightinthem,andanotherthoughtaboutmeinhishead.Thenhelooksaway.
Onesecondisallittakestogetmyheartbeatflippinglikeafishinanet.
Iblurt,“CanItakeyourphotoyet?”
“No,”hereplies,softandpatient,likehehaseverytimebefore.Hedoesn’tunderstandhisownface.HehastobedraggedintotheChristmaspicture,posedbehindMeganwithanunconvincingsmilethatlooksmorelikeconcern.
Oh,that’sright.I’maprimecandidatetobetakingpicturesofhiminasuitatthealtar.
“That’sokay.Humanfacesaren’treallymybreadandbutterthesedays.”Ilinkmyfingerstogetherandtrytodredgeupsomeself-control.
Getittogether,Darcy.It’snothisfaulthewasbornwithyourfavoritekindofbones.He’sasweetshysolid-goldhuman.Someone’sfiancé.You’reateenagedirtbag.Leavehimalone.
He’sclammedupcompletely.We’rerunningoutoftopics.Workisasafezone.“Soyou’refinallyyourownboss.HowdidAldotakeit?”
Tomhuffsarelievedlaugh.“Howdoyouthinkhetookit?”
“He’sgoingtohavetodosomeactualworkhimself.Yeah,I’dsayitwentbadly.”Ifeelmyselfinflatingwithoverprotectiveness.Bigger.Darker.“DoIneedtogoandmakehimapologizetoyou?”
TomlaughsatwhateverIlooklike.“Don’tgetgrowly.”
“Ican’thelpit.Peopletakeadvantageofyou.Evenus.”Usmeansthetwins.
Youguysdon’ttakeadvantageofme.”He’sbracedbacknowwithhispalmsflatontheporch,endlesslegssplayedout.Ileanbacktoo,justtofeelhowourbodiescompare.MyhandispositivelyChihuahua-sizednexttohisValeskapaw.Mybootishalfwaydownhisshin.Iturnmyhead.Myshoulder?It’sanupturnedmugsittingbesideabasketball.
I’mnotaparticularlypetitewoman,buthemakesmefeellikeI’msoft.Littleandlight.Aprincess.Ifrown,situp,andforcemyselfbackintoageometricshape.
“Aldowantedtobumpyourhouseforabigger,easierjob.Isaiditcouldn’twaitanylonger.Ifyouguyshavechangedyourmindaboutrenovating,I’mkindascrewed,”hesays,barelyjoking.“Itookmostofthecrewwithme.”
“Don’tworry,we’reallgood.Maketheplacebeautifulandgetmeoutofhere.”Hetookthecrew?Icannotimaginehimmakingthatkindofpowermove.Ilookathisbruteframeinmyperipheralvision,andmaybeIcan.“Takeitfromme,it’sweirdnotbeingonapayroll.”Inudgehisshoulderwithmine,resistingtheurgetorestagainsthim.“Thanksforchoosingusoverhim.”
“Well,thankyou.For,ah,employingme.”
“Oh,I’myourbossnow?”JustasadopaminesurgefillsmeandIthinkofsomanysleazy,funnyresponsesthatIcouldgowith,theimageofMegan’sfacemakesmebitemylipshut.TeasinghimismyOlympicsport,andIcanonlycompeteonceeveryfouryears.Buthe’sgoingtobeherhusbandsoon.“Thinkofusasbusinesspartners.”
Hegivesmeastrangelook.“Areyouokay?”
“Sure,I’mfine.”
Hegetstohisfeet.“IwasbracingmyselfforaclassicDarcyzinger.Howdidyoumanagetoresist?”HeholdsahanddownandpullsmeupsoeasilyImomentarilyleavetheground.
Isigh.Anotheroflife’spleasuresisover.“Iofficiallyretire.Forobviousreasons.”
Iclimbacoupleofstepstobeclosertohiseyelevel.Pattyisstilltootlingaroundinthegarden.“Hurryitup,”Itellher,huggingmyarmsaroundmywaist.“I’mgettingcold.”
“What’sthat?”Tom’snoticedthereddenedmarkonmywrist.Hecanalwayssniffoutdanger.
“Justareactiontomynewperfume.”
Tomreachesformyarmbutstopswhenaninchseparatesourskin.Heopenshishandoverthemarkandmeasuresit.He’spissed.Outraged.Mouthopenfromthesheeraudacity.I’msurprisedtheskydoesn’tunfurlintoblackthunderclouds,cracklingwithlightning.“Whodidit?”
“Don’tfuss.”Iwrapmyforearmbehindmybackandputmoremarshmallowsintomymouth.ThroughthewhitesugarfoamIsay,“Looksworsethanitis.”Whatahorriblesentence.
“Whodidit?”Herepeatsit,hiseyessupernaturalorange.Helooksbackatthestreet.He’sgoingtohuntthatblackcardown.He’sgoingtotearoutVince’sthroat.
Howdoesnooneelseevernoticethisbeastinsidehim?
“No,notthatguy.Anotherfuckingidiotatwork.Heknowstonotdoitagain.”
I’vealreadygotmyfollow-upretortlockedandloaded:Icantakecareofmyself.Heknowsit.Westarelikewehateeachother.
Icanfeeltheenergyinhimshimmering.He’sgotthoughtsandopinions,buthe’sswallowingthem,andtheytasteawful.He’sprobablythinkingaboutwhathe’ddotoanyonewhoputamarkonMegan.He’dlickupblood.
“Ifheneedsreminding,letmeknow,”hemanagesatlast.He’stwistingawayfrommenow,puttingdistancebetweenus.Thisissomethinghedoesn’tlikeaboutme.Mydark,messylifestylescarestheshitoutofhim.
I’mstrugglingwithmytempertoo,foradifferentreason.Iwouldn’tmindbettingMegan’stoosimpletorealizewhatshehas.She’sathomeembalmingherself,bleachinghercuticlesandlubricatingherfolliclesorwhateveritisthatwell-groomedwomendo.She’sanaestheticianafterall,andnoonecantrustaslovenlybeautytherapist.Ibetshe’sstaringatherownfaceinthemirror.
Meanwhile,herfiancéislikeanapplepieonawindowsill,andthisworldisfullofsugaraddictslikeme.It’shergoddamncarelessnessthathasalwaysgottenme.
Ifheweremine…Ican’tletmyselfthinkit.
Myjawachesfromnotblurtingeverythingout.“Let’sgoin.”
Valeskashakesthesnowfromhisfur.Ishakethesnowfrommine.Heholdsupanancientkeyring.“Checkitout.”
“Well,that’sablastfromthepast.”
It’sakeyringgiventoTombyLorettawhenwewerekids;it’sGarfield,wearingearphones,withOdienexttohim,mouthopeninabark.Printedis:SILENCEISGOLDEN!ThatwasLoretta’snicknameforTom:Golden.IwasSweetness,andJamiewasSalty.
Nicknameswereeverywhere,growingup.Prince,Princess.Mydad’sspecialnameforTomthatmadehimgoredandpleased:Tiger.MaybeDaddidknowwhatwebroughtinthatnight.
“Ilovethatyouhaveakey,”Isaywithoutthought,likeacreep.“Thiswouldbeacollector’sitem,probably.”IusehisGarfieldkeytounlockthedoor,andhescrapeshisthumbnailintotheemptyscrewholeswheremyBARRETTWEDDINGPHOTOGRAPHYbrassplaqueusedtobe.He’sprobablythinkingabouthowI’llnevershoothiswedding.“Yeah,yeah,I’msorry.”Butalso,I’mnot.
Ipushthedooropenwithmyknee.He’slookingnowattheremainingplaquethatreadsMAISONDEDESTIN,hungbyLorettatosetthemoodforhertarotclients.Ooh.Somethingaboutdestiny.Fancy.He’swistfulasheuseshisthumbtocheckifit’sscrewedtight.
“Imisshersomuch,”hetellsme,andwearesadandsilentuntilPattydoesherjackhammerrunthroughourlegs,sneezingandhuffing.Thankyou,littleanimal.
Iclickonthenearestlamp,andthefirstthingweseeismyunderwear.Abovethefireplace,there’sarowoffancyblackbrashanginguptodryontheoldnailsthatonceheldourChristmasstockings.
“Well,”Tomsaysafterabeat.“ThatwouldgiveSantaastroke.”
Ilaughandthrowmykeysontothecoffeetable.“Iwasn’texpectingcompany.”TheechoofVince’scarreverberatesthroughtheroomlikeanotherlie.Pattysetsoffwithsingle-mindeddeterminationdownthehall.
“Ifyoupeeinside,youaregettingintrouble,”Tomsaystoherdepartingform.
Iunhookthebrasandtossthemonthearmchair.“Christ,whatanight.I’mgladyou’rehere.”Ipulloutthewinebottleandusethehemofmytoptoworkonthescrew-toplid.
Heholdsoutahand.Itwouldbeeasy-peasyforhim.“Here,I’lldoit.”
“I’mperfectlycapable.”Isteparoundhimintothedarkkitchen.IfI’mnotfirmwithhim,heslipsandstartstryingtodoeverythingforme.PrincessMode.“Doyouwantsome?Ordogoodboyslikeyouneedtogetintobed?”
Eyebrowsdown.“GoodboyslikemegetupatfiveA.M.”
“BadgirlslikemegotobedatsixA.M.”Igrinathisdespairingheadshake.Hereachesforthelightswitchonthewall,butIstophim.“You’llgetazap.”
“Seriously?Haveyoubeenzapped?”Aghast,helooksatmychest.Itcontainstheonethinghecannotfix.
“No,becauseIlearnedfromJamie’smistake.”Ican’thelpgrinning.Holyfuck!Ow!Darce,stoplaughing!Thathurt!
“Smilingatthethoughtofyourbrotherbeingelectrocuted.”Tomdoesn’twanttobeamusedbuthecan’thelpit.“Suchabadgirl.”
“I’mtheworst.”Iuseawoodenspoontofliptheswitch.“Okay,soit’slookingbadinhere.”
Iwatchhimscantheroomfromtoptobottom:thewater-stainedceiling,thebubblingwallpaper,thefloorboardsthatbounceunderhisfeet.I’vebeenusedtoit,butnowIseethefullextentoftheroom’sshabbiness.
“CanyoutellmewhatyourfightwithJamiewasabout?I’veheardhisside.ButIwanttohearyours.”Heturnsaway,hiseyesfollowingthelineofacrackinthewall.Behindhisback,Idrinkmyentireglassofwinesoundlessly.Whenheturnsaround,I’mholdingasecondfullglass.Theperfectcrime.
“WhatcanIsay?Mytempergotthebetterofme.”Isipdaintily.
“Okay,”Tomhalflaughsasheturnsonthekitchentap.Itspluttersandsprayshim,andwhenheturnsitoff,wehearalouddripping.Hefindsthesinkbucketinthecabinetunderneath.“Aw,jeez.”
Hisphonechimes,andhelooksatthescreen,asmileontheedgeofhismouth.Hetextsback,probablysomethinglike,It’sokay,Iarrivedsafe.Missyou,Megs.
Ahotfeelinggrabsmebythethroat.Iwanttotakehisphoneandflushitallthewaytothesewageplant.Idrinkamouthfulofwineandithelpsabit.
“So,thedayImadeJamieverymad.WheredoIstart?Wehadbeendrivingeachotherinsane.Livinginbedroomsnextdoortoeachotherwaseasywhenwewerekidsandwehadyouinabunkbedtomediate.”
Butwithnobuffer,wewereagitatingandarguing.Jamiewantedustomovetothecity.Iwantedtostay.Icouldn’tbuyhimout.Itwasatug-of-warargumentthatIcouldn’twin,becauselikeMomsaid,Lorettawantedustotartupthecottageandsplitthemoney.Thinkofitasalittlenestegg,Momsaid,pattingmyheart.
ItoldherthatIdidn’twantanestegg.ThewayI’dearneditwastoomuchformetobear.Momwasgentle.I’msorry,Princess.Iknowwhatshemeanttoyou.Thisisherwayofshowingwhatyoumeanttoher.
“SotherewasaknockonthedooroneSaturdaymorning.Jamiewasoutjogging.ItwasearlyandIwasvery…tired.”
Hiseyesmovetomyglass.
“Okay,itwaslikeelevenA.M.,andIwashungoverashell.Onthedoorstepwassomegood-lookinghotshotgivingmehisbusinesscard.IthoughtIwashavingasexdream.”
“SofarthisismatchingJamie’sversionexactly.”Tomunlatchesthekitchenwindow,liftsitafraction,thenjigglesitallthewayopen.Onlysomeonewhopracticallygrewupinthishousewouldknowthatlittletrick.“Ialwaysmeanttofixthatforher.”Sadeyesnow.Henevermethisowngrandparents.I’mgladhecouldshareours.
“Lorettawouldhavetoldyouthatwindowisn’tbroken.”Thewineiswarmsatininmyveins.I’msomehowpouringmythirdglass.Tomthinksit’smysecond.Heh.
“Soyouwerepossiblyhavingasexdream…,”Tomprompts,andIrealizeI’mstandingintherefrigeratorlight,staringatnothing.WhatamIgoingtogivehimforbreakfast?Abodylikethatneedsprotein.AVikingbanquettable,mugsofale,acracklingfire.Ananimalskindrapedlowonhiships.Me,lyingbonelessandspentinthecrookofhiselbow,stillaskingformore.
Ifillmymouthwithwineandshutthefridge.
“Asexdream,”Tompromptsagain.
Ispraythemouthfulofwineontothefridgedoor.Myoverduephonebillisnowawatercolor.
“Yeah,sohe’sgotmeoutonthefrontpath.He’stellingmehowsorryheisaboutLoretta,blahblah.Hewastalkinglikeheknewher.Eventhoughhewasflirty,Iknewitwasn’tasexdream,becausehisclotheswerestillon.Hewasbummingmeoutabouthowbadthecottagelooked.ThenIrealized.Hewasadeveloper.”
“DouglasFranzofromShapleyGroup,right?”
“Yeah.”Jamie’sprobablyrantedthistoTomahundredtimesbefore.DouglasfuckingFranzo!ThesonoftheCEO!Important!Rich!Powerful!“Iaskedhimtoleave.”
“Accordingtoyourbrother,”Tomsaysonagruntashepullsthestiffwindowbackdown,“youwentballisticandhetoreupthewrittenoffer.ThenyouchasedhiscardowntothecornerofSimonsStreet,barefoot,wearingnothingbutarobe.”
“Sothat’sadetailyouremember,huh?”Itrymyalpha-dogeye-contactstarebuthedoesn’tlookawaythistime.Onesecondticksintotwo.Three.Ilookdownintomywineglass.“YouknowIhatewhenyoucompareourstories.Whyevenaskmeifyoualreadyknowhowitwent?Jamiecamejoggingaroundthecornerinhissweatbandsbellowing,Whatthefuck,andtherestishistory.”
Ihopemytwindidn’tfinishtellingit.WorldWarIIIhappenedinthisverykitchen.Afterheleft,unabletotrusthimselftonotkillme,IkneltonthefloorandpickedupthepiecesoftheRoyalAlbertdinnersetwe’dsmashed.We’dthrownitateachother,plateafterplate.
AnotherbeautifulthingtheBarretttwinscouldnotdeserve.Whodoyouthinkyouare,anyway?
Tomgivesmeadon’tgetgrouchylookashetoeshisbootaroundtheskirtingboards,wigglingandlooseningeverythinghetouches.“Idon’tbelieveallthethingsyourbrothertellsmeaboutyou.Theyalwayssoundmadeup.”
“Thenyoufindoutit’strue,andyourillusionsareshattered,yetagain.”
“Idon’tknowaboutillusions,exactly.I’veknownyoualongtime.”
Mythirdglassofwinegoesdownthehatch.“Jamiecrawledaroundthefrontpathfindingthetorn-uppiecesoftheoffer.Hetapedittogether.Canyoubelievethat?”
“Yes.Therewouldhavebeenadollarsignmotivatinghim.”
“Hesetupameetingwiththeguy,triedeverything.Heliterallysenthimafruitbasket.ButI’dfuckeditup.”
“Knowingyou,youdon’tregretit,”Tomsays.Iwatchhisexpressionsettleintothoughtful,andIleanonthebrokenovenandwatchhimmovearoundtheroom.What’shelookingfor?Theonethingthatissalvageable?“What’syournextbigadventure,then?”
“I’llhelppackupthisplace.ThenI’mgoingtogetonthefirstplaneIcomeacross.”Ishrugwhenhelooksdubious.“Imeanit.I’llprobablyjustgetagooddealonsomewherewarmthatdoesn’tneedavisa.Andwhat’syournextbigdestination?”Ican’tsayhoneymoonbecauseitwillcomeoutlikeaburp.IpictureTomandMeganlyingonabeach.ThenIcropMeganoutoftheimage.
“I’llfindsomethingcheapandflipit.That’swhatI’malwaysdoingnext.”
“Enoughwork!Makesureyourhotelhasafabulouspool,”Isuggestthroughmyteeth.TeenageDarcyusedtositontheedgeandcounthislaps.I’dlosecount,hypnotizedbyhisrhythmicgaspsofair.Ittookmeafewyearstorealizetheygavemethestomachshiversbecausetheywerehopelesslyerotic.“You’restillswimming,right?”
Herollshisshouldersreflexively.“Ihaven’thadtime.Notinprobablytwoyears.Whereareyoumovingafterthis?Gettingarental?”Hisnosewrinkles.“Domeafavor,getaniceplace.”
“Idon’tknow.I’veonlyjustgottenusedtohavingamailingaddress.I’llputmystuffinstorageandI’llstayatthebeachhousewhenI’mback.”Ihopethatdidn’tsoundlike,I’mtravelinglikeabigspoiledbabyforever,andwhenI’mnot,I’llbeinMommyandDaddy’shouseeatingbreakfastinbed.
“Irebuilttheirbackdeck.Itwastoosmallforthem.”TypicalTom,sweatingfortheBarrettswheneverrequired.“I’msurethey’reoutonitrightnow,kissingunderthemoonlight.”
“Ugh,gross.Probably.”MomandDadhavechemistry.Iwillleaveitatthat.“Youdidn’tevenswimintheoceanwhileyouwerethere?”
“Ididn’teventhinkofit,”hesays,lookingalittlesurprised.“Whoops.”
“Youbelonginwater.Nexttime,swim.”Igobackintothelivingroomandthrowmyselfontothecouch.Pattyhammersinfromnowhere,louderthanaT.rex,apencilclenchedbetweenherteeth.I’vegottoaskthehardquestions,togetthemoutoftheway.
“Whereareyougoingforyourhoneymoon?”Noanswer.I’lltryagain.“I’vebeeneverywhere.Icangiveyouguyshelpwithyouritinerary.”HeavoidsmyeyesandIslumpdownintothecushions.MaybeifIdon’tagreetobehisphotographer,I’llbeluckytoevengetaninvite.IcanimagineMomexplainingittomenow.Small.Intimate.Onlytheirclosestfamilyandfriends.
Holyshit.That’sit.I’mnotinvitedandhe’stryingtoworkouthowtotellme.
Tommovestothediningroomandrisksturningthelighton.It’smylittlephotographystudionow.Boxesofmerchandisesitagainstthewall.“Thisiswhatyoudothesedays?”
“Yep.”Idiginmybagofmarshmallows.Timetoplugthisachingvoidinside.IhitshuffleonLoretta’sretrostereoandtheCurecomeson.Thevoidgapeswiderinadeliciousway.
“Mugs.”Hesaysitdoubtfully.“Youtakephotosofmugssotheycanbesoldonwebsites?IdefinitelythoughtJamiehadmadethatup.”
“It’strue.”Ipackmymouthwithsweetwhitefoamandsipsomewinetodissolveitall.“Notjustmugs.Don’tlookinthatone,”IwarnTomwhenhegoestolookintheboxes.
“Whatisit?”Heflipsopentheboxlid.“Okaythen.”
“It’ssurprisinglyhardtogetthelightingrightonaten-inchpurpledildo.”
“I’msureit’simpossible.”Heisscandalizedtothecore.Itisadorable.Helooksbackdown,unabletoresist.
“Don’tgodigginginthatdirtybox,Tom,you’llneedbrainbleach.”Ihavethestrongestfeelinghewantsto.
I’dgivemyleftventricletoknowwhathethoughtaboutallthatsilicone.Disgusting?Interesting?Onparwithwhat’sinhisnavycargopants?It’ssohardtotellwhenhelooksup.Herearrangeshisexpressionintoprimdisapproval.
God,suchagoodboy.Igrinlikeashark.“Theyletmekeepstuffsometimes.”Iwatchasheskittersaroundtheroomoffwallsandfurniturelikeabigpinball.ThenIrelievehim.“I’vegotsomanymugs.”
“Mugs,”hesaysagainlikeit’sthecauseofallthatiswronginthisworld.“Idon’tthinkthisisvery…you.You’reanaward-winningportraitphotographer.”
“Aucontraire.Wistfulportraitsofsextoysareverymuchmethesedays.”Ishrugathisexpression.“Hey,Ijustshootwhattheysendme.I’vepersonallytakeneverysingleproductshotontheentireInternet.”
MyvoiceblursdrunkenlyattheedgesandIknowhehearsit.“Noonethinksaboutwhotakesthephotos.Theyjustclickandaddthatdildototheircart.”
Iarchmyback,unclipmybra,andsagbackdownwithagroan.OutthearmholeandItossthebraontothepile.Tomavertshiseyesthroughthewholething.
Exceptsomehow,Ifeellikehewatchedmedoit.Chapter5
Ican’tstopmyselffrompressingmylittlewoundagain.Idon’tfeellikeTom’sscoldedmeforit.Ideservealecture.
“JamiesaidevenLorettawouldhavesaidIwascrazytopassupthatdeveloper’soffer.MaybeIwouldhavereacteddifferentlyifIknewI’dbasicallylosemybrotheroverit.”
Wow.Isoundedcompletelynormalsayingthatoutloud.
TomsaysinsuchakindvoicethatIwanttocry,“Youhaven’tlosthim,DB.You’vejustpissedhimoff.”
“I’vewitnessedhimiceoutsomanypeopleovertheyears.Ineverthoughtitwouldbeme.Rememberthatguyheworkedwith,Glenn?Hemadehimrepayaloanwhenhiswifewasinthematernityward.”
“Yeah.BecauseGlenngotthepromotionhewanted.He’ssogoodtothepeopleinhiscircle—”
Ihuff.“Andit’satinycircle.”
“Butifhe’scrossed,orslighted,orhethinkshe’sbeen‘betrayed,’hejustturnsinto…”
“Ice.He’sice.JustlikeI’mice.”
“You’refire,”Tomsaysbackwithoutthought.“You’reopposites.”
There’sanothertidbit.Anothersurpriseviewonme.AnymanwhosawmeatworktonightwouldhavesaidIwascoldtothebone.“Iwanttobeice.”
“Takeitfromme,iceistheworst.Pleasestayfiery.”Hepausesandsighs.He’ssadaboutsomething.“Anyway,Idon’tthinkyoudidthewrongthing.You’dbeokaywithanapartmentcomplexhere?Andgoingagainstherfinalwishes?”
“Ofcoursenot.Well,it’sneverhappeninganywaynow.Ipissedthatguyoffsobadhejustpickedanotherstreet.Let’sjustsayIcan’tgonextdoorforacupofsugaranymore.”Idrinkfrommywineglass.“Asatwin,thebiggerissuewasthatImadeadecisiononmyown.Noconsultation:thecardinalsin.”
“Youyankedhischain,big-time.”Tomknowsmybrother’sbuttonsjustaswellasme.Therearethreebigones,labeledMONEY,LOYALTY,DECISIONS
Thewispyremnantsofmyheartmedication,fromwheneverIlastrememberedtotakeit,aremixingwiththewineinaninterestingway.I’veworkedhardtobuildupatolerance.
Itoeoffmyboots.“I’mstillkindofdrunkonthepowerofactuallybeingfifty-fiftyownerswithJamieinsomething.Idon’tthinkit’severhappened.”
Hemovestothewallandbeginstopressatthebubblesinthewallpaper.“Sureithas.”
“Comeon,relax.”Ipointatthearmchair.Hemovesthebrapileandsits.Hecanbesolusciouslyobedient.“Jamiehasneverletmeactuallyhavehalfofanything.EvenifMomgaveusapieceofcakeaskidsandtoldustoshare…”
Tomfinishesmysentence.“Jamiewouldcutitsixty-forty.”
“Hesaiditwasbecausehewasbigger.Hedeservedmore.”IeyeTomnow,sittingthereinthatchair,lookinglikeapieceofcake,oranotherbeautifulphotographI’llnevergettotake.Thelamplightlovesthatfaceofhis.I’mgettingdrunkbutIcan’tstopmyself.“Inevergottoshareyou.”
Iwatchhimmullthisover.Hecan’tdenyit.Ourentirechildhoodwasspentatoppositeendsofthediningtable,mybossyblondbrotheralwaystalking,laughing,dominating.Functioningasthelinebetweenus.LeaveTomalonewasacommonrefrain.Ignoreher.Sittingherewithhimaloneisanovelty.
We’reallshareholdersinTomValeska:Jamie,Megan,andme.Hismomandmyparents.LorettaandPatty.Everyonewho’severmethimwantsapieceofhim,becausehe’sthebestpersonthereis.Iquicklycountupallofthosepeople.Iincludehisdentistanddoctor.Maybehe’sonly1percentmine.Thathastobeenough.Ihavetoshare.
Thewineiswashingthroughmyveinsinawarmcuddlywave.“Why’dhehavetobebornfirst?Iswear,ifIwashisbigsister,everythingmightbedifferent.”
“YourdadalwaysjokedthatJamiewastheprototype.”Tom’ssparklingwithhumor.“Thatmeansyou’rethefinalproduct.”
“Prettycrappyfinalproduct,completewithdefects.”Iclapmychestandmybreastjigglesshamefully.
“Iwasmeaningtoask,”Tomsayscarefully,avoidingeyecontactlikehe’sedgingclosetoasilverback,“how’syourspool?”
That’swhathecallsmyheart,sincewewerekids.It’sbeentoolongformetorememberwhy.Tohim,insidemychestisaspoolofcottonthread.ThisguyhassomanymethodstomanagetheBarretttwins,it’strulyimpressive.Hiscuteeuphemismalwaysuntwistsmyknickers.
“Myspoolisjustfineanddandy.I’mgoingtoliveforever.I’mgoingtopourKwenchonyourgrave.Ugh.NowayI’mgoingtoexplainthattoelderlyMegan.I’vechangedmymind.I’lldiefirst.”
“Iworryaboutyou.”
“Iworryaboutbighotdorkswhoasktoomanyquestions,whoarestuckinahouselateatnightwithme.”Istretchmylegsandmytankslipsoffmybareshoulder.Iwonderifmynipplepiercingisdoingwhatitdoesbest,throughmyclothes:punctuatingtheobvious.Judgingfromthewayhe’slookingatme,thebras,andthedarknessoutside,he’sjustrealizedthatoureighteen-yearfriendshiphasfinallyhitabelatedmilestone.
We’realone.
IlookintohiseyesandIfeelthatcrackleinhimagain.Everyoneelseseesamild-manneredsweetheart.WhatIfeel,betweenus?It’sneverquitehuman.“Youknowwhythisfeelssoweird,don’tyou?”
Adoorcreaksopenandwebothjump.Ifanyonehadasecretpassagewaybehindabookcaseintothishouse,itwouldbeJamie.
Loretta’scatDianawalksin,huffyandannoyed,hergreeneyestrainedonPatty.She’sanotheroneofourinheritances.Idislikeheronapersonallevel,butagainIhavetoappreciatehowanimalscanbreaktensionlikemagic.
Isnapmyfingersatherandshegivesmealooklike,You’refuckingkidding,right?“Ihatetobecynical,butdoyouthinkLorettahadthiscattoaddtohermysticaltarot-readerpersona?”
Tomshakeshishead.“Shewasn’tascammer.Shereallybelievedinit.”
He’sprettymuchtriedeverythingonLoretta’smenu.Shewasfascinatedbyhispalm.Predictably,hehasonehellofaheartline.Likeabladehascutrightthroughyou,shetoldhimwithaslicingmotion.Onebigone.Hislittle-kidfacepinchedinsurpriseashelookedathishandlikehewassearchingforblood.
Loretta’sspecialtywastarot,butsheofferedeverything:tealeaves,IChing,numerology,astrology,fengshui.Palms,dreams,andpendulums.Pastlives.Poweranimals.Auras.OncewhenIcameoverasateenager,IwashaltedbyaSéanceinProgressPost-itnoteonthedoor.
Igesturearoundus.“Iknow.AndIthinkshewastherealdeal.Butholyshit,shebackedherselfupwithalotofambiance.”
Thewallpaperisblood-redhyperrealhydrangeas.Thecurtainsarefringedwithjet-blackbeadsthatglitterinthelight.Thelowcoffeetabletransformseasilyenoughwhenathick,sparklingclothisputoverit,evenmoresowiththecrystalball.
It’slikesittinginsideagenie’sbottle.Whenthefirecracklesinthehearthandtherubylampsareon,youcouldbelieveanythinginthisbeautifulroom.TheairisstillheavywithLoretta’ssignatureincense:sage,cedarwood,sandalwood,andthefaintestincriminatingwhiffofpot.Inthisroom,Imisshertheleast.
“Thatfireplaceisinmytopfivefavoritethingsinthisworld.”Itipmyfacetowardit.“Ican’twaituntilitgetscoldandIcanlightitagain.”Imentallycountforwardthepagesonthecalendar.“Oh.Well,shit.”
Tomlinkshisfingerstogetherandleansforward.“Wecanlightitagainbefore…”
Inodandtrytoswallowthesad.“Justonemoretimewouldbegreat.IguessIhaven’tcompletelythoughtaboutwhatI’mgoingtohavetosaygoodbyeto.”
Withadismissivenose-wrinkle,DianajumpsuponthearmofTom’schairandPattyvibrateswithoutrage.Thesedear,sweetbuffers.
“IbeggedJamietotakeher.”Iopenanewbagofmarshmallows,becausethevoidisgettingbigger.“Everyeviloverlordneedsafluffycattostroke.”
Tomoffershishandtoherandsheroughlyrubsherwhitecheekalonghisknuckles,beforelookingatmewithsmugacid-greeneyes.Fairenough.I’dlovetodothesametohim.Heyawnsandslumpsalittle,unawarethatmyscrewsaregettinglooserbythesecond.Iremembersomething.
“So,Jamie’sroomisanissue.”
Heseizesthechancetoleavetheroom,soIguessmystareisgettingtohim.Icallafterhim,“It’snotmyfault.Ididn’tknowyouwerecoming.”
“It’suptotheceiling,”hesaysfromthehall.“Darcy,seriously.”
“Idon’thaveanystoragespace,andJamiejustwon’tcomeandgethisstuff.SoIjust…stackedittotheceiling.”Iamsloshingwineintomyglassagainwhenheappears.Heconfiscatesthebottle,toweringoverme,holdingituptothelighttolookatthelevel.
“That’senoughfortonight.”Hetouslesmyhairwithhisfingerstosoftenthescolding.“Ican’tgetusedtoit.Itreallyissoshort.”
Hestillhasn’tsaidthatitlooksgood.Iwon’task,becausehecan’tlie.Meganhasabeautifulglossydarkmane.EvenIwanttotouchherhair.
“IlooklikeI’minaKoreanboyband,butIdon’tcare.Icanfeeltheaironthebackofmyneck.”Istretchashisfingertipsdepart,andhopefullyhedoesn’tnotice.Ineedphysicaltouchmorethansunlight,andit’sembarrassing.AhologramofVinceappearsandIblinkitaway.
“Ipersonallydidn’tknowyouhadaneck.Whathappenedtoyourplaitafteritwascut?Notthebin.”Thethoughthorrifieshim.
“Idonatedit.Someoneoutthereiswalkingaroundwithabigwhitewig.So,doIlooklikeJamienow?”
Helaughsandtheroomgetsbrighter.I’mnotsayingthattobecute;it’strue.Thelampsallblazeup.Shotelectricalwiring—orLorettaspyingonus?IknowwhichI’dputmymoneyon.“Whatdidyourbrothersaywhenyourmomsenthimthephoto?”
“ThatIlooklikeawannabeGothJoanofArcandthatIchoppedoffmyonlyredeemingfeature.Idon’tcare.Iloveit.”
Heputsthebottleandglassoutofreach,thentakesthebagofmarshmallowsthatI’vebeencradlingandputsthemonthemantel.“Youlooknothingalike.”
“IlooklikeMs.Pac-Manwithabowonmyhead.I’mlikethescaleversionofhim.”
“You’rereallynot.”
“Isthatacomplimentoraninsult?Mybrotherisbeautiful,asyouknow.”
Heshakeshisheadinamusementbutstillsaysnothing.I’vebeenfishingonthissamepierformanyyears.Hestepscloser,andfeather-soft,hereachesdownandnudgesthemarkonmyarm.
“Thisisnotokay.AndI’ll…”Hebitesdownontherestofthatsentenceandthetendonsofhisjawflex.Thehandsbyhissidescurlandsqueeze.Iknowwhathe’lldo.Hedoesn’thavetosayit.Ifeelit.
I’vejustdecidedtoreachuptouncurlhisfingerswhenhedecidestoretreatentirelytotheonlyplaceIcannotfollow.
“I’mgoingtotakeashower,”hesays,goingoutsidebeforereappearingwithahugesuitcase.
“What’sthat?Areyouflyinginternationallysomewhere?”
“Ha,ha,”herepliesdryly.He’snotaneasyflier.Theimageofhimcrammedintoatinyplaneseat,nervouslyclutchingthearmrests,isweird.Andcute.Andmakesmesad.Winekindofdoesthattoaperson.TheCurealsoassists.
Iliebackandcrossmylegsattheknees.“Now,thatshowerhasgottenabittemperamental.ShouldIcomeinandshowyou?”Ikeepmytonestraightforward,butIcanseearose-goldblushonhischeekbonesasheunzipshisbag.
“No,thanks.”Hepullsoutsomepajamasandablackzippedbag.
“Ohwait.”Igettomyfeetandrundownthehallway,Pattyatmyheels.“I’dbettercheck…”
“Darce,relax,”hesaysbehindmeasIscoopuppuddlesofunderwearfromthefloor.“Wepracticallysharedabathroomwhenweweregrowingup.”Anditgoesunsaidbutheliveswithawoman.He’sseeneverything.
Theroomshrinksbyhalf.Idon’tleave.
“You’llhavetogooutnow.”HishandcupsthehemoftheT-shirt.Thenhegripsit.Everythingtwiststighter.There’saninchofstomach,andit’stannedlikecaramelfudge.Ipleadwithmyself.Eyesup,DB.
Hisknucklesstartgoingwhite.“Goon.Out.”
Idon’tknowifhe’stalkingtomeorPatty.IprayforSt.Megantogivemestrength.Heherdsmeout.“Towelsintheusualspot?”
“Yeah,”Isay,hatingthefactthathe’saudiblyturnedthelock.Howembarrassing.Howprudent.“I’msorryI’mweirdtoyou.”
“That’sokay.”Ontheothersideofthedoor,Tomisgettingnaked.Comeon,MaisondeDestin.Collapseyourwalls.“Youforget,I’veknownyoualongtime.”
“AndI’vebeenweirdtoyoutheentiretime.”
“Yeah.”There’sabangingnoise,thenablast,andheyelps.“Thesepipes.”Icanheartheshowercurtainflutter.IslidedownthewallandPattylookslikeshehasatwinsister.I’llkeeponewhenheleaves.
“Whatafuckingluckydrain.”ThewinehasknockedmylegsoutandmaybeIshouldbeworried.Ididn’thavemuch.AmIdying?Myheartfeelssteady,tickingawayvaliantly.Ilookatthetwolittlefacesnexttome.“Patties,thatshowerdoesn’tknowhowgoodlifeisrightnow.”
Let’sreviewhowthisnighthasturnedout.
TomValeskaisputtinghisflawlessfaceunderthesprayofmyshower,sudsslidingdown,rinsinghisgoldskin.Musclesdripping.Ihaveseenhimclimboutofpoolsroughlytenbilliontimesbynow,soIthinkIknowwhathelookslike.Almost.
Ipullupthebottomofmytopandblotthesheenfrommyfaceandneck.
He’sgotlegsfordaysandabeefybutt.Straddle-worthyhips.Thoseshoulders?Streamingwithwaternow.Theshower’soff,andnowoneofLoretta’stowelsisprobablyaroundhiswaist.Thosetowelsbarelywraparoundme.
Iamhavingmentalimagesthatneedtobetapedshutinsidethatboxofdildos,likeit’sacursedsarcophagus.
Idon’tthinkthiscanbehappening.I’vefallenasleeponthecouchandamhavingadelirious,dehydratedsexdream.Butifthiswereadream,thedoorwouldbeajar,steamcurlingouttome.Ifheaskedmetocomeinrightnow,Iwouldpullthepinsoutofthehingeswithmyteeth,spittingthemonthefloor.
Icansaythiswithabsolutecertainty:Nomanhasevermademewanttolickafoggybathroomtilebefore.“Megan,Megan,”Iwhispertomyself,icy-whitediamondsbehindmyeyelidsasIdragmyselftomyfeet.
Inmyroom,IscrubmyeyeswithmakeupwipesandchangeintoleggingsandanoldbandT-shirt.I’llletmyteethdecaytonight.WhenTomappearsinthedoorway,wearinganothertightT-shirtandsweatpants,I’mstartingtodoubtrealityagain.
“You’reforgettingsomething.”Hepointsathumbnextdoor.“Thatroom.”Hisjawtensesandheswallowsayawn.Myhospitalityleavesalottobedesired.“Wheredoyouwantme?”
“Inmybed.Notwithme!I’monthecouchtonight.”Ieyemybedsidedrawer.“Wait,letmeburntheroomdownrealquick.”
Helaughslikehe’sgotmynumber.“I’lltakethecouch.”
“Youcan’tfitonit.Here.”Ipulltheblanketsback,takehimbythewrists,andtosshimdown.It’sweirdlyeasy.Shouldn’thebedifficulttomanhandleandthrowdown?MaybeI’msuperstrong.Maybehe’slightasafeather.
Or,mostrealistically,he’sexhausted.Butstill,hegivesmealookthatmakesmyinnerthighsquiver.Andwhenhepullsupthecomforter,it’slowonhiships.HelookslikeabeautifulbigViking,evenundercandystripes.
“Ishouldn’t.”Heleansbackagainsttheheadboardandcontemplatesmynightstandwithsidewayseyes.Idon’tfeeltooworried.Thishereisacast-ironmoralcompass.Mine,ontheotherhand?Notsomuch.Ineedtogetoutofthisroom.Outofthiscountry.
“JamiewouldkillmeifIletyousleeponthecouchorthefloor.Considermethehostesswiththemostess.”
Isoundincrediblydrunk.Howstrange;I’mstartingtofeelverysoberindeed.Idigaroundinthebigwoodenchestatthefootofthebed,searchingforaquilt.Ihearanuneasymattresssqueak.Thesoundseemstocomefromhissoul.
Itskathim.“What?Sleepinginmybedisn’tcheatingonMegan.Andthey’refreshsheets,beforeyourmindgoesthere.”Inmyperipheralvision,heregardstheemptyspacewhereVincentwouldgowithslack-jawedhorror.
IavoidlookinginhisdirectionasIsnatchupapillow.Idon’thavetolooktoknowthatTomfitsmyking-sizedbedlikeadream.Oneofthosedreamsyoudefileyourselfafter.
“Okay,goodnight.”Iretreatbackwarddownthehall,knockingmyelbowsoneverything,andfallontothecouch.
Icocoonmyself,knowingit’llbeicyinthisroombymorning,andthenIdecidetosetmyselfanimpossiblelittletarget.
It’snothingtooaspirational.Itdoesn’tinvolvemyfindingthecouragetoloosenmyfingernailsfromtheedgeofthiscouchandwalkbackdownthehall.Skin-on-skin-on-sweatphysicalcontactisn’tintherealmofpossibility.
Notnow,notever,notTom.
Ithoughtthathavingjust1percentofTomValeska’sheartfeelslikehittingthejackpot,butIthinkIwaswrong.It’snownotenough.
I’mgoingtomakehim2percentmine.Chapter6
Ididn’tsleepmuchlastnight,becauseIkeptthinkingaboutthattimealongtimeagowhenTomtoldmeexactlyhowhefelt,andIdidn’tunderstand.ThattimewhenIwaspossiblyat100percentanddidn’tknowit.
Iwaseighteen,puttingblackplatformsonovermyfishnetstogohangoutwithabadcrowd,andTomhadleanedonmydoorframeandaskedmenottogoout.Ithadbeennosecretthathedidn’tapproveofalltheblack-cladguysandhowIstayedoutallnight.IthoughtitwastypicalValeska-in-the-snowdriftsstuff.Tug,tug,awayfromdanger.
Inmycarelessway,I’dsnappedathim.Whynot?Whyshouldn’tIgo?
Tomtoldmeinasteady,reasonablevoice:BecauseIloveyou.AndI’drepliedwithoutthoughtorgravitas,Iknow,becauseI’dalwaysfeltit.HowcouldInot?Howmanytimeshadhesavedme?I’dhavetohavebeenamorontonotknowit.TothisdayIknowhelovesme,inthatold,stitched-into-my-familyway.
Turnsout,Iknowwasn’ttherightreply.
He’drustedoverwithembarrassmentandleft.Hewouldn’tturnaroundashewalkeddownthefrontstairs,throughourfrontgate.Hewouldn’tstopevenasIchasedhimacrossthestreetandheshutthedoorinmyface.
ThatwastheveryfirsttimeItoreupaonce-in-a-lifetimeoffer.
IbailedonmyfriendsandIwenttoLoretta’shouseinstead.WhenItoldherwhathadhappened,shesaid,Isawthatcoming.WhatelsewouldIexpectfromafortune-teller?Sheshookherhead.That’snotwhatshemeant.
Thatboywouldtakeabulletforyou
Wesatoutsideandsharedajoint,anditwasathrill.Don’ttellyourfather!How’dIbirthsuchaprude?Itgrowsintheearth,forGod’ssake.Shetoldmeaboutherfirsthusband,waybeforeshemetGrandpa.Ineverknewshehadbeenmarriedtwice,soIwasgobsmacked.
Iwasjustakid,shemused,eyesnarrowedonherinhale.MaybeifI’dmethimtenyearslater…itwasaterriblemistake.Ihurthimbadly,becauseIwastooyoungandimmaturetolovehimright.Istillregretit.Letyourselfgrowupandliveyourlife.You’reawildone,justlikeme.
I’dlaughedandsaidtherewasnoriskofmegettingmarried.ThiswasjustmeandTomkissing,ifitdidn’tfeelweird.
Lorettahadn’tbeenremotelyamusedHelovesyoumorethanthat.Icanseeyoudon’ttakethisseriously.
Likeitwasanemergency,sheboughtmemyfirstplaneticketandgavemesomecash.Afewdayslater,underthecoverofdarkness,shedrovemetotheairport.Itwasatransformativemoment.Iwassuddenlycompletelyresponsibleformyselfandnotpartofasetoftwins.ItwaslikealltheturmoilI’dcausedwasreleasedoutofapressurevalve,andIknewitwastherightthingtodo.
Lorettahandledthefalloutfrommyparentsandbrother,andIthrewmyfirstcoinintotheTreviFountaininRome,completelyaddictedtothisnewrecklessanonymity.Nobodysawagirlwithaheartconditionandamoreelectricbrother.Theysawmeforthefirsttime,andevenbetter,IcouldwalkawayfromanythingIdidn’tlike.
Mywish,whenIthrewthatcoinintothefountain?ThatTomwasn’ttoobruisedbymycarelessness.
Idriftoffnow,onthecouchwiththequiltovermyface,imaginingmyselfwalkingdownthecarpetedjetbridgefromthegateintoanairplane.That’smyfavoritepart:walkingoutofreallifesothateveryoneIlovecanexhale.
ExceptthatfirsttimeIdidit,Iwalkedoutalittletoolong.WhenIreturned,readytolookintoTom’seyesandbeguidedbywhatIfelt,Iwaspulledupshortbythesleek,composedgirlathissidewhowouldonedaywearhisbeautifulring.
Andhere’stherealkicker:Jamieintroducedthem.
“ALIVE?”THERE’SAvoiceaboveme.Iwakewithasnort,flipthequiltaway,andopenmyeyes.“Ouch.”Tomhassympathyinhisvoice,soImustlookprettybad.Heputsatakeoutcuponthecoffeetable.Next,atakeoutbox.
Iattempttospeakwithmydeadmouth.“HaveImentionedthatyouaretheworld’sbestperson?”
“Afewtimes.Waffles.That’sstillright,isn’tit?”Justlikehischeese-lettucelunch,myhangoverfoodhasn’tchanged.Inodandpullmyselfupontomyelbows.I’mgladhedoesn’tknowaboutmytripdownmemorylane.
“Whattimeisit?”ThecoffeeisthemostperfecttemperatureandsweetnessandIdrinkitinaseriesofgulps.I’mahummingbird.“OhmyGod.”Itipthelastdropsintomymouth.Ilicktheinnerrim.“Howwasthatsogood?”
Doeseverythingtastethisgoodwhendeliveredbyhishands?Megan,youluckybitch.Hecouldmakeacoldtoastcrustsucculent,Iswear.Hetakesthelidoffhisowncoffee,poursinabunchofsugarsachets,andgivesittome.Suchcharity.Suchgoodness.
AndItoreitup.Itoreitallup.
“Don’tcry,they’rejustwaffles,”hesays,smiling.“It’sheadingtowardlunchtime.I’vegotstufftoshowyoubeforewecallJamie.”Hisphonebeginsringing.“Speakofthedevil.”
Itaketheringingphoneandhitspeakerphone.Evenwithtearsinmyeyesandaregret-thickenedthroat,Icanstillsay:“Hello,you’vereachedthemicro-peniscounselingservice.”
There’ssilenceontheotherend,thenadeepsighthatI’dknowanywhere.IhearditbeforeIwasborn,probably.Tomgrins,teethwhite,andit’sprobablyabetterfeelingthanastadiumofpeoplelaughing.He’s2percentmine.It’sofficial.
Jamiespeaks.“Hilarious.She’sjusthilarious.”
“Ithoughtso,”Tomreplies.
Istayincharacter.“Howsmallisyourpenis,sir?”
“Don’tencourageher,”JamieordersasTombreaksandbeginslaughing.“Darcy,where’syourphone?”
“Women’sbathroomatSully’s.Secondstallfromtheend.”
“Well,getanewone,dimwit.”
“I’vegotanoldoneinmycaryoucanhave.”Tom’sallaboutsolutions,especiallywhenhisbossJamieiswithinearshot.
“No,IthinkIlikethingsbetterthisway,”Itellhim.Coffee,waffles,Tom,Pattyleaningagainstmyshin,andmybrotheriscallingmedimwitagain?Tom’sfixedeverything.
Jamiesays,“So,letmeguess.She’ssohungovershe’saghost.”
“Ah,well…,”Tomsays,becausehedoesn’thavealiemode.
I’vegotliemodeonautopilot.“I’vejustgottenbackfromawalk.”
Mybrotherjustlaughsinresponse,foralittletoolong.“Sure.AreyougoingtostayoutofTom’swaywhilehegetsstartedonthehouse?”
“I’msureI’llbegonebeforeheevenopenshistoolbox,don’tworry.”
“That’dberight,”Jamiesays,sarcasmdripping.“Skipoutbeforeanythinghard.PoorTom’sgoingtohavetodoeverythinghimself.”
“PoorTomisheretodoajobandgetpaid,”TomremindsJamie.
Iopentheboxlidandtherearetwoperfectwaffles.“Hey,Ihavetopackthehouse.That’splentyhard.”Idrowntheminsyrupandbeginbreakingthemapartwithmyhands.IfeedPattyatinypieceandmyselfahugepiece.
“You’llflirtTomintodoingit.”
“Iwillnot,”Isnap,mouthfull,lickingmyfingers.Aboveme,Tom’sfaceispartwaybetweenpainedandamused
“Youwill.You’regoingtobeworsethanevernow.”Jamiescoffs.“Nodoubtyoursympathywascompletelyunconvincing.”
“I’llbeworsewhy?Whatdoeshemean?”IlookupatTom.Heshrugsandinterruptsourpettyflow.
“We’vegotalottodobetweennowandnextMondaywhenthecrewarrives.Darceneedstopack,andIwantyoubothtoagreeonthestylewe’redoing.”
“Modern,”JamiesaysattheexactsamemomentasIsay,“Vintage.”
Tomgroansandplopsdownheavilyontheendofthecouch.Imovemylegsjustintime.Hepincheshishandacrosshiseyes.“Goodbye,cruelworld.”
“It’sgoingtobefine,”Iassurehimthroughmybiteofwaffle.“Don’tyouworry.”Itearoffachunkandfeeditintohismouth.
“Easyforyoutosay,”Jamiesays.“You’regoingtobewalkingaroundinarandomcountrylickinganice-creamconewhileTomandIdoallthehardwork.What’snextonyourpersonalreinventionjourney,bytheway?You’vedonethepiercingandthetoughhaircut.It’sgottabeatattoonext.”
Istepoverthat,becauseTom’slookingforthepiercing.Nose?Ear?Eyebrow?Nope.Nowhe’savertinghiseyes,andhismindisrunningthroughtheremainingpossibilities.
Igivethephoneaglare.“SoyourhardworkwillconsistofsittingonyourassinyourofficeandoccasionallyansweringTom’scallsandemails?You’llpickoutafaucetorsometilesonline?That’shardwork?”
“It’smorethanyou’lldo,”Jamiehissesback.Somethinginsidemelightsup;Iwanttoretort,likeoldtimes,Challengeaccepted!Butmyhungoverbrainscratchesaroundandcomesupempty.CouldIpackthehousesuper-fast?
“ItgoeswithoutsayingthatI’mdoingthehardwork,andyou’repayingmetodoit,”Tominterjects,everthecalmreferee.“Doesfivepercentofthesalepriceworkforyou,Darce?”
“Mathisn’therstrongpoint,”Jamiesayscruelly,atthesametimeasIsay,“Sure.”
“Youdon’tevenknowhowmuchthatwillbe,”Tomprompts,unwillinglyagreeingwithJamie.“Doyouknowwhatthecurrentmarketisinthisarea?”
Heholdsthephoneawayalittleandlowershisvoice.“Makesureyouknowwhatyou’resayingyesto.Thisisyourinheritance,Darce.I’vegotcontractsthatyoubothneedtosign.Eventhoughwe’reallfriends,everythingisgoingtobedoneright.You’rebothclientsassoonasyousign.”
“Businessisbusiness,”Jamie’svoicesaysfaintlyfromthephone.“Itaughtyouwell.”
I’dhavesaidyestoten.Twenty.Fivepercentofhisheart.Anything.
“What’sthebigdeal?Itrustyou.I’msureit’sfair.Aslongasthehouseisrestored,that’sallIcareabout.”
“You’vegottostartcaringaboutmoneymore.”Tomdoesn’tlooklikehe’sgladthatI’vegotblindfaithinhim.Helookslikehe’sfeelingsick.
“Hearthat,Tom?You’retheonlypersononearthDarcyBarretttrusts!”Jamiesays,alittletooexaggerated,alotjealous.Inarrowmyeyesatthephone.
“He’stheperfectman,”Isay,justtojabatJamie.
“You’vegottostopsayingthingslikethat,”Tomsaysinapainedway.Tohimself,hesays,“Nopressure.”
“You’vebeentellingherthetruthabouteverything,haveyou?”Jamiesays,andthere’salongsilence.Endless.ThecottonthreadsonTom’sbodysqueak.“Ah,Isee,”Jamiesays,speculationinhistone.“Yes,IthinkIknowwhyyou’replayingitthisway.Smart.”
Forthefirsttime,Ifeelasliverofdoubt.Tomwon’tlookatmenow.“Whatthehellareyoutwocookingup?”
“Nothing,”Tomtellsmewithaheavysigh.“Allright,thisisgoingnowhere.I’vegotaguycomingtolookatthefoundation.IreallyneedyoutwotoagreeonthestylebeforeWednesday.I’vegottoorderstuff.”
“Justmakeitlookexactlythesame,butnew.”Inod.Caseclosed.
“Makeitlooklikemyapartment,”Jamieordershim.“Justdealwithheruntilsheleavesanddoyourstandardmodernrenovation.Likethatplaceyoudidlastyear,withthefancygrayfeaturewall.Dowhatsells.”
“Grayfeaturewall?Lorettaislaughinguntilshe’scryingrightnow.”Ilookaroundatthebeautifulwallpaper.IthoughtIcouldtrustTomtotakecareofthisplace.“Youknowthatanoldcottagelikethiswouldlookridiculousdonemodern.”
“We’llneedtohaveaweeklybudgetmeeting,”Tomsays,persevering,“andanychangesoncewe’vesetthebaselinewillhavetobeagreedonbybothofyou.I’mhavingthisjobcomeinearlyandunderbudget.”
“Iknowyouwill,”Jamiesays,hisvoicenothingbutconfidence.I’veneverheardhimsoundlikethat.“I’mgoingtoameeting.Tom,makeitmodern.”Jamiehangsup.Tomtossesthephoneontothecoffeetableandleansback.Undertheblanket,myfeetarepinnedbyhisthigh.
“Modernvintage,”Tomsaystohimself.“BarrettversusBarrett.I’mnotsurehowI’mgoingtopullthisoneoff.YouknowIcan’tmakeyoubothhappy,right?”
“Youjusthavetodecidewhoyouwanttomakemorehappy.Hint:It’sme.”Ismileathim.Asdoubtpincheshisfeatures,Ismilewider,cuter,anose-wrinkle,puttingeverybitofspoiledbabysisterthatIcanintoit.
“Idolikemakingyouhappy,”headmitsgrudgingly,andI’mbumpedup.Threepercent.Ifeellikeastore’smillionthshopper.
“WhywasJamiehintingaboutasecret?Youcantellme,youknow.”
Hetakestheemptytakeoutcontainerfromme,andIswipethesyrupcontaineranddrinktherest.Judgingfromhisexpression,thatwasgross.
“You’regoingtogetdiabetes,”hesaysfaintly.“Orrotyourperfectteethrightoutofyourhead.”
Perfect?“Worthit.”
“Therearenosecretswhenitcomestothisrenovation.I’llbeupfrontwithyouboth.”
Hiseyescatchonmymouth.Ilickandeverything’ssweet.Everything’sheavy.He’sstillsittingonmyfootandIdidn’tknowthatwasafetish,buthey,whatdidIknowtwominutesago?Isitupwithanab-muscletrembleanditwasamistake,becausenowwe’recloser.
“Doyoustillliveon-sitewhenyourenovate?”
“Yeah,I’vegotmycampinggear.”Onesecondisup,andhe’spassinghispalmsoverhiskneeslikehe’swipingawaysweat.“DidJamiesayyoupiercedyourselfsomewhere?”
“Yep.Andithurtlikeabitch.”
Hewon’taskmewhereitis.Herefusesto.“Thoughtyou’vehadenoughneedlesinyourlife.”
“Ineededonemore.”Iwassocavalieraboutit,imaginingmynextheartreviewandhowtoughit’dlook.IthurtlikemyentirebodyandsoulhadbeenpiercedandIlovedit,becauseinthatall-consumingagony,Icouldn’tthinkaboutdiamondringsandmybrother’sfury.
Plus,itlookshot.Silverandpinkisonehellofacombination.
He’sthinkingaboutwhereitcouldpossiblybe,Ijustknowit.TimetogetMeganbackintheroomwithus.
“WhatdoesMeganthinkofyoubeingawayfromhomesomuch?Shehatesit,”Iconcludewithoutpause.
“Shedoesn’tcare,”Tomsayswithnobitterness.“She’susedtoit.”
“Ifyouweremine,”Isay,andthewordsseemtorundownhisspinebecausehesitsupstraight,“Iwouldn’tlikeit.YouknowwhatI’mlike,though.”
“Whatareyoulike?Ihavenoidea,”headdswhenIcasthimacomeonlook.
“Withmostguys?Icouldn’tcarelessiftheylivedordied.You,though…”IlookatthetwoemptycoffeecupsandfeeltheweightofhisgoodnessandIwanttotellhimthetruthinreturn.
Thethoughtofhowamillionpeoplemustabusehiskindness—myselfincluded—makesmecrazy.
Iwanttowalktwostepsinfrontofhim,whereverhegoes,bulldozingtheworldalittleflatterforhim.Ifheweresleepingonabuildingsite,andheweremine,I’dbeinthattent,too.Allnight,everynight,asthewindwhistledandtherainbeatdown.I’dneverletanotherwomansitascloseasIamrightnow.Meganseriouslyletsthiswalkaroundonearth,completelyunattended?
IfIwereMegan,Iwouldfuckmeupforsittingcloseenoughtosmellthescentonhisskin.Hesmellslikebirthday-candlewishes.I’veneverinmylifefeltevenapassingpossessivenessforanotherman,butTomValeska?It’ssomethingIhavetokeeplasheddowninsideme,hardandtight,becauseIhavenorighttoit.
Maybehe’snottheonlywolfysleddogaroundtheseparts.
Someofthisisinmyeyesbecauseheblinksandswallows.He’stryingtoignoretheundercurrentbetweenus.It’sbecausehe’sagoodguy.Mybraindoesn’twanthimtobeanydifferent.Butmybodywantshimtopickmeupandputmeagainstthewall.Windowsill.Floor.Bed.
Ihavetosalvagethissituation.
“Oh,comeon.YouknowwhatI’mlikebetterthananyone.Now,areyougoingtotellmethissecret?”
“Itwouldn’tbeagoodidea,trustme,”hesayscarefully,buthispupilsgivehimaway.They’reblackdruggedeyes,andIknowhewantstotellme.Whyelsewouldheleavealittlegapformetosqueezethrough?Hedidn’tjustsayno.
It’sonthetipofhistongue.Ineedtobiteitoff.IwonderifIcanmakemyselfpersuasive.“Isitaboutthehouse?”
Heshakeshisheadlikehe’shypnotized.Hisbrowneyes?They’remyfavorite.Inthismorninglight,they’reatreasuretrove.Gold,sands,tombs,coins,riches.Egyptianpyramids,eternallife.Gildedsarcophagi.Cleopatra’sdinnerware.
“IsitaboutJamie?”Heshakeshisheadnoagain.IputeverythingIhaveintoit.“Youcantellme.”
Heseemstogivehimselfalittlementalslap,andhisbrowcreasesdownward.“Youcanstopitnow.”
“Stopwhat?”
“WhatJamiesaid.Stoptryingtoflirtthingsoutofme.”He’sdisgusted.“YoureallyshouldgetintoLoretta’slineofwork.”
IfIcanoccasionallyhypnotizehim,Jamiecanmakehimwalkoverhotcoals.Thishouseisasittingduckinthehandsofmytyrannicalgeneticcopyandsomeonewhohasneverhadanycreativelicenseinhisentirecareer.
“Andyoushouldstophidingsomethingfromme.I’mgoingtoworkonthehouse.”
AsIsayitoutloud,somethingclicksdownintopositioninsideme.
It’stheperfectretortIshouldhavesaidtoJamie.Theusualfeelingofchickenshitguiltdissipateslikesqueezingazit.I’mgoingtoworkonfulfillingLoretta’swishforthisplaceandprotectitfromanyonewhocan’tappreciateMaisondeDestin’sinherentmagic.
“Ifeellikeifthere’sanychancetogetbackintoJamie’sgoodgraces,it’sgoingtotakeblood,sweat,andtears.I’mgoingtoredeemmyself.”
“Nottoomuchofyourblood,ortears.Orsweat,”Tomsays,thinking.“JustbearoundwhenIneedtocallJamietogetaquickdecisionmade.CanyoumoveoutandstaywithTruly?”
“Noway.I’mworkingandI’mstayinghereinatent,justlikeyou.I’monyourcrew.”
Hegrinsatthethought,butitfadesoff.“Sorry,no.”
“Anyparticularreason?Don’tyouneedfreelabor?”
“Ican’tfocuswhenyou’rearound,”hesayswithcompletehonesty,andalittlestarburstthrillpopsinsidemystomach.HiseyecontactisuncomplicatedsoIdon’tthinkthere’sanythingmoretothestatement.“Butit’syourhouse,soIcan’tstopyou.Youcouldhelpontheoccasionalsmallproject.Maybepaintingthenewfrontfence.”
“No.I’mnotdoingthegirlystuff.I’musingtools.”
“Noheavylifting,nomanuallabor,noladders,noelectrical—”Tomstopshimself.He’simaginingmewithmyfingerinasocket,Ibet.He’sgotabigbrowcrease.“Idon’tthinkmyinsurancewouldcoverthis.You’realiability.”
Mymouthdropsopen,thevoidopensuplikeacanyoninsidemychest,andeverything’swhooshing.Aliability.
“Ididn’tmeanitlikethat.”Heisobviouslyhorrifiedatwhathejustsaid.“Darce,thatcameoutcompletelywrong.”
“Fine,it’sfine.It’strue.Dowhateveryouwanttothecottage.LikeIcare.It’sbeingsoldtosomerichJamieclone,anyway.Whatdoesitmatter?”It’samiracleIcanstillspeak.Istruggleupandnearlytripoverthecoffeetable.
“Youdocare,”heprotests,hotonmyheelsasImakeabeelineforthebathroom.Islipin,shutthedoor,andlockit.“Youcaresomuchit’scrazy.I’mnotgoingtodoajobthatyou’regoingtobeunhappywith.”
“Idon’tcare.I’mgoingtobeabouttenmillionmilesawaybythetimeyoucrackopenacanofpaint.JustdowhateverJamiewants,liabilityfree.”Timetogetthesefeelingstogetherlikeloosesheetsofpaper.Tapthemintoastack.Stickthemintoashredder.
“I’msosorry.”
TimetoleavebeforeIdosomethingIcan’tundo.
“Openup,please,”Tomsays,knockingagain.Doeshehavenoself-preservation?“Ireallydidn’tmeanithowitsounded.Ofcourseyouaren’taliability.”
“Youneverlie.”
“Idolie.Everyday.”
Ilookatmyselfintheoldspeckledmirror.Ilookterrible.Undereacheyeisapurplemark.Eachcheekhasavaudevillespotofcolor.I’vestudiedMeganateveryChristmaspartyI’vebeenhomefor.I’mtellingyou,sheisporeless.
“Goaway,”IsaybecauseIcanfeelhe’sstillthere.Hecan’tfollowmehere.Ipullmyclothesoffandlookdownatmyweirdbody,withitstoo-bigjointsandwaffle-bellyfatness.Thepiercingonmynipplenowlookslikeit’spartofacostume.
“Icouldunscrewthehinges,”hesaysinafriendlyvoice.Ithinkofmyselflastnight,lyingontheflooroutsidelikeahound.
“Ifyoudothatyou’llbescarredforlife.I’mtakingashower.”
“Don’tgobackintoyourshell.It’sokaythatyoucareaboutthishouse.AndIwanttohearhowyoupicturethefinishedproduct.”Throughthedoor,hesaysinanewtone,“DB,pleasegetdressedsoIcanhugyouandtellyouI’msorry.”
“Youheardyourboss.Makeitmodern.”Myvoicesoundsevenharderwhenitbouncesoffthetiles.Icranktheshoweranditspitsandsteams.ThenIstandinthewaterandwhenIcry,thetearswashaway.Theperfectcrime.
I’mstandingintheexactsameplacethatTomValeskastoodnaked.
I’mnotgoingtothinkaboutthingslikethatanymore.Chapter7
Anelectricianarrivesafterlunch,walksin,andflipstheswitchbesidethefrontdoor.There’sapopsound,thelightsblink,andtheelectriciancurses,snatchinghishandback.Thehouseisavipertoday.Itwantstohurtsomebody.
Thismugsays#1ASSHOLEontheside.ItwouldbetheperfectbirthdaygiftforJamie.Ifwe’reonspeakingtermsbythen.
Iclickthecamera,turnthemugslightlyonthelittlewhiteturntable,takeanothershot,andthenrecordathree-hundred-sixty-degreerotation.ThenItransferthedigitalfilesandlabelthemwithserialnumbers.Itickthechecklist.IfIlosetrackofwhichmugiswhichIwilllosemymind.It’sslow,boring,meticulouswork.
IfIthinkaboutthefactthatIwontheRosburghPortraitPrizewhenIwastwenty,Igetashakeinmyhandandhavetoredotheset.WhydidTomhavetoremindmeofthat?I’dnearlyleftthememoryunderJamie’sbed,alongwiththecanvasprint.
“Numberoneasshole.MaybeIneedthisone,”ItellPatty,whoisasleeponacushion.“I’mprettysureit’smymug.”
IpickitupandspyoutthewindowatTom,whoiscurrentlylookingprofessionalandcompetent,allslidintohisclothesintherightway,pointingupattherooflinewithasaggytradesmannoddingbyhisside.
Ihavelostmygoddamnmindinashortperiodoftime.IfIhadmyphone,I’dlookatthephotoofMegan’sengagementringagaintorecalibratemyself.IclosemyeyesandIcanpictureit:cushioncutandcolderthanice.Likeshecouldpressabuttononthesideandawhitelightsaberwouldcomeout.
Iwouldn’twantsomethinglikethat.I’dwantsomethinglikeLoretta’sring:ablacksapphire.Ishouldclarify:IwantLoretta’sring,fullstop.ThefactsheleftittoJamieinherwillisinexplicabletome.SheknewIlovedit.Sheletmeborrowitforweeksatatimeandsaidtome,Oh,sweetness,doesn’titsuityou.Wasitherwayofpunishingmeforsomething?
Iofferedinthesolicitor’sparkinglottobuyitfromhim,whichwasatacticalerror.Hisgrayeyesshiftedintoblue.“No,”herepliedwithrelish
NowthatheknowshowbadlyIwantit,thatringisworthmorethantheMonaLisa.Luckilyforme,noonewouldbeinsaneenoughtomarryJamieeither.
It’ssunsetwhenIdecideIshouldgrowupandgetthingsbacktonormal.IfindTominthebackyardalone,writinginanotebook.Thetipofhistongueiscaughtbetweenhisteeth.
“Lookatyou,beingallmeticulous.”
“Suream.”Hetakesaphotoofthebackstairswithhisphone.I’veneverreallynoticedthembefore,buttheyarebeautifullyrustic.Iclompdownthem,feelingthembounce.
“I’msosorry—”hebeginswhatisprobablyarehearsedstatement.Iwavehimsilent.
“It’sfine.”Itakehisphoneandlookathislastshot.“Youcouldprobablywinanawardwiththatshot.Howannoying,Ishouldhavebeentheonetoseethat.Isthereanythingyoucan’tdo?”I’mnotreallyjoking.
“Plenty.Whydon’tyougetyourcameraanddoit?Ormaybeyoucouldstarttakingphotosofpeopleagain.”Thismightbetheclosesthe’sgoingtogettoaskingmetoshoothiswedding.Hehesitates,andIknowit’sabouttocome.TherequestthatIwon’tbeabletosaynoto.“Iftakingaphotoofme—”
Abigwaveofdon’tfuckingaskmealmostknocksmeover.Iinterrupthiminstantly.
“I’mtakingmorephotosthanever,andI’mnevergoingbacktopeopleagain.Mugsdon’tcomplain.Theydon’thavelittlementalbreakdownsandruintheirmascara.Theydon’twritereviewsonline.”
“Didsomeonedothat?”Googlingmewouldneveroccurtohim.
“Scathing”isallIcansay.Apparently,Iverymuchdeservethoseemptyscrewholesbythefrontdoor.
Unprofessional.Late.Hungover—possiblystilldrunk?Distracted.Poorlypresented.Surlyandrudetoguests.Blurry.Badlyframed.Ruinedmymemories.Contactingmylawyer.
Tomwiselytuckstheimpendingrequestbackinhispocket.Heshouldn’triskgettinghismemoriesruined,too.“MaybeifI’dgottenthestudiodone,you’dstillbedoingportraits.”
Heisnowlookingatthelong,narrowbuildingbeyondthefishpond,againstthefenceline,thathashadalotofplansattachedtoit.ItwasonceGrandpaWilliam’scarpentryhideout,anditstillsmellslikecypruspine.Lorettausedtositinthereonafoldingchair,drinkingcoffeeandthinkingabouthim.Itwasgoingtobemyphotographystudio,andbeforethat,Loretta’starotroom.Onesummer,TomgotasfarascladdingtheinsidewallsandputtingdowncarpetbeforeAldosenthimontohisnextjob—thenthenext,andthenext.AnunfinishedprojectwouldweighheavilyonTom.
“Don’tfeelbad,”Iwarnhim,butIthinkI’mtoolate.“You’vebeenbusy.Youarenotthecauseofmycareerchange.”Imean,technicallyyes,buthedoesn’tneedtoknowthat.Iwasalreadyonalongdownhillslide.
“Ifyou’dcalledme,Iwouldhavecome,”hesayswiththebaresthintofaccusation.“YouknowIwould.”
“Don’tworryaboutthat.You’rehererightwhenIneedyoumost.Likealways.”
Pattyisstandingontheedgeoftheslime-filledfishpond.Oneforeleglifts.Ipickherupandkissherlittledomehead.Fromthelaundrywindow,Diana’saghastfaceislikethefelineversionofTheScream
Itiltheruptome.“Patty,you’vegottastopflirtingwithdanger.”
“Saysthegirllivinginahousewithfire-hazardwiring.”Tomgivesmehisnotebookandbeginsunfoldingaladder.“Ican’tbelieveLorettalivedinthisplace.Whydidn’tshegetmetorenovateyearsago?”He’sgettingmad.“Sheshouldn’thavelivedwiththeseissues.”
Ihavetolaugh.
“Shecouldn’tbebotheredpacking.Shesaid,andIquote,Youcandealwithit.”Iflipthroughthelastfewpagesofhisnotes.Ialmostforgothishandwriting:squareblocks,flatlines,andintriguingshorthand.Arrowsupanddown,measurements,estimatesofcost.Pageafterpageofbadnews.“Andshethoughttheissueswerequirks.Whichtheyare.”
“Youaresosimilartoyourgrandmotherthatit’sscary.”Tomhookstheladderonthesideofthehouse.“Please,justpromisemeyouwon’ttouchanyoftheoutlets.Ortellmyfortune.”
“Iknowhowtomanagethishouse.I’velivedinthishousepart-timeformostofmylife,remember?Everysingleskiseason.”Myparentsareobsessedwithslidingdownsnowyhillsinmatchingpaddedonesies.Iwonderwhatit’slike.
“Didyouusedtohateme?”Hetookmyplaceonthoseskitrips.IstayedwithLoretta,tookphotosuntilIlostthelight,andreadbooksbythefire,myhandinacandybowl.Lovely,butitwasnoblack-diamondrun.
Ishakemyhead.“No,Iwasgladyouwent.”
I’mgladyouallgottolivealittle,unencumberedbymyshortcomings.
“GladformebecauseIwaspoor,”Tomsaysinawryvoice.Helooksuptheladderandputsafootonthebottomrung.“Gladthatyourparentsareincrediblygenerousandtookmeeverywhere.”
“No,gladforyoubecausestayingbehindsucked,andIwouldn’twishitonyou.”
IrememberLorettasayingtome,WavegoodbyeforGod’ssake,theymightallhaveaplanecrash.You’llregretitifyoudon’t.Thatkindofstatementisevenmorestartlingwhensaidbyafortune-teller.Smileandletthemenjoythemselves.
TheonlytranslationIcouldpossiblymakefromthatwas:Whocouldrelaxaroundme,thetickingtimebomb?
“I’mgladyouallgotavacationfromstressingoutaboutme.”
“Weweren’tvacationingfromyou,”Tomsays,surprised.Hebeginsclimbinguptheladder.“Lorettaletyoubelievesomethingsthatweren’ttrue.”
ForonesharpmomentIfeellikeheknowsthatIconfidedinLorettaandshegotmethehelloutoftown.Butthere’snowayhecould.I’venevertoldasoul.Hiseyesaremildandhavenobadmemoriesinthemwhenhelooksdownatme.
“Ifyouneedanythingswitchedonoroffinside,askme.Ihidyourhairdryer.”
“Thatjustmeansyouputitupsomewherehigh,outofmyeyeline?Yourhidingskillsareterrible.”Iwatchhisbuttasheclimbshigher.“Whatareyoudoingupthere,anyway?”
“Justlookingattheguttersbackhere.”
“Metoo.”Igrinbreezilyupathimasheglowersbackdownatme.“What?I’minterestedinthestateofmyhouse.”
There’salooserattlingnoise.Tomshakestheentiregutteraboutafootawayfromtheroofline.Slimyleavessplatterdownontome.PattyandIbothyaplikeseals.
“Youasshole.”
“Youdeservedthat,youdeviant.”Herattlesthegutteragain.
“Getyourmindoutofthegutter.”
“DoyouwanttoclimbupthisladderwhileIstanddowntherelookingatyourbutt?Seehowitfeels?”Bustedagain.Ifheregisterseverytimemyeyesareonhim,I’mdoomed.
“I’vegotnothingonyou,babe.”
“Yousuredidhideintheshoweralongtime.Didn’tknowthewaterheatercouldhandlethat.”Tom’shandgoestohisbackpocketandhepullsoutascrewdriver.
“Thatwaterheaterisatincan.Itwasfreezingbytheend.”Ijustletitgocold,numbingmedowntothebones,coolingthestrangerestlessenergyinsidemetomanageablelevels.I’veneveractuallytakenacoldshoweroveraguybefore.
Helooksacrossattheneighbor’sroof,andinhisprofile,Iseehimswallow.Inhismind,hethinks,Ew,gross.DarcyBarrett,ashiveringdrownedrat,boyhairflattenedtoherskull.
Hehoistshimselfalittlehigherontotheedgeoftheroof.There’satile-scrapingsoundandtheladdertrembles.Ileaponthebaseoftheladderandwrapmyentirebodyaroundit.“Fuck!Becareful.”Anotherwetleafplopsdownonmyface.
“It’sfine,”hesays,treadingdowntherungs.Hedoesn’tturn,butinsteadspendsalotoftimepullingtheladderdown,foldingandrefoldingit.I’mglad.Icanhidemysuddenheartjolt.
“IthoughtIwasgoingtohavetocatchyouthen.”Imovetothefishpond,mybacktohim.Myhearthasjumpedupintomythroat.Iswallowagainandagain,butitwon’tbudge.Bloodbeginsslidingthewrongwayinmyveins.
Myheartsays,Ohhey,didyoujusthavealittlefright?Cool,I’mgoingtomakeabigdealoutofit.Andnowwe’repumpin’.Palpitations,pixelation,it’sallcrankingintogear.
Quick,thinkaboutsomethingelse.
Asidefrommyheartsituation,aworsepatternkeepsrepeating.Iteasehimlikealways,hecallsmeonit,andIrememberMegan.Icrushmyselfdowninsidelikeanemptybeercan.ThenIlookathimandthatjoyfulfeelingexpands,andthecyclehappensagain.
Iknowwhatthesolutiontothisproblemis,anditinvolvesacabtotheairport.
“Ibetyouwouldcatchme.You’djust…”Heholdshisarmsuptothesky.“Getsquashedflat.Hey.”He’snoticedmystillness.“What’shappening?”
“Nothing,”Isayonaslowexhale.Myheartisclimbingupoutofmybody,flutteringandstrugglinginthebaseofmyneck.
Tom’shandsareonmybody.“Yourlittlespoolofthread,”hesayswithdeepempathy.“Aw,it’srattlingaroundinthere,isn’tit?”
“Stopit.Don’tfuss.”Itugawaybuthestepswithme.“ItwillstopifIcanjusttakemymindoffit.Yourhandsaremakingitworse.”
Hedropsthemlikehe’sbeenscalded.
Hesmellslikehealwayshas:ablown-outbirthdaycandle,sharpandsmoky.It’sthatsmellinyournostrilswhenclosingyoureyesandmakinganimpossiblewish,andyourmouthiswateringforsomethingsweet.
“Breathe,”hesays,encouragingmejustlikeJamiewould.WhenIgivemyselfoneglanceupathisbeautifulface,thestarklookinhiseyesremindsmeofwhyIstayedbehindattheairportasachild.Iamstress.Fear.Uncertainty.
Iamaliability.
Imakemyselffakeabigbreathout.“Don’tworry.It’snothingalittletimeonabeachsomewherecan’tfix.”
Heeasesawayandthechillingairfillsthespacebetweenus.Istepcompletelyoutofhisreachandthenputthefishpondbetweenus.IpatmychestlikeI’mburpingababy.IfIdoitfirmlyenough,Ican’tfeeltheindividualoff-kilterbeats.
Tomisalittlewretched.“I’msorryaboutwhatIsaidbefore.Youknowthat,right?You’renotaliability.Thisisyourhouse,andyouhaveeveryrighttoworkonit.”Heturnsbacktohisnotes,buthe’slookingatthemwithoutseeing.“ButIdon’tthinkyoushouldtravel.You’reclearlynotokay.”
“I’vebeenlikethisforyears.Don’t,”Iwarn,andhesighsheavily.
“So,myladderwobblesandyoucanthrowyourselfonitlikeit’sagrenade,butyouturnintoawaxstatueandI’msupposedto,what?Justignoreit?”Youknowhe’sgettingclosetotheendofhistetherwhenhishandisonhiship.“You’vegotasetofrulesthatIcan’tagreeto.”
“I’vehadalifetimeoffussing.”Iputmyhanduptogripmyplaitandmyhandfindsnothingbutair.It’sagoodreminder.I’manewpersonnow.“Justworryaboutthishouse.”
“I’mworriedaboutyou,”hesaysinacuttheshitvoice.“Tellmewhat’sreallygoingonwithyou.Ihaveneverseensomanyemptywinebottlesinmylife.”Hejerksathumbattherecyclingbinatthesideofthehouse.“Youarenotdoingwell.”
“Don’tstart,”Ibegin,buthesilencesme.
“You’redrinkingwhenIknowyoushouldn’t.Yourmedication’ssooldit’sexpired,didyourealizethat?You’reworkingsomewherewhereguysgrabyou.Bruiseyou.Drivepastallnight.”
“It’snotlikethat—”
“Yourfridgeisempty.You’renottakingrealphotos,”hesaysinatonelikeit’satragedy.“Andyou’retryingtokeepmeatarm’slength,asusual,bydoingthatthingyoudo.”
“WhatdoIdo?”
“Youknowexactlywhatyoudo.Youmessaroundwithme.”
“Well,whatisitlikebeingmessedwithbyme?”Ican’tstoplookingathowhisshort,neatfingernailsarepressingintothecottonathiship.I’msweatingnow.Ineedtopressmysleevetomybrow,buthe’llsee.
“BeingmessedwithbyDarcyBarrett?”Heconsidersthequestion.“Itsoundslikeshe’sjokingwithme,butitfeelslikeshe’stellingthetruth.AndIneverknowwhichisright.”
Whoa.Hereallyhasmynumber.“You’reasmartguy,you’llworkitout.”
Heputsahandintohishair.Thatbicep.Thoselines.He’sart.“See,you’redoingitagain.It’syourtechniquetoputmeofftrack,soyouwon’thavetoactuallyanswerme.”
Heturnsbacktothehouselikehe’slookingforitsmoralsupport.Pattyobliges,runningtohimandstandinguponhisshin.Helooksdownather.“I’mjustachewtoy,Patty.AuntDarcylikeshearingmesqueak.”
“IfIwereMegan,I’dpunchmeintheface.”Iballupmyfistandgivemyselfasoftuppercut.“I’mreallysorry.Idon’tknowwhatcomesoverme.Ifit’sanyconsolation,Idon’tdoittoanyoneelse.You’re…special.”
“Really?”Hiseyeshaveanewlightinthemwhenhelooksbackatme.ItgivesmeabadlittleflashbacktoKeith.Tom’sheartistheRockofGibraltar,butIshouldn’triskit.
“Youshouldn’tlikehearingthat,”Iremindhim.“Face-punching,remember?”
“Shewouldn’tcare.”It’sthesamephraseheusedbefore,whenIaskedabouthistent.He’stryingtotellmesomethingabouther,andIdon’tknowifIwanttohearit.She’sclearlyascoolasherice-whitediamond.She’ssecureinherself,andshehasthemosttrustworthymanalive.
Heconfirmsit.“We’renotlikethat.”
“Nojuryonearthwouldconvicther.”Iseemtobeusingmymessing-with-youvoice.SoundslikejokingbutI’mserious.“IfIbaggedandtaggedabeautylikeyou,I’dturnvicious.Ibetshe’sthesame.”
Helaughsandit’snotahappysound.“Iguessit’sredundanttopointoutthatyou’realreadyprettyvicious.”Apause,thenhesaysawkwardly,“She’snotlikeyouatall.”
“Thatmuchisobvious.”Irunahandupanddownmyinferiorfaceandbody,andhe’sconfused.“Well,Iwon’tpushmyluckwithher.LikeIsaid,I’mgoingtofindsomeonenewtotorment.You’reoffthehook.Pitymydoomedfuturehusband.”
IthinkaboutLoretta’sringagainandholdupmylefthandtostudymybarefingers.
Hesnortsindisbelief.“You’dnevergetmarried.”
“Iwould.”Ihidethelittlepapercuthisincreduloustonegivesme.“Whythehellwouldn’tI?AmItoomuchtotakeon?”Idragbothhandsthroughmyhairsoit’supandpointy.Ihopeit’shorns.
“Ijustneverpicturedit.”Hesighsandtheshapeofhisbodydroopsashelooksupatthehouse,likeaswitchhasbeenflippedoffinsidehim.Itakeafewcautiousstepstowardhim.He’ssad?
Ican’timaginewhatkindofbadnewshe’sheardtoday.“Whatdidtheelectricianandplumbersay?”
“Whatdoyouthinktheysaid?”He’sdesolate.“Theywouldbethemostexpensivejobsoftheircareers.It’satear-down.Mostofthepipesneedreplacing.Newwaterproofing.Thennewtiles.Thennewwiring.Neweverything.Icannotnameonethingsofarthatdoesn’tneedreplacing.”
“WillLoretta’sbudgetcoverit?”
Hestalls.Thatmeans,Probablynot.“I’mgoingtoputeverythingintoaspreadsheetforyouguys.”
“Unspeakablyexpensivethen.Soexpensivethatformulasandcellsareinvolved.Andit’llallbespentonchromeandgraypaint.Jamiewillgethisway.Youknowhewill.You’rehis.”
Tomgivesmeawrylook.“He’swayoutofmyleague.”
“Onehundredpercenthis.”Itaphispinkyfingernail.“Jamiewouldmaybeletmehavethatmuchofyou.”
Heshrugs.“He’snotherenow.Iherebygiftyouthis.”HeholdsouthisotherhandandIrealizehemeanshisotherpinkyfingernail.Inowhavetwo.I’mabsurdlypleased.
“I’lltreasurethemalways.”Wegoinsidetogether,collectingPattyalongtheway.
“WhatdoIgetinreturn?”
“Youknow,heart,soul.Theusual.”
“Oh,Darce.”HesighslikeI’velearnednothing.“You’remessingwithmeagain.”Chapter8
IinexplicablywishforJamie.He’dwalkinandfillthisexpandingawkwardsilencewithtalking,jokes,andinsults.IfeellikeI’mfast-trackingatotalimplosionofmyrelationshipwithTom.Whenithappens,I’llhavelostanotherperson.
Loretta,myparents,Jamie,Tom,Truly.HowmanymorespecialpeopledoIhaveleft?Iitchtowalkout.NoonecanleavemeifI’veleftfirst.Thisdisturbingthoughtknocksalittleairoutofmylungs.LorettadiedwhenIwassuspendedoveranoceaninanaisleseat.Maybemystrategysucks.
MaybeIshouldbeholdingontopeopleIlovewithwhite-knuckledintensity
Tomcheckshisphone.“Areyougoingtobeheretomorrowafternoon?Thepower’sgoingtobeoffforabit.”
“Notsure.”Iconsultthecalendaronthefridge.It’sbeenrefreshingtogoanalog.“I’mhelpingTrulydosomesewinglateintheafternoon.”
“Soyou’resewingtomorrow?Notlosingyourtemperandhightailingittotheairport?”Tomsoundssohopefulthatitputsalittlecrackinmyhardoldheart.
“AmIthatimpulsive?”
“YouarethemostimpulsivepersonIknow.”
Whatdidhesaybefore?Helikesmakingmehappy.Letmetryit.
“No,Istillcan’tfindmypassport.”Itdoesn’teasethattensioninhim.Itryagain.“I’llstayalittlelonger.”Itwastherightthingtosay.Ican’thandleitwhenhelooksatmelikethis.Rightnow,inthismoment,therestoftheworldfadesaway.We’resuspendedinagolden,fragilebubble.Pleasureisglowinginhiseyes,candle-bright.
HeclearshisthroatandnowI’mhisclientagain.“IreallythinkIneedyoutostayuntilwe’veallagreedonhowthisplaceshouldlook.”
Inod.“I’llstartpackingthehousetomorrowmorning.MaybeIcangetsomeoftheguysatworktohelpmovethefurniture.”
NowI’vealteredtheionsintheair.Helooksatmybruisedwristandsaysinabasssnarl,“Areyoukiddingme?”
“Mostofthemarefine.”
“Wouldyoudigagraveforme?”Herepeatsmyearlierjokewithouthumor.
“YouknowIwould.”Igointomybedroomandtapafewofmychalkypillsontomypalm.Theyhaveindeedexpired.I’msureit’sbetterthannothing.“I’lldigitrealslowsoIdon’taggravatemycrappyoldheart.”
Behindme,Tomisstillvibrating.“I’mmovingthefurniture.”
“Well,youclearlyfeelverypassionateaboutit,sogoahead.”
He’sinthedoorwaynow,leaningonthedoorframe,watchingmesortthroughmywardrobe.“Whereareyougoing?”
“Uptheladder.I’mgoingtogositontheroofforabit.”Ipullashortdressoutandshakethewrinklesoutofit.Mylittlesmart-assquiphashimrelaxingalittle.
“It’llbecoldupthere.”
“Ofcoursethat’syourfirstthought.”Icirclemyfinger.
Hetwirlsontheballofhisfoottofaceaway.Heknowsthisdrillbynow.“Youwereneververygoodatclosingyourbedroomdoor,”hesays,voiceheavywithresignation.“Who’sthisguy,then?”
“Whatguy?”Iquicklypullthedresson,tugonmyboots,andtreatmyselftoafewdotsoftheperfumeoilLorettamademe.Shedidn’tuserecipes,soit’sirreplaceable.Alabelonthebaseofthebottle,inherhandwriting,reads:LIQUIDDYNAMITE
“Who’stheguyyou’reputtingperfumeonfor?”Herotatestofacemeagain.Hehasn’tfullyshape-shiftedbackintohumanformyet.
“I’mputtingitonformyself,notwastingitonmalenostrils.He’snoone,”IsaymoreforcefullywhenIseethefrustrationonhisface.
“I’mtryingtomakeconversationwithyou,aboutwhat’sgoingoninyourlife.Whoareyoudating?”Hesoundslikehe’sreadingfromascript.Atgunpoint.DidJamietellhimtoreportback?
“Someoneyouwouldn’tlike,andIwouldn’tcallitdating,”Ireplyflatly,andduckoutoftheroomunderhisarm.“Youcansleepinmybedagaintonight.I’lltakethecouchwhenIgethome.There’saThaiplacethatdelivers,themenu’sonthefridge.SayhitoMeganforme.”
Behindme,hisbootsarefollowing.
Igrabmykeys,bag,andjacketinfluidswingsofmyarmsandkeeponwalking.There’snowayIwanttostayandmarinateinthisawkwardtension.I’llflagdownacabfromthemainroadneartheconveniencestore.Outthedoor,upthepath,he’sbehindme.
“Youlooklikeyou’rerunningawayfromhome,Darce.Worriedyou’reactuallygoingtohavetothinkaboutthewinebottlesandyourheart?”
Ifhekeepspressingme,I’mgoingtotellhimwhattheproblemis:Primarily,thatIwanttounziphispants.Secondproblem,I’mtheworstfuckingpersontobehavingthesethoughtsaboutanalmost-marriedman.
Third:I’msojealousofMeganI’mgoingtorevtheengineofacombineharvesterandconvertherintoabagofbloodygrain.
Butthesehavealwaysbeenmyproblems.
“Ithinkyoushouldstopfollowingme.”Iturnandwalkbackward.“Unlessyouwanttocomeout.Thatmightbetoomuchfun.Thatmightactuallyclassifyaslivinglife.”
Valeskabadlywantsmebackbehindthepicketfencewherenothingbadcanhappentome.Icanseeitinhim—thestrainofhisbody,thehandsfoldedathissides.Guardanddrag,that’swhathewantstodo.
“Ihavetostartearly.Darce,pleasestayintonight.”
NowayamIgoingtoindulgemyselfinhisoverprotectivePrincessMode.It’stoosucculent,toolovely.Ican’tbeunderthesameroofashimalone.“Nope.”
“IpromisedeveryoneI’dlookafteryou,”hetriesagain,beforerealizingwhathe’sdone.Sayingthatwillonlymakemewalkfaster.
“Ican’t,”Icallbacktohim.“Idon’ttrustmyselfanymore.”
Iturnashisjawdrops,andnowit’sjustthesoundofmyboots.Idon’thavetolookbacktoknowhewatchesuntilI’moutofsight.
It’swhathedoes.
***
TOMISWRITINGJAMIESPORTSontoaboxofmybrother’ssportsgear.Weareattemptingtheimpossible:emptyinghisroom.“So,howwasyournight?Youmusthavecomeinprettylate.”
“Barelymidnight.Iguessthat’sprettylateforanearlybirdlikeyou.”
“Didyouhaveagoodtime?”He’squiteformal.
“Sure.”NotevenforaseconddidIhaveagoodtime.Ididn’tseeVince,oranyoneIknew.Itravelaloneoverseas,soI’musedtomyowncompany.Butsomethinghaschanged.
Iwasdesperatetogetbackhome.Iwantedtolieonthecouchwithamovieon,listeningtoPatty’sclawsclickingandTompaddingaround.Hisfingerstouslingmyhairandtheclinkofateaspooninamug.Toquashthisweirddomesticfantasy,IsatinMcDonald’sandatehot-fudgesundaes,thenIgotacabhomewhenIfeltconfidenthewasasleep.I’maMcCoward.
Ineedanewplacetosleeptonight,TomsaidasIwasbrushingmyteeththismorning,andI’mgladmymouthwasfulloftoothpaste.Imighthavereflexivelyreplied,Noyoudon’t.
Hehascharitablyerasedthatweirdmomentlastnight.He’sgoodlikethat
Itrytodothesame.“Jamie’ssittingathisdesk,pokingawayatacalculator.Witnessme,officiallyworkingharderthanhim.Hesuredoeslikebooksaboutdudesbeingframedbythegovernment.”I’mstackingthemintoabox.
“Bookswithshortchaptersandbriefcasesofcash,”Tomsays,draggingcrapoutfromunderthebed.He’sreadplentyofJamie’sdiscardedbooksinhistime.
“Womenwithglossyredlips.SpeedboatsinMonteCarlo.”Ipickuponewitharevolveronthecover,anditflipsopenalittletooeasilytoadirtybit.Ireadit,leaningagainstthebedframe.
Tomlooksupfromstackingsomedumbbellstogether.“Yourhardworkdidn’tlastlong.”
Iholdmyfingerup.There’safoaming,gruntingclimaxandIwrinklemynose.“AndnowJamieandIhavereadthesamesexscene.It’sinbothofourbrains.”Ihaveafull-bodyshiver.“Whycan’tIstopdisturbingmyself?”
“Noidea,”Tomlaughs.Hetakesthebook,andtomysurprisehereadstheentirescenetoo,flippingoverthepagewithacreaseonhisbrowlikehe’sstudyingforanexam.
Iwatchhiseyesmovesidetoside,sweatywordsinhishead.
Myheartwringsitselfout,givesmeanewflushofblood,andIthinkIhavepinkcheeks.IfI’mthisscandalizedjustwatchingTomreadasexscene,I’dbetternotletmybraintakethelogicalnextstep.
Toolate.Lookatthosebighands.Knuckleslikewalnutsandnicecleannails.They’rethekindofhandsthatyouwantallover.AndnowI’mpicturingthehugeupwardpushofhisbody,lockinghimselfintome,100percentdeep—
Hesnapsthebookshutandsnapsmeoutofmyreverie.
“Well,thatwasremarkablystraightforward.”Hetossesthebookinthebox,hiseyesgivingmenoclues.Isthatsceneareasonablepropositiontohim?
“Theguysinthesebooksaredrillingforironore.”
Tomlaughs.“Andtheoneswrittenintheseventiesalwaysmentionabrassiere.IwasatleastseventeenwhenIrealizedthatwasjustabra.”
“Youwerequiteana?veboy.Therearealwayspuckeredpeaksandnestsofcurls,”Igrunt,liftingasecondhalf-emptyboxup.“Andthewomenallorgasmaftereighthardthrusts.Oh,Richard!Givemeabreak.”Iwriteonthebox:JAMIE’SFUCKBOOKS.
Tomtakesthemarkerandcrossesoutthemiddleword.“IseemtorecallthatLorettalikedherbooksonthespicyside.”
Isnort.“Whileyouguyswereoffbeingwholesomeandskiing,Iwashere,warpingmybrainonhersoft-corepornnovels.Explainsalot,huh.I’mthepersonmostlikelytohaveathousanddollars’worthofsextoysinherdiningroom.”
“Ipeekedinherbooksoccasionally,”Tomconfesses,thecornerofhismouthcurling.
“Youdidn’t.”Ilaughindelight.“Well,goodforyou,TomValeska,youdirtykid.”
“WhenJamiewasinthebathroomorLorettawasmakingsandwiches,I’djustreadaparagraph.Igotmysexeducationrightinthishouse.”He’sstackingjunkintoanewbox.“Abitdisjointed,butIeventuallypieceditalltogether.Itdidgivemesome…unrealisticexpectations.”
Iwanttoknowwhathemeansverybadly,butIjustsay,“Youandmeboth,buddy.”
Iwritealotofchecksthatmybodycannotcash.Aheartlikeminedoesn’tletmegettoovigorous,andtheguysIchoosehavenoidea.Iwriteonthesecondboxofbooks:JAMIE’STWISTEDFANTASIES.Ihoisttheboxontomyhipandtheedgeoftheboxsnagsmynipplepiercing.Igrabmyboobandhowl.
“Areyouokay?”Ohdear,hethinksI’mhavingaheartattack.
“It’sthepiercing.Nomatterhowmuchtimepasses,itlikestoremindmethatit’sthere.I’mprettysureit’shot-wiredstraighttomybrain.”IwatchTomprocessthisinformation.Ican’ttellifhe’srepulsed.“It’sapainyoufeelintherootsofyourteeth.”
Faint,hesays,“Whygetit?”
“It’spretty.”
Tompluckstheboxoutofmygripwithuncharacteristicviolence.Hewalksouttothegaragewithmetrailinghim.“There’snopointinwreckingyourself.You’vepackedmostofthese.NotevenJamiecouldaccuseyouofnotputtinginefforttoday.”
Iwalkbackintothehousefortheotherbox.
“I’mtakingit.I’m-taking-it.”Idoaquicksystemscheck.Heart’srock-solid.Everything’sfine.ExceptTom’sparkedhismusclesinthedoorway.“Moveit.”
Hetakesthebox.“Yeah,yeah.I’dratheryoubemadthanunconscious.”Offhegoes.
Indefeat,IfillaboxwithJamie’sshoes.“MaybeIcanhandleaboxoffuckingshoes,”IsaytoDiana,whohasjumpeduponthewindowsill.IbetshehasbigplanstosleeponTom’sbed.“Livethedream,girl.”
Idon’tbotherpackingthesecarefully;Jamiewouldhaveawholenewwardrobeofshoesbynow.Whenheleft,itwaswithonesuitcase.That’showfasthehadtoleavebeforehecommittedhomicide.
Tomreturns.“Thanksforlettingmeuseyourroom.Idon’tthinkI’vesleptsowellinyears.Yourmattressis…”Hecan’teventhinkofaword.Iknowwhathemeans.
“IfImarryanyone,itwillbethatbed.It’swhyIsleepsomuch.”I’mgettingmorewipedoutbylife.WhenItravel,Ihavetoliedownintheafternoons.Together,weflipthegenericmattressonJamie’soldbed,andwemakethebedwithfreshfloweredsheets.“WhenItravel,ImissmybedmorethanmostpeopleIknow.”
“Youmustlovetravelingtoleaveabedlikethat.”
“Ashardasitisforyoutobelieve,yeah.Ido.Iswear,ifJamietookmypassportIamnevergoingtoforgivehim.”
“Sureyouwould,”Tomsaystentatively.He’sgotarawnessinhisexpression.“You’reexaggerating,aren’tyou?”
“Anyonewhoknowsme,knowsthatthatwouldbetheworstthingtodotome.Ihatebeingforcedtostay.”IwishmybrotherwouldstopintrudingonmylimitedtimewithTom.“Areyouevengoingtofitonthislittlebed?”Jamiedidn’tgetalotofactionwhenlivinghere;hencethebooks.
“I’msureIwill.Don’tforget,I’llbeoutinmytentwhentherenovationstarts,”Tomsaysafterabeat.“Hey,what’sthis?”He’spullingoutalargecanvasfromunderthebed,andweleanitagainstthewall.It’smyRosburghPortraitPrize–winningportrait.Ofwhoelsebutmybrother.
“Hereallyworkedtheroomlikeacelebritythatnight,”IsayaswestareatJamie.Hestaresbackatus.
Objectively,it’saphenomenalimage.Iclickedthecamera,butIdidn’tdoitalone.That’sjustthewayJamie’sfaceinteractswithlight.Thatnightoftheaward,hewasdrunkonhisownbeautyandcleverness.Andchampagne,naturally.Ifeltlikehe’dwontheprize,notme.IhadtogiveshortinterviewsastheyoungestawardwinnerandwatchTomfadingintothesidelines,Meganhookedontohisarm.
“Hesleptwithtwodifferentcocktailwaitressesthatnight.Two.”Tomisdumbfounded,likeitisscientificallyimpossible.ItoccurstomethatMeganishisoneandonly.Thecombineharvesterkeysareinmyhand,soIbegintobabble.
“Well,ifyouinsistoncarryingtheboxes,youcouldmovethosefive,andtheroom’sbasicallydone.Jamiewon’tbelieveIhelped,probably.MaybeIshouldsoakahandkerchiefinsweatandhecangetitverifiedbyalab.”
“You’reobsessedwithprovingyoucanworkharderthanhim.It’sjustapermanentbattlewithnoending.”TomregardstheportraitwithanexpressionIcannotread.“Youtwoaresotoughoneachother.Whydon’tyoutrybeingfriends?Whenyouare,it’samazing.”Hegrinsatamemory.
“Ihavetoprovemyself.EverytimeIcallsomeoneoutoftheblue,they’vegotthistremorintheirvoice.Hello?Likethey’reimaginingmemakinganemergencycallwithmybluehalf-deadhand.That’swhyIlikeguyslikeVince.Theydon’ttreatmelikeaninvalid.”
“Vince,”Tomsays,seizingonanameatlast.HeturnsitoverinhismindlikeoneofLoretta’starotcards.“Vince.NotVinceHaberfieldfromhighschool.”
“Yeah,VinceHaberfield.Heeitherdoesn’tknowaboutmyheart,orheforgot,sowhenwehangit’snotthishugedeal.”Idon’treallycareforTom’sexpressionsoIgointothekitchenandunearthatakeoutmenu.“ShouldIorderapizzaforyoubeforeIgoovertoTruly’s?Sillyquestion.OfcourseIshould.”
He’snowsittingonhisnewbed.“You’rewithVinceHaberfield?How’dthatlittlepieceofshitturnout?”
“He’sstillapieceofshit.AndI’mnotwithhim.”IholdoutmyhanduntilherealizeswhatIwant;hegivesmehisphone.IorderapizzaIknowhe’lllikeandhandthephoneback.“Saysomething.”
He’sjustsittingthere.Idon’tknowwhathe’sprocessing,butitseemslikealot.Ipathimontheshoulder.“Icanseeyou’renotexactlyoverjoyed.BadnewstoreporttoJamie,huh?”
“I’mnotreportinganything.”Hesaysthatwithatightjaw.Buthe’sstillhimself.Idon’tgetthathintofwolfthatIthoughtImightwhenwelookintoeachother’seyes.
“Hey,don’tjudge.Datingisanabsolutenightmare.Begladyoudon’thavetoworryaboutit.”
“Ithoughtyouweren’tdatinghim.”He’sgotmethere.“Well,Ihavetoworryaboutitnow.”Herubshishandonhisface.
“Youarenotlookingafterme,”Itellhiminmymostfirmvoice.“Nomatterhowmuchyouwantto,I’mnotyourstolookafter.”
Iwatchassomethinglikeawordlessprotesttwistsupoutofhim,andhe’sgroaningandputtinghisfaceinhishands.He’smiserable.I’mbreakinghisbrainjustbeinginthishouse.
Timeformetogetoutofhere.Onewrongmoveandhe’llbejamminghisstuffbackintohissuitcaselikeJamiedid.
“I’mgoingtoTruly’snowforawhile.Savemesomepizza.”Idon’tneedtochangemydustyclothes.Keys,wallet,shoes,I’moutthedoor.Iamthequeenoftheinstantexit.I’mpracticallyjumpingoutadogdoor.“Bye.”
“Wait,”Tomcallsfrombackinthehouse,surpriseinhistone.
Pattyslipsoutbehindme.“Hey,comeback!”Ichaseheruptothepavementandscoopherup.“Naughty.”
There’sacarapproaching,andit’snotapizzadeliverycar.That’dbeoneinstantmiraclepizza.It’sanoisy,blackcar.Iknowthiscar.Isetasprintrecordrunningbacktothefrontdoor,mybloodwhooshinginmyears,andstuffPattyintoTom’sopenhands.“Bye.”
Theblackcarstopsatthetopofthedrive,blockingmycarin,andtheignitionisturnedoff.Thedriver’sdooropens.
Vincehaseitherperfecttiming,ortheworsttimingofalltime.Chapter9
MomentslikethesemakemecertainthatLorettaislyingfacedownonacloud,stuffingpopcornintohermouth,nudgingVince’scaralittlefasterdownMarlinStreet.Twominuteslater,I’dbegone,andVincewouldbejustcruisingpast.
Vinceroundsthehoodofthecar,seesmeandTom,andstumblesalittleinsurprisebeforerecovering.Hesitsonthehoodofhiscar.Speakofthedevil.
“Youstillhavenophone.”That’sVince’swayofsaying:Ihaven’tseenyouforawhile,Iwantedtoseeyou,andthisistoughonmyego.
I’vegotneweyesnow,lookingathim.Tom’sstraightforwardgorgeousnesshasspoiledmeformyusualtype.Vinceiswhipcordlean,paleanddarkhaired,dressedinhead-to-toeblack.Tattoosgalore.Darkcirclesandanairoftorturedartist.Hecupshishandsaroundacigarette,there’saflick,andnowhe’sexhalingplumesofgray.
“ThoughtI’ddropby.”Vinceclearlyhatesthesesortsofmomentswherehe’sgottojustifyhisactionsorgiveashit.I’veneverrequireditfromhim.Anotherdrag,andhisblueeyeslookanywherebutatme.“Butyou’vestillgotcompany.TomValeska,right?Haven’tseenyouforyears,man.How’sitgoing?Cutedog.”
“Justgreat,”Tomsaysonahalflaugh,Pattystraddlinghisforearm.She’sgotatoadlikeexpression.Cigarettesmakehersneeze.“I’mfantastic.”
“AndI’mfine,”IaimsarcasticallyatVince.Hejustgrinsatme,lookingatmybodyinmyclothes.
“Noargumenthere.”VincenarrowshiseyesatTom’sface,assessinghim.“Areyouheretostartonthehouse?”
“Yep,”Tomsays.
“Abouttime.Whatadump.Andyou’restayinghere?”Vinceislookingatthetruck,andthinkingaboutwhatopportunitiesmaybeimpactedbythis.
Tomwouldcrosshisarmsifheweren’tholdingaChihuahua.“I’llbehere.Everydayforthenextthreemonths.She’sworkingonitwithme.”
Vincemullsthisover.“Heardyouwereoutlookingformelastnight.Lennysentmeatext,saidhesawyouatSully’s.”Hejingleshiskeyringatme.“Let’sgoout.”
“Iwasn’tlookingforyou.I’vegototherplanstonight.Beatit,shithead.”Ipointattheroad.
“Wow.Waytomakemefeelusedandabused.”VinceaddswithaslysmiletoTom,“Sheonlywantsmeforonething.”He’stechnicallycorrect.Tomraiseshiseyestotheskylikehe’sprayingforstrength.Atthisrate,I’mgoingtohavetodigasmall,thingrave.
Forthelastfewyears,VinceandIhaveusedeachotherrepeatedlyinthelittlegapsoftimewhenIarrivebackintown.Idon’tevenbothertellinghimwhenIleave,becausewhocares?Nothim.
SexwithVinceislikegoingtothegym;Ifeelslightlybetterafterhavingdoneitasthesweatcoolsonmybody,butImakealotofexcusestomyselfastowhyIshouldn’tgo.
Tom’sdealtwithenoughofmyboystoknowthatthebestresponseistobeinfuriatinglypolite.“Whereareyouworkingthesedays,Vince?”You’dneverguesshecalledhimalittlepieceofshittwominutesagoButterwouldn’tmeltinthatperfectmouth.
VincelookssidewaysatthedecalonTom’struck.“I’mbetweengigsatthemoment.I’mtryingtogetDarcytohookmeupwithajobatthebar,butshe’sholdingoutonme.Icouldgetintoconstruction,though.”Alingering,job-offer-sizedpauseislefthere.
Ishakemyhead.“LikeI’mgoingtobabysityourassatthebar.YoucanworktherewhenIleave.”
TomstaresatVince.“Andwhatdoyouthinkofthefactshe’scomehomewithabruisefromworkingthere?Fromaguy?”
Vincelooksmealloverbutcan’tseeanythingamiss.“Shehandlesherself.Ibetshefuckedhimup.”HefaltersunderTom’seyesandaddsawkwardly,“Areyouokaythough,Darce?”
“Fine.Andyou’recorrect.Icanhandlemyself.”IlikehowVinceseesme.Unquestionablytoughandwithnoneedofsaving.
“Whodidit?”Vinceismorecuriousthanoutraged.
Ihuff.“Keith.Thebigdumbdipshit.”
“Shiiiit.”Vincewhistles.“He’sgotathingforyou,youknow.Prettyobvious.Theboysalllaughaboutit.”
“Well,youcouldhavegivenmeaheads-up.DidabarrelofViagrarollintothewatersupply?BecauselasttimeIchecked,Iwasn’tirresistible.”
Iscuffmybootaroundinthegravel.I’mstillembarrassedeverytimeIthinkabouthowI’djokearoundwithnothoughtofkeepingmyguardup.
“HewastryingtotellmesomethingIdidn’twanttohear.Hegrabbedmyarmtomakemelisten.That’sallitwas.Itwasn’tsomeviolentthing.Itwasanannoyingthing.”I’mtellingallofthistoTom.
“Itwasagrabbing-someone-at-workthing.Abruisething.Absolutelynotokay.”Tom’seyesareValeskaorange.Inmyblackandwhiteworld,it’stheonlycolor.Foronedeepthrobbinginstant,Iwanttobeinhisarms,thosebighandscradlingmyhead.Noonecouldputabruiseonme.
“Youdon’twanttotakehimon,man,”VinceadvisesTom.“Thatguyishuge.”He’snoticedTom’sexpressionandlooksawaywithagrin,halfobscuredbysmoke.“Well,youmightdoallright.You’vebeenhittingthegym.”
“Nope.”
“Thishereisahard-workbody,”ItellVince.I’mstartingtogetannoyedathimandhislight,snarky,sexybanter.AconversationwithVinceisliketryingtothreadalivewormontoahook.
ThenIrealizesomething,andit’senoughtostopmyheart.Vinceisthesameasme.HowdoesTomevendealwithme?Ohshit.I’vegotatypeallright:It’sme.Histonguestudwinksinthedusklight.Myvariationwinksbackfromthedarkcupofmybra.We’resosimilarwecouldbetwins.
“I’mserious,I’vegottoleave.”Iunlockmycar.“You’reblockingmein.”
“Shesureisgoodatleaving,huh?”TomsaystoVinceinanunexpectedmomentofkinship.
“She’sapro.Sowhatelseisup,man?Iheardyou’remarryingthathotbrunette.Congrats.”
VinceheardaboutitduringoneofmydrunksadSully’sboozefests.Ididn’tthinkhewasproperlylistening.WhoknowswhatIsaid.
I’mstartingtogetahot,embarrassedface.Mykeyringisbeinganasshole,everykeytwistedandcaughtonthenext.I’mshakingtheminfuryandIcannotbeartohearevenonepieceofweddingnews.
Tom’svoicecutsthrougheverything.“No,webrokeup.”
Iturnonthepointofmybootandfrownatthemboth.Heneverlies.Whywouldhefeeltheneedto?
“Oh.Sorry.”ThisseemslikebadnewstoVince.HelooksbetweenmeandTom,sizingthingsup,andthendecidessomething.Hedetacheshisbuttfromhiscar,treadsonhiscigarettebutt,andsauntersoverinbootsthatareverysimilartomine.
Heputsahandaroundmywaist.Inanauseatingnicotineexhalationhewhispers,“You’reabitirresistible.Comeoverlater.I’mgonnafuckyousogood.”Hisbottomlipbrushesmyearlobe
IhopeTomdoesn’thavegoodhearing.
Vincehastoldmefarworse,andwithmuchmoredetail,butIrecoilandpushhimaway.“Pass.”
Apizzadeliverycarpullsupagainstthecurb.“I’llgetit,”Tomsaysshortly,digginginhispocketforhiswallet,Pattydepositedintotheviolets.
“Aw,comeon.Letmeconvinceyou.”VincelikeswhenI’machallenge.He’sjustanotheroneofthosebarguys,beingtreatedlikedirtandlovingit.IfIwentallsoftandmushywithVince,IguaranteeI’dneverseehimagain.
“Seeyoulater,Darce,”Tomsays,walkinginsidewithhispizza.Pattyfollowshim,hernoseturneduplikeasnob.Ibraceforthedoorslam,butheclosesitquietly.
“Don’tcomedrivingaroundhere,”IsaytoVincewithathreatinmyvoice.“Itpisseshimoff.”
Vincenodsandputsapieceofguminhismouth.“Irememberhimfromhighschool,andwhathewaslikearoundyou.Gotalittlepushywithmeonce.”Vinceseemstohavesurprisedhimself.Helooksatmewithanewexpression.“Hey,we’veknowneachotheralongtime.”
“No,you’vegotitwrong.Jamiewasthepushytype.”
“Nope,definitelyTom.Watchouthedoesn’tfallbackinlovewithyou,”Vincesaysinavoicethatsoundslikehe’sjoking.Wordsthatsoundserious.“You’dwreckaguylikethatwhenyouleave.Seeya.”
BeforeIsayanything,he’sgettingintothecarandrevvingtheengineunnecessarily.Hereverseswithoutcheckinghismirror,swingsbackinashowyloop,andscreamsoff.Istandthereforalongmoment,tryingtosettlemyself
HowdidInotnoticethatIhavebeencasuallyscrewingmymaledoppelg?nger?Doesthewholethingcountasaweirdkindofmasturbation?
Somethingaboutthesoftsoundofthefrontdoorclosingbothersme.IbethethoughtI’dcavein,forgetTruly,andgetinVince’scar.I’vegottenintocountlessblackcars.Hestayshome.It’swhatwedo.Ifleavingwereasport,I’dbeaHallofFamer.
Backinlove.
Backinlovewithyou.WasIblind?EvendumbassVinceknewit?
MykeyslidesintothefrontdoorlikeLoretta’shandissteadyingmine.IwalkthroughthehousewithnothoughtinmyheadexceptthatIneedtofindTomandtellhimthatI’mgoingtodobetter.Bebetter.I’mcuttingtheshit.
Thishousefeelslikeatuningfork.There’snosound,butthere’svibrationinherenow,adeepbasslinethatIfeelinmystomach.Tomisstandinginthekitchenwithhisbacktome,ahandoneachsideoftheold,deepsink.Mypersonallifeisclearlysickening.
“Sorryaboutthat,”Isay,andhejumpsinsurprise,hittinghisheadonthecupboardabovehimwithacrack.Hehowlsinpain.
“Shit.Sorry,sorry.”Iruntohimandpullhisheaddown.Irubmyhandonthetopofhishead.“Oh,poorTom.I’msorry,I’msorry.Ididn’tmeanit,Iwascareless.”ThewordsruntogetherandI’mnottalkingabouthisheadnow.It’sarelieftobeabletosayit.
“NormallyIcanhearyouwalkingamileaway.”Tomrollshisshoulders,agonyinhisvoice,andwhenhestraightensbackuptohisfullheightmyhandslipstohisshoulder.“Don’tsneakuplikethat.”
He’sleaningbackonthesinknow,andI’mleaningonhim.Hedoesn’tseemtonotice,lostinhisprivateworldofpain,hishandonhishead.Itrytopushfree,buthisotherhandtightensonmywaist.
Fromthisnewperspective,I’mlookingupatthecurveofhisthroatandtheheavyslabofhisbicep.Whiteperfectteethbitingintohisbottomlip.Painlookssomuchlikepleasure.Howcanhebeelegantdespitehisbrutebulk?Michelangelowouldbeholleringforafreshblockofmarble.
Me?Iwantmycamera.Andthat’ssomethingIhaven’twantedinalong,longtime.
Ifthisweremyregularview,andIcouldstandbetweenhiskneeswheneverIwanted,I’dbeapermanentfixture.WhatthefuckiswrongwithMegan?Abigthroboffrustrationgoesthroughme.She’smakingthesamemistakeIdid.Shedoesn’tknowwhatkindofheartshehas.IwonderifIshouldtrytoexplainittoher,somehow.AndhowwouldIdothatwithoutseeminglikeapsycho?
Ifeeltheexactmomentthathispainrecedesandherealizesthatourbodiesaretogether.He’dstepback,buthe’sgotnowheretogo.I’dstepback,buthishandcurlsintoasqueeze.
I’vesatshouldertoshoulderwiththiskidoncartrips,butwe’veneverbeenthiscloseface-to-face.Icanseeeverythingnow,thecandy-crystalfacetsinhiseyesandthebrown-sugarstubbleonhisjaw.He’ssodeliciousmythroataches.
ThelookhegivesmemakesmewonderifI’mintrouble.“Ithoughtyouweregoingout.”
“IwantedtocomebackandsayI’msorry,”Itellhim,andIputmyarmsaroundhiswaistandhug.“Youshutthedoorinawaythatmademesad,andIwantedtotellyouthatI’mgoingtodobetter.”
“Dobetteratwhat?How’dIshutthedoor?”Hisotherarmwrapsaroundmyshoulders.Hecrosseshisfeetbehindmyheels,andnowhisentirebodyishuggingme.Warm,soft,hard.Ithoughtmymattresswasheaven,butthat’sbeforeIlaidmyselfonthisperson.HowamIgoingtoeverpeelmyselfoff?
Iinhalehisbirthday-candlepheromones.Iwanttoknowwhathisgoddamnbonessmelllike.LetmestartdowninhisDNAstructureandworkmywaybackout.
Ispeakintohismuscles.“Youshutthedoorlikeyou’vejustacceptedthatIdon’tcomeback.I’mgoingtostartbeinglikeyou.Completely,onehundredpercenthonest.”Ihoverontheprecipiceanddecidetotry.“Thisisthebesthugofmylife.”
Hisheartbelowmycheekboneisdiligentandregular,andIneedittobeatforever.
“Yeah,it’sprettygood,”heagrees,amused,andIcan’tseehowI’mpullingmyweightinthis.He’stheonedoingallthework.Itightenmyarmsandpresscloser.Thatgold-bubblefeelingexpandsaroundusagain.I’veneverfeltthiswithanotherman.Iknowwhatthisis:joy.Theweightofhisarmsistheonlythingstoppingmefloatingoffthefloor.Ihavetotipmyfacebacktoseeifhefeelsit,too.
Hesmilesatthewonderheseesinmyexpression.
“CompletehonestyfromDarcyBarrett?Ican’thandlethat.AndI’mnotashonestasyouthinkIam.”Someofhispleasurefades.
Ipullbackafraction.“Whyareyoualwaystryingtoconvincemethatyou’renotperfect?Tome,youare.Completelyperfect.Believeme,I’veundertakenaworldwidecensus.Nooneelsemeasuresup.”
Hishandslidesupmyback.“HowcouldIpossiblydeserveDarcyBarrett’stotalhonesty,aswellasherblindfaith?I’mnotperfect.Idon’tknowwhatI’lldowhenyourealizethat.”Heswallowsandtriesdesperatelytochangethesubject.“Ohhey,yournewneck.Istillcan’tgetusedtoyourhair.”
Onmynape,thatwarmhandclaspsdown,andIlightup.
HandsonmyskinarehowIrecharge.It’salwaysbeenthiswayforme.Isitatwinthing?IsitbecauseIsleptinanincubatorforaweek?Idon’tknow.It’saDarcything.Tofeelanotherhumanrestingagainstmejustclearsoutthecrazyinsideme,andTom’sleatherybigpalmsarenextlevel.
Iknowmyeyesprobablygoblackandcrazy,butIpressbackintohispalmandexhaleaweirdpurr.Hisreactionisinstant.I’mbumpedawayandmyskingoescold.Helooksshocked,likeI’vejustcoughedupafurball.
“Sorry,sorry.”Iputmyhandwherehiswasandrubitvigorously.“That’smything.”
“Necks?”Hesaysitfaintly.
“I’vegothungryskin.AllIeverwantissomeonetouchingme.”DoIhaveaphantombruiseagainstmystomach?Didhisbodygiveminealow-down,hardpress?Surelynot.LookwhatI’mdoing.Ruiningabeautifulmoment.“I’dbettergotoTruly’splacenow.”
Iflipopenthepizzaboxandtakeoutaslice.Pizzaisanexcellentrecalibrationtool.Ibite,chew,andhesaysnothing.He’scompletelyfrozen.
“Saysomething,”Isayonaswallow.“TellmeI’mafreakandgetitoutoftheway.”
“IsthatwhyyouneedVince?”Hetriestoclearhisthroatbutit’sjustagrowl.“Yourskinishungry?Whatdoesthatmean?”
Ibitemypizza,holdinghiseyes.“He’sbetterthannothing.”
“How’dyougetfromLoretta’sromancenovelsto‘betterthannothing’?”
“Whileyou’vebeenwithoneperson,livingyourbestlife,I’vebeengettingdisappointedalot.Andprobablydisappointingothers,ifI’mbeingtruthful.”Itdoeshelpmyegothathelookslikehedoesn’tbelieveme.“Vinceisn’tthatbad.”
Tomchooseshiswordscarefully.“Youwantmyopiniononyourfuckbuddy?I’vegotasledgehammerinthetruck.I’dbegladtoshowhimhowitworks.”
Aspikythrillunfurlsinsideme.“See.Youalwaystellthetruth.I’mgoingtodothesame.Howthefuckisn’tMeganjusthuggingyoupermanently?You’reonehellofahugger.”Hernamealoudbringsmebacktothesceneonthefootpath.“Why’dyoubotherlyingtoVincebefore?”
HeknowsexactlywhatImean.“Ididn’tlie.”
“Ofcoursenot.Youneverlie.Except…Megan.Youhaven’tbrokenup.”Ipullapartthepizzacrustwithmyfingers.“He’shardlygoingtofeelthreatened,orcare,ifyouliveherewithme.”
“Wedid.Webrokeup.”
“Hilarious.Reallyfunny.Quitfuckingwithme.”IofferacornerofcrusttoPattyanddustmyhandsonmypants.Iwait,andhedoesn’tsayanything.Hejuststaresatme.“Butyou’regoingtoforcemetobeyourweddingphotographer.You’llask,andI’llsayyes.You’llbothbesickeninglyphotogenic.”Iputahandonmyhip.Iglareathimbuthedoesn’tcrack.Isheserious?“Exactlyhowlonghasmyphonebeeninthetoilet?”
“Webrokeupaboutfourmonthsago.ItoldyourfamilythatI’dtellyouinperson.”
“Butit’sjustabreak.You’llgetherback.”
“No,”hesaysgently.“Iwon’t.”
“Butyouwantherback.I’llhelpyou.”Hejustshakeshishead.AndIbrieflylosemymind.
Idodgesidewaystowardthebackdoor—Ineedair.Ineedskyandstarsandcold;IneedtositontheringsofSaturndanglingmybootsintotheblackuniversetobealone,buthestepseasilyaroundme,andnowI’mtheoneleaningonthesink.
“Stayhere.”
“Areyouokay?”Iwanttograbhimbytheshouldersandcheckforphysicaldamage.I’llcrackopenhischesttocheckhowbadhisheartlooks.
“Me?”Hethinksforasecond.“Everyonejustasksifshe’sokay.”
“Yeah,becauseshe’sjustlostyou.Areyouokay?DoIneedtogoandbeattheshitoutofher?”
Inoticeoneofthecabinetsabovemeisajar.Forsomethingtodo,Iputahanduptocloseit.Whenmyfingershookintothetinyhandle,theweb-thinhingebreaks.NowI’mstandingherewithabrokendoorinmyhand.Ileanitagainstmylegandtrytolookcool,butI’mpracticallyauditioningforSmackDown.
Unwillingly,helaughs.
IamgoingtobeatMeganwiththisdooruntilsherealizeswhatafuckupshe’smade.HeknowsexactlywhatI’mthinking.
“You’realwayssovicious,DB.”AsmilequirksattheedgeofhismouthashelooksatthedamageIjustinflicted.Myviciousnessthrillshim.“Howdoyouknowit’snotmethatdeservesthebeating?”Hetakesthecupboarddoorfromme.Moretohimself,hesays,“ThisisgoingroughlyhowIthoughtitwould.”
“Isyourheartbroken?”Ireachupandyankoffthenextcupboarddooralongwithasatisfyingcrack.Ihandittohim.
“It’s…sore.Notbroken.”Helooksupatthenextcupboarddooralong.Somethinglikefuckitcrosseshismind,andhebreaksoffadoorhimself.
“Whoendedit?”Crack.Anotherdoorgone
“Well…I’vebeentryingtoworkitout.Aftereightyears,itwaskindofajointdecision,likemostthings.I’msorry.Iknowyoureallylikedher.Actually,no.Inevercouldtellifyoulikedher.”
Ipulloffoneofthelowercabinetdoorsandtrytobreakitinhalfovermyknee.Ican’tdoanythingelsewiththisenergy.He’ssingle.Thefirsttimeineightyears.AndIneedcarpetburnonmykneesandawallagainstmyback,andtolicktheshowersprayoffhimandfeedhimcoldpizzainthemiddleofthenightsohekeepsuphisstrength.
Meganisaredstainbehindmycombineharvester,andthat’stheextentofmypityforher.
Hetriestoeasemewithahandonmyshoulder.“Whyareyoudoingthis?”
“IfIdon’tdothis,I’lldosomethingelse.”Somethingsodeeplyirreversiblewewon’tbeabletomakeeyecontactwhenwepasseachotherinthenursinghomehall.Fuckit.ThatcompletehonestyIpledged?Hereitcomes.Upmythroatandoutloud.Onebigterrifyingblurt.
“Areyougoingtoputyourhandsonme,orwhat?”Chapter10
Tomlooksathisownhands,holdingacabinetdoor.Hetriestocomposeasentenceforalongtime.Finally,hemanages,“Excuseme?”
“’CauseIswear,IneedyourhandsmorethanI’veeverneededanything.”
Iwipemyhandoverthebackofmymouth.Fuckit.He’sabigboy,hecanhandlepizzabreath.Mybodyistakingover.Everythingisboilingupoutofme—yearsofstolenlooksandtightT-shirtsandthatbone-deepcertaintythattheanimalinhimwantsme,too.
Howelsecouldhealwaysmakemefeelthisway?Brighter,darker,hungrier?Nooneelsehasmestandinginacoldshowerorbreakingdownakitchenwithmybarehands.Iwanthimcryingwithpleasure.Iwanttobetheonlyonehecanthinkof.
“Takeyourshirtoff.Shoesoff.I’lldotherest.”Lusthasbrokenmyvoicebox;I’mraspy.Ipointatmybedroomdoor.“Bed.Getinit.”I’mlookingatthesolidsquareofhisbeltbuckle.
“Areyououtofyourmind?”He’sstunned.
WhenIreachforhimlikeacreepysexzombie,hestepsaway,almostcoweringagainstthefridge—ahugemanterrifiedofmyoutstretchedfingertips.Hereachesupandpullsdownthebrokenretractableblindfromthewindowandthrowsitonthefloorbetweenus,asifitcouldpossiblykeepmeback.
“Darcy,areyoujoking?”
“DoIlooklikeI’mjoking?”Iwatchhimswallowandhisjawtenses,thetendonslikeribbons.IthinkIlooklikeI’mapredator.“I’mnotjoking.Ijusttoldyou,I’mtellingthetruthfromnowon.Iwantyou,bad.Ifeelhowmuchyouwantme.Soshowmewhatyougot.”Mybreathispuffingoutofme,lightandfast.
“DB,youhavelostit.Quitmessingwithme.”
Holly’sright.I’mnotromantic.I’llfixitlater.“TomValeska,getinme.”
Heletsoutashakybreathandthere’salightoffearinhiseyes.I’mascarybitch.He’sabashfulsweetheartwithpinkcheeks.Valeskaisnowhereinsight.Thefirstmomentofdoubthitsme,andInarrowmyeyesathisface.Seriously?IthoughtI’dhaveteethonmebynow.“Well?”
Hepushesathisbeltbucklelikeit’suncomfortable.“I’msorryyou’vehadashock.IshouldhavetoldyouassoonasIarrived.”
HeturnshiswaistawayandI’mcertain.He’sgotanironerection,andit’sforme.I’mhavingit,pressinginaninchatatimeuntilIcan’tevenblink.Thishousecangotohell.
Thelookinmyeyesmakeshisbreathcrackinhislungs.Idon’tneedamirrortoknowImustlookfuckingintense.
I’llgivehimasecondtocomposehimself.“Whydidn’tyou?Jesus,Tom.I’vebeenmakingacompleteassofmyself.HowmanytimesdidIbringherup,andyousaidnothing?”Igotothepantrydoor.Thebigfucker.It’sallIcando.
Crack.TomcatchesitbeforeI’mflattenedunderneath.
“Alotoftimes.”Hisfaceispainedasheputsitonourgrowingpileofdebris.“You’realothardertolietothanIthought.”Helooksatmybedroomdooragainandshakeshisheadslightly,likehehaswaterinhisear.“Didyoujusttellmeto—”Hecan’tfinish.
“YoutellthetruthtoVince,butnotme?”
“Ilostmytemper,”hesayswithouthumor.Outthere,hewashisusualperfectself.I’ddismisshimascold,butwhenhelooksbacktome,he’sglitteringdarkernow.Hungrier.There’samagnetdraggingustogether.Finally.
“Saystheguywithasledgehammerinhiscar.”Ishakemyheadandpullalltheknobsoffthebrokenovenandtossthemathisfeet.“Youaremyonestraightforwardperson,youknowthat?Youaretheonepersonwhotellsthetruth.Andyou’vebeenlyingtomesinceyouarrived.Why?”
“Ithoughtitwouldbebetterthisway.IfItoldyouaftertherenovation.”Hesaysitlikeit’sreasonable.
“Andwhy’sthat?”Alittlevoiceinsidemyheadwhispers,Ohno.
“Becauseofthis.”Hegesturesaroundtheroom,hiseyescatchingonmymouth.IlickmylipandthinkaboutthesyrupIdrank.He’snotwalkingoutofherealive.
Thenhebringsmebacktoreality,inthesweetest,kindestTomwaypossible.
“IthoughtitwouldbesaferifIdidn’ttellyouuntilthehousewasdone.Ithoughtthismighthappen.”Asifhecan’thelphimself,hereflexivelylooksatmybedroomdoor.“Anditwon’thappen.”Hischestrisesandfalls
Hiseyesareprofoundlydisturbed.Hewon’tbegettinginmybed,becausehedoesn’tthinkaboutmelikethat.Atall.AndI’vejustshowedmyentirepokerhandtohim.ThisislikemyaskingtobuyLoretta’sringfromJamieintheparkinglot,oneminuteafterheinheritedit.Whydon’tIevertrytostrategize?Everythingjusteruptsoutofmyvolcanomouth.
Hesays,“Ithoughtitwouldbesafertolie.”
Hotredbloodisfillingmybody,risingupmytorso,myneck,totherootsofmyhair.Humiliationisdissolvingmyskeleton.“Safer.”Myvoicesoundsveryfarawaytome.“Safer?”
Myparentswouldprobablyunderstandthereasonforhissweetwhitelie;Jamiedefinitelydoes.
“Ineedtofocusonthehouse,”hesays,veryreasonably.“I’veneverrunabusinessbeforesingle-handed.”He’sgotasweatsheenonhisskinandhe’sstillstrugglingtocatchhisbreath.“I’veknownyousinceyouweremeltingBarbieswithalighter.You’reJamie’ssister.IpromisedyourparentsthatI’dlookafteryou.”
Andjustlikethat,Iunderstand.Life’sallaboutfindingbuffers.
Meganwasabufferbecauseit’sbeenclearforyearsthatthemomentshewasgone,I’dpounce.Christ,Ididn’tlastoneminute.Ihavenogame.Forahabitualliar,Iseemtoslipupatthecrucialmoments.
Hehashisfirstjobforhisowncompanyanddoesn’twantmesmoochingaroundlikePepéLePew.I’mtheclient.I’mhisbestfriend’ssister.I’mMr.andMrs.Barrett’sweak-hearteddaughter.I’mtheliabilityhesworetotakecareof.
I’makitchen-trashingpsychopathwhoisgoingtotearhisclothesoffhisbodyandkisshimdowntohisbones.AndIneedtogetagrip.
Imakemyselflaughandnod.“Okay.Fairenough.That’sprobablysmart,actually.”
Isomehowwalktothefrontdooronmytremblinglegsandthecooleveningairfloodsin.Iwillfindthenearestoceanandwalkin,allthewaydowntoAtlantis,andinquireaboutrealestate.“NexttimeIseeyou,youcan’tmakemefeelshittyaboutthis.Pretenditdidn’thappen.Butyouknowwhat?Ithoughtyouhadmoreguts.”
***
IGOTOaliquorstore,buysomethingcheapystickysweet,andthengotoTruly’shouse.Sheopensthedoorandblinksowlishlyoutintothenight.
“Ineedtolieonyourcouchforabit,”Itellher,toeingoffmyboots.“Ijustdidsomethingunforgivable.”
“Okay,”shesayswithouthesitation,liketheexcellentfriendsheis.We’vebeenlyingoneachother’scouchessincehighschool.IwilllieonhercouchuntilthedayIdie.
Exceptlyingonhercouchisnotanoption,asitturnsout.It’sstackedwithunderwear.Trulyseemstohavehardlyregisteredmyarrival;shegoesbacktohersewingmachine,illuminatedbyabrightoverheadlamp,andthewhirringresumes.
TrulyNicholsonisthequeenofacultindieunderwearlabelcalledUnderswears,andno,hernameisnotanickname.Well,itwasinitially.ShewascalledTrulyinuterowhenshefinallymadeherappearanceonanultrasoundscreen.Thatlittlebabywastrulyamiracle.
Iassessherbent-overback.“Finishupnow.Ithinkyou’vedoneenough.”Idoubtshe’seatenanythinginhours—possiblydays—worryingaboutgreaseonherfingers.Crumbs,stains,anddripsarehermortalenemies.“Truly,IneedtotellyouaboutatotallyinsanethingIjustdid.”
Wheeeee.Thesewingmachinerollsabouttwoinchesoftinystitches.There’sclicking,andthen,wheeee.
Robotically,Trulyliftsthemachinefoot,repositions,depressesthefoot,andthen,wheee.Hereyesarecompletelyblank.I’mprettysureshe’salreadyforgottenI’mhere.WhenIseeshe’sfinishedsewingthecurrentpair,Iturnthelampofffromaboveher.
Theterribleenchantmentisbroken.SheslumpsdownontoherforearmswhileIfindsomechocolate-flavoredmilkthathasn’texpired.Ipullpilesoflaundryoffalittle-usedarmchair,depositheronit,andholdthestrawuptohermouth.
“Alittledramatic,”shewhispers,hoarse,andherpalegreeneyesrollovertofocusonmeasshedrainstheentireglass.Herhandsareuselesstoherbynow.
Herstrawberry-blondhairseemstohavedulledouttothecolorofstraw,andherdimpledcheeksarepale.Shecallsherselfplush-sized.Shehasaspectacularbustlineandabottomlikeaheart.Hereverylineconnectedtoajointiscurved,likeshe’sbeendrawnwithapinkishcalligraphypen.Iwishthingsweredifferent,soIcouldmarryher.Iwillhatewhoevershechooses.
Exceptnoonewouldmarryme.I’minsane.
Ilookatthecompletedunderwear.Teninastack.Ibegincounting.Therehavetobethreehundredpairsdone,easy.Probablymore.“Howlonghaveyoubeendoingthis?”
“Whattimeisit?Andwhatdayisit?”She’snotevenkidding.
“Tuesdaynight.”
Iputtheglassasideandtakehercoldhandinmine.ShecloseshereyesasIgentlytrytostraightenherfingers.Thetendonsresistmelikewires.Ibegintorub.Idon’tthinkshecanfeelanythingbynow.“Youaredestroyingyourself.”
“Mywebsiteglitchedanddouble-sold.Two…hundred…and…fifty…pairs.Icriedforoveranhour.”She’sdetached.“Fivehundredpairstotal.”
TheJamiepartofmybrainworksoutwhatkindofmoneythatwouldlooklike.Mathisn’tmyforte,butit’salot.“Youshouldhavejustreversedthetransactions.”
“Ijust…couldn’t.Peoplewouldhavebeendisappointed.”Shetakesherhandfrommineandholdsouttheotherone.Thefingersarecurledandthistime,whenIflattenthemoutgently,shewhimpersinpain.“Ow,ow,ow.”
“Youdon’toweanyoneanything.Themoneyisn’tgoingtobeworthitifyourhandsturnintolobsterclaws.Carpaltunnelisnojoke.”
Theurgetoaskherifshehasbeentothedoctorisalmostoverpoweringme,butIhateitwhenpeopleaskme.Ibitethetipofmytongueandgointothekitchenagain.Herfridgeisaboutonparwithmine.Ifindbreadinthefreezerandputsomeslicesinthetoaster
“IfIcanjustcleartheseorders…,”shesaysfromtheotherroom,hervoicedrowsy.“I’llgetthislotdoneandsent,andthen…”
“Thenyou’llthinkofanothergreatswearwordorinsult,andthisentireprocessstartsagain.”
Underswearsarehigh-waisted,organiccottonunderwearwiththick,seamlesstrimsandsturdybulletproofgussets.Yourbuttcannoteattheseundies.Theyallhaveaninsultoroffensivephraseprintedonthebutt.I’mwearingapairrightnowthatsayFUCKERingraffitiscript.
WhileIwaitforthetoast,Ilookatthenewrelease.Theyareredwithabluesailorstripe,withthewordsHUMANFLOTSAM.Iphotographedtheprototypeafewweeksback.“Humangarbage,nauticalstyle,”Isaytomyself.“Ineedapairofthese.Aretheymissingsomething?”
Trulygroans.“Li’lanchors.WhydidIdecidetoaddtheanchors?”
“Whimsy.You’reallaboutwhimsy.”
“Well,mywhimsymeansfivehundredminiatureanchors.That’syourjob,please.”Shegesturestoatinyparcel.
“Sure.”I’mnostrangertosewingontinyfixings,ironing,andpacking.Ilugcratesofunderweardowntothepostoffice.Thesheernumberofanchorsmomentarilyoverwhelmsme,butIsquashitdown.Trulymustfeelsomuchworse.Besides,IneedtotakemymindoffwhatI’vejustdone.
IjustpusheddowntheLooneyTunesredignitionhandleandimplodedmyfragilefriendshipwithapersonwhoreallydidn’tdeservethat.
ThemanualtaskisexactlywhatIneed:somethingtofocusmyentirebeingon.Anythinglessthanperfectionrisksbeingdeemedasecond.Icheckthecottoncolor,measuretheexactcenterofthewaistband,threadaneedle,andstitchtheanchoron,usingfivenot-overly-tightstitches.Tinyneatknot,clip,next.Only499togo.Ishowittoher,andshenodswithoutsayinganything.Herphoneislightingupwithrapid-firetextmessages.
“Who’sthat?”
“Mysecretfakelover,”shedrawls,tuckingthephoneinherbackpocket.Shecouldhavearealloverifshewantedone.Iwatchherexpressionandrealizethatshe’sgotasecret;it’scaughtintheupturnedcornerofherlipandthesparkinhereyes.Someone’sbeenthrillingmyTruly.
“I’llletyoukeepthissecretalittlelonger.Thenyou’regonnaspillit.”
“I’msureIwill.You’rehardtolieto.”She’sthesecondpersonwho’ssaidthattometonight.Istitchandtrytonotnoticehowmybottleofwinehasasexycoldbloomontheglass.
“I’mgoingtogiveyournumbertoagirlIworkwith,Holly.Ithinkshe’dbegoodatthis.Ithinkit’stimeyougotyourselfamorereliabledronethanme.”Ibeginagain.Stitchfivetimes,knot,clip.“AndI’llgetanewphone.Comeandgetmenexttime.”
“Sorry.Ijustfreakedoutandstartedsewing.”Truly’svoiceisdrowsy.
“Ifyoueverdouble-sellagain,I’lldrafttheemailandcanceltheorders.I’llbeyourfacelessmanagementasshole.Theycandealwiththeirdisappointment.”
“Ikindofneedthecash,”Trulysays,whichisveryunlikeher.“IfIwanttoscaleup,Ineedtogetaloan.Thislooksgoodinmyaccount.”
Wesittogetherforalongtimeinsilence,Truly’seyesclosed.Ibeginanewanchor.“Tom’sintown.Therenovationisstarting.”
Truly’smouthtipsdownward.“Thatmeansyou’releaving,doesn’tit.”
“No,I’mgoingtostayfortherenovation.I’mgoingtoworkonthehouse.”Isighinabiggrandiosewaysoshedoesn’tknowI’mabouttobeserious.“MystupidwayoftryingtoapologizetoJamieforbreakinghisfinancialheart.AndIwanttomakesurethehouseturnsouthowIwantit.”
Ithinkaboutmoneyforabit.Idon’tliketo.ButhowcanIgetmoreforTruly?Jamieworksinabank.“MaybeJamie’sgotacontactwhocouldhelpwithyourloan.Or”—Iperkup—“oncethehouseissold,Icould—”
“No.”Trulyshakesherhead,eyesclosed.“Noconnections.NoBarrettsavior.I’mdoingitonmyown.”
“Jamiewouldhardlybeasaviorifhegaveyournametoacolleague.”
“Imeantyou.”
“Me.”Ilaughandreachovertothewinebottle.Thedewyglasswetsmyhandanditmakesmerecoil.Ican’triskgettingevenasinglecottonthreaddampandscrewingthisupforTruly.Iwipemyhandonmyleg.
“Youweremystart-upcapital,backintheday.”
“Youpaidmebackforthat.”Ihaveatwingeofembarrassmentinmystomach.
“Youdoallthephotographyanddon’tcharge.Yousewonfivehundredminiatureanchors—”
“I’veonlydonefive.”
Shewon’thearmyprotests.“Yougetmygroceriesandunbendmyfingers.You’rethebest.”
“I’mhumanflotsam.”
“You’rethebest,”sherepeatsuntilIsmileandIdon’tneedthatwinebottleanymore.“Sohow’sTom?Stillahotdorkbeefcake?”
“Ihavetoputamuzzleonmyselfeverytimehewalkspastme.”
“Justlikehighschool.”Trulysighs.“Yourbrother’sbigshadowhasalwaysgottenyoulikethat.”
“IthoughtIwasn’tthatobvious.Well,here’snews.Theweddingisoff.”Icountmystitchescarefully.Iwaitforherexclamationofshock.
“I’mnotcompletelysurprised.”
“IwassosurprisedIpulledthecabinetdoorsofftheirhingesinmykitchen.They’rejustinabigpileonthefloor.ThenItoldhimtogetinmybed.”
“Ha,”Trulybarkswithhereyesshut.
“It’snotajoke.Itoldhimto…”Itrailoffandswallowthebiglumpinmythroat.“Itoldhimtogetinme.”
She’sshakingwithlaughter.Spluttering,shesays,“Meganneverseemedthatintohim.Itwasweird,becausethey’rebothgorgeous.Theyweremorelikebrotherandsister.Ibetshe’sneveronceorderedhimto”—sheopenshereyesinavividgreenflash—“getinher.”
“Shebetternothave,”Isnarl.
“Ibetsheputitinherbulletjournal.Saturday,sixP.M.Aspecialgoldstarstickerindicatingsexualintercoursecompleted.”Trulydriftshalf-asleepagain,emittingtheoccasionalcackle.
Inmydiary,writteninthelittlegapsoftimewhereIletTomsleep,I’dbewriting,Sex,fucking,sucking,nearlydying,needsustenance—withsmudgedinkandaweakhand.Meandmyromanticheart.
Iwillalwaysdefendhim.“Youcan’tknowwhatthingsarelikeforacouplewhenthey’realone.”Istretchandgroaninmisery.“Ibethe’sabsolutelyspectacularinbed.He’sso…competent.Shewouldhavehadzerocomplaints.”
“Didyouever,everseethemkiss?Evenonce?Ithoughtitwasweird.Iwouldhavelikedtoseethemkiss.”Truly’sslurring.Milkandtoastareobviouslystrongopiates.
“Maybeshedidn’twanttowhenIwasthere.”
BecauseI’dprobablyplunderandstabandburn.I’dwatchfromahillsideashervillageburnedtotheground,theflamescracklinginmyVikingeyes.Imessupmycurrentanchor,havetoclipallthethreadsoutandstartagain.
Truly’samindreader.“I’msogladyou’reonmyteam.You’dbeaterrifyingadversary.”
“You’remixingmeupwithmybrother.”
“He’snotthatbad.”
“He’slikethebossyoufightinthelastlevelofacomputergame.Anyway,IneverdidanythingtobreakupTomandMegan.Iwassopolitetoher.”
“WithyourgiantgrayeyesstaringatherduringeveryChristmasdinnerlikeshewasflattenedontoamicroscopeslide.”
“She’ssobeautiful,”Igroan,myneedleslidinginandoutonautopilot.“IthinkIwashalfinlovewithhermyself.Herskinandhairarejust…beautiful.”There’snootherwordIcanuseforher.
“Soareyours.”
“Hair?”Iwaveahandatmybareneck.“Whatisthishairyouspeakof?”
“Darce,”TrulysayslikeIamapitifuldweeb,“youareonetoughcookie,butgosh,whataprettycookie.Anyway,whatdoesitmatter?Hedoesn’tcareaboutlooks.”
Ipause,knot,andclip.“Tomisthebestperson.Theultimatehumanman.Iwasusedtoherhavinghim.Butnow…”Idroptheneedleintothecarpetandcurse,scratchingaroundforit.“He’ssingleandIthinkIneedtoshootmyselfoutofacannonintospace.Iwassexuallythreateningtohimjustnow.”Iprickmyfingerandswear.“Hewasafraidofme.”
“Ohreally.”Shestartsgiggling,delirious.Shewalkstothebathroom,whichisveryclosebyinhertinyapartment.Sheaudiblypeesforages.
“Heliedanddidn’ttellme.Hewasplanningontellingmeaftertherenovationwasfinished.Hesaiditwassafer.”Thewordjustmakesmecringe.“Safer.WhatamIgoingtodo,maulhim?”Ithinkbacktothekitchen.“Okay,fairpoint.”
Trulyspitstoothpasteintothesink.“Maybehedoesn’ttrusthimself.”
“That’sreallynotit.”Ithinkbacktothekitchen.IwassosureI’dfeltonefirmpressonmystomachfromthetruthfulpartofTomValeska’sanatomy.“Hewantstogettherenovationdonewithoutmehangingaround,tryingtosmellhim.I’mjustgoingtohavetokeepalidonmyselfandgetthroughthesenextcoupleofmonths.CanIstayherewithyou?”
Shesmilessweetly.“No.Youstaywithhim.”Idragherintoherbedroomandturnonalamp.Ipulloffhercherry-printKedsandshecrawlsintobed,stilldressed.Shestartstocry.
“What’swrong?”
“I’msotired,”shesaysinbetweenlittlesobs.“Lyingdownhurts.”
Ismoothherhairneateronthepillow.“Iknow,butyou’regoingtopassoutanysecond.I’mgoingtobeherewhenyouwakeupandhelpwiththepackaging.”
“IbetVince’snevermadeyouwreckakitchen,”Trulysays,eyesclosing,tearsrunningdownhercheeksandintoherhair.
“No.Hereallyhasn’t.”
“Interesting.BetternottellJamie.”Foradizzysecond,Imisunderstandandthinksheistalkingtoherself.She’smyonepersonI’vekeptruthlesslyquarantinedfromhim.
She’smine,100percent.
“Noshit.He’dbeonthenextavailableflight.Businessclass,windowseat.Snobbyblondsnob,drinkingwineinasuit,frowningdownattheworldbelow,swoopingintosaveTomfrommyclutches.”
“That’ssortahot,”sheslursasshefadesoff,herheadrollingtooneside.
GoodLord.SeveralbarrelsofChemicalXmusthaverolledintothereservoir.EchoesofHolly’sbreathyHe’ssogood-lookingreverberatearoundtheroom.IwonderifJamiehasburiedhimselfintoTruly’sprimordiallizardbrain,likeatick.
Ifhehas,I’lltweezerhimout.
Inthelivingroom,Isitbackdownwithmyneedleandthread.Imissmyhideoushandsomebrother.It’smomentslikethis,inthedark,withnomusicoranyonetotalkto.Theabsenceofhimisthevoidinsideme,andIdon’tknowwhatmoreIcanstuffintoit.Andontopofitall,I’vejustfuckedup,big-time.IthinkofTom’sabjectterror.Iwastoohonest.AndIwasstone-coldsober.
Thecheapwinebottleisjustsittingthereontheruglikeapenguin.
“What?”Isaytoit.“Leavemealoneforaminute.”Isew,keepingmyeyesontheneedle.
Itwon’tstopstaringatme.
Irelentafterafewmoreanchorsandunscrewthecaptosmellit.Itakeasmallsipfromthebottle,thendeepenmyswallows.Aboutaglassburnsdownthehatch.IthinkaboutTomlookinginmyrecyclingbin.IthinkaboutthetaskTrulyhastrustedmetodo.
“I’vegottoconcentrate,”Isaysternlytothebottle,andputitinTruly’sfridge.Gettingupanddownacoupleoftimesgivesmesomeghostlychestflutters.I’veforgottenmymedicationathome.
Forthefirsttimeinforever,Ifeelconcernedformyself.ThisisworsethanwhenIletmyFurbydieundermybed,mewlingandcrying.HowdoIcorrectthismonumentalneglect?Ipatmychest.“Hanginthere.”IreallyshouldgohaveareviewandanECG,butJamiealwayscomeswithmetothoseappointments.I’mababy.I’mjustPrincess,playingatbeingagrown-up,andfailing.
I’mgoingtoseweverysingleanchorbeforeTrulywakesup.I’mliketheelveshelpingtheshoemaker.Iwillsewandsew.MaybeitwilltakemymindoffTom’swalkingaroundintheworld,singleandresplendent.
MaybeIcouldconvincehim,mybrainsuggestsoptimistically,andmyneedlegoesintomyfinger.
HowcouldIriskhurtingandlosinghim,justtohavehisbody?I’dhavetobetheworstperson.Themostreckless,carelessperson.Areboundkindofgirl.Ohwait.Iam.
“Humanflotsam,”Isaytomyself,andIstitchon,andon,andon.Chapter11
Ihaven’tseenthecolorsofsunriseinalong,longtime.
Inmyoldlife,I’dbeloadingmycarwithphotographygearevenearlierthanthisandheadingofftoashoot,aslavetothisbuttercreamlight.Everyonelooksbeautifulinthisglow.Itairbrushesinawaythatmysoftwarepackagenevercould.Itputsaflushineverythingittouches.
But,allthatsaid:Kill.Me.Now.It’s.Early.Ilieinbedandstareattheexposedraftersaboveme.
I’dnearlyboughtatent,butTomhadshakenhisheadandmovedmeintothebackyardstudio.Juststoreyourselfinherewithyourfurniture,DB.Whenhetossedmymattressdownontothebedframewithasexualgrunt,wenevermadeeyecontact.NotevenPatty’scheerfulsneezescouldbreakthetension.Sorrylittlebuffer,AuntDarcydidabig,badthing.
ItoreupthekitchenandItoreupmyoldestfriendship.
Myvoiceisringingineverysilence:TomValeska,getinme.Itechoeslouderandlouder,untilwe’rewincingandwalkingawayfromeachother.He’susuallysogoodaterasingmyweirdmoments,butthiswastoomuch.ButIfeelthosegoldlamplighteyesarealwayswatchingme.Somethingdeepinsideme—optimism,perhaps—tellsmethathe’sturningovermyofferandinspectingitfromallangles.Measuringitandtestingitforfaults.Showmewhatyougot.
It’sourfirstdayonsite;thedaythatTomhasbeenobsessivelypreparingfor.He’sbeenworkingsohard,andit’swhyI’mupthisearly,toprovethatI’mascommittedtothisasheis.Whatdobuildingcrewswear?I’mnotentirelysure.Igowithatank,blackjeans,andUnderswearsthatsayVILLAGEIDIOTacrosstherump.Girlpandamakeup.Elvishair.Itiemybootstight.Iamno-nonsense.
Islideopenthestudiodoorandstepoutintothebeautifullight.IfeellikeIshouldbedraggingasuitcasetotheairport.Icheckthetimeonmybrand-newphone.FivethirtyA.M.
Timetobeagrownupagain.
Tomlivesoutsidemybedroomwindow,downonthegrass,justliketheValeskaIpicturedasachild.Noonewouldmakeitpastthattenttomystudio’sglassdoor.Rightnow,histentiszippedshut.He’sbeingveryquietinthere.
Iwalkuptothefrontandscratchmyfingerslightlyontheflap.Pattyscratchesback.“Tom?Isthewaterturnedoffinside?I’mbusting.”
EverytimeIgotouseabasicamenity,it’soff.Oron,butcan’tbeused.It’sinfuriating.
There’snosoundandnoreply.IunzipacornerjustbigenoughforPattytosqueezethrough.Shestampedestothenearestclumpofgrassandpeesendlessly.I’malmostreadytojoinher.“Tom?Areyouinthere?”
“What?”Hisvoiceisblurryfromsleep.There’sapause.“Ohfuck.”There’sarustlingsound,somestrugglinggrunts,andTomforceshiswayoutofthetentlikehe’sbeingborn.“Fuck.Whattimeisit?”Helooksmeupanddown;hairandmakeupandblack.
“Fivethirty.”AnyonecouldhearhowproudIam.
“Myphonedied.Isleptin.Fuck.”HerubsbothofhishandsoverhisfaceandhisT-shirtslidesuphigherthanhisbellybutton.Hisphoneisn’ttheonlyonewhoisnowdead.That’sthekindofflat,hardstomachyou’dbeabletosignanimportantdocumentagainst,withaballpointpen.
Safer,Iremindmyselfreflexivelyasmybodyresponds,warmingandpinching.Safer.Justthewordgivesmethestrengthtorefocusmyeyessomewherethatisn’thisbodyorface.
“ThankGodyouwokeup.”HesighslikeIhavesavedhislife.
“Nobiggie.”
“You…haven’tjustgottenhome,haveyou?”Helooksdownfrommymakeuptomyclothes.There’salittlesparkofvulnerabilityinthatone-secondglance.DoesheimagineI’vebeenwithaman?
“Iworkedlateatthebar,andIsetmyalarmlikeagrown-up.I’vebeenrighthere.I’malwaysgoingtoberighthere.”
Itmakeshimblowoutabreath.Hedropshisarmsandthevisiblesliceofstomachdisappears.Iblowoutabreath,too.
“YouoncetoldmethatbadgirlsgotobedatsixA.M.”
I’mnottouchingthatone.“Isthewaterturnedoninthehouseornot?”
“Yes,thewater’sstillon.”Hedisappearsintohistentinafluster.“Damnit.Myguyswillbehereanysecond.”There’sthesoundofclothesstretching.Theymaketentswaytoosturdythesedays.
IgointomybedroomandgetthenewpowerpackIboughtatthesametimeasmyphone.Anotheroneofmypitifuleffortsatresponsibility.
“Plugyourphoneintothis.”
“Thisisofftoafuckinggreatstart,”heismutteringtohimself.Ahandreachesoutforthepowerpack.“Pleasedon’ttellJamiethatIsleptin.Hewon’tletmeforgetit.”
“Don’tworry.Iknowwhathe’slike.He’lltellthestoryforyears.Butyourtraveltimeisapproximatelythirtyyardsthismorning,soyou’renotlate.You’regoingtobefine.”It’ssadhowhardheisonhimself.“EvenifyousleptinuntilnineA.M.,everythingwouldbeokay.”
“No,itwouldn’t,”herespondsfromhistentwithabitoftemperinhistone.“Iamdoingeverythingperfectly.”Thewordsoundslikeaburden.Iwastheonethatplaceditonhim.Weallhave.
Iusethebathroomandbrushmyteeth,thenwalkaroundtheemptyhouseasthemagicalmorninglightbeginstoshineinsideways.Ifeellikeeverything’shappeningtoofast;intheflurryofpackingandavoidingTom,Iforgotthatthisisallabouttobeinmypast.I’mnotreadytosaygoodbyetothis.Igotothewallandsmoothmyhandsoverit,feelingtheoldwallpapercrackle.HowcanIkeepthisforever?
“Iloveyou,”Iwhispertothehouse.“Thankyou.I’msorry.”Igotothefireplace.I’llmakesuretheycoveritupwithsomesheetssoitdoesn’tgetdamaged.EachnailhammeredinbyLorettaisprecious.IwonderhowmanylittleconnectionstoherI’mabouttoloseasthishouseisstrippedtoitsbones.IturnonthespotandIachetoaskTomtocanceleverything.
IfIlookedhimintheeyeandpleadedwithhim,he’ddoit.
There’saknockonthefrontdoor.Iopenittofindthreemenstandingthereinpristinepoloshirts,embroideredwithValeskaBuildingServices.Iamspeechlesswithpride.Ican’tbelieveIalmostconsideredaskingTomtoruinhislife.He’sworthmorethanoldwallpaper.That’swhatIneedtofocuson:ThisisTom’sbigchance.
Bartender101?Findthealpha.“GirlScoutsagain?Fuckoff.”
Thebaldonelooksbackatthestreet,checkinghehastherighthouse.Theyoungguygrins.Theoldonepurseshislips.Thereheis.
“I’mjustfuckingwithyou.I’mDarcy.Tom’snuderightnow,buthe’llberightwithyou.”
“I’mnotnude,”Tomsnapsinirritation,stridingintotheroom.Helookslikehe’sbeenveryrecentlynude;hishairisamess,andhe’sgotashadowofstubbleandapillowcreaseonhischeek.Howluscious.“Darcy,pleasebehaveyourself.”
Iholdmyhandsup.“IcannotberesponsibleforwhatIsaybeforesixA.M.Andbeforecoffee.Now,payattention.Iwantthisfireplacecaredforlikeitisahumanchild.”Ipatmyhandonthemantelpieceandgointothekitchen.
“Sleepin,boss?”theyoungonesays.Hedoesn’twaitforareplybutfollowsalongbehindme.He’samusclylittlenugget,fullofyouthandmischief.Iwoulddefinitelycardhimatthebar.Maybehe’sanapprentice—thenext-generationTom.Fetch.Pull.Carry.Heleansonthecounter.“Didyousaycoffee?”
“Suredid.Whowantsone?”
“Weneedtogetsomeequipmentunpacked,”Tomsays.
“Acoffeewon’ttakeasecond,”Ireply,pullingdownafewmugsfromtheemptyshelf.IfIknowanythinginthislife,it’sthatpeoplefeelbetteroncethey’vedrunksomeliquid.“IthinkTomneedstwocoffees.”Igrinovermyshoulderathim.IfIcanjustmakethingsfeelfun,hewon’tfeelthatperfectpressuresomuch.
“Unpacktheequipment,”TomsaysinabasstoneI’veneverheardinmylife.It’sthekindofvoicethatshouldbesaying,Onyourknees.Myjointsloosenandmybodyreplies,Okay.
Theyallturnandwalkout.Tomcastsmeadarklookoverhisshoulderashedeparts.Myexhalationintheemptyroomislikeawheeze.ImaginebeingbossedaroundbyTomValeska.Ithinkhe’stheonlymanI’dtrusttodoitrightwithme.
I’vegottostophavingthesethoughts.
“Well,Idon’tknowhow,butI’vefuckedupsomehow,”IsaytoPatty.I’veneverseenTomsodeeplyannoyedwithme.IspoonoutsomebreakfastintoherbowlandfindDianasittingonthewindowsillintheoldlaundryroom.“Wescrewedupyourhouse,didn’twe,lady?”
Dianawon’tturntolookatmeasshestaresoutthecrackedwindow,herfurfluffedupandhertailwrappedaroundhertoes.Ididn’tevenmakesureshehadsomewheretosleeplastnight.Justbecauseshedoesn’tneedme,orlikeme,doesn’tmeanIshouldn’tkeeptrying.Ipickupherstiff,unwillingbodyandcarryherundermyarmdowntomynewbedroom.Ileaveherwithabowlofherfavoritefishbrainsandanapology.
IwonderifTrulywouldlikeacat.
BesidesDiana,themainthingIneedtosortoutismypassport.Ipackedtheentirehousewithmyowntwohands,butitstilldidn’tturnup.Itmakesnosense.Icheckedeverypocket,everybag,everyshoebox.It’sbecomingaveryrealpossibilitythatJamietookitwithhim.I’vetextedhimtwiceaboutit.Zeroreplies.
Imakemycoffeeinmy#1Assholemug,justtoestablishmyself,andwithPattyatmyheelsIgoinsearchoftheguys.Theyareallinthedrive,unloadingpilesofgear.“Areyougoingtointroducemetoeveryone?”Isipmycoffeeandtrytolooknonchalant.
Tomisdraggingladdersoutofthebackofatruck.“Yes,whenwegetthisstuffoutandtheothersturnup.”He’sgotascheduleplannedoutinhishead.
“Here,I’lltakesomething.”
Heregardsmyoutstretchedhandwithfaintdisbeliefonhisbrow.“You’retheclient.”Thenheturnshisbackonme,andhoiststwoladdersononeforearm,andpicksupatoolboxwiththeother.Ican’tevenbegintowonderhowmuchallthatweighs.
“Outoftheway,please,”hesaysandwalksdownthesideofthehouse.Pattyhaswaymoreexperiencethanme,standingatthesideofthepath.Thistimeshe’sabsolutelyjudgingme.
“Excuseus,”thebaldguysays,becauseI’mintheirway,too.Theoldonejusteyeballsme,andmymug.Thenhethinkstohimself,That’saboutright,andsniffs.It’sbeenalongtimesinceI’vefeltthisuseless.HaveIcommittedmyselftoseveralmonthsofbeingineveryone’sway?
“Youcouldtakethis,”theyoungguysays,andIamabsurdlygratefultobetreatedlikeahumanbeing.Hegivesmeaheavyplasticcase.Dignitysomewhatrestored,Ifollowthemdownthesideofthehouse.Pattybringsuptherear.
Isaytotheyoungguy,“Whereareyoustaying?”
“ThemoteloveronFairfax.I’mAlex,bytheway,”hesaysasweroundthecorner.Tomlooksatmycoffee,theChihuahuaatmyheels,andthecaseinmyhand.
“Ijustsaid,she’stheclient,”TomreprimandsAlexinapatientadultvoice.
“I’mtheworker,”Iargueback.“Listenup.I’mpartofthisteamnow.”IlevelastareatTom,buthewon’tlookback.Howismymerepresencealteringhisusualdeepcalm?AmIembarrassinghimorsomething?Irememberhesaidhecan’tfocuswithmehere.Iguesshewastellingthetruth.
“Let’sstartagaineveryone.I’mDarcyBarrett.What’syourname?”
Theoldguyclearshisthroat.“Colin.”
“Ben,”thebaldguysayshastily,likethisisschoolrollcall.BaldBen,Icanrememberthat.
Ipointatthekid.“I’vemetAlex.AndIknowwhothisgrumpyassholeis.Hisname’sonyourshirts.WheredoyouwantPatty?”
“I’llputherinyourbedroom,”Tomsaysshortly.Grumpydoesn’tsuithim.“Moreguyswillstartarriving.Arethosebootssteel-caps?”
“Actually,yes.”
“WhyamInotsurprised?”Tom’sphone,revivedandpluggedintomypowerpack,beginstoring.Judgingfromthedespairinhiseyeshe’sofftoabadstartthismorning.
“Hey.Eyestoyourself,”TomwarnsAlexbeforeansweringhisphone.Alexlookslikeasmackedpuppy.Ashetalksonthephoneaboutadeliverytime,Tomcrossestomeandfussilytucksthestrapofmybraundermytank.Ifeeliteverywhere.It’sthefirstdeliberatephysicalcontacthe’smadewithmesincethatcringeworthymomenthetouchedmyneckandImadeasoundlikeamountainlion.It’samazinghowthemortificationjustneverseemstofade.
“Don’t.”Ishrughimoff.
There’safamiliarshapetoTom’sshouldersnowashepacesoff.Hisbeastisshowing.
Isipslowlyfrommycoffeeandholdeyecontactwiththeoldguy,Colin.Heputsupavalianteffort,butafterthirtyseconds—Icountthem—helooksaway.
Meetyournewalpha,bitch.
“Iwanttotalktoyouthree,”Isayastheybegintoshuffleaftertheirmaster.Timeforsomeabuseofpower.“Astheclient,I’mtheboss,right?”
“Tom’stheboss,”Alexblurts,scaredandwantinghisdaddy,despitehisscolding.
“I’mhisboss.”Theyalllookliketheyfeelthisisbadnews.“Hey,I’mcool.ButI’mnotintobeingbabied,orignored,orsteppedaround.You’reallgoingtotreatmelikeoneoftheteam.Especiallyyou,”IsaytoColin,thesouroldbastard.“Ihavenoexperiencedoingthis,butIhavetwohandsandaheartbeat.Thisismygrandmother’shouse.”
Thisseemstobethemissingpieceofinformation.Theyalldropintomorerelaxedstances.Nowtheforcefulon-siteclientmakessense.
“AreyougoingtoexplainallthistoTom?”Alexsays,hiseyesonTom’sprofile.“Becausehe’sinabadmood.Andhe’sneverinabadmood.”
“Heknowsmewellenoughtoknowthatthisishowit’sgoingtobe.”Itossmyremainingcoffeeintothegardenandputmymugontherailing.“Nowlet’sgetourassestowork.”
WeclomppastTomasateamnow,andIignorehisbeadystarewhenIwalkbackdownwithacrateofelectricalcords.Myheartfeelsfine.I’vesetareminderinmyphonethatsays,MEDICATEYOURSELF,DIPSHIT,andmyalcoholintakehasbeenslashed.
Keepgoing,littleheart,becauseIneedyou.
Wecontinuetounpack.Tomhangsupfromacall.Helookslikehe’sgotacautionorascoldonthetipofhistongue,buthisphonebeginsringingagain.Withafrustratedhuffheanswersit.“Jamie,Ican’ttalk.We’reunpacking.Yes.She’sfine.I’llcallatlunch.”
“Itwouldbekillinghimtonotbehere,”IsaytoTomasIwalkpastwithmoregear.“Ifwe’renotcarefulhe’sgoingtogetonthenextflight.”
TomwincessohardIbethe’sbruisedhimselfinternally.“Thatismynightmarescenario.Canyoupleasejust—”Hecomestotakemyloadfromme,butthephoneringsagain.“TomValeska,”hesaysonasigh.
“…Istotallyfrazzled,”IfinishhissentencetomyselfasIhoistgearontothebackporch.“Seriously,whatisupwithhim?”AlexandIgiveeachotheryeeshlooks.
Morecarsbegintoslotalongthecurbs.I’mreadingpoloshirts:electrician,foundation,roofing,scaffolding,plumbing.Therearecigarettes,takeoutcoffeecups,andmalevoiceseverywhere.
“He’snotenjoyingthis,”BencommentsinahushedtoneaswelookatTom,pacingaroundnow,thephoneathisear.“Aldowasalwaystheoneonthephone.Tom’susedtobeingthemuscle.”
“Andwhatasetofmusclestheyare,”Isayoutloudinreflex.
Colindoesn’tlooksympathetic.“He’sgotafewthingstolearn.Hewantedthis,andhegotit.”HehasanairofItoldyouso.“He’sonhisownnow.”
Thetingeofmutinyinhistonehasmyhacklesup.“He’snotonhisown.He’sgotus.Andanyonewhoisn’tonhissidecangothatway”—Ipointupthesideofthehouse—“andkeepwalking.”
“Darcy,”Tomsaysbehindme,sharpandfrustrated.Fuck,I’mintrouble.“Everyoneintothekitchen,please.”
Igrabmymugandwefilein.TherearepossiblythefirstglimmersofrespectinColin’seyeswhenhelooksatme.Iprivatelybreatheout.I’mluckyhedidn’ttakeupmyoffertowalk.I’dbedeadmeat.
“Canyougetmeoneofthosepoloshirts?”IaskAlex.IwouldloveaValeskashirt.Thereverseimprintofthosestitchesonmyskinwouldfeelbetterthanlingerie.
“Sure,I’vegotaspare.”
Ilookdownatmyowntanktop.Nothingisremotelyamiss,apartfromlacybrastrapspokingout.
Weareallassembledinthekitchen.Ipourmyselfasecondmugofcoffee,andatleasteightsetsofeyeswatchmedoit.Theroomiswarmandspicyfromsomanymenandtheirhideousdeodorants,soIgotoopenthekitchenwindow.Ofcourse,it’sstuck.Thelift-and-jiggletechniquedoesn’twork.Istruggleandyank,rightatcenterstage.Everyonegoessilent.
“Comeon,youmiserablefucker,”Iwhisper,andsomeonelaughs.
“Morning,”Tomsays,andthere’stheboot-scrapingsoundofeveryonestraighteningupandpayingattention.“Thanksforcomingonshortnotice.”
Hepullsupthewindowformewithtwofingers.Lift,jiggle,thelovelyflexofabicep.
Thishousecanbesuchajerktome.
“Myusualcrewishere—Colin,Ben,andAlex.”HepointsatthethreethatIthreatenedwithintenminutesoftheirarrival.“DanandFitzareplumbing.Alanisroofing.Chrisisourelectrician,buthedoesn’tgethereuntilnine.Anyway,we’vegotalottodo,andaprettyblankcanvas.”
Tom’sbiggerthananyguyinhere,frommusclestoheight,andtheyalllooklikestubbled,bloodshotmessesnexttohim.I’mbeginningtothinkhealwayshasthisflawlesssunriseglowonhisskin.
“Who’sthis?”oneguysaysattheback.Hemeansme.
“DarcyBarrett.She’sthehomeowner.”
“I’mthedemolitionsquad.Here’soneIpreparedearlier.”Igesturetotheexposedkitchencabinets.TomkeepslookingatmelikeI’msupposedtomakeaspeech.Arally-the-troopsbattlecall?Ihavenoidea.IwishIhadabarcounterbetweenmeandallthesedicks.
“ThiscottagebelongedtomygrandmotherLoretta.Sheleftittomeandmybrother,Jamie.I’mnotsentimentalaboutmuch,butthishouseisspecialtome.Iknowit’satotaldump,butifyoucouldjustrefrainfromsayingitoverandoverinmyvicinity,thatwouldbegreat.”
Bentakespity.“It’sagreatlittleplace.”
Tomnods.“Whatshe’ssayingis,it’snotjustanyoldhousetous.DarcyandIarestayingon-siteinthebackyard.Anythingbeyondthefishpondisoff-limits.”
Hetakesmymugfrommyhandandtakesaslowsip.Everyguywatcheshimdoit.Theyunderstandwhattheirbossistellingthem.SpeculationisnowinexpressionsandIwiremyjawshuttostopitfromdroppingopen.
“Isthereaninductionchecklistforustosignoff?”Colinprompts.
“What’sthatfor?”Ireply.
“Tomwantstodothingsright,”Colinsays,histonealittledry.“Hesaidhewantedtodoafirstdayinductionchecklistforthecrewtosign.Sowemakesureallworkershavebeenshownwherethefirstaidkitis.Howtoreportanaccident.Whattheproceduresareifthere’safire.Thingslikethat.”
“Oh.Likeaworker’ssafetything.Okay.”IlookupatTom.
“Ah,”Tomsays,andIcanseethespikeofpanicinhiseyes.Heputsthemugbackinmyhandandreachesforhisleatherfolder,jammedfullofcrinkledquotationsandabigsamplesquareofcarpet.IdimlyrecallhisaskingmeifIhaveaprinter.Ithasnoink,likeallhomeprinters.Thiswouldbekillinghim,especiallyafterthelongnightshe’ssatupwithhisspreadsheets.
“You’llgetitfrommebylunchtime,”Isay,coveringforhim.
“Wedon’tgetalunchtime,”aguyreplieswithapinchofsarcasm.
Igivehimmysharksmile.“Iwasreferringtomylunchbreak.Ilookforwardtolearningyourschedulerealgood,buddy.”Hescuffleshisbootsaround,eyesdown.
“Andwhataboutcontractsforthesubbies?Taxforms?”Colinisgenuinelytryingtoeitherhelporundermine.Atthisstage,Ican’tworkitout.Tom’sjawtightens.He’sbeensoabsorbedinorderingtherightnumberofnutsandbolts,he’sforgottenthathe’sabossnow.
IgiveColinaglareandtomysatisfactionhewithersunderneathit.
“I’venevermetsomeonesoobsessedwithpaperwork.WhatdidIjustsay?Lunchtime.”IlooktoTom.“Wedoafullsiteinductionwhentheelectrician’sarrived,right?”Hedoesn’tneedtoknowthatI’vegotaHouseRenovationsforDummiesbookonmynightstand.
Tomnods,hisexpressiontight.“Waterandpowerwillbeoffformostofthemorning.Porta-Pottiesarebeingdeliveredinthenexthourorso,soholdon.Onemen’sandoneladies’.”
“Hespoilsyou,Darcy,”Alexbooms.“Justwaituntilanhourafterlunchandyouseethequeue.”There’sgrossed-outlaughter.
Tom’swrappingitup.“I’llcomeandgiveeachofyouyourjobsfortoday.Startunpackingbutstayoutofthehouseuntilseven.Darcy’stakingsomephotosforme.Thenwe’lldoinduction.”
Theguysbegintroopingoutofthehouse,handsalloverit.Toesnudgingskirtingboardsandhandstestingdoorframes.
Irinsemymug.“Whatdoyouwantphotosfor?”
There’ssomuchenergyshimmeringinTomrightnowashestaresdownatme.Hisphonerings,andherejectsthecall.Maybehe’sabouttosay,Thankyousomuch.MaybeI’manidiotoptimist.
“Doyouwanttotellmewhatthehellthatwas?”Chapter12
Idrythemug.“Isavedyourass.You’rewelcome.”
He’sincredulous.“Ididn’tneedyoutosaveme.”
“Lookedlikeittome.You’dstillbetuckedupasleepifitwasn’tforgoodoldDB.”Alexwasright.Tom’sneverinamoodlikethis.“YouneedtoshutthatoldguyColindown.He’stryingtoundermineyou.”
Tom’shandisonhishipnow.“Youwanttotellmeaboutundermining.Right.Whatthehelldoyouthinkyoujustdid?”
“Youstartedtodrownalittle.Ijustpulledyouup.”Iwalkdowntomystudio,agrouchyshadowatmyheels.“Ijustseewhereyouneedhelp.”
“DidIactuallyhearyouthreatentofireColin?”
IstepoverPatty’swelcomedanceandpickupmycamera.“Heneededtoberemindedwhosenameisonhisshirt.Trustmeonthat.”Doesn’theknowthatIamalwaysTeamValeska?
“Colin’sdonethisforever.Ireallyneedhimon-site.”Hisphoneringsagain.Heanswersit.“CanIcallyouback?Oneminute.Thanks.”
“You’rebeingsuchajerk.Pleasedon’tletthischangeus.”Imeantherenovation,butmyvoicebreaksalittle.I’vebeenawreckoverwhatIdid.Myoverlyhonestgetinmehasturnedintogetawayfromme.“I’msorry.I’mreallysorry.”
“Ithinkit’stoolate.It’schanged.”Heputsahandintohishair.“I’mbeingajerkbecauseI’mstressed,andI’vegotyouwalkingaroundinthemiddleofeverything.”
“Ignoreme.”
“You’rerealhardtoignore.”Helookssidewaysatthehouse,eyebrowspullingdown.“Okay,here’swherewe’reat.I’mattemptingthefirstdayofwhatshouldbetherestofmycareer,andIcan’tfocusonit.”
“Becauseyouwanttoputmeagainstawallandkissme.”I’mtauntingthatthinginsidehimthatalwaysrespondstome.Itprotectsmeandhuntsme.“Andyou’ddoitinfrontofeveryonehere.Youlikehavingkeysinyourpocket.It’swhatyourwholelifeisabout.Youwanttobetheonlyonewithakeytome.”Icounthisbreaths.“AmIright?”
“Iamnotgoingtoanswerthat.”Hisbodyanswersanyway;ashruggingofhisentirebody,likesomethingisdroppingdownontohim.Helookssodesperatethatregretfillsme.WhathaveIdonetohim?IlovehisinneranimalsomuchthatI’mstoppinghimfromturningbackintothecalm,controlledversionheneedstobe.
IthinkIdoanidenticalshudder-shrug.Getyourselfbackonyourleash,DB.“WhatamIphotographing?”
“Everything,”Tomsays,raspy.“Iwantyoutophotographeverything.”Hepropelsmeupthebackstairswithahandonmywaistband.
“Forwhatpurpose?”
“Twopurposes.TokeepJamieintheloop,becauseifwedon’t,he’scomingdownhere.”Hepositionsmeatthedoorwayofthehall.“AndIneedcontentformywebsite.Abefore-and-aftersection.Luckyforme,I’vegotaprofessionalphotographerrightonhand.”
Idon’treallycareforhowheputalittlesarcasmonprofessional.Ireallyscrewedupjustnowinfrontofhiscrew.
“Howmanytimesinmylifehaveyourescuedme?Ican’tevencount.Iwillalwaysdothesameforyou.IwillnotstandthereandsaynothingwhenIcouldstepinandhelp.It’swhatwedoforeachother.”
Heblinks,tryingtounderstand.“Noonedoesthatforme.”
“Idoit.”
“HowcanIexplainthisinawayyou’llunderstand?”Tomstepsagainstmybackandreachesaroundme.Hisfingersslidebetweenmineandheraisesmyhandsupuntilthecameraisroughlyinlinewithmyeyes.
“Canyoudoyourjoblikethis?”WhenIlineuptheviewfinderonthehall,hemovesourhands.Isnapashotthatis,ofcourse,garbage.
Itrytoshrughimoff;hestepscloser,droppinghismouthtothesideofmyneck.Thatmouththatsippedfrommymug,tellingeverymaleintheroomthatI’moff-limitsanduntouchable.He’sstilltoofarintothedarkforestplaceweplayin.Hebreathesmein.Ifeelthebriefestscrapeofhisstubbleonthecurveofmyshoulderandthemostintriguinghardpressonmybutt.Ifeellikeananimalabouttobebitten,softandslow,byitsmate.Maybehe’ddoithardenoughtoleaveamark.Whenhefinallyreleasesthebreathhe’sbeenholding,hisheavenlywarmairgoesdowntheneckofmytop.
Hesays,“There’ssomanythingsI’ddo,ifIcould.”
“Well,seemspointlesstotellmeaboutthem.”Ibumphimoff.
TomValeskaisafuckingliar.Hedoeswantme.Hejustdoesn’thavetheguts.Inmypulsepoints,I’mnothingbutMorsecode:bed,bed,bed.AndI’mdisappointedinhislackoffaithinme.NoonecouldpossiblysucceedwithmessyDarcyBarrettaround.That’swhatI’vebeenmywholelife,right?Acomplication.
HeputsanotherwobbleintothecameraasItrytotakeashot.“Thisishowharditisformetodoanythingwithyouhere.”Abovemyear,hisvoicedropstoagrowl.“Thishouse?Thisrenovation?It’swhatIdo.Don’tstepinagainlikethat.”
“Getawayfromme.Safer,remember?”Isoundbitter.
“Oh,you’restillonthat?”Tom’sphoneringsagain.I’mreadytotossthatthingintoanactivevolcano.“Idon’tthinkyoufullygotwhatImeant.”
“OfcourseIdid,I’mnotstupid,”Isnap,andforcemyentirefocusthroughtheviewfinder.
“Iwasjust…”There’sapausesolongIthinkhe’sleft.Itakeafewshots.“Surprised.Ididn’tknowthat’swhatyouthoughtofme.”
“Youweren’tsurprised,youweretraumatized.Iheardyou,loudandclear.Fromthispointon,we’regoingtoignorethisthingbetweenus.We’llgetourselvesasoldsignandwewillseeeachotheratChristmas.Maybe.There’safestivalinKoreaaroundthattimethat’salwaysinterestedme.”
“Couldyoutellmewhyyoudidit?”Ihearthefloorboardsunderhisfeetcreak.“Wereyoulonely?Mad?Tryingtogetbackatmeforsomething?”Hehasn’treachedtheconclusionthatIwanthisbodyandhispleasure,morethanIwantwaterandfood.
“I’mnottellingyouadamnthing,”Ireply,becauseIknowthat’swhatwillannoyhimthemost.“I’lltellyouoneday,whenwe’reeightyyearsold.”
Iclickthecameraandlookatthedisplay.It’shardtoarguewithreality,andhereitis.Thisroom—andthispotentialrelationshipwithTom—isnottheflower-wallpaperedversionI’vebeencarryingaroundinmyhead.Thishouseisnolongerbeautiful,andTomhasrecededoutofreach.I’mdowntozero.
Hisphonebeginsringingagain.“I’vegottogetthis.”Hestartstowalk,butIstophim.
“Whatyoudidbefore,inthekitchen?”Isnapacouplemoreframes.“Withmycoffee?Don’tdothatshitagain.”
“WhatdidIdo?”Helooksupfromtheringingphone,histhumbhovering.Hisbrowiscreased.Heseriouslydoesn’tremember.
“Youtookabigslurpfrommymug.Nowyourboysarelookingatuslikewe’re…”Ican’tfinish.
Tomhasthegoodgracetolookembarrassed.“Iguessnotallsledgehammersarecreatedequal.”Heanswersthephone.“TomValeska.”
Ishouldgetoutofhereanddomyjob.Ishouldbetakingadvantageofthestrawberry-sundaelight.
Igodowntothefishpondandholdthecamerauptomyeye.Ihaven’ttakenanoutdoorphotoinprobablyayear,anditdoesn’thelpthatmyhandsareshaking.Whatthehelljusthappened?
“Idon’tknowwhattoshoot,”Isaytonooneinparticular.AtightfeelingisinmychestnowthatI’malone.Takingphotosofthishouse?It’stooreal.ThesearephotographsofsomethingI’mgoingtolose.
Iwantmywhitelightboxandmugs.
“Shooteverything,”aguynearmesays,unfoldingametaltable.Heliftsacircularsawontoitwithagrunt.“Becauseeverything’sgoingtochange.”
Iwalkaroundtheoutsideofthehouse.“Justtrytotakeone,”Iwhispertomyself.Thefirstclickisthehardest,andIbarelylookthroughthelens
Itakerealestateshots,coachingmyselfthroughit,butbeforelong,I’veloosenedupenoughthatIcanpickoutthelittledetails.Justforme,soIcanhavethemforever.Ileanagainstthefenceandshootupatthecrookedweathervane,toppedwithagallopinghorse,thathasn’tspuninyears.
Thisisn’twhatTomhadinmind,butIshootthemossandivyclingingonthesideofthewall,andthewaythehoneysucklehangslow,dustingeverythingwithyellowpowder.I’mphotographingthishouselikeit’sabride.AsmuchasIachetohaveitstandinthefrozenfairy-taleclaspofrosesforever,Iknowit’stimetoletitgo.TheonlywaythatIcanisbecauseit’snowinTom’scare.
Inside,timeisrunningout,soIclickandreposition,zoominginonindividualhydrangeasinthewallpaper.Iprobablylookinsane,butItakeashotofthetileLorettareplacedinthebathroom—onesalmon-pinksquareinaseaofcrackedbuttermilkrelics.
I’mchasingtheclock,andguysaresteppingoutofmyway,fallingrespectfullysilentasIstepbackandtakeaportraitofthefireplace.Iwillnotletsomuchasasheetofsandpapertouchthismantelpiece.
Whydidn’tIdothisearlier?Whydidn’tItakedays,recordingandarchivingthesememoriesIhave?Itrulyforgotthatthiswasaskillofmine,somethingthatcouldbeusedforapurposeotherthanapaycheck.
Abangingsoundbegins,liketheoutsideworldistryingtobreakin.
IthinkItakemorethantwentyminutesandI’malittledrained.Ireallywanttoloadtheseintomycomputer.Ilookatthetime.Iwasimmerseduptomyneckinastateofcreativeflowforanhour.Itookovertwohundredphotos.Howdidthathappen?
IlookupinastonishmentandmakeeyecontactwithTom.Iwonderifheevenhasawebsite.
Hedoesn’tsmile,butIcantellhe’spleasedwithme.Maybeallisnotlost.
“Goodwork,Darce.Nowgetglovesonandgettowork.”
***
I’MWILTEDWITHtirednessandit’sonlyWednesday.Threemoremonthsofthis?Steppingoutoftheway,trippingoverpowercords,andbeingcoveredindust?Ihadabarshiftthrowninlastnightforgoodmeasure,andjustfinishedaphotoshootforTruly.IthinkIneedtogotobedatsixP.M.tonight.
I’msortingthroughphotosofbuttsinunderwearwhenJamiecalls.Foronce,it’smeansweringthephonewithmyheartinmythroat.Ishedead-dying-drowning?Surelyit’dtakeanemergencyforhimtocallafterthislong.
“What’sup?”HowcoolIsound.
“VoicemailDarcyispickingupherphoneforonceinherlife.That’swhat’sup.”
Evenwhenmyphoneisn’tinurine,I’mnotagreatphoneanswerer.Mostpeoplelovetheirphonelikeababy,butIwouldhaveleftmineonthechurchstairs.
“There’safirsttimeforeverything.”
Jamiedecideshowtoproceedforasecond.“Iknowsomething.”
“Thatmustfeelextraordinary,”Ireply,andcontinuescrollingthroughthephotosI’vejusttaken.“You’dbetterletyouremployerknow.They’llbesogladtheytookachanceonyou.”Igrinashissighpartiallydeafensme
“How’stheprogressonsite?”
I’mnothisemployee.“IbetyoufeellikeIoncedid.ThosesummersIwatchedyouandTommowingalltheneighborslawns,rakinginthecash.”
“Wesweatedforthat.Weworkedlikemules.Begladyousatinsideintheair-conditioning.”
“Iwantedtodowhatyouguysdid,butIhadtowatchfromthewindow.Justlikeyou’redoing,rightnow.”Idon’tholdmuchhopethathe’llunderstandwhatI’mtellinghim,orwhyitfeelssoimportantthatIseethisthrough.“Therenovationisfine.TomandIaremakingsureofit.”
“Iknowthatyouknow.AboutTomandMegan.”
“Oh,that.Sure.”Iclickanddropafile.“We’rebuds.Hetellsmestuff.”
That’sabitofastretch.I’mpermanentlyscrewingthingsuparoundhere
“Sure,”Jamiesays,drippingsarcasm.“Buthere’sthething.You’releavinghimalone.”
“Whatdoyou—”
“Cuttheshit.Whenhe’sinthesameroomyou’readroolingmess.Like,foryears,andit’spainfullyobvious.That’swhyhetriedtonottellyou.”JamieconfirmswhatIhadjuststartedtohopewasapatheticmisunderstandingonmypart.“He’sembarrassedtobearoundyou.He’snevergoingtoreciprocate.”
OnlyJamiecouldmakeawordlikereciprocatesoundlikehe’sholdingaturdwithapairofsaladtongs.
“‘Droolingmess’isabitofanexaggeration.Butyeah,he’sgorgeous.Myeyeslikegorgeousthings.I’maphotographer.”Ihatehearingmyownvoicebeingsoflippant.DiminishingTomdowntoafaceandbodyfeelswrong.“Don’tyougoforbeautifulwomen?”
“Igoforwomeninmyleague,”Jamiesaysforcefully,“andIdon’tgoforchildhoodfriends.”Helaughsalittle.“Ican’tbelieveweactuallyhavetohavethisconversation.Youandhim?Neverhappening.”Apause.“Soyou’vedecidedyou’reaphotographeragain?”
I’mnottouchingthatone.“Hetoldmeitwascompletelyoverwithher.Heseemssurprisinglyokayaboutit.”
“He’sdevastated.Didyouknowthat?”
Mystomachtwistsup.Ididn’texactlytrytolistenbeforeIbegantearingtheworldapartwithmybarehands.
Jamiecontinues.“He’sbeentryingtofindatimetomeetupwithhertotalkitthroughandgetbacktogether.Butyouwouldn’tknowthat,’causehe’snotyourbud,andyouneverstopthinkingaboutyourself.”
“Youareweirdlypossessiveoveryourchildhoodfriend.Somethingyouneedtotellme?”Thethoughthascrossedmymindonceortwice.
Jamiedoesn’ttakethebait.“Thatguyhashadmybackprobablyathousandtimesbynow.Nowit’smyturn.Iwanttomakesurehegetsthefuturehedeserves.”
“Youshouldbeamotivationalspeaker,Jamie.I’minspired.He’salreadygothisbusiness.Hisdream.Hegotit.”
“That’sonlyphaseone.Tomwantstherealdeal.Ahouse,apicketfence,awedding.TakingtripletstoDisneyorsomeshitlikethat.Haven’tyouevernoticedhisobsessionwithtakingcareofthingsandfixingthem?We’renotgettingyounger.Darce,he’sahusbandandadad.”
Goddamnit,Ihatewhenmybrotherisright.Idon’tsayanything.
JamiesensesI’veunderstoodwhathe’ssaying,andhisnextharshsentenceisspokenwithunbearablekindness.“That’swhathewants.Tobethedadheneverhad.Hewantsawifeandtomakesurehismomissortedout.Notaone-nightstandwiththequeenofone-nights.”
“MaybeIwant…”Itrailoff.Ineverthoughtaboutitbefore.ThosesortsofthingsareforMegan-typegirls.
“Notwithhimyoudon’t.Meganhasn’tgiventheringback.Hedoesn’twantitback.Connectthedots,Darcy.”
Ifeellikethrowingup.“Okay,Igetit.”
“Ifyoumakehimgetallwrappedupinyourdramaandgetalittlecrushonyou,onlyforyoutoleave?Justlikewhenwewereeighteen?Iwillneverspeaktoyouagain.”
Ishouldn’tbesurprisedthatJamieknowsaboutthis.ButIamanyway.“Thatwascomplicated.”
“Thatwassomethingthatshouldhavebeenano-brainerandyoublewit.Justlikethedeveloper’sofferonthehouse.”Jamiesays“Oneminute”tosomeoneinhisoffice,thensaystome,“I’vegotsomeoneon-sitekeepinganeyeonyou.”
“Colin.”Hisnameisoutofmymouthlikeacurse.
“Maybe.Maybenot.”
“Proveit.”
“Youdroppedanailgunyesterdayandbrokeit.I’vegottogonow.Funny.You’reusuallytheonesayingthat.”Hehangsup,andIputmyheadinmyhands.
Ofcoursehe’sgoingbacktoMegan.Whywouldn’the?He’sgotanentirelifebuilt,painstakingly,overeightyears.Hejustneedstowalkbacktoitandflickonthelightsandscrewthehousenumberontheletterbox.
Afteraminute,mydoorslidesopenandIhearthetinkofPatty’snametag.Forthefirsttimeinmylife,IwishTomwouldturnaroundandwalkaway.
“Oh,great,whathaveIdonethistime?”IknowwhatIdid.Iblewit.
Tomsitsheavilydownonthecomputerchairbehindmewithatiredgroan.“Whatmakesyouthinkyou’vedonesomethingwrong?”
“YouonlytalktomewhenIhave.”Ismoothmyhandsovermyface.Ishouldn’tbeajerk.He’sgotnoanimosityinhimasheslumps.He’ssotiredIfeelsad.Besideme,mywhitebackdropisstillupandtherearerobesandUnderswearssamplesallovermybed.Maybewecanstartoverforthetenthtime.Let’stry.
“Justspokewithmybrotherdearest.”
“Whatdidhewant?”
“Justtothreatenmeaboutbehavingmyselfandtoremindmeofmyfailures.”That’sthetop-leveltruth.
“He’ssohardonyou.”TomisfarmoreempatheticthanIdeserve.“Well,keepsendinghimtheprogressphotosandwewon’tgetasurprisevisit.”Tomswivelshischairgently,sidetoside.“Theonesyoutookonthefirstdaywereinsanelygood.Youknowthat,right?Gladtoseethatagain.”Henodsatthewhitebackdrop,setupagainstthefreesectionofwallbythedoor.
“Everyonehasacameraintheirpocketthesedays.I’mobsolete.”Ihaven’thadenoughtimetopackdowntheemotionsJamiehasjuststirredup.Tom’swalkedinherewithawhiteflag.Ishouldmakethemostofit.Butit’shard,copingwiththesetwoextremesbetweenus.Imakemyselfbegratefulforthequietandthecivil,butIknowwhatIwant
Icravehislustlikeadrug.
Let’sfindareallyciviltopic.“How’syourmomdoing?”
Tomgroan-sighs.“She’sstressingmeout.No.Herlandlordisstressingmeout.There’ssomeoneyoucangobeatupforme.”
Tom’smom,Fiona,isasweet,spaceyladywhoalwaysseemstobeamidsomekindoflow-levelcrisis.She’sapotpermanentlysimmering,andifTomtakeshiseyeoffhertoolongthesmokedetectorgoesoff.I’dliketosaythiswasarecentthing,buthe’sbeentryingtotakecareofherhiswholelife.IsometimeswonderwhatTom’sdadmusthavebeenlike.I’venevermethim,andIdon’tthinkTomhaseither.Hemustbebigandhandsome.Andatotalpieceofshit,obviously.
“Can’tshemoveout?”Iask.
“Shefoundapregnantcatlastyearandcouldn’tbeartorehomethekittens.They’reallblackandwhite.Ihavenoideahowshetellsthemapart.”Herubstheheelofhispalmonhiseyes.“Herlandlordtoldmeshecouldhaveonecat.Shehasn’tfilledhiminyetthatonehasbecomesix.Herhotwaterisplayingup,andhe’snotreturningmycalls.”
“Buysixcats,gettheseventhcatfree?”IpointupatDiana’sbed.
“Don’teventhinkaboutit.ThenextplaceIcarryherboxesintoisgonnabethelasthousesheeverhastolivein.Ican’tmoveheragain.Idon’thaveitinme.ApicketfenceiswhatIpromisedher.”Tomlookstenyearsolderinaninstant.
Atthisrate,apicketfencepalingwillbemytombstone.“Isthatwhatyou’resavingfor?”
Hespeakslikehehasn’theardmeinthecrystal-quietroom.“Theguyskeepaskingwhereyouare.Well,Alexmainly.Yourpuppydogdoesn’tknowwhattodowithhimself.”Hiseyessharpenonmine,watchingformyreaction.
EveryatominmybodyknowsthatTomwantstoseeindifference.Ilookbackatmycomputerandshrug.“Littleturdhasgottenlonelywithoutmekickinghisass,huh?”
“Hetoldmethingsarefunwithyouaround.He’sgoingtogetthewrongideaifyoukeepleaningonhim.Hedoesn’tknowwhatyou’relike.”
“Idon’tlean,”Iretort,thenIremembermyshoulderpressingonsomethingwarm.MeandAlexleaningtogetherwatchinganexcavatorbeingunloadedoutfront.“Oh,Ididleanabit.”
“Heworshipsyou.”Tomhasaffectioninhisvoiceasheglancesupatthehouse.“Heremindsmesomuchofmyselfatthatage.”
“Worshippingme?”IaccidentallydefyJamie’sdirectorderandimmediatelyglossoverit.“Well,that’scute.TheoneIreallywanttoworshipmeisthatoldbastardColin.Iwanthimtokissmybootsbytheendofthis.”
“ShouldIbejealous?”Tomanswershisphone.“Hi.Yes,dropthemaround.Beforefour.”Hehangsup.Thisiswhatourconversationsarelikelately.Everythingisinterruptedbythatgoddamnphone.Idon’tknowhowhe’skeepingittogether.
“Jealousornot,ithasnothingtodowithme.”
“Iforgot,Ididcomeinheretoyellatyou.Whowerethey?”Tommeansthegirlswholefttwentyminutesago.“Youcan’tjustletpeoplewalkthroughabuildingsite.”
“Theyweremodels.”Iclickthroughtheimages.“IjustdidashootforTruly.Funny,Tom.Lasttimewehadaproperexchange,Igottheimpressionthatyouneededmetostayoutofyourhair.Andyet,hereyouare.”
“Thisismysiteandyou’redoingaphotoshootinthemiddleofit.”Tomleanssidewaystolookatthecomputer.He’slip-pursedMr.Perfect.“Youshouldhavetoldme.There’ssafetyissueswithpeopleon-sitewhoaren’tinducted.Iftheyhurtthemselves—”
“Okay,Iscrewedupagain.Don’tgetgrouchy,orImightnotgiveyouyourpresent.”
“Apresent?”Behindme,thecomputerchairsqueaks.
“Doyoudeserveone?”I’mstalling,becauseIdon’tknowhowhe’llreceivethistinyolivebranch.It’sbeenmadeabundantlyclearthathedoesn’tneedorwantmyhelp.
“Ihadtogetadeadratoutofthewallcavityinthekitchen.Idodeserveapresent.”
“DeadratsareAlex’sjob.You’reabossnow.”Iclickthroughmyphotofiles,tryingtofeignnonchalance.“You’resittingonyourpresent.Imadeyouadesk.Inoticedit’sgettingharderforyoutoworkinside.”
Thisismywayofapologizingforputtingacoffeeringonafairlyimportantreportforthecounty.“AndthatapplecratedownthereisforPatty.”
Tomswivelsandlooksatthedeskagain.It’sjusttheoldkitchentable,alamp,andajarofpens,butherunshishandsonthetabletopinalustfulway.“Iwasjustabouttostartworkingoutofmycar.”Heflipsthelampon.“Thanks,Darce.”
“I’mnottryingtolureyouinhereforanynefariouspurpose.”Ugh,whydidIsaythat?Iswivelaroundonmystoolinawaythatprobablylooksominous.
Tomignoresmyblunder.“Oh,I’mluredallright.”Hegetsupandleaves,appearingagainwithhislaptopandabulgingfolder.Businesscardsfluttermothlikeinhiswake.“ThereisnowayI’mpassingupadesk.”
Heleavesasecondtime,returningwithanarmfulofsamples:tiles,carpets,laminates.PattyhopsintohernewbedandwatchesTom,herbigbugeyeslitwiththeirusualworship.
I’mrighttherewithyou,Patty.IthinkIcouldsithereandwatchhimforhours,stackingbathroomtileswiththatserioustilttohishead.Healwayswaslikethis:atidyboywithastraightspineandaneatdesk.
Scratchthat.Fast-forwardthings.
Icouldsithereandwatchthisgorgeousmanforever,theglintsinhishairandthosebigcarefulhands.Thelamplightpoolsinthosebrowneyesandturnsthemtohoney.Hebreathes,evenandeasy,underthelead-grayweightofmystare,andmakesthreepilesofpaperwork.
Hefindstheoldtrashcanunderhisdeskwiththetoeofhisshoeandsmilestohimself.
“Youthoughtofeverything,DarcyBarrett,”hesaystomewithoutlookingover,andIrealizehehasalwaysbeenawareofmystaring,dazzledbythelightshiningthroughhim.He’sprobablyfeltthisstareformostofhislife.Iamintenselygratefulforhowhe’serasingthatonemomentofinsanityinthekitchen.
I’mnotgoingtolosehim.IfIjuststaylaser-focusedandcareful,wecanwalkoutofthesethreemonthsasfriendsandpartwithahandshake.
IfIcankeepmymouthshutandnotsaythingslike,Getinme
“Thisisreallygoingtohelp.Icangetorganized.”Rightoncue,hisphonerings,andhegrabsatapen.
Ashewriteshimselfanoteandlooksupatthehouse,bitinghislip,thoughtfulandlovely,Ithinkabouthowmuchheneedstogetinme.Andnotjustintomybody.Iwantmorethanthat.Iwanthimtogetinmyhead.Ithinkthat’swhatImeant.
Unzipme,climbintome,don’tcomeout.
Whenhehangsupandlooksoveratme,IpretendIwasjustlookingupatthehouse.
“It’sgettinghardtothinkinthereduringtheday.”
“Twelveweeksisacrazytimeframe,”hesayswithapologyinhisvoice.Helooksbackaroundatmyroomandsmiles.“Ifeelbetteraboutyoubeinginherenow.Verycozy.”Helooksdownthelongnarrowspace.Itonlytakesupaquarterofthefloorspace,buttheroomfeelslikeitisbrimmingfullofbed.
Iturnbacktomylaptop.
“I’msnugasabug.Sorry,butTruly’sgotameetingwithabrandconsultantandshehastohavealookbooktoshowthem.She’sgoingtobeturningupanysecond,saying,Hi,aretheydone?So,offyougo.”
“Ihaven’tseenherforyears.Howisshe?”
“Fuckingadorableasusual.”IscrollandtrytosquashdownthepanicwhenIlookattheclock.“ShethinksIhavewaymoregraphicdesignskillsthanIdo.”
“That’sabig-dealmeetingforher,isn’tit?SotheseareUnderswears.”Heamblesovertomyworkbenchandlaughs.“Whowearstheworddipshitaroundontheirbutt?”
Iprickleupdefensively.“Ido,everydayoftheyear.Bestunderwearonearth.”
“I’mgoingtobeintriguedaboutwhatyourssay,everydayoftheyear.”
“Youcouldn’thandlewhat’swrittenonmyunderwear.”It’shardtoignorehimwhenhe’sleaningagainstthebench,probablylookingdownatthebackofmyneck.Icanfeelthewarmthofhisbody,andoutofthecornerofmyeyeIseethathisT-shirtislayeredacrosshisabdomenlikefondanticing.
Hemakesitharderwhenheliftsahandandtouchesmyskin.
Chapter13
Doyoudoallthisforfree?”Hetouchesmyshoulderandpullsmytankstrapbackintoposition.Itimmediatelyslipsbackoffandhisdefeatedsighgustsacrossmyskin.“Juststaythere,”hesaystomytankinirritation.
“Igetpaidinunderwearandcandy.Inthiseconomicclimate,alternatecurrenciesarerequired.JamiewouldlecturemeaboutchargingwhatI’mworth.Butwhocares.IfthisishowIcanhelpher,thenI’mdoingit.”
“You’reagoodfriend,”TomsayswithsuchadmirationinhisvoicethatIlookup,startled.“You’resogenerous,Darce.”
“Oh,sure.”Ilookbackatmyscreen.Thisisgettingtoohard.Hepullsmeclosewithfang-and-clawintensity,thenexpectsmetositherelikeasister.I’makitchen-trashingpsycho,butatleastIknowit,andI’mconsistent.
TheproblemwithTomisthathedoesn’tknowwhatheis.Notreally.Thequestion,whodoyouthinkyouarewouldbereallyinterestingtoaskhim,becauseIknowhe’dgettheanswerwrong.
“Iwantyoutoknow,whenIwasgoingtorenovatethehouseunderAldo’sbusiness,Iwasplanningondoingitforfree.”Iseehisbigfingerstwisttogetheroutofthecornerofmyeye.“Ifeelrealbadabouttakingthefivepercent.”
“You’rewortheverypenny,”Itellhim,justlikemymomusedto.“Don’tsweatit,Tiger.”ItackonDad’snicknameforgoodmeasure.Still,thereminderofmyparentsdoesn’twork.Hedoesn’trecoilawayfrommelikeIthoughthemight.“Doyouneedtogetbacktowork?”
Heconfides,alittleplayful,“Idon’twanttogobackoutthere.Alexisright.Thingsarealwaysmoreinterestingwhereyouare.”
“I’msure,”Isay,becausemyscreenhasabacksideonit.ButwhenIlookup,he’slookingatme,andhehassoftnessinhiseyes.
“I’vebeenreallyhardonyoulately.I’msorry.”Herejectsanincomingcallwithapracticedmotion.“I’msorryforeverything.Canwebeokaynow?”Hisphoneringsagain.Heneedsme.Iknowit.
“Allyouhavetodoisaskme.”Icanseehedoesn’tknowwhatImean.Instead,hiseyesdroptomymouth.MypulsebumpsandIrushtoclarify.“Askmetohelpyou.”
“Howcouldyouhelpme?”Nowhe’slookingintomyeyes,andthere’sthatwarmbuzzsensation.Theroomgetssmaller.We’reshrink-wrappedtogetherbywallsandair,andIcannotstopmyself.Iputmyhandonhisforearm,justtofeelhisskin.
“IwillhelpyouhoweverIcan.”Isqueeze,andIfeelhismusclessqueezeback.Abovemyeyeline,Iseehimswallow.“Iwillbreakmygoddamnbackforyou.”
Hetakesmyhandsinhis.Thisisanimportantthinghewantstosay.“Yeah,Iknow.Butit’sreallyimportanttomethatIdothisonmyown.”
Colin’swordsechobacktome,andagainIflareupinside.“You’renevergoingtobeonyourown.I’mhere.I’mwithyou.”
Helooksatmygrowlylittlefacewithanewrealizationinhiseyes.“Yeah.Youare.”Helookssidewaysatmybenchandnoticessomethingamongthemess.TheonethingIwashopinghewouldn’t.“Passportapplication?”Hereleasesmyhands.
“Iconcededefeat.Jamiemusthavetakenit.Butitmakesnosense.IknowIhaditafterheleft.Icheckedtheexpirationdateforsomething.IwonderifVincesolditontheblackmarket.”Ilaugh,haha,soheknowsthatwasajoke.
Hedoesn’tfindthatfunny.“You’regoingtogetalotofmoneywhenthehousesells.You’llnevercomeback.”
Trulyslidesopenthedoor.“Hi,aretheydone?Anoldmanatthehousejustyelledatme.”Shenoticeshowclosewe’restandingandfalters.
“Hi.”Tomsmiles,andit’slovelyenoughtomakemewanttoshredthatpassportapplicationandflush.“Colin’sright.Youcan’twalkthroughhereanymore.”
TrulylookshimupanddownwithfrankappreciationandIcannotblameher.
He’sglorious,fromthetopofhisheadtothesolesofhisboots.He’sabig,glowing,muscledmiracle,andasthesilencestretcheson,hisbrowcreasesinpuzzlement.Hehasn’tlookedinamirrorinawhile.
Trulyrebootsherbrain.“Wowee,lookatyou!Somuscly!HaveyouburiedthehatchetwithDarce?”
“Iwasjustintheprocessofdoingthat,”Tomreplies.Hisphonebuzzesonandon.Helooksatitwithawearyexpression.Iknowfrompersonalexperiencethatoncethevoicemailsbeginbuildingup,checkingthemfeelslikeshovelinginasnowstorm.
HejamsitbackinhispocketandfocusesonTruly.“Howareyou?”Theyembracetentatively,Truly’sfacemakinganexaggeratedeyebrow-raisedohofpleasureatmeoverthecurveofhisbicep.
“That’smadethetripworthwhile,Ibet,”Isay,soundingextremelybitter.“NotthatI’mjealous,buthugsarefewandfarbetweenaroundtheseparts.”Ihunchoverthelaptoplikeagargoyleandbegintoedit.SinceTom’sfull-bodyhuginthekitchen,I’vebeenbrittleandcold.
“Aw,”Trulycroons,andcomestome,wrappingherarmsaroundmyshouldersfrombehind.Herhugsareheaven.Iwishthey’dbothhugmeatonce.“Tom,youknowwhatourDarceislike.She’slikeaTamagotchi.”
“I’madigitalpet.Soundsaboutright.”Ileanbackagainstherandclosemyeyes.Werestourtemplestogether,andjustinthismoment,I’mcrystalclearontheinside.
Tomresumeshisbenchleaning.“Iknowexactlywhatshe’slike.”
“Sheneedscuddlesmorethanshewilleveradmit,”Trulysays,huggingmetighter,“andshedieswithoutthem.”Shereleasesmewithakissonmycheek.“Oh,andcandy,obviously.Sherunsonalldifferentcolorsofsugar.”Shebeginsunpackingbagsofcandynexttome.
“Ialmostfeellikeyou’rebutteringmeupforsomething.”Igrabthenearestbagandtearitopenwithmyteeth.
TomgrinsatTruly.“She’sananimal,isn’tshe?”
Trulyholdsupapackathim.“Youcanhavethese,ifyoutellmethatyou’vemadeherfeelbetter,becauseIknowshetriesherpoorlittleheartoutforyou.”
That’sanicewayofsaying,Darcycomplainstomeconstantlyabouteveryblisterandfuckup.
Mystoolisturned,I’mpulledtomyfeet,andTomslowly,deliberatelysqueezesmeagainsthisbody.“Iamthrowingmyselfatherfeet.Everyminuteofeveryday.Shejustdoesn’tnotice.”
HishandcupsthebackofmyheadandmyentireworldishismusclesandthesmellofhisT-shirt.Thewax-sweetsmellofbirthdaycandlesandwishesandugh,it’sgoingtohurtwhenheletsmego.Takewhatyoucanget,DB.You’reluckyheevenwantstospeaktoyouagain.
I’msqueezeduntilI’vegotnoair,thendepositedbackonmystool.Ineedthatagain,evenlongerandslower.Maybeamonthofit.IshouldsaysomethingbutIcan’t.Trulyhandsoverhisconfectionarypaymentwithoutcomment,hereyesamusedassheglancesatmyface.
Heusesapairofscissorsfromhisnewdesk.Nowildgnawing.Socivilized.“How’sbusiness?Istheregoodmoneyinunderwear?”
Hetipsafewintohispalm;succulent,delicious,andpink,andIwantthem.I’mdroolingfortheflavorinhismouth.Aguyfromthecrewcallshisnameoutside,thebleatofalambwithnoshepherd.
“Yes,weirdly.I’mloaded.”Trulyrummagesinherpurse.“IactuallybroughtapresentforDarce.Takealook.”
ShehandsTomapairofUnderswears—thestripednauticalonesfromherlastrelease.Hemusthavebighandsbecausewhenhepinchesthewaistbandoneachside,theunderpantslooktiny.IknowfullwellthatwhenIpullthoseup,I’llhavenobellybuttonandathree-foot-highbackside.
Trulygrins.“Iknowthat’stechnicallyacompliment,andagainstmycompanycharter,but…”
“Let’ssee.Oh,that’scute.”He’sfoundthelittleanchorcharm.Myunderwearinhishands.Heturnsthem,andwebothseeshe’sscreen-printed“ReallyNot”aboveHUMANFLOTSAM
Ifinallyfindmyvoiceagain.“Ireallyam.Thankyou.Anotherone-of-a-kindpair.”Itucktheminmytopdrawer,alongwithallmyotherwearablepaychecks.
TomchewsandconsidersthearrayofbadwordsonthescreenasIscrollthroughagain.“Ireallywouldhavethoughtyou’dmakeamore…upliftingcollectionthanthis.”
Trulyknowswhathemeans.“Oh,youmeanlikeskimpylilacunderpantswithgoddessspelledoutinsequins?ButthenI’dcompletelymissmytargetmarket.Snarkygirls,likeDarce,whodon’twantawedgie.”
Herphonechimesandsheglancesatitforalongmoment.Isenseconflictandfrustrationinherasshepocketsit.“WhydoeseveryonesayIshouldmakeniceunderpants?”
“Probablybecauseyou’reasweetheart,”Tomsays,matter-of-factly,andTrulyblusheshotpinkdowntoherskeleton.Mybonesturnneongreen.That’sonethingI’llneverbe:asweetheart.Howisitsoeasyforthesetwo?
“Idon’tdeservecandy,”hesays,pouringtherestofthebagintohismouth.“I’vebeensuchanassholelately.Ideserveabadwordonmybutt.”
Trulyblinks.“Areyoupsychic?That’swhatI’vecometobutterupDarcyabout.Thebrandconsultantwantsamen’ssampleincludedinthelookbook.”
“Dudesdon’twearfunnyunderwear,”Iscoff.
“IjustsaidI’dwearsome.”Tomfoldshisemptycandypacket.
Trulynods,gladofhissupport.“Ithinktheremightbeamarket,too.I’vebeenworkingonapairforawhilenow,soIhadapattern.Thisisthefirst-evermen’spair.YouknowwhatI’mgoingtoneednow,Darcy.”
Shesidlesuptome,openinganotherbagofcandy.Iopenmymouthlikeababybirdandshestuffssomechewypineapplesintomybeak.
“Don’tmakeme.”Imakecryingnoisesthroughthesugar.“Don’t.”
“What’stheissue?”Tomwalksuptothedoor.“Yeah,givemeoneminute,”hecallsuptothehouse.Thereareamillionthingsupatthehouseheneedstodo,buthe’sgettingtangledup.
“Quitbeingnosy.”There’snopointinwastingtimewithme.“Gobacktowork.”
“Castingmalemodelsisherworstnightmare,”Trulytellshim.“Whenevershe’sputcallsoutformalemodelsinthepast,she’sgottenphotosofdicksinresponse.”
“It’strue.Justdickafterdick.”Ilookatmycomputer,mywatch,andthenherface.IignoreTom’scrossedarms.“DoIgetanymoretime?”
“No,”shesaysregretfully.
“CanIdoaflatlay?”EvenasIsayit,Ishakemyhead.“No,they’lllookcrapbesidethemodelshots.Okay,leaveitwithme.I’llsortitout.”
“Areyousureyou’renottiringyourselfout?”Again,Tom’sfingersareonmyshoulder.Againmytankdisobeysandslipsoff.“Ithinkyou’reonlesssleepthanmeatthemoment.”
“Ifonlyyouhadsomeoneon-siteherewhocoulddoit,”Trulysaystome,slowlyandspeculatively.SheturnsandlooksatTom.“Someonereallycloseby.Someoneingoodshape,whowearsanXL.”Shenarrowshereyesathiswaist.
Tomisnevergoingtobuyintothisnonsense.Isavehimtheembarrassmentofsayingno.“He’stoobusyforthis.”
“Tom…,”Trulystartsinasweetheartvoice.
Hedoesn’tknowwhattosay.He’scoloringup.“Mybuttisveryflatteredtobeconsideredforthis,Truly.I’mnotsureit’suptoyourstandards.”
“You’vegottobefuckingkiddingme,”Isayindisbelief.Seriously.Hasthemanneverreachedbackandfeltwhathehasthere?“We’llletyougetbacktowork.I’lljusttriggerthedicktsunami.”
Trulyrushestoreassurehim.“Ihopeyoudon’tmindmesayingso,butyou’rereallythebestmanforthisjob.Please,justletDarcytakeonephotoofyourbuttandI’llbuyyouasteakdinner.”
“Hmmm,”Tomsays.“Steak.”Ithinkhe’stryingtonotlaugh.IprobablylooklikeI’mabouttostartscreaming.“WhatdoIhavetodo?”
“It’seasy,”Trulyjumpsin.“Juststandthere.Don’tevensuckyourstomachin.Mysiteisonlyrealbodies.Themodelsweusearen’ttinysamplesizes.AndDarceonlyusesminimalPhotoshop.Realbodies,”sherepeatsemphatically,lookingathisgroin.
“Idon’tthinkthisclassifiesasarealbody.”Myvoicesoundsveryfaint.Tomsmileslikeheisutterlycharmed.Iknowmyfaceisbloodred,becausehe’sbitinghisliptostoplaughing.“Hey,areyoumessingwithme?”
“Alittle.Ilikeit.”Hehearsanotherbleatoutside.
Trulydecidestobetrayme.“Darcywasthebuttforafewofthecollectionslastyearwhenwecouldn’tgetmodelsatareasonablerate.”
Tom’slittleValeskaearsprickup.“Darcy’sanunderwearmodel?”He’spositivelysparklingwithhumorandfunnow.I’mflushingred,myhearteruptinginmychestandsendingliquidlavathroughmyveins.
“Iforbidyoutolook.”
“She’sgotagreatbacksideforunderwear.YoutwocouldbetheUnderswearspowercouple,ifyou’djustputthemon,Tom.Whatdoyousay?Steakdinner?”
“Inevergotasteakdinner,”Icomplain.
“Okay,”Tomsays,laughinglikehecan’tbelievehimself.Thenheaddshisusualdisclaimer.“ButonlyifnoonetellsJamie.”
Helooksathisphone,thenbackatthehouse.“Andit’sareallybigsteak.I’vereallygottogo.Nicetoseeyou,Truly.PleasesignaformlatersoIfeelbetteraboutyouwalkingthroughabuildingsite.”Helooksathisnewdesk.Inachocolate-cakevoicehesays,“Icangetthatprinterworking.”
“No,itneedstobedonenow.Here.”Trulyhandshimapairofunderwearandheunfoldsthem.Onthebutt,itsays,IRRATIONALASSHOLE.Heburstsoutlaughing.
“Welltheseareveryappropriate.”Hestaresatherandrealizesshe’sserious.“Ican’tdoitnow.That’scrazy.”
“It’seitheryou,orIgotalentscouting,”Trulysays,matter-of-factly.“Thatyoungguyupatthehousewoulddoit,Ibetanything.”Sheknowsshe’ssuccessfullypressedoneofTom’sbuttonsandsuppressesagrinasheturnstomeandscowls.
“It’strue,hewould,”mymouthsays,becauseohLord,Iwanttoseesomeskin.
Trulystepsoutandholdsthedoorhandle.“I’llstandouthereandguardthedoor.Pullthedrapes.Thiscouldtaketwominutes.Takeyourpantsoff,puttheseon,Darcygoesclicky-clicky,andwe’redone.”Tosomeoneupatthehouse,Trulyshouts,“He’llbethreeminutes.”
Thedoorslidesshut.
“Shemakesitsoundsoeasy.”Hishandisonthebuttonofhispants.“WhyamIconsideringit?”
“BecauseTrulyhassomesortofweirdforcefieldaroundher.Youcan’thelpbutsayyes.Butifyoudothis,Iwillnotletyoutreatmelikeshitafterward.Youwantedtobedistracted.Youcameinhere.You’reonebigboy,andIcan’tkeepyouinhereifyoudon’twanttobe.NodsoIknowyouadmitit.”
Henods.“Ifitisn’tme,it’sgoingtobesomeoneelse.”
“Let’sjustgetitoverwith.Pretendthey’reyourswimtrunks.”
Itugthedrapesshutandswitchonthelights.Iwheelovermystool.“Youstandthere.”Ipointatthewhitevoid.Ichangesettings,thenblowdustoutofthelens.There’saseeminglyendlessperiodofbelt-jangling,stretchingfabric,andmovementbehindme,andthenTomtakeshisposition.Ihaven’tseenhislegssincehisdaysontheswimteam.Imissedthemsobad.
Thepoorthinglooksterrified.He’sgonefromworksitebosstobuffmalemodelinthespanoftwentyseconds.He’ssufferingfromthewhiplash.He’snottheonlyone.Thosestretchyboxer-briefslookliketheyweremadeforhim
“Doyouneedacigarette?Anyfinalwords?Seriously,youlooklikeyou’reabouttoberiddledwithbullets.”SometimesIlovemysmartmouth.
Helookssosweetlyvulnerable,hisT-shirttwistedlowaroundhiswaistwithhishands.He’sagoodboyinabad-boybody.It’sanunderwearbody.
Lord,itistoowarminthisroom.
LorettawasadamanthewasaVikinginapastlife—andshe’sright.He’sjustrowedacrosstheBalticSeaandnowhe’sstandinghere,chestrisingandfallingundermystare.
“Okay.”Itrytonotlookattheskinandthelegsandthehair.Andishekiddingwiththatstomach?IseebigsliceseverytimehetwistsandreadjustshisT-shirt.MymouthissodryI’ddrinkfromPatty’sbowl.I’veshotmodelsandI’veneverseenanythinglikethis.
“Areyouokay?”heasks.
“Youlookfine,”Isayinanencouragingsoccer-momvoice.Itapthegroundwithmyboot.IwillsparehimtheshameofmakinghimtakeoffhisT-shirtaltogether.Heneedssomedignity.“Turnyourbacktome.Pullyourtopuphigh.Higher.Yep.”
Ican’tsayit.IwillexplodeifIdon’tsayit.“You’vegotthebestbuttontheplanet.”Iputthecameraonhighspeedandbegintopaparazzihisass.
“IsTomthere?”Colin’svoiceisterrifyinglyclose.Jamie’smole,forsure,andhe’sabouttobustusgoofingoffintheweirdestpossibleway.TomandIfreeze.
“He’sjusthavinga…talk,withDarcy.”
“Tellhimtocomeoutfront.They’reunloadingthetimber,buthehasn’thiredaforkliftsowecan’tmoveit.”Colinsaysthatinaloudvoice,sothatTomcanhear.
“Shit,”Tomsays.“Onesecond.Iwillbeonesecond.Hurry,Darcy.”
“It’sokay,he’sgone.”Trulyopensthedoorafractionandthedrapestwitch.“Oh,theylookgoodonyou,Tom.”
Iloveher,butIgetupandfixthecurtain,banishingher.Therabidfemaletimberwolfinsidemedoesn’twantanyoneelseseeingthisbody.Theworksitenoiserecedes.
“Noonebutmegetstosee,”Igrumbletomyself.“Ican’tbelieveyouwerebraveenoughtodothis.Especiallyafter…whatIdid.”Inthekitchen,whenItriedtomaulyou.
“Icouldn’tstayawayfromyouanymore.Ithoughthavingyouaroundwasbadformyconcentration.ButnothavingyouwhereIcanseeyouisactuallyworse.”
“Iassureyou,I’mnotfuckingupanythinginhere.”
“Imissedyou.”Hisheadshakes.“Whatdoyoucall…whatyoudid?Inthekitchen?”
“Frommemory,Itoldyoutogetinme.”Itrytokeepmytonelightandamused.“IthinkyougotascarylookatwhathappenswhenDBnearlylosescontrol.”
“Thatwasyouwithsomecontrolleft?”He’sincredulous.
Iflashbacktothebreakingwood,thepointingatthebedroomdoor,thecrudehonesty.Butthetruthis,itcouldhavebeenworse.
“Well,yeah.”Ilowerthecamera.I’mbreathingheavilyenoughtofogthedisplay.Atthisrate,I’lldestroythelens.“IfIlostallcontrol,Iwouldhave—”Iclickthecamera,justtomakenoise.“Iprobablywouldhave—”IcovermymouthlikeI’mtryingtoholdinaburp.Ican’tsayit.Icannot.
“Tellme,”hesaysoverhisshoulderinthatbassvoicefromthefirstmorningontheworksite,whenhesaidUnpacktheequipmentandtheguystuckedtailandran.It’savoicethatyoucan’tsaynoto.
Fuckit.Ifhewantshonesty,I’llgiveittohim.“Iwouldhaveundoneyourbeltandgotdownonmyknees,andmadeyoupraytoGod.”
“Jesus,”hesayswithnoair.
“Yep,you’dhavebeencallinghisname,allright.”IcrossonelegovertheothersoIcanstiflethetelltaleheavinessI’mfeeling.Asicklittlerushisspikingmyshame.Icouldsayalmostanythingtohimandhe’dhavetostandtherewithhisbacktomeandhearit.“Luckyforyou,I’vegotalittlecontrolleft.Justalittle.”
Hismassiveshouldersrollandhesighsinmisery.
“Comeon,turnaroundandwe’llfinishup.Youcangobacktoyourflock.”Iswivel,sidetoside,anditdoesn’thelpmyarousedsituation.ItwouldservemerightifIaccidentallyorgasmonastoolfromKmart.
“Idon’tgetitthough,”hesaysafteramoment.“Why?”
“Whatdoyoumean‘why’?”Ihearthedisbeliefinmyvoice.“You’rephenomenal.Youknowthat.”Whenheglancesoverhisshoulderatme,hiseyesarerawandunsure.“Youdoknowthat,right?Ican’teventellyouhowhotyouare.I’dhavetoshowyou.”
Heshufflesfoottofootbutdoesn’tturntofaceme.
“Justthefrontnow,andwe’redone.Thirtyseconds.Comeon,Tom,whiparound.”Hedoesnothing.“Tom.EarthtoTom.”
Hesaysonafaintsigh,“Iamhavingapersonalissue.”
“Yeah,youandmeboth.I’vegotapackofdouble-Abatterieswithmynameonit.”Myjeansfeellikethey’veshrunktensizes,andtheseamisnearlycuttingmeinhalf.“Let’sjustgetthroughthis.”
“Justgivemeasecond,”hesaysinanguish.
“Turnaround,”Iorderhim,desperatetoendthis.Withreluctanceheavyinhisface,heobeys,twistingtheT-shirtup.Hisstomachisquiltedintosixbeautifulblocks.“Hooooolyshit.”MymouthdropsopenandIcanbarelyliftmycamera.
“YouseewhatImean,”hesaysthroughaclenchedjaw.Hisunderwearlooksdifferentfromhowitshouldinthefront.Allbentoutofshape.Uncontainable.Ananglethatshouldbeending,butitjust…doesn’t.Myinsidesclenchup;yesplease
“Nowonderyouweren’timpressedbymydirtyboxofmerchandise,”IblurtoutevenasIsteadymyhandsandzoom.“Idon’tthinkIcouldgetthelightingrightonyou.”
“That’shilarious,”hesaysinfury,reachingdownandgrabbingathispants.“Youjusthavetokeeptalking,don’tyou.”
“No,wait,IneedoneshotforTruly.”Ilowermycamera.“Justdon’tworryaboutit.Thishasactuallyhappenedbefore.Ioncedidaboudoirshootforacouple’sanniversary,and—”
Hishandispressedoverhiseyes.“Juststoptalkingforonegoddamnsecond.”Horrorlightsupinsideme.Jamieneverstopstalking.Ever.Thenheadds,“Yourvoiceissohot,Ican’tbearit.Obviously.”
“Oh.”Iswivelaroundonthestoolandputmybacktohim.“Ididn’tknowthat.”Theroomringssilent.
“Ofcourseyouknowthat,”hereplieswithtemper.“Ihaveneverheardawomantalkthewayyoudo.”There’sanaudibleswallowingsound.“You’vegottobemorecarefulwithwhatyousaytoguys.”
“Ihaveneverinmylifesaidanythinglikethistoanotherguy,andIresenttheinsinuation.”Ipeekovermyshoulder.Canthisexcruciatingmomentendnow?Onemoretinymicrofreezeframeandmybrain’sgotitforever.It’snowinthevault.It’sareallybigvault.
“Thisishumiliating.”Hetutsandhuffs.“Areyouthisfilthywithanyhalf-decent-lookingguythatcatchesyoureye?”
“I’mthisfilthywithyou.Onlyyou.Andyou’renotjust‘half-decent.’I’veseenMichelangelo’sDavidinFlorence.Youmakehimlooklikeapin-dickedgardengnome.”
“Done,guys?”Trulycallsout.
Iwavemyhandinpanic.“Nearly!Let’stalkaboutsomethingreallyneutral.Like,thehouserenovation.How’sthatgoing?Tellmeallaboutit.”
“Okay,”hesays,soundingencouraged.
“Talkaboutthegutteringorthevents.Thatbigwaterstainonthekitchenceiling,how’sthatcomingalong?Orthe…”Idigdeep.“Thetrellis.Thepipes.Thearchitravesandthefinialsandthe—”
Hecutsin,despairing.“Ithinkyousayingvaguelyarchitecturaltermsismakingitworse.”
“Youweirdo.”Ihearmyselfalittledifferentlynow.Isitreallyasexyvoice?I’mprettysurethemostresponseI’veeverelicitedfromTomhasbeendilatedpupils.NowI’minaroomthatcontainshisharddick.
Safer.Keephimsafer.
Anotherminuteticksby.“Okay,”hesays,strained.“Doit.”
ItakeabouttenshotsandbeforeIeventellhimwe’redone,he’sbendingover,jamminghislegsintohispants,stillwearingtheUnderswears.Heexplodesoutoftheroom,almostknockingoverTruly.
“Youowememorethanasteakdinner,”Tomsaystoherashedepartsatspeed.“Youowemeasteakdinneronacruiseship.”
Trulycomesbackinside.“Whatdidyoudotohim?”
“I’mreallynotsure,”Isay,pattingsweatoffmybrow.“ButIdon’tthinkwe’regettingthoseunderpantsback.”Chapter14
Statusupdate:SotiredI’mpossiblydying.Andit’sonlyThursday.
Istandinthebathroomwithmyhandsonmyhipsandlookatthewall.I’veneverintentionallydemolishedaroombefore.“Ben,canyougivemeanoutlineonwhatI’msupposedtodo?”
ThestrangestwordstriggermebacktotheUnderswearsphotoshoot.Likeoutline.
Ben’stheoneIcantrusttogivemeadvicethatwon’tresultinmyfuckingsomethingup.Alexonlyknowshowtocarryheavythingsandlaughatjokes.Colin’sstillonmyshitlistandIamalmostcertainhe’sJamie’smole.I’vebeenfeedinghimbogusinformationinanattempttoflushhimout.
“Gettingthetilesoffthewallswouldbeagoodstart.Use…this.”ItrynottolookatBen’sshinydomewhileherummagesinaboxoftools.Hegivesmeashortcrowbar.“Carefully,now.It’seasytoputaholeinthewallifyoujuststartsmashing.”
Hetoesanemptycardboardboxovertome.“They’llbesharp.Weargoggles,too.There’sabinoutside,butAlexwilldothelifting.Thenafterthat,takeupthefloortiles.”
“Fine.Thanks.”Havingaclearlydefinedtaskislikeheaven.Iknotmybaggytankatmyhipandpullmyjeansupalittle.Gloveson.Iputthegogglesonthetopofmyhead.
Tompassesthedoorandhalts.Wemakeeyecontact,thenhelooksatthecrowbarinmyhand.Hiseyelidsflutterandhisbodymissesastep,likehe’sjustseensomethinghecan’tbear.DoIlookridiculous?Isheimaginingmehurtingmyself?
Actually,IrememberwhathegotlikewhenItalkedtohimaboutarchitraves.Iswingthecrowbar.“Isthisalookthatworksforyou?”
Heswallowsandnods.“Ah,yeah.”
Fromuphisladder,Colinshakeshisheadatuswearily.Weneverlearn.
Bynow,thissamelittleloopisbecomingingrained:Tomwalkspastandgetsdistractedbyme,andsomethinginanotherpartofthehousefucksup.Iamahumancurse.
Ijerkmythumb.“Keepwalking.”Hedoes,lookingflustered.
Colinsays,“Idon’tthinkheexpectsyoutoactuallydemo.”
“IthinkI’veexplainedseveraltimesthatIampartofthecrew,right?”Iwipesweatfrommybrowwithmyforearm.I’vehadtoacceptthatIamforeverglistening.“DidyougetyourtaxdetailstoTom?”
Colinsulks.“Notyet.”
“Ohreally,Mr.Paperwork?”It’sonthetipofmytonguetoorderhimtogettheminbyfive.ButIwon’t.I’llstaybehindthelinethatTomdrewforme.
Ican’thelpbutnoticethatColinlookskindofcool,standingupthereagainstthewhitewallbackground.Ipickupmycameraandtakeaquickshot.Ifrownatthescreen.Icandobetterthanthat.
Iadjustthesettings,reframe,andthesecondshotisalotbetter.Like,alot.“How’dyouliketobemymuse?”IaskColin.Hedoesn’tbotheracknowledgingmyexistence.
Iputthecameraaside.Twopicturesofahumanfaceamongtheshotsofelectricaloutletsandcrackedskirtingboards.Tommightbeproudofmeforthat.Howweirdthatit’sawfuloldColinthat’sinspiredme.
Ipressmypalmagainstthefirsttileintherow.Itfeelscompletelysacrilegious,butIputtheedgeofthecrowbaronthetopofthetileanditjust…popsoff.I’mtooslowtocatchitanditshattersatmyfeet.
Tom’sheadalmostinstantlyappearsatthedoorjamb.
“Becareful.”He’sregrettingthisbig-time.“Yeah,wait,”hesaystosomeoneelse.It’sanimpressivejugglingact:supervisinganentireworksite,andpersonallysupervisingmyeverymove.
“I’mfine.”Ipopoffmoretilesintomypalmanddropthemintoacardboardbox.“I’moneoftheguysnow,right?”IsaytoColin,wholaughswithouthumorandsayssure.“Bye,Tom.Seeyoulater.”
Hegetsmyunsubtlehintandwalksoffagain.
TheimpromptuUnderswearsshootruinedthelittlecandy-hugtrucewe’djustachieved.WhenIwalkedTrulyouttohercar,therewerecrewsofguyshand-carryingwooddownthesideofthehouse,Colinhadhisarmscrossed,andTomwasfurious.He’dadmittedhisparticipationwasvoluntary,andhadpromisedtonotblamemeforit,butitfeelsanawfullotlikeanotherstrikeagainstme.
Itriedtohelpcarrytimbertoo,butthemomentIbentdown,hewasbumpingmebacklikeI’dstrayedtooclosetoacliff.
He’sstartingtobemoreValeskathanman.
It’sgottobethestressthat’sturninghimintoananimal.IfItalktooneofthedeliveryguys?He’scomingupthefrontpathwithasnarlonhislip.IfImakeasparesandwichforbozoAlex,who’ssofarforgottenluncheverysingleday?Tom’sleaningonthebench,jealouseyesonmyprofileuntilIpulloutthecheeseandlettuce.
Theguysonthecrewarestartingtowalksidewaysaroundme.I’mstartingtofeellikealandmine.IfTomtouchesmeagainI’mprobablyjustgoingtoexplodeonhim.Hencemypermanentfeversweat.
Tothebathroomcrew,Isay,“I’veknownTomsincewewereeight.ButsomedaysIwonderifhe’lleverspeaktomeagainafterthis.”
“Renovationsareverystressful,”Bensaysdiplomatically.“Andsoisstartingyourownbusiness.AldohasbeenmakingthingsdifficultforTom,especiallygettingstaff.”
“Hedidn’ttellmethat.”Iwonderwhatelsehe’slyingawakeover.
“Payroll.Insurance.Workers’safety.Subcontractors.Contracts,”Colindronesfromuponhisperch.Hesnapshisfingersatme,andIknowthatmeanstohanduphiscordlessdrill.I’monlyslightlyaboveAlexinthepeckingorder.
“Idon’trespondtothat.”Iclickmyfingersbackathim.“Useyourwords.”
“Sitesecurity.Suppliers.Rentalequipment.Invoicing.Budget.”Colingivesmeaverymeaningfullookandfinisheswith,“Clientmanagement.Passmethatdrill.”
Ihanditup.“You’vemadeyourpoint.He’sgotitallhandled.”
“Idon’tthinkso.He’sverydistracted,”Colinsaysinbetweenannoyingdrillbuzzes.Hehandsdownaventtome,gettinggraydustinmyhair.“Trash.”
Feelingmildlypersecuted,ItosstheventinAlex’sbox.“Iwanttoarguewithyouthathe’sgoteverythinghandled,butI’verecentlybeenadvisedthatit’snoneofmybusiness.”Ireturntomytiles,unsettled.Tomsatonthebacksteplastnightwithhisheadinhishands.Assoonasheheardmyapproachingfootfalls,he’dsmoothedeverythingbackintothatcompetentfa?ade
Isittherenovation,orMegan,thatistormentinghim?
Ifindmyrhythmagain.Pop,smash.Pop,smash.I’mgettinghandywithmycrowbar.IshouldgiveAlexabreakonthetrashtask.
Ibenddownandliftthebox,andmyheartdecidestoshititspants.
Itfeelslikearushofpalpitationsthatseemtobubbleupward,intomythroat,grayingmyvision.Ileanmyshoulderonthewall.Okay,thatdoesit.IthinkIneedtogoinforaquickreviewoftheoldheartsituation,butJamiealwayscomeswithme.I’mstilllittle-kidDarcy,tooscaredtogotoonebig-girlappointmentonherown.
It’sweird.Ihaven’tgottenusedtoLoretta’sabsenceinmylife,becauseshefeelssocloseIhalfexpecttolookoutthewindowandseeherbossingsomeonearound.
SometimesitfeelslikeJamie’stheonewhodied,becausethevoidjustkeepsgettingbigger.Andmyheartbeatsmorelopsidedlythanever.
“Alexdoesthelifting.Areyouokay?”Benisatmyside.“ShouldwegetTom?Hetoldustolethimknowifyouweren’tfeelinggood.”
“Didhenow.”Istraightenupandmyhandisonmyhipinaninstant.Throughmyteethandtheprickingtearsinmyeyes,Irattleout,“I’mjusttakingabreak.Ignorehim.”
“Ignorehim?”Alexechoesfromthedoorway.“Youdon’tignoretheboss.”Hecrowdsin,too.
“Justbreatheniceanddeep,”Colinsays,frowningatAlexinashutupsortofway.He’sconcernedenoughthatheclimbsdownhisladder,everymovementevidentlypainfulandarthritic.ImustlooklikeI’mdying.“Shouldyousitdown?”
Ishakemyhead.“There’snothingwrongwithme.”I’llbedamnedifIbondwiththisoldcodgeroverourmutualailments.Heshufflesofflikeabloodhound,hisnoseontheground,sniffingouttheboss.Orworse,findingaquietspottocallmybrotherwiththelatestintel.
“Headspin?Igetthose.”Alexcanalwaysbecountedontoblithelyglossoverwhatever’sgoingon.Ilikethatabouthim.“EspeciallyifI’mhungover,”headdswithalittlebitofabraginhisvoice.
Isympathizewiththisyoungkid.He’salreadycomplainedtomeabouthowboringhisnightsare,stuckinhischeapmotelroominbetweenOldyandBaldy
IthinkoftheboostIgotwhenTomsaidthecrewmissedme.Thingsarefunwithmehere.AlexistheyouthdemographicIneedtoalignmyselfwith.
“Hey,tomorrownight,geteveryonetocomedowntothebarIworkat.We’llhavealittlefirst-weekcelebration.I’llgiveyouallcheapdrinks.You’llhavetoshowmeyourID.”
Alexbrightens.“Thatsoundsawesome.Wehaven’tdoneanythinglikethatinages.Tomworksusprettyhard.”
Icanseeitnow,moraleliftingandtheentireteambonding.Clinkingglasses,cheers!“Well,Iwantyouguystoenjoythisproject.”Everythingsteadiesupandthemomenthaspassed.Ipushawayfromthewall.“Butthisdoesn’tmeanI’minlovewithyou.Everyone’sinvited.”
“Iknowthat,”Alexgaspsafterasecond,turningred.“Iknowthat.”
Bendecidestoriskhislife.“Fairlyobviouswhoshe’sinlovewith.”Ipretendtobeathimwithmycrowbar,hepretendstobeinjured,andnowwe’reallgrinning.Iputtheradioonandweallfallintorhythmsmatchingthemusic.Idon’tknowwhat’swrongwithme,butIcoulddothisforever.
Theytellmeabouttheirlastjob,abigvacationhouseontopofacliff.Tomworkedallnighttore-sandsomefloorsthatweren’tuptohisstandard.TheytellmewhatIalreadyknow:Tomisatirelessperfectionist.Ithinkthey’rewarningme.Iworkharder,neater,determinedtodothisperfectly.Iwillbefaultless.
“Youmightbeabletoanswerthisone,”Alexstarts.“What’swiththeChihuahua?We’veneverworkeditout.”Hegoesformynextfullboxoftiles.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Aguylikethatshouldhaveabigdog,”Alexsaysonagruntashehoists.“WekindofthoughtshewasMegan’s.”
“Aguylikethat?Tomwasthirteenwhenhegother,andhedidn’tcarethathe’dgetteasedforitforever.Hepickedtherescuedogthatlovedhimbest.AndInamedhermyself,yearsbeforeTomevenmetMegan.”
Thebragisclearinmyvoice,butIcan’thelpit.Wait.Thatwasn’tbragging.Thatsoundedlikeownership.
“Hey.”ItakeAlexbythesleeveashestepspastme.IglanceatBenandColin;they’rebothpreoccupied.Inasofttone,Isay,“I’vemetalotofmen,allovertheworld,andTom’sthebest.Withoutadoubt,heisthebestman.Trytobelikehim.”Alexnods,absorbingGrandmaDarcy’swisdom.
“Aguylikethat,”IrepeattomyselfasIresumework.IwanttocallAlexbacktogivehimafullsermononallthereasonsthatTomistheexampleheshouldaspireto.
TomdidataskbriefingwithsomeguysyesterdaywithPattysittingbetweenhisboots.Aguylikethatisstronginawaythat’sdeeperthanmuscleandbones,becausehewearshissoftnessontheoutside.IthinkImetmyidealmanwhenIwaseight,andnooneelsehasevermeasuredup.
“Aguylikethat.”ThistimewhenIleanonthetiles,it’sbecauseI’mthinkingaboutTominawaythatmakesmestopbreathingaltogether.Ifhewalkspastrightnowandputshisheadaroundthedoor,Idon’tthinkI’llbeabletokeepmyexpressionneutral.
I’veneverfeltthiswaybeforeinmylife.Idon’tknowwhattodo.
Iturnbacktomytask,myfacewarm.Thesinglepinktileisnextinline.I’lltakethisoneoffcarefullyandkeepitasacoaster.Pop.Iturnitover,andithasatarotcardbeneaththelayerofglue.
“What!”Ilaughoutloud.“Guys,look.Mygrandmaleftmesomething.”BenandAlexcrowdaroundmelikeI’vestruckgold.
“Whatevenisit?”Alexisadorablyna?veaboutmostthings.
“Mygrandmawasafortune-teller.ThisistheStrengthtarotcard.”Awomandressedinwhiteholdsopenthejawsofalion.Itcouldbeaviolentimage,butinsteadit’snothingbutpatienceandsteadiness.ItlookslikemeandValeska.
“Whatdoesitmean?”
Itrytoremember.Shetriedtoteachmehowtoreadcards,butIwasalwaystoobusy.Tootired.Toohungover.Toooverseas.“Ithinkitmeansperseveranceandcourage.ButI’llhavetolookitup.”
Bensays,“Maybetherearemorecardshiddenaroundthehouse.It’sasign.Telleveryonetokeepaneyeout,”headdstoAlex,andthefactthathehasn’tjustdismisseditasgirlynonsensehasmebeaming.
Ifinishthewalltilesbymidmorning,andwhileIdohaveafewmoreheart-skipmoments,Iholdupwell.Colinhasbeenwatchingmelikeabuzzardwaitingforacarcass.IforgettoeatmylunchordrinkandhavenoideawhattimeitiswhenIpullupthefinalsectionoffloortilesandblotmysweatyfaceintothehemofmytank.
“Wow,”Tomsaysfromthedoorway.“Okay.”Helooksaroundtheroomlikehe’sneverseenitbefore.
I’mashakymess.“Idon’tknowhowlongthisshouldhavetakenme,soIcan’ttellifyou’reactuallyimpressed.”I’mnervousashisperfecteyestraceoverthewalls,floors,upmylegs,andtomyface.
“Youdidthisbyyourself?”He’sshocked.
“She’samachine.”Bengivesmeacrookedgrinandturnsbacktohisowntask.
Tomstepscloseandassessesme.“Youdidn’tpushittoohard?”
Hetakesmebythewrist,feelingformypulse.Hisotherhandscrapesmyhairbackfrommyface.Ishouldn’tlikehisbrandoffussing.Ishouldstepoutofhishands.ButmaybeIshouldtrytowearalittlesoftnessontheoutside.Ileanintohistouch.
“Iwascompletelyfine.”IseeColin’slipspurse.Atleasthedidn’tsnitch.“Tom,look.Lorettaleftussomething.”Ishowhimthetarottile.
Helaughs,andtheafternoonsunlightturnsthefloatingdustparticlesintoglitteraroundus.Itturnshiseyestowhiskey,andtheygetmedrunk.Aguylikethis?He’stheonlyonewho’severmademystomachflip.
“Shealwayslikedtomakethingsinteresting.”Hisarmswraparoundme.Hesqueezesmetightandsaysabovemyhead,“Youdidgood.I’msoimpressed.”
IputmyarmsaroundhiswaistandIbreatheinlungfulsofhim,mycheekonthepadofhischestandthestudinmynipplepinchinginthemostpleasurableway.AnysecondIwillscrewthisup.Betterenjoyitwhileitlasts.
“Where’smyhug,boss?”Alexsaysashereappears.BenandColinbothlaugh.OhmyGod,whatiswrongwithme?I’mgettinghighoffthispart-of-the-teamfeeling.
Tomsays,“Thisonegetsspecialprivileges.Youknowthat.”WhenIleanback,IcanseeTom’ssmiling,too.Hereleasesmeandtoesattheancientadhesivemarksonthefloor.“We’reaheadofscheduleinhere.Goodwork,everyone.”
IamsoelatedI’msurprisedI’mnottwofeetofftheground.MakingTomproud?It’slikesnortingarainbow.Itcannotlast.“Okay,you’dbetterleavenow.”
“She’sprettygoodatthis.”Alexpicksupmylastboxofbrokentiles.“Andsheworksatabar.Fridaynightisgoingtobelit.”Heclompsoff.
“Whatdoeshemean,Friday?”Tomfocusessharplyonmyface.“What’shappeningthen?”BenandColinclearout,sayingbathroomandwater,respectively.
Andjustlikethat,myfeetarebackontheground,andI’vefuckedupagain.Chapter15
IjustsaidI’ddocheapdrinksonFridaynightatthebar.”Iturnawaytopickatachippedpieceoftilestillonthewall,butTomputshishandonmyelbow.
“Who’dyouask?”
“IjusttoldAlextoaskeverybodywhowasinterested.”Itakeadrinkfrommywaterbottle.“I’msorry,butyoucan’tcome.You’retheboss.Noonewillbeabletorelax.”
Hebangsthedoorshutbehindhimwithhisboot.“Youjustcan’thelpyourself.”
Everythinginsidemeleapsinfright.Irefusetoputmyhandovermystartledheart.Playingthecardiocardischeating.“Oh,great.WhathaveIdonenow?”
He’sangryeyesandcrossedarms.“Ihavetopusheveryonehardtofinishthisplace.Whenit’sdone,thentheydrink.Fornow,theywork.”
“Butwhattheydointheirfreetime—”
“Idon’twantthemgettingcaughtupintheDarcyBarrettwhirlwind.Believeme,onceyou’reinit,youcan’tgetout.”Hisphonebuzzesandherejectsthecallhardenoughtocracktheglass.“Thisisweekone,Darce.Youshouldhaveaskedmefirst.”
“AllIdidwassuggestthat—”
“Youinvitedtheentiresitecrewouttoabar,wherethehothomeowner”—here,heindicatesquotationmarkswithhisfingersinawaythatfeelsinsulting—“isgoingtolayoncheapdrinks.Cancelit.HalfofthemhavetoworkSaturdaymorning.”
“LookslikeI’vepissedoffmyhotbuilder.”Igivehimthesamequotationfingersback.“Youcan’tdecidewhattheydointheirfreetime.They’rebigboys.AndIwastoldthatImakethingsfunaroundhere.”
SurelyheknewI’dtakethebaitonthat?
“Thisentirething?It’smything.”Hemakesahandmotionthatapparentlyencompassestheentirehouseandeverythinginit.“I’meveryone’sboss.Evenyours.Askmebeforeyoudostupidshitlikethisagain.”Heputshisheadoutthedoor.“Friday’scanceled.”
“Thatsucks,”IhearAlexsayasthedoorisshutagain.
“You’rebeinganasshole.Itreallydoesn’tsuityou.”Itknocksalittleofhismomentumoutofhim,butheralliesafterabeatandlowershisvoice.
“IfIdon’tkeepittogether,thisentireprojectwillturntoshit.Ihavetobethehard-assbosstotheseguys.Andnowtoyou,apparently.”
“Well,ifthisisthecompletereaminganewemployeegetswhentheymakeaninnocentmistake,thenyou’renotaverygoodboss.”Iaimalowblow.“Justbecauseyouhavenolifedoesn’tmeantherestofusshouldjuststayhome.”
He’sincredulous.“IhavenolifebecauseI’mtryingtosellyourhouse.”
“You’vehadnolifeforalongtimenow.Whenwasthelasttimeyouwentout?Hadadrink,dinner,adate?Whenwasthelasttimeyouwentswimming?”
“I’vegotnotime.”
“You’realwayssayingthat.TheTomIknewcouldn’tlivewithoutchlorine.”
“Well,theDarcyIknewtookphotosofrealshitandofherownvolition.Don’tbepretendingtomelikeyourlifeissofulfilling.”Heputsahandinhishair.“Icannotthinkstraightwithyouinhere.”
Heleavesabigpause,andthere’sthatfamiliarlookinhiseyes.I’veseenitsomanytimes,rightbeforehechoosesJamie’sside.“Ithinkthiswholeideaofhavingyouworkwasamistake.”
“Don’tyoufuckingdaretrytocutmeoutofthis.You’reoverreactinglikecrazy.”
“Youjustgetmeso…”Tomcloseshiseyes.There’sthatshoulderroll.Likehe’sclimbingbackintohisbodyalittle.“Justlookatitfrommyperspective.Theseguyson-site,theyknowI’mtheboss.You’rethehomeowner.We’reateamnow.IthoughtIgotthatacrosstoyou.”
“Yes,butthatdoesn’tmeanwecan’tbenicetotheseguys.”
Heleansonthewall,coatinghisshoulderindust.“Earlyon,Iwaseveryone’sfriend,butIgotwalkedover.Isupposethat’snotnewstoyou.”There’svulnerabilitytherebeforeheblinksitaway.“I’msupposedtobeincontrolofeverything.”
Colin’slistofburdensomeresponsibilitiesisstillrunningonaloopinthebackground,andInearlyopenmymouthtoaskifeverythingisgoingokay.ButIcan’t.He’lljustgrowlatme.
Myglowingsenseofprideiscompletelygonenow.“Iwasreallyenjoyingmyselfjustnow.IwaslookingforwardtoyouseeingwhatIdid.AndyoucomeinandtellmeIshouldn’tevenbehere?Realnice.”Ipullonthewindowforair.Ofcourse,thelittleassholedoesn’tbudge.
“Leaveit.I’lldoit.”Forhim,thefuckingthingwillprobablyslideuplikesilk.IgoforthecrowbaronthefloorbutTomputshisbootonit.“Isaiddemotheroom,notlevelittotheground.”
“Anotherthing,Tom.Don’ttellpeopletokeepaneyeonme.That’sreallyinsulting.Dotheyallknowaboutmy…?”Itapmychest.
“Justthesethreeknow.Idoubtmyinsurancecoversyoudoingthis.That’stheriskI’mtakingforyou.AndnowIhavetogoandfindanewroofingcontractor.”Hiseyesnarrow.
“Whyisthatmyfault?”
“Ifiredhim.”Tommightaswellhaveasledgehammerinhisfistnow.
Well,atleastIknowwhocalledmehot-in-quotation-marks.“You’vebeenmarinatingintoomuchtestosterone.Iwasdoingajobinhere.”
Hiseyesflashbright.“Andthat’swhyIhavezeropatienceforguyswhotalklikethataboutwomenonajobsite.I’dfirehimforsayingthataboutanyone,notjustyou.”
EverytimeTomstepsuptotheplateandshowsmewhoheis,it’sarelief.Aldowouldhaveroaredlaughing.Ilookoutthewindow.“Whatexactlydidhesay?”
“I’llspareyouthedetails.”
Iputmyhandonmyhip.“Well,amIdiggingagraveornot?”
Helaughswithoutmuchhumor.“Makeitarealdeepone.Hewasoneofmylastoptions,too.OneofthelastthatAldohasn’tgottento.Yourhousemayhavenonewroofatthisrate.”
Igestureupward.“I’msuretheoneupthereisfine.”
“Oh,Darce.IfyouknewthethingsIknew,youwouldn’tsleep.Noteveninabedlikeyours.”
Mymattressmadequiteanimpression.He’sthinkingaboutitrightnow.Hispupilsaredialingout.Istabaroundforsomewaytotosssomecoldwaterontherisingheatinthisroom.
“Meganmusthaveloveditwhenyougotlikethis.”
“She’sneversteppedfootononeofmysites.Neverpickedupacrowbar,muchlessbrokenasweat.”Hiswhiteteethbiteintohisbottomlip.“I’veneverbeenlikethis.Whateverthisis.”
ThebeastIhadimaginedasachildandthathasfollowedmearoundtheglobeeverystepItook?Theonethatwouldsleepatthefootofmybedandtearoutthroats?He’shereinthisroom,butI’mnotscared.IfIsteppedtoe-to-toewithhimandputmyhandup,hewouldpresshischeekintomypalm.ButnowisnotthetimetoexplaintheconceptofValeska.
“You’vealwaysbeenlikethis.Trustme.”
“Onlyaroundyou.NeverMegan.”Hiseyesholdsteadyonmineuntilwhateverinternalguilt-pinchhejustexperiencedeasesoff.“Icanseeyoulikehearingthat.”
I’veprobablygotwolfeyesmyself.“OfcourseIdo.I’majealousbitch.Shenevercametovisit?Notevenonceinadresswithapicnicbasket?”Heshakeshishead.“Damn.Ifyouwere—”Icutmyselfoffshort.
Hisdarkeyebrowarches.“IfIwereyours,what?”
Ihuffadisbelievinglaugh.He’sgettingbold.Thewayhe’slookingatmerightnow?He’sgoingtolickme,justtoknowmytaste.
Ichickenout.“Youdon’twanttoknowwhatImean.”
“Theproblemis,”hesayswithslowdeliberation,“thatIdowanttoknow.”
“Useyourimagination.”Ihavenothing.I’moutclassedhere,andheknowsit.There’samusementinhiseyesandthesharppointofhiscaninetoothshowingashestepsbacktowardthedoor
“Ihavebeen.That’swhyI’magoddamnwreck.”Heopensthedoorlikethat’sgoingtokeepussafe.Atinybitoftensionevaporatesoutoftheroominapinksteamcloud,butit’snotenough.Wecouldstillleaponeachotherandgivetheguysinthehallashow.
Headvancescloseragain,andwithonefingerheslidesthestrapofmytankbackontomyshoulder.
InavoicesoquietIalmostmissit,hesays,“You’redrivingmeinsanewithyourskinandyoursweat.”Whenheseesmerecoil,heclarifiesandmystomachbottomsout.“Youseriouslydon’tknowyou’resexy,doyou?”
“No,”Imanagetosay.“Imean,I’vebeentold—”
Hiseyesturnnuclear.
“Butnotbyyou.Neverbyyou.”
“You’rewrong,”heargues.“I’vetoldyouineverywayIcould.EvenwhenIshouldn’thave.Musthavebeenfunforyou,beingabletoteaseandmesswithmewheneverwehadthirtysecondsalone.”
TheeightlongMeganyearsstretchbehinduslikeadesertroad.Hethinksthatwasniceorenjoyableforme?Standingonthesideofabonfire,whilehesatwithMeganperchedonhisknee?Drinkinguntiltheknifepointinsidemedulled?
“Musthavebeenniceforyou,gettingengagedandnothavingtogiveashitaboutmeormyskin.Look,I’mgoingtotaketheafternoonoff.”
Igrabthepinktarottileandduckoutfromunderhisarmandblowdownthehall,steppingovercordsandmen’sboots;outintothebackyard;andintothestudio.Patty’sclawsclickaroundonthefloorbutI’mtoodispiritedtolookatherhappysunflowerface.
He’sfollowedmeofcourse.“Ineedyoutokeepworking.”
“Youdon’tneedme.I’manovelty.Noonetakesmeseriously.EverytimeIpickupatool,Ifeellikeeveryone’sthinking,Aw,socute!I’mafreakin’Patty.”
“Youknowthat’snottrue.Youworkedyourassoff.”
Iputthetarotcardonmybench.“Idonothingbutstressyouout.I’maliability.Yousaidityourself.I’mgoingtodoyouafavorandclearoutforabit.”
Tomleansonthedoorframeofmybedroombuthewon’tstepaninchinside.It’sprobablytokeephimselfsafe.“Jamiebetmeahundredbucksyou’dquitinthefirstweek,butIsaidyouwouldn’t.Areyougoingtogivethiswintohim?”
“I’mnotquitting,I’mjust…leaving.”Igestureupatthehouse,whereanaudienceisbuilding.“They’reallwaitingforthebigboss.”
Hegivesuponme.“Mustbenicetojustleavewhenthingsgethard.Someofusdon’thavethatluxury.”Hewalksbacktothehouse,wherehe’ssurroundedbyguys,allneedingthingsdone,answered,signed,sorted.
Irewindmymemory.Cheapdrinks.Bar.Enjoythisproject.Isthatreallyenoughtoderailanentirehouserenovation?IthoughtIwasdoingsomethinggood,butnowshameisburninginsideme,hotandsick.
Itoverrideseverything;eventheflushofpleasureinknowingI’maffectinghimistainted.It’snotsomethingthathewants.Theworstpartaboutallofthis?Jamiewasright.I’mdisruptingTomsomuchhecan’tdohisjoborenjoyhisnewchallengeasboss.He’scompletelytormented.
Ipickuptheenvelopewithmypassportapplicationinit.I’llgomailthis,thentakemymoldyoldheartoutforsomedaydrinking.WhowasIkidding?I’mnotphysicallycapableofthelabor,ormentallyfittobeaboss.
Ihavefivenamesinmynewphone’scontactlist:Mom,Dad,Tom,Jamie,Truly.Theonlyfivewhomatter,andatthisrateImightloseTomaltogether.Myidiotthumbstillthinksitisatwin,becauseitchoosesJamiefirst.IscrollagainanddialTruly.Shepicksuponthefirstring.
“Couldyoucomepickmeup?Mycarisblockedinbyaboutahundredtrucks.”Ilookinthemirror.Iamahotmess.Agleaming,pink-facedmess,withsmudgyeyes.Sexy?Tom’sbeenmaroonedonthisdesertislandalittletoolong
WhenTrulyspeaks,Iknowshe’sgotsomesewingpinsinhermouth.“Sure,Icanbetheresoon.What’shappening?”
“Theusual.Myheartnearlyblewup,Idiedofmalnutrition,Iinvitedthecrewouttodrinks,andthenTom’sheadexploded.”Idon’thidemyheartstufffromTruly,becauseshedoesn’tlecturemeaboutit.
Ihearthesoundofasewingmachineontheotherend.“Drinks?Already?Aren’ttheythereformonths?”
“Yes,butIwastryingtobringalittlefunintothis.”
Thewhirringstopsandstarts.“You’dbemakingthemallthinkthiswholeprojectisgoingtobeeasyandfun,whenit’snot.Theywouldn’ttakeitasseriously.”
“Iwanttocreateateamvibe.”
“Youcanprobablythinkofwaysforeveryonetofeelhappytobeonthisprojectwithoutplyingthemwithdrinks.That’skindofyourdefaultsetting.”
“I’mabartender.”ThisisnotgoinghowIthoughtitwould.
“Youdon’tneedtobeontwenty-four/sevenbartendermodewhenyou’renotonshift.Just…beyourselfforonce.Therealyou.YouknowwhatIdowhenImakeamistakewhensewing?”
“Youhaveacompletementalandemotionalbreakdown.Nowait,that’sme.”Isitontheedgeofmybedandheaveasigh.“JamiewouldloveitifIquit.”
“WhenImakeamistake,IunpickitandIkeeponsewing.Andhey,Darce?You’renotabartender.You’reaphotographer.Iwishyou’dbelieveitagain.”
IdolefullylookupattheflashmobformingaroundTom.“Ikeeptryingtohelp,butitalwaysendsbadly.I’mbeginningtothinkthebestwaymightbetojuststayoff-siteasmuchasIcan.”
Trulysighs.“I’monyourside.Alwaysandforever.Butthisjobisaboutyouactuallystayingforsomethingbigandfinishingit.Iloveyou,butthat’snotwhatyou’regenerallyknownfor.”
I’mstung.“Ididweddingsforhowmanyyears?Ialwaysshowedupforthem.”
“Butyouneedtostartlookingatthebiggerpicture.Where’syourbusinessnow?Youpressedthebuttonandimplodedthat,justbecauseyouscreweduponetimeandthatbridetrashedyouonline.”Moresewingnoises.“Youbrokeyourownheartonthat,andyouneedtoforgiveyourselfforit.”
Ichewmythumbnailandstubbornlysaynothing.
“Justgoandunpickyourmistakeandkeeponsewing.Heisnotcoping,Darce,thatmuchispainfullyobvious.Findoutwhatyoucandoforhimanddoit.”
Ipullopentheslidingdoorandthesoundcauseshalfofthecrewtolookaround.Fuckit.Let’sseeifIcanunpickthis.
“Hey,guys,aquickword.”ItrytonotnoticehowTom’sarmshavecrossed,hisfacetakingonacareful,neutralexpression.He’sexpectingablazeofgloryrightnow.
“SoIjumpedthegunearlier.Apparently,youhavetheend-of-jobpartyattheendofthejob.”There’slaughter.“Mybad.I’llorderpizzaforeveryonetomorrow.Eatingitherewithnoalcoholwhatsoever.Thenweallresumeworkingourassesoff.That’smybestoffer.”
There’snogrumbling.Infact,theycheer,abiga-heeeeey!
That’sbecausepizzaisapreciousnaturalresource.Itcanhealtiredness,badmood,fallingmorale,andafadingwilltolive.Pizzarealignstheheartchakras.ItcanmakeTom’sarmsloosenanddroptohissides.Itcanmakehiseyessparkwithhumor.Hesmilesandshakeshishead.
Itmakeshimlookatmelikehelovesmeagain,andthat’swhypizzaisthegreatest.
“Okay.PizzapartyonFriday.Nowgetyourassesbacktowork.Thatmeansyoutoo,Darcy.”
Lateintheafternoon,Tomapproachesme.He’stired,withpaperworkinhishands.Hisphonehasbeencryinglikeababyallafternoon.“I’mgoingdowntothegymtotakeashower.”
Iwanttothankhimforthementalimage.“Thegymhasapool,doesn’tit?”
“Idon’thavetime.”
“Getinthewater.Eventenminutes.It’swhatyouneed.”Heneedstime.HowcanIgivehimmoretime?Comeon,Loretta.Givemeasign.WhatcanIdo?HowcanIinstillabitofcalminhislife?
Hisphonebeginsringing,anditbecomessoobviousIwanttoslapmyself.Iputmyarmsaroundhiswaistandpullhisphonefromhisbackpocket.
“ValeskaBuildingServices.Darcyspeaking.Yep,Icangetbacktoyouonthat.”Ipullapieceofpaperfrommybackpocketandwrite,Tilecolor?“Yep.Inthemorning.Bye.”
Hestaresatme.IhavenoideaifI’mabouttobescreamedat.
Thephoneringsagain.“I’dbetterbuyanotepad.ValeskaBuildingServices.Darcyspeaking.What?Alex.I’mansweringTom’sphonefromnowon.Ifyouleftyourphonehere,itstayshereuntilthemorning.Idon’tknow!WatchTV.Yep.Bye.”Ihangup.“Nomessagerequired.”
“You’renotasecretary,you’remyclient.”Tomgrabsatitwhenitringsagain.Iholdupmyfingerandansweritagain.
“Sure,butit’llhavetobethemorning.”Iwritedown,Rentalequipmentconfirmation.“He’sfinishedfortheday.Bye.”
Iputhisphoneinmybackpocket,anditfeelslikeitbelongsthere.
“Go.Ifyoudon’tcomebackwithchlorineonyou,I’mgoingtobepissedoff.I’llclearyourvoicemailandwritealistofquestionsforyou.I’llcallthemback.It’sgoingtobeokay.”
“Darce.”Hisvoiceiswretchedwithgratitudeandhisbodydroopswithexhaustion.Helookslikehewantstogetdownonhiskneesandkissthetoeofmyboot.
“Don’tcry.”Ipathisshoulder.“It’sjustafewmessages.”Chapter16
It’salateFridaynightaftermybarshiftwhenIfindTom,stillhardatworkathisdesk.Justthesightofhim,sittinginthesameroomasmybed,cracklesthroughmysynapsesandobliteratesmyexhaustion.
Helooksupatmeandhiseyesdon’tchange.He’sexhausted.
“Hi.DidyoucallTerryback,byanychance?”Heclencheshisjawtorepresshisyawn.I’mprettysureIcompletelyhallucinatedthatmomentwhenhetoldmeIwassexy.
“Yeah.Thatguy’sajerk.”Iunhookmyearringsandtossmyjacketonmybed.Myfeetache.Scratchthat:everythingaches.IwonderifwehaveanypizzaleftoverfromoursecondFridayworksitepizzaparty.I’malegendaroundtheseparts.IthinkifIdon’tbuypizzaagainthisweek,I’llbreakhearts.
Heturnsinhischair,expressionapologetic.“Iknow.That’swhyIhatecallinghim.”
“Luckily,he’smethismatchandIout-jerkedhim.”Iconsultmynotebook.“Hesaidhe’sgivingusadiscount.Ithoughtwe’dfinisheddemolition.”
“There’ssomespecialiststuffthatwecan’tdoourselves.Yeah,”hesaysasheseesmeturn,nostrilsflared.“Iswamagain.Idon’tknowhowyoucanalwayssmellit.”Hesmellshisownforearm.“Idoshowerafter,honest.”
“Sothat’swhyyou’rehalfwaybacktoyourself.Iswear,yournaturalstateisdrippingwet.Tothink,youcouldn’tswimwhenwefirstmetyou.LuckyJamietaughtyou.”
He’sremembering.“IsawyourpoolanddecidedI’dbetterlearnquick.Jamieonlyteasedmeaboutitforlike,fivesolidyears,butanyway.”Hismouthliftsinasmile.“Youtaughtme,actually.”
“No,Jamiedid.”
“Whilehewasbusyshowingoffhowgreathisdiveswere,youweretheoneactuallyshowingmewhattodo.Underthewater,sohecouldn’tsee,you’dpullmealongbymyhand.”Heblowsoutabreath.“Shit,Darce,Ihaveknownyouforsolong.”
Thepastscrollsout.There’ssomuchtolose.That’swhyI’vegottakeeptreadingwatercarefully.
HeknowsIneedasubjectchange.“Speakingofgettingbacktoyourself,Ilookedthroughyourcamera.”
“Oh.Okay.”Idon’tliketheguiltylookinhiseyes.“It’sfinethatyoudid.It’sjustprogressshotsforJamie.”
“That’snotallthat’sonthere.You’vebeentakingphotosofpeople.ThatoneofColinlookingthroughtheholeinthewall?You’resogood.”Heglows.
Itakeadeepbreath.“Thankyou.Imean,theywerejustforfun.It’sweird,butIthinkColinismymuse.He’ssocraggy.”
“He’sthelastpersonIwouldhavepickedtobeyourmuse.Ithoughtforsureitwould’vebeenAlex.”MyfriendshipwithAlexgratesonTom.
“Alex’sfacehasnobones.”IwatchTomthinkaboutthat.“Nobones,noshadows,Darcyisnotinspired.”
“Butyouhavebeeninspired.That’sgood.”
“Youswimforme.Idecidedtotrysomethingforyou.”IopenafolderonmycomputertoshowTommynewproject.“How’sthisfortakingphotosofrealshit,andofmyownvolition?”
Inmyhalf-hourbreakatthebar,Ishotaninterestingreelofbikerbeards,tattoos,andgrizzledstares.Itwasastonishinghowquicklythesedangerous-lookingmensubmittedtomyrequestforaportrait.“Irealizedhowmuchbetteritis,takingphotosoffacesthathaveseensomehardtimes.Iwon’tbehoundingyouanymore.You’retoogorgeous.”
Helaughslikehe’sflatteredandhisT-shirttouchesmybackashelooksattheportraits.Iscrollthroughslowly.“I’mquittingtheresoon,butI’mgladIrealizedIshoulddothisbeforeIdo.Thisonetoldmethatnoone’severwantedaphotoofhimbefore.”
ItipmyheadupandwatchTomasheconsidersthefrighteningfaceonthescreen.Thisisthepartofmylifehehates.Themessy,dirty,scaryplace.Theprotectorinhimisdesperatetopullmeaway,butheforceshimselftoexhale.
“I’msurehe’shadafewmugshots,”Tomreplies,scratchinghisjaw.“He’slookingatthecameralikehe’sneverhadsuchabeautifulgirlasktotakehisphoto.”
Myheartskipstwobeats.Possiblythree.“I’mgoingtogetsomesunsetshotsoftheguysfuckingaroundintheparkinglot.Didyouknowthattheirpatchesmeandifferentthings,likecodes?Iwanttoshootthem.Idon’tknowwhy.Ijustfeellike…collectingthem.”
“Becareful,DB.Iknowyouhandleyourself,butjust—”Hestopshimself.“Idon’thavetotellyouthat.Whatcouldyouusethesephotosfor?”
“Iguessanexhibition.”Ihearthereluctanceinmyownvoice.WinningtheRosburghprizeandwatchingJamieworkthecrowdhasruinedthatroom-full-of-peopleprospectforme.It’sastonishinghowvividitstillfeels,evenafteralltheseyears.Myaccomplishment—arguablythepeakofmycareer—wastheresultofmybrotherexisting.Somethingaboutwatchinghimposebeneathhisownportraithadcrackedsomethinginsideme.
“Ijustrealizedthatwinningthatprizewastheworstthingthateverhappenedtome.ItmademebelieveIcan’tdoanythingwithoutJamie.”
TomleansoverandsnagsoneofTruly’sUnderswearslookbooks.Itturnedoutreallywellfromtheprinters.Heputsitonmykeyboard.“Well,weknowthat’snottrue.Whataboutanartbook?”
Iconsiderit.Tom’ssosmart.“Icouldstartpostingsomeonsocialmedia,getafollowing,thentrytogetabookdeal.Icouldphotographdifferentclubsfromallovertheworld.”
Hisforearmwrapsaroundmycollarboneinahug.Itfeelslikeaninvoluntarymove.Likehehasto.“Oryoucouldfocusonthisclubandbebackinbedwhereyoubelong.”
“Don’tworry,Istilldon’thaveapassport.”Itouchmyfingersonthesealedenvelope.“Ihaven’tgotastamp.”Iletmyselfleanbackonhim.Justalittle.Ifeelthepleasurepurroutofhim,intome,andit’sincrediblewhatwecancreatetogetherwhenwestoptrying.Iputmyhandonhisforearmandclosemyeyes.
“YouknowthisisthelongestI’velivedinoneplacesinceIwaseighteen?”
“Ididknowthat.Howdoeslivingintheoneplacefeel?”
“Itfeelsnice.ButIdon’twanttoadmitit.”Iopenmyeyes.“Youdon’tliveintheoneplaceeither.”
“No.Probablywon’tforalongtime.”Hisarmslidesoffme,andI’mcold.
Hechangesthesubjectabruptly.“You’renotworkingtomorrownight,right?ItwasbroughttomyattentionrecentlythatIhavenolife.”
“Idon’thavealifeeither.Don’tbetakingadvicefromsomeonewhocan’twalkuptwoflightsofstairsoreatfreshgreensbeforetheyrot.”Icanadmitthetruthinthishalf-light.Istandupandtrytoescapethisawkwardconfession,maybetakeadipinthefishpondtocoolmyembarrassedflush,buthejustpressesmetohisbodyinadelicioussqueeze.
“I’mworriedsickaboutyou.”Hewhispersitabovemyhead.
“I’mokay,”Isaytohisflawlessheart,beatingsostrongbeneathmycheek.
“AllIwantistotakecareofyou,butyoumakeitsohard.”
“IknowIdo.Butifit’sgoingtofeelthisgood,maybeIshouldletyoufussoverme.Justalittle,sometimes,whennoone’swatching.”
“Youbetternotbemessingwithme.”He’stuckingmecloser,threadinghisforearmupmyback,cuppingmyhead.“Iknowaone-chanceofferwhenIseeone.”Healwayshasbeensmarterthanme.
Iwhisperit.“It’sonlyyouthatcanfuss,though.Nooneelse.”
“It’llbehardformetofussoveryouwhenyou’reinadifferenthemisphere.”
Ithinkoftheairportdepartureloungeanditdoesn’tgivemethesametingle.Bus,train,andplaneroutesbranchoutinmyimaginationfromeveryinternationalairportI’vearrivedin.AllIfeelistired.“Don’tyouwanttogoplaces?”
“I’mnotbravelikeyou,Darce.WhenItakeavacation,I’llstartsmall.”Hesmileslikehefeelsfoolish.“Thebeachinfrontofyourparents’housewasascloseasI’vecometoavacationinyears.AndIdidn’tevengetinthewater.Sad,Iguess,tosomeonelikeyou.”Heeasesbackfromme.“Maybewecangetalifetogethersometime,beforeyouleave.”
Ididn’texpectthat.“Whatdoyouwanttodo?”
“Idon’tknow.Ihaven’tdonethisinalongtime.Butyou’rethebestpersonIknowtoteachme.Let’sjustgogetadrinktocelebrate.Twoweeksintotherenovation.Ineedtotalktoyouaboutsomethingimportant.”
Istiffeninterror.“Ohfuck.Justtellmenow.”
Heshakeshishead.“Trustme.”
***
IT’SOURFAKEdatenight.Tomwantstotalktomeaboutsomething,andIthinkit’ssomethingimportant,andrelatedtothesexualfogwe’reblunderingaroundin.Ihaveneverbeenthisnervouswaitingforaman.
He’stalkingtosomeguysatthesideofthehouse.Theyarealllookingupattheroof.It’shardtogetusedtothefactthatmyhouseisnowagroupproject.OneofthemsayssomethingthatmakesTom’sheadturntowardme.
“Yeah,thisisnotagirlyoukeepwaiting,”Ihearhimreply.“Callmeifyouhaveanyproblems.”
“Don’tmakemedragyou,”Icallouttohim.
“Shewould,”hesayswithalaugh.There’ssomehandshakingandnowhe’swalkingupthedrivewaytomeinhiscleanget-a-lifeclothesandIthinkabouthowbeinganadultsuitshim.
Asateenager,hewassweetandstraightforward,withzeroideaofhisownappealashehauledhimselfoutofswimmingpoolswhileeverygirl—andsomeoftheboys—inthebleacherspausedtheirmusicandleanedforward.Lookingbackonit,Iwasinsaneforhim.
Nowhe’sgotthishugeshapethatIcan’tgetusedto,allstackedsmoothlyintohisclothes.Hisstomachisflatunderthewaistofhisnicejeansandwitheachstepthedenimgoestightacrossthethighs.Therearesomanystepsupthedrive.Bythetimehereachesme,Ineedadefibrillator.
“Youokay?”
“Yeah.I’mfine.Whataretheydoing?”Iwatchassomeladdersareunfoldedagainstthesideofthehouse.“They’rehereonaSaturday?That’sweird.”
Heherdsmeupthedrive.“They’rejustdoingsomemoreassessing.Wedon’tneedtobehere.”
“Wellthankgoodnessforthat,becauseI’mtakingyououttogetalife.”
It’sfunny,IalmostfeellikeLorettaishereinthismoment.IfIturnmyheadjustright,she’satthefrontdoor,watchingus.Athrobofangersurprisesme.ShetoldmeIshouldlethimgo.Sheboughtmeaplaneticket.WhatwassobadaboutmethatIhadtoberemoved?BeforeIhurtthisgood,pureperson?
“Let’stakeacab.Idon’tthinkI’veeverseenyouremotelydrunk.”Itrytopicturewhathemightbelikewithalittlelessself-control.Canhedance?Canhekiss?
“I’vegotanearlystart,”hesays,likehedoeseverynightofhislife.Hishandsareonmywaist,I’mgivenaliftandaboostintothepassengerseat,andbythetimeI’vecaughtmybreathfromthecontactwe’redrivingdownMarlinStreet.
Heglancestome.“Pleasedon’tsaywe’regoingtoyourbar.I’dliketoremainalivetonight.”
Ipointandhefollowsmydirection.“We’llgotoSully’s.Let’shaveadrink,andwecanpracticeflirtingwithafewstrangers.Andthenyoucanbailmeoutofjail.”HelaughsatthatandIchangetheradiooverandover.Everysongisabouthearts.“Haveyouheardfrommybrothertoday?”
Tomsighs.“OfcourseIhave.Manytimes.Yourphotosaretheonlythingkeepinghimfromgettingonaplane.”
“Whatwillyoudoifheshowsup?”Iturninmyseat,justtowatchhisprofile.
We’reatanintersection,andIwatchhimashewaits,onehandontheshifter.Whataluxurytobeabletoclosemyeyesandfeelthecarefulturnofthecar;nosquealingtireordiggingmynailsintothesideofmyseat.
“Ifheshowsup?”Tomconsidersthequestion.“I’lldowhatI’vealwaysdone.I’lldealwithhim.”
“That’ssomethingI’venevergotten.Imean,Iknowhe’sfunwhenhe’sintherightmood.Buthowisanythingworththestressheputsyouthrough?Howhaveyoustayedhisfriendalltheseyears?”
Idon’texpectananswerandhedoesn’tgivemeone.
Hisfingerstouchmybackaswewalkthroughthecrowdandfindtwostoolsatthebar.There’salivebanddoingcoversofoldeightiessongs,andthebartendersdon’thavetoabuseanyone.TheDevil’sEndisanashtrayincomparisontothisplace.
Itrytokeepmyfocusonthetaskathand:showingTomhowtoenjoyhimself.It’shard,becauseI’mnervousandhe’sjuststaringatme.
“Okay.Gettingalife,stepone:Getadrink.”
“IthinkIknowhowtodothatpart,”hesays,andordershimselfabeer,andaglassofwineforme.Thefemalebartenderblinksfastwhensheregistershisgloryandgivesmeacongratulatorylook.
“I’llpay.”Iscramble,buthehandsoverpayment.
“Ibetyoupayforpeoplealot.Butit’smyturn.LetmespoilDarcyBarrettalittle.”Hetakeshischange.“Letmegetatasteofthatfeeling.”
Irelentandtakemyglass.Ifeelit,glowingoutofhim:exceptional,goldenhappiness.Helooksathisphone,texts,andputsitonsilent.Thenhefocusesonme.
“Lookatme,livingmyactuallifeafterwork.”Hesmilesatmeandtheroomrecedes.“Ican’tbelieveIhavenoonetocallback.Areyouallright?Youseemnervous.”
He’sgorgeous.Iwanthim.It’shardtocarryonapoliteconversationwhenthosearetheonlytwothoughtsinyourbrain.Buthe’snoticingmydumbsilenceandIneedtomakeaneffort.“I’mnervousashell.Youwanttotalktomeaboutsomething.Idon’tdowellinthesemysterysituations.”
I’mfeelingweirdlyyoungandoutofmydepth.Weak,woozyadrenalineisinmyblood.Hedecidestoproceedlikethisissomethingwedotogetherallthetime.
“Jamieforwardedmetheselfieyourmomtook,afteryourhaircut.”HescrollsbackthroughapproximatelyamilliontextsfromJamie.It’sMom,withatearrollingdownhercheek.Ilaughandtheknotoftensionleaves.
“Iwishshe’dneverlearnedhowtotakeselfies.Imagineher,tryingtoholdperfectlystillwiththetearinpositionwhileshefumbledaroundwithherphone.”Ishakemyhead.“Shesentonethismorning,showingmehermakeup,butlookatDadinthebackground.Iamscarredforlife.”
There’sMom’simpressiveeyelinerartistryinthewhitecavernousbathroom.Inthebackgroundoftheshot,mydadisonthetoiletwithhispantsaroundhisankles,hisfacepuregrievance.
“Yourdadonthethrone.”Tomlaughs.“Idon’tknowhowIeverfoundmywayintosucharoyalfamily.”
Istretchhappilyonmystoolanddanglemybootsbackandforth.Ihaveneverbeenthishappy.Couldthisbelifeforthenextthreemonths?It’ssosupremelylivable.
“Tigersareverynobleanimals,”Iremindhim.HisnicknamefromDadhasalwaysbeensomethingthatmakeshimamixofembarrassedandpleased,eyesnarrowingtofocusonsomething,hisfaceturningaway.
“I’mlucky”isallhecansay,touchinghisfingersontheengravedwatchhewears.Iknowheneedsmetochangethesubjectverybadly.
“Canwedothiseverynightfortheentirerenovation?”Ismileathiswitheringsidewaysglare.“Yeah,yeah.Itwasworthatry.”
Ifeeltheshoulderofmytankslipforthetenthtimeanddon’tbotherfixingitanymore.Thisbrastrapisprettyenoughfortherealworld.
Hetakesmyphoneandlooksatthepictureofmyparentsagain.“Theymademerealizethingsweren’trightwithMegan.”
“Whatdidtheysay?”Iamincensed
“Theydidn’tsayanything.Youknowwhatthey’relike,”hesays,aneyenarrowedinaffection.
Idoknowwhatthey’relike.Growingup,theunofficialSunday-morningmottowasDoorlocked?Earsblocked.“ItwaswhenIwasfinishingtheirdeck.Yourmomwasmakingmeasandwich,andyourdadcomesupbehindherandkinda…smellsherneck.”He’sembarrassed.“Forgetit.”
“No,keepgoing,”Isaywithreluctance.
“Sheobviouslysmellssogoodtohim.Thingshadn’tbeenrightwithmeandMegsforalongtime.Imean,thediamondringdidhelpforawhile.ButIdecidedthatnexttimeIwashome,I’dwalkupbehindherandsmellherneck.Seewhatwouldhappen.Maybeitwouldrekindlethespark.”
HowveryValeska,prowlingandsniffing.“And?No,wait.I’mnotsureIwannahear.”
“Shesmelledwrongtome.Notbad,butjust…wrong.ShepushedmeoffandtoldmeIwassweaty.Irealizedthenitwasn’tgoingtoworkanymore.Wewerenevergoingtobelikeyourparents,retired,stillinlove.I’veneverjust…electrifiedMegs,andshedeservesthat.”He’sclearlybeenholdinginthatconfession.“SheandItalkedallnightandagreed.She’sbeensadderaboutthering,actually.”
“Didshegiveitback?”Jamiesaidshehasn’t.Tomnodsyes.NowIdon’tknowwhotobelieve.Ordinarilyitwouldbenocontest,butrightnow,he’scarefullylookingawayovermyshoulderatthecrowd,notmeetingmystare.
“Youmustmisshersomuch.Iknowwhatit’sliketolosesomeonewho’sbeenapartofyouforsolong.Imean,it’sobviouslynottheexactsamething.”Icringealittle.Ireallyhaven’tgivenhimmuchsupport.“Areyoudoingokay,sincebreakingupwithher?Youcantalktome,youknow.Asafriend,anytime.”
“Youhaven’tlostyourbrother.Andyeah.Imissheralot.Butjustinahabitualway.”Hedeliberatesforaminute.“She’sdatingsomeoneelsealready.”
“What?”Isayittooloudandoutraged.Mymindfillswithangryhornets.There’snooneelsebuthimworthhaving.ButIhavetomoderatemyself.“Okay.Howdoyoufeelaboutthat?”
“Ifeel…fine.IknowIshouldfeelsomethingwhenIthinkofherwithhim,butIjustdon’t.”
Irememberhisinhaleatmyshoulderonthatfirstmorningoftherenovationandthewayheheldit.Thewarmexhalationblowingdownmytank.DidIsmellright?Idecidetoforgeonaheadwithourevening.
“Isaidwe’dpracticeflirtingwithstrangerstonight,butwhat’sgoingon?Noonewantsus.You’resogorgeous,Tom.”IwonderifIhavethestomachtowatchhimtalktoanotherwoman.“AndIreallymighthavemadeamistakewiththishaircut.”
InoticeTom’ssneakerisplantedonthebottomrungofmystool,hislegforminganobviousbarrier.
“Weird,”hesays,deadpan.Ashisamusementfades,anewworryfiltersacrosshisface.“Flirtingwithstrangers.HowamIsupposedtorememberhowtodothis?”
“Justwingit.Beyourusualperfectself.”Inudgehisfootaway.I’vegottotrythis.I’vegottogivehimachancetoseewhatlifeafterMeganislike.
Weswivelawayfromeachotheruntilthecrowdblendsagain,freshfacesmoveforward,andagirllooksover.She’sapetitelittledarling.Shesmilesathim,andhetentativelysmilesback
No.Idon’thavethestomachforit.Imakeeyecontactwiththesmilerandmouth,Fuckoff.Shedoes.
“Putyourfootback,”Iinstruct,andhelaughsinresponse,aflashinhisexpressionlikehe’sthrilled,downtothegut.
Inmyearhesays,“Youlittleanimal.”Andnotlikeit’sabadthing.
Ipourwineintomymouth.“Justpracticeflirtingonme,soIdon’tendupondeathrow.”
Tomspotssomethingorsomeone.There’safrownonhisbrow,thenheturnsbacktomewithanideainhiseyes.HeputsahandbetweenmylegsanddragsmystoolcloseruntilI’mintheframeofhisspreaddenimthighs.It’sthebestseatinthegoddamnhouse.
Thewarmthofhisskinengulfsmeandthenoisefromtheroomrecedes.Hishandcupsmyjaw;myfaceistiltedandhespeaksintomyear.
“Don’tlooknow.”Chapter17
TheroomcouldbefilledwithredsmokeandclownsforallIcare.MyjawisinhispalmandI’mnotmovingit.“Don’tlookatwhat?”
“Vinceishere.Withsomeoneelse.Blond,earlytwenties.He’sseenus.”Aftertrailinghisfingersdownmythroat,hehandsmemywineglass.It’sthesmoothmoveofaconsummatewomanizer.That’showIknowit’sfake.
“Oh,”Isayafterabeat.MyheartissinkingbecauseIknowwhatTomisdoing.He’sagoodfriend,puttingalittleprotectivepaddingonmyego.Asetofmusclestoflirtwith.Akitty-cat’sscratchingpost.“Yeah,thisishislocal.He’sherealmosteverynight.”
“Isthatwhyyoubroughtmehere?”
“Relax,baby,”Itellhim,andlinkmyfingersintohisandsqueeze.“You’renotpartofarevengeplot.You’rethebeautiful,irreplaceableTomValeskaandIamtheluckiestwomanalivetobesittingbetweenyourthighs.”Igetapingoftriumphwhenhisworryisreplacedbyamusementandhelooksdownatourlegs.“Considermeelectrified.”
Iputmyhandonhisbicepandsqueeze.IfI’mnotcareful,I’llslideit.Okay,whoops,it’ssliding.Toolatetodoanythingaboutit.Iwatchmyselffeeluptohisshoulder,digtheblacknailsin,andthenmaketheglidetohiscollarbone.
“Whythefuckwouldhewanttobewithsomeoneelse?”Hetakesanothersidewaysglance.“Imean,I’msureshe’sanicepersonbut…”HelooksbackatmewithahotgazeandIknowtheendofthatsentence.She’sgotnothingonme.
IshowtheindifferenceIknowhecraves.“Hecandowhathewantswithhistime.Heisn’tmine.”
“Hasanyoneeverbeenyours?”Hisfingersareonmyshoulderandmybrainemptiesout.“Don’tanswerthat.”
“Ofcoursenot.”Ihaveafull-bodyshiver.“Oncesomeone’smine,they’regonnastaymine.Onehundredpercent,forever.YouknowwhatI’mlike.”
Heleansdownandtipshisfaceintothecurveofmynecktospeakoverthemusic.He’sjustkeepingupthefa?adeforouraudience.“Ifyouhadsomeone,youwouldn’tbesittingherewithsomerandomguyalloveryou.”
“You’renotsomerandomguy.”Ialmostsay,You’retheguy.ButthankfullyI’vestillgotalittleofthesaferhumiliationleftinmybloodstream.“I’dbesittingherewithmyguyandI’dbealloverhim.”
Hepullsbackandournosesgraze;we’reagonizinglyclosetoakiss.Hiseyebrowquirksatwhatevermyexpressionis.“Whatifhedoesn’twanttobeconsumed,bodyandsoul?”
Myconfidencesizzlesout.“Iguess…IguessI’djusthavetohope…”Everythingpullsbackintofocus.We’retalkingaboutamanwhowillnotbeTom.Itrytoturnbacktothebarbuthiskneespresstight.
“Hey,”hesays,andstrokesmycheekbonewithhisthumb.“I’msorry.He’llloveit.He’llonlywantyourhands.”Hehesitates,thenplunges.“BeingthefullfocusofDarcyBarrettissomethingelse,letmetellyou.It’sintense.”
“Yeah,Iknow.Kitchen-smashingintense.”Ireachformywine.“Hopefullywhoeverendsupminewillknowbeforehandexactlywhathe’sgottenhimselfinto.”
Gotteninto?Itsoundstooclosetogetinme.Ineedtomakethisconversationbealittlemorerhetorical.“Whatkindofguywouldyouapproveofforme?”
Thisshouldbetheperfectthingtosay.It’slight,it’sneutral,anditcoversupeverythingthathasbeenscribblingsoconfusinglyinsideme.ButI’vesaidthewrongthing.Hisentirebodyflexes.Thebigkneessqueeze,thefingersonhishandclose,andhisjawbarelyletsthewordsout.“Noone.”
Evenifhe’sjealous,it’spointless.Ilookacrosstheroom.There’sVincewithablondgirl.Herfaceislitupbluefromherphonescreen.Igivehimanod,andhenodsback,glum.
“Haha,he’shavingtheworstnight.”There’snotevenablipofemotioninsideme.
AssoonasI’mlookingbackatTom,nooneelseexists.I’mbeginningtothinkthatit’sgoingtobethecaseforlife.It’swhyIreallyshouldmakeanefforttofindmysilvermedal.“Please,tellme.Whatkindofguy?”
TomrespondslikeI’mtestinghispatience.“There’snooneintheworldI’dchooseforyou.He’sstilllooking,then?”Heweavesmybrastrapbetweenhisfingers.“Youwearsomefancystuffaroundmybuildingsite.”
ThelacestretchestightandIfeeliteverywhere.“Onlyuptop.Downbelow,it’snothingbutsturdy,abusivecotton.”
“Whatdotheysay?Rightnow?”
“Ohyeah.Theysay…”Ileanuptohisear.“Noneofyourbusiness.”
“YourjeansaretightenoughthatIcanalmostmakeitout.”Hisfingersareonmyhipsnow,slidingintomybeltloops.Thetinytughegivesmerocksmeanotherhalfinchintohim.I’mturnedon.Inpublic,onanothergoddamnstool.
“Hey,you’reblushing.That’saprettypink.”Hepressesakissonmycheekbone,sitsback,andsmirksinVince’sdirection.
Witheachsecond,thelightischangingontheplanesofTom’sfaceandhe’slookingmorelikeastranger.Icouldn’tcarelessifVinceiswatching.“Iswear,ifyou’rejustmessingwithme…”
Hiseyessparkinmemory,andheusesmyownwords.“Whatisitlike,beingmessedwithbyme?”
“You’resogoodatit,I’mstartingtosweat.”Iblowoutabreath.“Seriously,don’ttrythisonanyoneelsetonight.I’llbreakherface.”
“IfIwasreallygoodatthis,I’dtellyouwhatI’ddowhenIgotyouhome.”Hevisiblycheckshimself,sittingstraighter,reachingforhisbeer.Hesipsitandhiseyeslookathiswatch.
Meanwhile,mybodyisabsorbingwhathejustsaid,anditneedsananswer.“Comeback.Don’tstop.”
Heputshishandonmybareshoulderandthere’saslow,warmsqueeze.Mynipplespinch.Heseeseverything,throughthelaceandthesilk.Iknowhedoes,becausehisorange-stripeeyesaregoingblack.“I’vebeenwondering.Whatdoeshungryskinfeellike?”
“Ijuststartfeelinghollow,andlonely.”MythroatissodryIhavetopickupmywineglassandtipitallintomymouth.Histouchbringsmerelief,butalsoarestlessness.Therearetoomanypeopleinthisroom.They’reallabunchoflaughing,drinkingjerkswhodon’tknowthattheyneedtogetout.Thisismyroomandmyperson.
He’swatchinghisownhandashetouchesme.It’sunbearablysexy.“Idon’tlikethethoughtofyoubeingallhungry.”
SomeonejostlesmeandTom’seyelinecutsabovemyhead.Hetransmitsamalewarning:Don’ttouchher.Theairbehindmequicklycools,hisdenimkneesclaspgently,andherefocusesonme.It’sintoxicating,beingtuckedsosafeinsidethisgoldbubble.
Ireallyneedtokeepupwiththisconversation.“Ijustgetcrabbyandirritated.Bigsurprise,IknowI’malwayslikethat.ButIjustneedtofeelsomeoneelse…Iteasesoffthesharpnessinside.Itreallyisanactualthing.Skinhunger.Ireadastudyaboutit.”
“Ithinkit’sbecauseyou’reatwin,”Tomsays,andhishandliftsawayfromme,leavingmecold.“Youweresquasheduptogetherinthewombforsolong.”AtinyhologramofJamieishoveringsomewhere,PrincessLeia–like,inourvicinity.
“No,no,comeback.”Ipresshishandbackdownontomyskinandalthoughhismouthhasahintofdisapproval,hestrokesmeinawaythatfeelslikepraise.
“Likearosepetal,DB.”Thefingertipstrail,gentlerthanIthoughtpossible;he’sthinkingaboutmysoftnessandit’smakingmecrazy.He’sgettingshy,thenglancescasuallytoonesideatVince.Whenhelooksbackhe’sgotanedgetohisstare.
“Ifyouweremine,I’dbecarefulwithyou.Ibetthat’ssomethingyouhaven’thadmuchof.”
Mystomachfallsdownanelevatorshaft.Thosewords,spokenaloudinhisvoice,cracklethroughmysynapses,andrightnow,I’veneverbeenmorealive.Iamheartbeatandfulllungs.Ifyouweremine.Whatagloriousthoughttocrosshismind;Ineverimagineditwould.
“Whatelsewouldyoudo?”I’vegotthathuskyvoicehelikes.
Theanimalinhimishonestwithme.“Everything.Ifyouweremine,I’ddoeverything.”Ourgoldbubblelocksshut,andalittleuniversefillsit.Thepossibilitiesareinfinite.
“Ihaveabigimagination.Couldyoubemorespecific?”Iputmyhandonthesideofhisneckandstrokedowntothehardbarofhiscollarbone.Hisskinishotsatin.Hispulsenudgesme.
Mine,mine,mine.Onethousandpercentmineuntiltheendoftime.Helookslikeheagrees.
“Everythingyouwantedorneeded,I’ddoit.”Amazinghowhecankeepitclean,butitfeelssodirty.That’sthethingaboutgoodboys.
“Iwantandneedalot.”
Abigwhitesmilenow.“Nokidding.Well,I’mahardworker.”
Ineedtogettothereasonwe’reheretonight.It’ssoobvious.We’reabouttolaysomegroundrulesbeforewegohomeanddemolisheachother.
“So,arewehavingourtalk?”Whenhesaysnothing,Igesturewithmyfingertips.“Thebubbleisofficiallyinplace.”
Helookstooneside,likeit’ssomethinghe’dbeabletosee.He’salwaysgonealongwithmyimaginaryscenarios.Whenwemakeeyecontactagain,heseestheaffectioninme.ButwhatI’vesaidhastrippedhimupandhecan’tfindhiswords.
Itrytoleadhimintoit.“It’sprettyclearwhatweneedtotalkabout.”
Hesitsupstraightandletsoutabreath.There’saworriedpinchtohisbrowandanawkwardnessinhishandsashestraightenshisdrinkcoaster.“Iwantedtotalktoyouabouttakingthewalldownbetweenthekitchenandthelivingroom.”
I’mgoodatautomaticallylaughingwhenI’mdisappointed,andIdoitnow.Heprobablyknowsthatlittletic.Ipickupmyglassandit’sempty.“Okay,wedidn’tneedtogoouttotalkaboutthat.Theanswer’sno.”
Thecharadeslippedintoreal,andIfeltlikewewereonadate.ThatmaybeIcouldbehis.Thankgoodnesshe’snotlookingatmeanymore;I’mhotandembarrassed.He’sgotapenandhe’sdrawingonthebackofhiscoaster.It’safloorplanofthecottage.
“Buyerswantopen-planliving.Theseoldercottageswerealwaysbuiltassmallindividualrooms,sotheycouldbeheated.Butthewallsblocktheflowandlight.Ithinkthiswallneedstogo.”Hescribblesacrossalinetoshowme.
“That’sthefireplace.Wherewillthenewownerhanguptheirbras?”
“Theclothesline.Thiswallisn’tasupportingwall.Ifwejusttakeitout,thelightcomesinfromthreesides.Whenbuyerswalkin,they’llseeallthewaytothebackdoor,andthey’llthinkit’sabig,brightplace.”Tomtheprofessionalistalkingnow.“Theflooringwillallmatch,frontdoortoback,andthere’llbeasenseofflow.”
“Iknowwhatyou’resaying,butno.Thatfireplaceisasellingpoint.”I’msittinginabusinessmeeting.WhatonearthdidIexpect?“Ican’tbelieveyou’devenaskmethis.”
“Evenifabuyerdidwantafireplace,thatonehasgotseriousissues.Thebricksarecollapsinginward.Igotthequotefromthechimneyguy.It’llcostafortunetorestore.We’dhavetodemolishitandrebuildit.”
“Youcoulddothat,Ibet.It’sjustbricks.Youjustsaidyou’ddoeverything.That’swhatIwant.”
“ThenI’dhavetoredotheroofing,replaster,paint.Itakeitout,itsolvessomanyproblems.”Helookslikehe’sbeginningtopanic.Ican’tbereasonedwith.
“WhatdoesJamiesay?”
“Hesayshetrustsmyjudgment.”Heassessesmyface.“HaveI…hurtyourfeelings?”
EitherI’mterriblytransparent,orhe’sperceptive.IthinkIknowtheanswerfromalifetimetogether.Hecanpracticallyfeelthislittletightlumpinthebaseofmythroat.
“No.”Ifrownathimuntilhe’spartlyconvinced.“I’mjustsurprisedthatwe’retwo-thirdsofourwaytowardawallbeingknockeddown,andyou’retryingtoflirtmeintoagreeing.”
“Flirtyou,”heprotests,aguiltyflushonhischeekbones.“I’mnot.I’mjustrecommendingthebestoptionforyoursale.”Hethinksforamomentonhowtosellittome.
“Trytoimagineyou’rewakingonthecouchinthelivingroomafteranap.It’slateSundayafternoonandI’minthekitchencuttinguppotatoesonthemarblecountertop.Darceisgrouchyaftersleepandneedsfeeding.”
“Talkingaboutfloorplansisnothighonmylistofkinks.”Ilookupattheceiling.“Actually…Keeptalking.”
Hiseyescrinkle.“Youopenyoureyesandyoucanseeme.Nowall.There’slightjustfloodingthrough,andthereareflowersonadiningtablebetweenus.PinkorientalliliesthatIgotyou,justbecause.”
Icanseeit:ThedenimsaggingathisbuttandawhiteT-shirtstretchingtightacrosshisshouldersashestoopsoverthecountertop.Thepollen-powdersmellinmynostrils.Girlslikemekeeptheirfavoriteflowersasembarrassingsecrets,butheknows.
“Whatelsedoesthisfantasyfloorplanoffer?”
“Ilookoverandsay,‘Hey,you’reawake,’andyoustretchandsay,‘Tom,I’msogladIagreedtoletyoutakethatwalldown,it’simprovedthelayoutbeyondmywildestdreams.’”Herisksagrin.
“I’mprettysureI’dsaysomethingdifferentthanthat.‘Damn,thosejeans.Getoverhere.’”
I’mimaginingpattingthecouchnexttome.Hewalksoverwithahalfsmileandahandonhisbelt,vegetablesforgotten.It’sabeautifulfantasy,andit’sjustmademerealizethatIwantitbadly.Ahome.Beingdomesticated,caringaboutdinner.Adiningtableandflowers.Whowouldwantthatwithme?
“WasthisJamie’sidea?Drinkswiththedifficultclient?Nexttimeaskmequestionsabouthousestuffon-site.Thiswasunprofessional.”Itwistawayandsignaltothebartender.“Yoursecond-worstwhiskey,please.”
“Here’swhatjusthappened.”Hetakesmyhandinhis.“I’msittingnexttoDarcyBarrett,closeenoughtosmellherperfume,andshe’slookingatmewithaquestioninhereyes.AndIknowthequestion.IpanicandIblowit.I’mnotbravelikeyou,Darce.”
“I’mdonewithbeingthebraveone,becauseitreallydoesn’tfeelgreat,hangingoutonthisledgebymyself.Thenextbravethingiscomingfromyou.You’renottheonlyoneherewithsomethingtolose.”
“That’swhyI’mworkingsohardonthis.”
“Notthehouse.I’mgoingtoloseyou.I’mgoingtofuckthingsupwithyou.”Iputmyelbowsonthebarandmyfaceinmyhands.“Okay,actuallythatwasthelastbravethingIsaytoyou.”
“Youcan’tfuckthingsupwithme.”Hesaysitlikewe’refamily.Likehehastoforgiveme,nomatterwhatImaydo.
Ilooksidewaysathim.“FriendsandfamilyaretheonlyonesIhaveachanceofkeepingforever.Andthat’swhatIwant.Tokeepyou,forever.”
HenodslikeIhaven’tsaidsomethingtoointenseorstrange.“That’swhatIwant,too.”
“Weneedtobeeightyyearsold,hangingoutonacruiseshiptogether,laughingourassesoffaboutthisonedayHey,Tom,rememberthattimewhenouryoungbodiestriedtofuckupeverything?Yourwifewillbethere,andshe’ssomeoneIlike,becauseotherwiseIcan’thaveyouforever…”Itrailoff,andIfeelit,rightinmychest.Thatlittleoldticktock.“IfImakeittoeighty.”
He’saghast.“Ofcourseyouwill.”
“Iknowyoudidn’tmeanit,butyoutellingmethingsthatwillneverhappen?Notinthathouseandneverwithyou?Ithurts.Well,fuckit,ifit’ssoimportanttoyou,knockthegoddamnfireplacedown.”Iseizetheglassofwhiskeyandabsorbitintomyverybeing
Ican’ttakethelookinhiseyesandwalktothebathroom,andspendafewminutesjuststaringatmyselfinthemirror.Iwipeoffmylipstickandjammyfingersintomyremaininghair.IoverlayMeganontopofmeandmyeyesfillwithtears.Iwanttogotothesecondstallfromtheendandflushmyheart.Ifthisiswhatbeingbravefeelslike,colormeyellowfortherestofmylife.
WhenI’mcomposed,IpushbackoutintothemusicandlaughterandVincetakesmebytheelbow.“Hey.”
Ishakehimloose.“I’mherewithTom.”
“Icouldseethat,”Vincesays.He’snotjealous,becausethearrangementwehaveisaworthlesswasteoftime.“What’dItellyouabouthimfallinginlovewithyou?”
“Thatwon’thappen.”Icanheartheflatdesolationinmyvoice.“Ican’thaveaguylikethat.”
“Youcouldhaveonelikeme,though,”Vincesayswithasmile.“ThechickI’mherewithkeepstellingmeaboutherrescuerabbits.Let’sgetoutofhere.Texthimonthewayout.Savemefromgettingmyasskicked.”
“I’mnotgoingtodothattohim.”IsthisseriouslythekindofpersonhethinksIam?“YouthinkI’djustwalkoutofhereandleavehim?”
“You’vedoneittome.Darcy,youarehot,butyouareacompletebitch.”He’sprettymatter-of-factaboutit
“Hey,”Tomsays,materializingbesideus.He’sregardingusbothwithanunreadableexpression.“Fuckoff.”
“Noneedtoberude,”Vincesays,buthehasnosteelinhiswords.He’satriskofbeingstubbedoutlikeacigarette.
Tomstepsbehindmeandwrapsbotharmsaroundmybody.IfeellikeIsinksixinchesintohisribcage.We’remerging.Enveloping.Getinme.
“Don’tcomearound,don’tcallher.Don’tbother,”Tomsaysabovemyhead.It’sthatalphavoice.Itturnsheadsfromhalfwayacrosstheroom.“Gotit?OrdoyouwanttofindoutifI’mserious?”
“She’sgonnaleave,dude.”Vinceshrugsashoulder.“Shehaslefttownonmelike,sixtimesnow.Atleast.”
“Yeah,shewillleave,”Tomsays,andhiswordsrumblerightthroughme.“ButI’mhavingheraslongasIcanbeforeshedoes.”
Heturnsbothourbodiesandwe’rewalking,hisarmsstillaroundme.We’reacompassandwe’repointingtoabed.Vinceisflushedawaybehindus.Thecrowdpartsforus;eyesflickerfrommetoTom;womenlookjealous,themenaverttheireyes.
Whenwehalttoletabachelorettepartypassusinasuccessionoftiarasandfeatherboas,Itipmyheadback.HowcanIfeelthispowerful,wrappedinhismuscle?Becauseit’sminenow.“Younevertoldmewhatyouwoulddowithmewhenyougotmehome.”
“Ican’ttellyouthat,”Tomreplies,andwhenImissastepinthecrowdnearthedoor,hisbodypresseseventighteragainstmyback.Hishandfindsthehemofmytopandslidesin,aflatpalmacrossmystomach.“YouknowIcan’ttellyou.”
“AllIneedisaclue.”Toosoon,we’reoutonthesidewalk,theairsocolditburns.Iturninhisarmsbuthe’salreadysteppingback,hiswarmthreceding.Thewatchonhiswristfrommyfatherticks.
“I’dsaygoodnight,”hesayswithvisibledifficulty.He’sreininghimselfbackin,andithurtstowitness.Itlaborshislungsandtheveinsinhisinnerarmsarecords.“AndI’dmakesureyourdoorwaslocked.”
“Idon’tthinkso.”Thatbasshuminmybonesisback.Thattrash-a-kitchenfeeling.“I’daskyoureally,reallynicelytogivemewhatIwant.Everything,”Iremindhim.
Hiswhiteteethbiteintohisbottomlipandhelooksawaydownthestreet.There’ssomuchconflictinhiseyes.Finally,heconcedes,“IfIcould,Iprobablywould.”Itcomesoutofhim,roughandsoft,andhisblackpupilsareringedinviolentcolor.
I’veknownhimformostofmylife,butthismanisnowsomeoneIcan’tknow.
Notuntilwe’redowntoskinandsweatandkissing.That’sallI’lleverwantfromhim.Iwantthosewhiteperfectteeth.Iwantthatnarrow-eyedmalepossession,thatdon’ttouchher,thatbarrierhisbodycreatedtoblocktheworldout.Hisviciousfistunfoldedandhistrailingfingertipsgentleonmyskin.
Iwanttoprovokeandteaseuntilhegiveshimselftome,roughandtender.
There’snofurnitureleftinsideMaisondeDestin,soIguessit’swalls,sills,andbenchesforus.Wewouldn’tmakeittomybed.Idon’tcareifthisruinsus,orthehouse.Ineedtofeelhim,deep.Ineverwanttofeelhungryagain.
IwanttokissTomValeskauntileverythingfallsapart.
Imayaswellhavesaidallofthataloud,becausehecloseshiseyesbrieflyandwhenheopensthem,they’relikeflames.Chapter18
IhurrydownthebrokenfrontpathbecauseI’mchickeningoutinamajorway.
Thedrivehomewastenseenoughtobreakbones.Everyredlight,welookedateachotherandhadtograbontothecar.I’machingfromtheeffort.SonowI’mpossiblyabouttoputmymouthonmychildhoodfriend.TheonepersonleftthatIcan’tmessup.AndI’mthefirstwomanhe’llbewithsincehisepiceight-yearromance?
I’llbethesecondwomanhe’llsleepwith,andmeanwhile,mybodyhasfrequent-fliermiles?Ineedaminute.Ineedtosmellmyarmpitsandbrushmyteeth.IonlymakeittothefrontdoorbeforeIfeelTom’shandonmyarm.
“Comedownthesideofthehouse.”Hesquintsupatthesky.“Ithinkit’sgoingtorain.”Hemakesitsoundlikeverybadnews.
“Iwanttosaygoodbyetothefireplace.”I’mnotevenkidding.Iwanttositagainstit,andthinkaboutLoretta,andaskherinmymindforheradvice.
“It’snotsafeinthere.”Hetakesmyforearmsinhishands.“Thepower’soff.Comeon.”It’sweirdandoverlyinsistent.Hebeginstotugme,andmysuspiciondeepens.
“Why,what’sinhere?”Itwistawayandgetmykeyinthelock,kickthedooropenwithmytoe,andfinallyseewhyhe’sholdingmeback.
Myfireplaceisgone.
Whoevertookitdowndidn’tdoaparticularlyartfuljob.There’sapileofbricksremainingandaholeintheceiling,coveredoverbyatarp.Theworstpartis,Tomwasright.Thehousenowlookshuge,stretchingallthewaytothebackdoor.Iseenowwhatallofthiswas.
“DidJamietellyoutojustdoitandbegforgivenesslater?”Idon’tturnmyhead.Iknowtheanswer.“Specialistdemolition,huh?”
“Ihadtomakeadecisiononthespot.Icouldn’tgetthoseguysforanothertwoweeks,soI…”Heputshishandsonmywaistandturnsmetohim.“I’msorry.Iwashopingyouwouldn’tseeuntilthemorning.Iwasgoingtogetupearly—”
“Andyou’dsaythatyouhadsomeguysinatthecrackofdawn.I’dsay,Wow,how’dyoudothatsofast?Iclickmyfingers”—Isnaptheminhisface—“andmywishisgranted.You’rethegoodguyjustdoingwhatIaskedyoutodo.”
“Yeah.Thatwasmyplan.”Hiseyesgetalittlemean.“That’smyroleinyourfamily,right?I’vegottoachievewhateveryouguysneed,instantlyandperfectly.OrI’mout.”
“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”Whatabizarrethingtosay.“Ican’tbelieveyoutookmeoutofthehousewhilethishappened.”Itrytoshakehimoff.“Youwerecountingonthefactthatyoucangetmetosayyestoanything.”Howfuckingembarrassing.
“Iwascountingonyoubeingreasonableandtrustingmethatthisisthebestwayforward.”HeholdsmebackfirmerasIpushagainsthim.“There’sstuffalloverthefloor.It’sabuildingsite.Talktome.Yellatme.”
Outside,there’sarumblethatforasplitsecondIthinkisVince’scar.Lightflashes,andIrealizeit’sastorm,andit’srollingourway.Webothlookupatthenewholeintheceiling.Thetarppuffsupinthewind.
“Ohfuck,”Tombreathes.“Thisreallywasnotintheforecast.”
“Willitflood?”Istepoutofhishands.
“Ifthey’vedoneitright,itshouldn’tbetoobad,”hesays,buthiseyesaredoubtfulashelooksdownatthemessyhalf-finishedjob,thebricksandthedust.Hedropshisgriponme.“I’llgoupandcheck.”
“Sure,likeI’mlettingyougetonaroofatnightwhenit’sabouttorain.Youhavetolivewiththisnow.”IfeelsicksatisfactionwhenIseethelookinhiseyes.“Youthoughtthatyoucouldgetalittleretroactivepermissionforsomethingthathadalreadybeendone.So,let’sjuststayhereandseeifitleaks.Ihopeitdoes.”
“Thatmakesnosense.Thisisyourhouse.”
“I’mveryirrational.Ican’tbelieveyoudidn’tevenletmesaygoodbyetoit.”Anotherfreshwaveofangeranddisbeliefstranglesme.
“Toafireplace?”
“Yes,toafireplace.YouknewIlovedit.Youknewhowmuchitmeanttome.Yousaidwe’dlightitagainbeforethehousesold.”
“Youlivedhereonandoffforyears.Youcouldhavelititanytime.”Heleansashoulderonthedoorframeandlooksdownatmeinchallenge.“That’syou,though.Youjustthinkyoucanpickthingsupandputthemdown,andthey’llalwaysbethere.”
MyinsidesjumpandIscramblearoundforsomethingtodo.“Asidefrombeingspineless,andbowingtoJamielikealways,youwereunprofessional.”Ibenddownandpickuptwobricks.“Youknowyouwere.”
“Ihadoneowner’sagreement.”He’sdistracted,watchingmemovebackandforthacrosstheroom.“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Makinganeatpile.There’snothingleftformetodemolish,afterall.”Igoback,pickuptwomore,buthetakesmyhands,turnsthempalmup,andduststhemoff.PrincessModeactivated.
Theurgetoslaphischeekshocksme
“Iexpectedbetterfromyou.IfI’dopenedthefrontdoor,andthefireplacewasstillthere,itwouldhavebeenproofthatI’myourequalbusinesspartner.Butit’sobviousthatI’mjustanotherbitofredtapetogetaround.YouarealwaysgoingtochooseJamie.Always.”
“Isawawayofgettingmoremoneyinthesale.Thebudgetis—”heclampsdownontherestofthatsentence.“Iknowyoudon’tcareaboutmoney,butthat’sallIcareaboutrightnow.”
“Yousaidearlierthatwewereateam.Solet’swaithere,asateam.”Aspatterofrainhitstheporch,andagustofwindblowsthroughthehouselikeit’sjustcomestraightofftheocean.“Let’sseehowbadthisgets.”
Tonight,atthebar,soakinginhisattentionandlove?ItwasaglimpseofwhatI’llneverget.
Hisjawisgettingthatfamiliarstubbornedgetoit.“IsaidI’msorry.Iwantedtostayaheadofschedule,andIknewthiswastherightthingfortherenovation.Ifthishappens,thentheflooringcanhappenearly.I’mnotusedtohavingemotionsattachedtoahouseI’mworkingon,ormorethanonepersontoask.”
“Sorrytoinconvenienceyouwithmyfeelings.”Ibend,pickupbricks,andaddthemtomypile.“Mustberoughforyou,havingtoworkaroundmeandmytiresomegrandmothermemories.”Irealizethatthefloorboardsinfrontofwherethefireplacestoodarevisiblyworn.That’showoftenwestoodthere.Andit’sgone.“Thiswasn’tyourstoknockdown,Tom.”
“Ican’tunderstandbeingattachedtoafireplace.I’mnevergoingtoinheritanything.Mom’sbroke.Mydad,well.”Hehalflaughs,andit’sbitter.“Helastedaboutthreemonthsafterthepregnancytest.Consideryourselfluckytohavehadafireplaceinthefirstplace.”Itrytointerruptbuthewon’tletme.Whatheneedstosayhasbeenbuildinginsidehimalongtime.“Ihavealltheseemotionsandmemoriesfloatingaroundinsideme,butIhavenorighttoanyofthem.”It’stheclosestTomhasevercometocomplainingabouthissituationinlife.“I’mhiredtodothis.Thinkabouthowthatfeelsforme.”
Ipickupanotherbrick.“Asfaraswe’reconcerned,shewasyourgrandmother,too.”
“AllI’vegottoprovethatisanoldGarfieldkeyring.”It’sapainfullytruestatement.Hedidn’tgetanythinginherwill.Herealizesinstantlywhatthatsoundedlike,andadds,“ButIdidn’texpectanything.I’mnotaBarrett,afterall.”
Hebacksmeallthewaytothedoor,intothesafe,clearzonestripedbythestreetlight.“Stopdoingthat.”
Ibumpmyfistonmyheart.
“I’vealwaysbeenaninconvenience,myentirelife.RememberhowJamiewassodesperatetogotoDisney,andIjustcouldn’tgetwellenoughforit?”
“Yeah,”Tomsays,sympathetic.
“Iusedtolieinbed,angryatmyownheart.Ifitwouldjustcooperate,everythingwouldbeeasier.Jamiewouldbehappy.We’dallgoonafabulousvacation.Youaretheonlyonewhohasnevermademefeelthatway.”Mystrongvoicefalters.
“Darcy,thiswasn’taboutyou.Thiswasme,andmyinsaneneedtodoeverythingperfectly,aheadofschedule,underbudget.”
“Idon’texpectperfection,”Isay,buthejustlaughsbitterly.
“What’sthefirstthingyousaidtomewhenyougothomeandfoundmehere?Whatareyoudoinghere,TomValeska,world’smostperfectman?”Hepointsupattheceiling.“Here’syouranswer.I’mnot.YouholdmetoastandardIcannotpossiblyachieve.I’vebeentryingforyears,though.Believeme.”
“Youdon’thavetotryanymore.Justbeyou.Doyourbest.Fuckupifyouwant.”Icanseethestrainthathe’sbeenunder.It’sinthesetofhisjawandthetightnessofhisfists.He’salwaysthecalmcornerstoneholdingeverythingtogether,sincehewasakid,buyinggroceriesandputtingoutthegarbage.EverystaffmemberleftAldo,exceptTom.
Heputsouteveryfirearoundhimandhemakesitlookeasy.
It’snoteasy.
Heshakeshishead.“Youhaveaholeinyourroofandyouhavetearsinyoureyes.Iampermanentlyfallingshort.”
“Ithinkwe’regoingtodecidethatdoesn’tapplyanymore,”Isayandthewindblowsthroughus,rattlingthebackdoor.“Nomoreperfect.”
“Whenyougrowupdirt-poor,andadoptedlikearescuedog,youwilldoanythingtofitwhatyou’reneededfor.AndI’mfuckingup.Iam,Darcy.I’vefuckedupmynumbers.”
IfeelasenseofdreadwhenIlookathisbleakface.“Fuckeduphow?”
“ItoldthecrewI’dbringthemovertomycompanyonabetterrate.AndIhadanerrorinmyspreadsheet.Themostbasicerror,rightinmyface.IhavetopaythemtherateIpromised,plustheirmotel—soit’scomingoutofmymargin.I’mdoingthisforfree,basically.”Hesighs,resigned.
Theoverprotectivepartofmeoverrideseverything.Theangerandbetrayalarenowsilverandbronzemedalists.“I—”
“Don’tsayyou’regoingtofixit.Myproblem,Iamfixingit.IfJamiefindsoutaboutthis,I’mdone.Hewillneverletmeliveitdown.”
“Whydoyoucarewhatmybrotherthinksofyou?”
Hismouthgetsawrytwist.“Yourtwinbrother.”
We’recloseenoughthatIlookathismouth.Justquickly,aglance.Anothergustofwindblowsthroughmyclothesandhishandstightenonme.
“Whydoyouworksohardforus?”
“BecauseIdon’twanttoknowwhatit’sliketobelockedout.Everagain.”Hiseyesarestarkwithhonesty.“IwillfitwhatI’mneededfor.Don’tforget,Iwasthewrongfitonce.”
“You’vealwaysbeenexactlyright.IhavemeasuredeverysinglemanI’veevermetagainstyou.Noonecompares.That’sbeenscaringmealongtimenow,becausewhatdoyoudowhenyoucan’thaveyourdreamman?”
Hesaysnothing,butinsidehe’sonfire.Ifeelit.
“Youareperfect,TomValeska.Perfectforme.Doyouwantme,eventhoughI’mhardlyworthy?”
Lightningflashes.“I’vewantedyoumywholelife.”
“Thenhaveme.Chooseme.”
Hetakesonelaststabatdeterringme.“I’vefuckedup.I’mnotthepersonyouexpectmetobe.”
“Don’tcare.”
HisunforgettableeyesarethelastthingIseebeforehepullsmeupontomytiptoesandputshismouthonmine.Thundercracksaboveusandthen,theworldgoessilent.
Inaparalleldimension,we’vealwaysbeenrighthereinthisdoorway,sincethatnightwhenIwasanidioteighteen-year-oldandreplied,Iknow.Inthisdifferenttimeline,heswallowedthehurtanddecidedtobepatientonelasttime.Heknockedonthehouseofdestiny’sfrontdoor,puthismouthonmine,andwe’vebeenkissingeversince.
We’vesurvivedinthatalternatereality,backlitbythunderstormsandsummerdays.Holidayfireworksilluminateourfaces.Yearshavepassedforusthere,indaylightanddarkness.Myhairgrewdowntotheground.Autumnleavesgatheredatourankles,andtheseasonsturnedlikeakaleidoscopebehindus.
We’veneverenduredanother’stouch,andwe’veneverhadtobeapart.It’stheplacemytruehearthasalwaysexisted,beatingunfalteringandperfect,andit’sbeensafe,becauseitwaswithhim.
Nowwe’releaningthroughtheweb-thinlayerintothisdimensionandsinkingintotheseolderbodies.EveryotherkissI’vehadinmylifehasbeenwrong.I’vealwaysknownit.
It’swhywithothermen,Ineverstay,Ineversleep,andIneverlove.
Breakingfrommymouth,hesaysindisbelief,“Isthishowyoukiss?”
BeforeIcanthinkofhowtoanswer,heputsakneebetweenmythighsandhitchesmeupalittlehigher.Hereturnstomylipswithagroancaughtinhisthroat.IhavenowfoundsomethingIlikebetterthansugar,andI’maninstantaddict.Worse,ajunkie.I’vesubsistedonhisone-secondglancesmywholelife,andnowI’vegothismouthonmine?IknowwhatI’ddotokeephim.Heshouldfeelafraid.
ThefirsttouchofhistongueloosensmykneesandI’mgratefulthathe’sholdingmeup.Ishudderabreathout.Heinhalesit,changesourangle,exhalesitbacktome.Airisbetterfromhislungs.Lifeisbetterwithhiskiss.
ThewordmineisnowsomethingIneedtomakehimunderstand.
Thesecondtouchofhistongueisaninwardslide,andit’snotcalculatedtoseduceme.I’mbeinglickedformyflavor.Ifeelthepointofhistooth,thescratchofhischinonmine.There’sapauseofdeliberationforamoment,andthenIfeelhispleasureshiveringoutofhisbody,absorbedintomyskin.I’vebeentasted,andIamexactlyright
Ithinkthegoodboypipesupinthefoggedlogicsectionofhisbrain—You’rebeingtoowetforafirstkiss,toohungry,tooanimal,checkshe’sokay—andhetriestoendthekisswithagentlesqueezeonmywaist.
“Don’tyoudare,”Iwarnhim.“Donotgoeasyonme.”
Heobeysinstantly,droppingbacktomewithasenseofrelief.Hepresseshishipsagainstmewithoutshame,andhowbadlyhewantsmehasmegasping.He’snotgoingtogoeasyonmetonight
“Nooneelseiskissingyouanymore,”hetellsmeinaconversationalhush,notbreakingourcontact.“Yourmouthismine.”Thethoughtismorethanhecanbear;nowwe’retwistingeachother’sclothesandthekissislikeaconversationwithnowords—louderandlouder,talkingovereachother:Listentome.No,youlistentome.
Inunison:Iwillkillanyonewhotouchesyou.
We’rechangingtheskyandaffectingtheair.Whentheclouddirectlyaboveusboilsoverandtherainpoundsharder,Ibarelyregisterit.Afinemistissettlingonourclothes.
MybreathingsoundslikeIhaveabsolutelyzerocardiofitness.I’mgoingtowearmyselfouthereinthisdoorway,butit’sokay—thepersonI’mkissingwilllookafterme.
Don’tfailmenow,heart.
Thethoughtknocksmeoutofmyrhythm,andhetrailsfingertipsupmyneckandtakesusbacktosoft.Sweet.Lightenoughtogivemeachancetorebalancemybodyandmyheartbeat.Ibecomeawareofsoundsagain;it’srainingproperlynow,hammeringonthetinroofoftheporch.
Thegrumbleofthunderaboveusisdeafening,butit’satinywolf-howlthatbreaksusapart.Westareateachotherandsayatthesametime:“Patty.”
Wedon’tcareaboutthemess;it’sthefastestway,sowestumblethroughtheruinedhouseinthedark.EverytimeItrip,hishandspullmeupright.Likebad,selfishhumanswepauseatthebackdoorandkissagaintofortifyourselvesfortherunthroughtheoverflowinggutters.Histonguepromisesmemore,ifIcanjustmakeittothestudio.I’dswimtheEnglishChannelifIhadto.
Bythetimewetoeoffourshoesandpulltheglassdoorofthestudioclosed,we’resoakedtotheskin.Thelightswitchwon’twork,myalarmclockdisplayisblack,andPattyisnowheretobeseen.Ontopofthewardrobe,Dianagogglesdownatusbeforeduckingbackdownintoherapplecrate.
Tomisdeeplyapologetic.“Patty,comehere.”Herfacepeeksupatusfromunderthebed.“Ifeelsobad.”
“Youdidn’tknow.”Wetryforaminutemoreuntilshecreepsout,tummyonthefloor,untilshe’sintoherbed.Iputablanketoverherandtuckherintight.Aswestraightenup,lightningflashesandhegetsaproperlookatme.Iseehiswetshirtstucktohisbody.Webothmakeidenticallustfuleyefluttersandheavesimultaneousexhalationsastheroomgoesblackagain.Thenwelaughateachother.
“You’vehadakisslikethatinsideyou,allthistime?”Hebeginsonthebuttonsofhisshirt,quickandthoughtless,likehe’sabouttodiveintoapool.Hegetsabouthalfwaywhenhegivesupandstepsclosertome.Anotherfewsecondswithoutmeagainsthimisnotsomethinghecanbear.“IthinkIneedtoupdatemylifeinsurancepolicy.”
“Bettercallthemnow.”Hislaughisinmymouthbecausewe’rekissingagain.Ifeelflatnessonmyshoulderblades;I’magainstthewall.Onlymytoestouchtheground.Thegoldbubbleisskintightaroundus.Whenmyheadrollstoonesideandhismouthmovestomyneck,Icanseethesteamrisingfromhisdampshoulders.Themachineinhischestisworkinginoverdrive.
ForyearsasI’vewatchedTom’smouthashetalked,I’veknownhowhewouldkiss.Earnestandsexyandprimal.EachlushpressistolearnwhatIlike—buthe’srealizingIlikeitanywayhegivesit.Soft,slow,teethandtongue.Fastandrough.Bonuspointsforahandonmythroat.Asqueezinghandfulofmybutthasmeshudderingandoversensitized;theseamsonmyclothesarelikebladesagainstme.Heshowsnosympathyandinsteadtakesatourofmybody.Whenmybreastisinhishand,hefeelsthestudinmynippleagainsthispalm.
“Bed,”hesaysinhisalphavoice,andmyUnderswearslosetheirelastic.I’vesaidtheexactsamethingtohim.IwonderifImadehimfeelthisway.
“You’vefinallycaughtup.”I’mbeingtransportedbackwardwithnoeffortonmypart.IfeellightingcablesunderthesolesofmyfeetbutI’mnotsnaggedortripped.He’sgotme.“Itorearoomapartandtoldyoutogetinmybed,andyoujust—”
Hetipsmedownontothebed.
“I’mgoingtomakeupforit,Ipromise,”hesayswithasmileinhisvoice.Chapter19
Hiskneespressonthemattress,one,two,eithersideofmycalves.He’sahugeshapeinthedarkaboveme.Handseithersideofmyhead,one,two.Ifeelthedownwarddipofhisbody,andhe’sbreathingagainstthesideofmyneck.
Isayuptotheceiling,“TellmeIsmellright.”
Hesensestheuncertaintyunderlyingmysharporder.“Yousmellliketheonlyperson.”
Iexhale.“Wellthankfuckforthat.”Iholdmyarmsabovemyheadandhetugsmytopoff.
“Yourobsessionwithlacehasdestroyedmysanity.Doyouknowthatyourbraisalwaysvisible,nomatterwhatyouwear?It’slikeyourclothesdon’treallywanttobeclothes.”Hegivesmeakissonmyneckthatgiveswaytoasuckandabite.“You’relikeaself-peelingbanana.”
Istartlaughing.“That’showIfeelaroundyou.”
“Itfucksmeupwhenguyslookatthelaceonyourskin.”Thethoughthashimreturningtomylips,andjealousyisaspiceinhismouth
Iknowhowhefeels.I’mkeepingmyhandsonthisskinfortherestofhislife,sothere’sneveranydoubtofwhohebelongsto.
Hearrangesmeacrossadimstripeoflightfromagapinthedrapes.Mylaceisadmired,complimented,rubbedonhischeek,thenit’sslingshot-goneintothedarkcorneroftheroom.Heslideshistough,hardworkingpalmsalloverme.
Thenipplepiercingisablipthatinterestshimintensely.Hedropsdownfromhiselbowtoinvestigate,andIfinallyrealizethefullpotentialofthatmetal,slidintosuchasensitivetip.Othermenhavetriedtuningmelikearadio,butTomknowswhattodo.Ishiverandshakeashetestsmyreactions.
Iwonderifhelikesit.“So,piercedtoughchicksareyourthing?”
“God,yeah,”hesayswithitinhismouth.“Howisthismetalsosweet?”HistonguetouchesitashespeaksandI’mlevitatingoffthemattress.Helaughs,pleased,anddoesitmore.
“EverysingletimeI’vethoughtaboutthismysterypiercingI’vewalkedintoawall.Archup,”headdswiththerightamountofbossy.Hisforearmslidesunderme,andI’mtippedupandheplayswithmeuntilIputmyhandonthebuttonofmyjeans.
Hereleasesmetospeak.“Isthisactuallyhappening?OrdidIwalkintoawalltoohard?”
“Yes,thisisfinallyreal.”Ibreaktheremainingbuttonsonhisshirt.ItfallsopenandIrunmyhandsuphistorso.Hiselbowslockandunlock.Hishipsbumpforward.Theinvoluntaryreactionsofhisbodyaresublime.
HistightT-shirtshavenotbeenlying.Body,body,body.He’sthemostspectacularcombinationofflatandcurved.Musclesfordays.LinesandhipsandsomanyhoursofmanuallaborthatInearlyhurtforhim.Whydoeshehavetotoilthishard?Hisbodylovesmyhands.
“Thisisreallyhappening,unlessI’mhavinganotheroneofmyvividTomValeskasexdreams.Inwhichcase,Iwon’tbeabletolookatyouintheeyetomorrow.”
Hereplieswithamusement,“Youprobablywon’tanyway,afterallI’mgoingtodowithyou.”Hefeelsthesqueezeofmythighsandkissesmeagain.Helovesmylips.“DB,Iamgoingtogettoknowyoutonight.”
“Youknowmeprettywellalready,”Ishudderout,andheshakeshishead.
“NotthewayIwantto.”Hefeelsmeliftmyhipsinreplyandhishandsjerkmyjeanstomyknees.Everythingpauses.Whenhespeakshe’stryingtocomposehimself.“Butnow’sagoodpointtoaskifyouwanttocontinue.Andifyoudon’t,thatiscompletelyfine.”
Myheartswellswithlove.He’sthebestpossibleguy.Theperfectman.AndI’minabedwithhim.I’msoluckyIcouldcry.Itrytositupbutmybodyissavingitsstrength.
“Please,please.Enthusiasticyes.Pitifulbegging,etcetera.I’mnotevenkidding.Putmeoutofmymisery.”
“DarcyBarrett,beggingmeinbed.I’mhavingoneofmyfeverdreams.”HelaughssoftlyandIfeelhishandwrapmyankle.ThenI’mrolledontomystomach.WhenhepullsbackonmyhipsIjoltinsidewithsurprise.Forasecond,Iexpectthepainfuldragofelasticandabluntbreachingpressure,maybetighthandsmarkingmyhips.It’sabad-sexflashbackandI’mquaking.
Hesays,“Controlfreak.”ThenIunderstand.He’sjustreadingwhat’sprintedonmyUnderswears.IlovehimsomuchallIcandoislaughandputmyhandsovermyface.
Nowhe’srubbingthestubbleofhisjawupmyspine.Ifeelhisbrowbonepressintomyshoulder.
“Yourskinhasthissilveryshinetoit,andallIwanttodois…”Heshowsme.Itinvolveshistongueandteeth.Mygroansaremuffledinthemattress.Heuseshispalmtoturnmeover.Hespoilsme,soothesme,andwantstoknowme.Ifeelhimfilingawayeveryeyelashquiverandexhalation.Hepassesfingertipsoverme,chasingandcreatinggoosebumps.
“Youandyourbeautifulskinhavebeenhauntingmeforyears.OneChristmasIkissedyouonthecheektosayhi.It…overwhelmedme.Ihadtogositinmycar.”Hedoesitnow,shakinghisheadlikehecan’tbelieveit.“ItwasthebestgiftIgot.”Overandover,hepressesonmycheekbone.“Thankyou.”
He’ssosweetandopen;howcanIeverhopetomatchhim?Ihavenoexperiencebeingtruthfulorsoftinbed,butIhavetotry.
“You’resolovely.”Ithreadmyfingersintohishair.“Well,IspenteveryChristmaswaitingforthegoodbyehug.Yeah,”Isighashesqueezesmetohim.Thatdeliberatepausethatmakesmefeellikehe’ssayingmynameinhishead.“Ohgeez,that’sevenbetternowthatwe’rehorizontal.”
“YouspenteveryChristmaswaitingtosaygoodbyetome?”Hehasheartbreakinhisvoice,evenashepullsdownmyunderwear.“DB,Igottamakeituptoyou.”
“Don’tworry,I’llmakesureyoudo.”Ifeelhishesitation.He’sgoneshy.Bitingmyliptoholdbackmysmile,Itakehishandandslideitupmyleg.“Startnow.”
Hefeelsme,heinhaleshowreadyIam,andnowwe’rebacktovicious.
Hebitesmyearlobetoholdmestillwhilehetestsandplays,hisfingerseasyandsure.He’sverygoodatsolvingproblems.Mybodyshiversinthecageofhisbody,andhisbreathinmyearsoundsinhuman.Itense;hetightens.Irelax,herewardsme.Hewantsmecompliantandsoft.Hewantsmeliquidandsilky.
“SlowdownorI’llcome,”Iblurt,thenIlaughindisbelief.“I’veliterallyneversaidthatbefore.”Igrabdesperatelyatmynightstanddrawer.“LuckyI’minbedwiththeworld’shardestworker.”
“I’dbettergoeasyonyou.”
“Why?”I’vebarelygotenoughlighttoseetheglintinhiseyeswhenhebitesthefoilsquarelikeit’sapackofcandy.ThenIaccessmymemoryvaultandlaugh.“Oh,that’sright.Iforgotaboutyourdick.”
“Oh,youforgot?”Helaughsandgivesmealittleslaponthebutt.“Thanksalot,DB.”
“HowcouldIforget,really.”Hishandisbetweenmylegsagain,givingmethesweepofhisthumb,kindandtender.“Everythingaboutyouissublime.Ihavebeenhurtingfromwantingyou.TomValeska,getinme.”
HealwaysgivesmewhatIaskfor.
Ican’tshutmymouthtosilencemymoan.“Ohfuck.Youfeelliketheworld’smostperfectman.”
He’slaughingevenashisendlessgentlepushturnsintoaneasybackandforthbetweenus.He’sbiggerthananyoneI’veeverhad.Ihatetheintrusivethought—howdaremybraineventhinkofanyoftheothers?Butit’scoupledwiththerealizationthathe’stakingcareofme,andit’sthehottestthing.
“Thanks,”hesayswithaffection.“Youfeellikeadreamcometrue.”
Mybodyislitwithpleasure.Hehasareservedqualityinhismovements.IfIcanjustgetTomValeskatolosehismindoverme,Icandiehappy.“Noway.Don’tgoeasy.”
“Just…Justletmebecareful.”
“Idon’twantcareful.Iwanthonest.”Finally,thatfirstslipofhiscontrol.It’sbrain-meltinglygood,feelinghisbodybeingsoauthentic.“I’mgettingthiseveryday.Deeper.Tom,Iwantyouharder.”Automatically,Iputmyhanddownbetweenus.Myorgasmismyresponsibility.Except,apparentlyitisn’t.
“That’swhatI’mherefor,dummy,”headmonishesmeinbetweenfreestyle-strokebreaths.Hetickleshisfingertipsagainstme,evenasheholdshimselfback.“Isyourheart—okay?”
It’sthefirsttimeamanhaseveraskedmethatinbed,becausenoone’severknown.Ibitebacktheautomaticsureandassessmyself.Myheartbeatisadimsloppydruminmyears.
“I’mokay,butifIgettoooverheatedorifyoupressmedown,I’llstarttofeelalldizzyandclaustrophobic.ThenthepalpitationshappenandIwon’tbeableto…”MyprivatepartswillshutupshopandIwillnotbeabletoreleasethisagonizinglust.
Hepullsawayfromme.Longandlush
Iscrabblewithmylegs.“Giveitback.HaveIjustruinedthemood?”
“No,ofcoursenot.Whatabout,”hesayswithathoughtfultone,“this.”
“Youdon’thavetochangeathing,”Ibeg,buthe’srollingmeontomysideandhe’scurlingaroundme.It’scomfortableenoughforsleep,justapairofplatonicnakedspoons.Theblanketsareliftedawayandcoolairisonmyskin.ForadreadfulmomentIthinkhe’sgivenuponme.
ExceptI’mwrong.Likealways,he’sfoundasolution.He’skissingthebackofmyneckashepushesintomybodyagain.Nowherocksagainstme,ahandonmyhip.
“Don’tyouworryaboutanything,”hesuggests,slidinghishanddown.“Justrelaxandbreathe.”
Iwouldneverhavethoughtthatconcerncouldbesexy.Ispeakintothedark.“CanIconfess?”Ifeelhimnodagainstmyshoulderandthesilkyfrictioneases.“Comingsometimestriggersoffmyheart.Andthisisgonnabeadoozy.So,ifthathappens,donottakeitpersonally.”
“I’lltrytonotcompletelyblowyourcircuitboards.”HegroanswhenIsqueezehim.“Youwanttotrymeout,seehowIdo?”
HaveIeverhadsuchalusciousoffer?Tom’svoiceissoundingmorelikeagrowl.
“Iwantyoutogetinme.”Ipressmycheekagainsthisbiceptoanchormyselfashistouchgetsmecloserandclosertotheedge.“Deeper.Harder.Notlikeyou’resorryforme,orworryingaboutme.Iwantyoutoputyourselfinmelikewe’redoingthisdaily,fromnowon.Forlife.”
HeatedbloodispricklingundermyskinbutI’mpreparedtodealwithwhatmighthappen.HedoesexactlywhatItellhimtodo.Hegivesmeeverythinghe’sgot.
TheorgasmhitsmelikeI’vejustrunface-firstintoabrickwall.
IcontractandIhearmyowninwardinhale.EverythingcoilsandI’mexhaling.Free-falling.AndwhileIcanbarelyhearoverthenoiseinsidemychest,I’mheldsafeinthesearms,withsomeonewhoknowsme,AtoZ.
Idon’thavetoworryaboutpretendingtobenormal.JustasI’mthinkinghownicethatwas,heputshimselfsohardintomethatI’mnowshakingwithaftershocks,andIsoundlikeI’mcrying.Buthe’ssmartanddoesn’tletup.NowI’mwrung-outspasming,tearsonmycheeks,contributinganonsensicalstringofmore,yes,more.HisarmshavetoholdmeagainsthimorI’dbehalfwayacrossthebed.
“Now,now,”Iorder,andheobeysme.
Tomissharingthissecretpartofhimself;I’mbitten,spread,gripped,andIhaveneverbeenwantedthisintensely.Hewillkillandliveanddieforme.It’sbig,whathe’sfeeling.AllIknowis,I’mhisnow.Iputahandonthebackofhisneckashepressesakisstomyshoulder.
“Now,that’swhatI’vewaitedfor,”hesaysafterseveralminutesoftryingtobreathe.“TurnsoutLoretta’sbooksdidn’tgivemeunrealisticexpectations.”Heextricateshimselffrommewithdifficulty.Inthedark,hesays,“That’swhatit’slikewithyou.Just…electric.”Ifeelhimleanawayfromthebed.
Handssmoothoverme.I’mnotremotelytired.Ineedanotherkiss.Ineedhisskinagainstmine,soI’mneverhungryagain.Ihearacardboardsoundinthedark,andasoftscrapingsound.Isheputtingawaytheboxofcondoms?
“IsaidtoyouatthebarthatbeingthefocusofDarcyBarrettisintense.IhadnoideawhatIwastalkingabout.Thatwasintense.Okay,Icountfourmoreofthese,”Tomsaysaboutthecondoms,andIthrilldowntothemarrowofmybones.“Shallweseehowfarweget?”
Ican’tresist.“Don’tyouhaveanearlystart?”
“Smart-ass.I’dbettergettowork.”Hismouthtouchesmine,weinhale,andwebeginagain.
***
I’MWOKENBYaChihuahuascratchingatthedoortothestudio.Tom’sgone,there’sbarelyanylightoutside,andthesheetsarecold.Iwrapmyselfinablacksilkrobeandmyresetalarmclockflashesmidnight,overandover.AllIknowis,thepower’sonandit’sincrediblyearly.“Yeah,yeah,”ItellPatty.“Where’sDaddy?”
I’mdisappointed.I’veneverwokenupwithaman,andIwaslookingforwardtoanotherfirst.WitheachstepItaketowardthedoor,Ifeelechoesofwhathegavemelastnight.I’mwrungout,gloriouslyso.Lastnightwasarough,softplayfight.
LetmespoilDarcyBarrettalittle.Letmegetatasteofthatfeeling.
Itwasthebestnightofmylife.Iwonderifhe’dbeweirdedoutifheknewthat?I’vefinallygottheonepersonIdon’thavetopretendtobecoolwith.IfItoldhim,he’dsmile.Thenhe’dusethatbossvoicethatIlike.Getthatrobeoff.
Islideopenthedoor.“Tom?”Icallout.Insteadofgoingtoherusualpatchoflawn,Pattysetsoffwithdeterminationinherstride.She’sheadingforthesideofthehouse,withfindingherownertheonlythinginhermind.“Patty,comeback.”
ThenearestshoesareapairofheelsIleftagainstthewall.Ijamthemon.Iinwardlyshudderasthesolessliponmudandthere’sarepulsivesnailcrunch.MythighmusclesstretchandcrampuntilIyelp.
ItturnsoutChihuahuascansetanOlympicpace.She’snowataildisappearingaroundthecornerofthehouse.She’shammeringupthedrivewhenacarpullsin.Pattyhasthesurvivalinstinctofalemming.Myheartleapsinfright.Iblinkandmyeyestrickme;IthinkIseehergounderthewheel.Iblinkagainandshe’sfine,hertailwavinglikeaflagingreeting.
“Watchout,”Icallwiththelastofmybreath,andwavemyarmtogetattention,andwhenthetruckbrakesIseeit’sTom.Wherehashebeenthisearly?Thesun’snotevenup.
Iputmyhandsonmyknees.IfIcouldjustcatchmybreath…Huff,huff,huff.I’mnotthisunfit,surely.Myheartispoundingstrangely,fasterandfaster,untilIknowwhat’shappening.IfeellikeIcouldputmyhandonmychestandtakeitoutlikeahamster.Ipressdownonit,willingittoslow.Thedriver’sdooropens,Ilookup,andTom’scompletelyappalled.
Thepassengerdooropenstoo,andthere’sablondhaircutthesameasmine,andIclosemyeyesandwillmyselftogetittogether,becausethisistheworstpossiblemomentforthistohappen.
I’dknowmybrother’ssmellanywhere.ExpensiveclothandasnootyItalianfragrancethatsmellslikelemonpeelmixedintowindowcleaner;it’ssupposedtobeattractivetowomen,anditistomost.He’satmyelbowandTom’sattheother,bothtalkingatonce.Tom’sfrantic.FingerspressonmywristandwhenTomleaves,Itwistaroundtotrytofollowhim.
“He’sgettingyourmedication,”Jamietellsme,andIcrumpleagainsthim.Myheart?Itstillthinksit’satwin,becauseitstickstomybrotherlikeamagnetuntilTomisputtingadoseinmyhand,abottleofwater,andI’mswallowing.
Everything’sgray.Everything’sgonewrong.
“I’mfine,”Imanage,butIcan’tseemtounstickfromJamie.MyhandsareclutchingandI’mpixelatingintofaintingwhenJamie’ssteelyvoicebringsmebackup.
“Don’tyoudare,Darcy.”
“AmImakingthecall?”Tomisholdinguphisphone.“Jamie,amImakingit?”He’sdesperate.Ishakemyheadvigorously.Jamieshakeshishead,too.He’sconfidenthe’smorequalifiedthanaparamedic.
“You’retooimportant,”Jamietellsmeinahush,likeit’soursecretandnotevenTomissupposedtohearit.“You’rewaytooimportanttome.Comeon,now,justbreatheandletthatheartsettledown.”
He’sgivingmeahugthatonlyhecangive.ImissedhimsobadlyI’mshaking.Fuckinghell.Itriedsohard,butI’mhistwinsisternow,morethanever.Untiloneofusdies,we’restuckwitheachother.
It’saminuteortwomorebeforethepalpitationsbegintoslow.Tom’shandsareonmyshoulders,andImanagetocrammyownpersonalwhirlwindbackintothelockboxinmychest.ItrytopushawayfromJamiebutfallbackwardintoTom.
“Congratulationsongivingmeaheartattack,”Jamiesays,andthat’showIknowI’mokaynow.“Wecouldhavesharedacemeteryplottocutdowncosts.”
“Anyroomformeinthere?”Tom’svoicesaysfaintlyabovemyhead.
“Pattygotoutandranaway,”Isay,andTom’sarmshugtightlyaroundmymiddle.Icanfeelthetensioninhisbody,shiveringoutinpalpablewaves.“Ithoughtshewasgonnagetsquashed.”
“AndthisisexactlywhyI’mhere.Iknewit.”Jamieisfurious.I’mcertainwe’rebusted—I’mlyingagainstTominarobeandhisarmsarearoundme.Butthenheadds,“Shecan’tchaseaChihuahuathesedays.Twoweeksworkinghereandshe’snearlydead.”
“I’msorry.”Tomiscringingbehindmelikeit’shisownpersonaldoing.“Shesaidshewasokay—”
“She’sbeenlying.”JamietakesmyshouldersandpullsmeawayfromTom,settingussidebysidelikeBarbieandKen.“Lookather.IknewIhadabadfeeling!”Hewalksafewpacestothecarandthenwheelsbackonus.“YouaretheonlypersonItrusttotakecareofher.You’vefuckedup.”
Mybrother,whenhe’sangry?He’ssortofspectacular,inablood-thickening,terror-inducingkindofway.Hemakesmewanttogetmycamera,justtoshowhimwhathelookslike.
Tomsighsbutdoesn’tdenyit.
“Hehasn’tfuckedanythingup.Hejustgothere!Myhealthismyownbusiness.”
Jamie’sbeyondexasperated.“Youknowthatisn’ttrue.You’reourbusiness.Gogetsomeclotheson.Whattimedotheguysgethere?Arobeandheels.”AnotherlookatTom,likethat’salsohisfault.
“Let’salljustrelax,”Tomsaysinthistoneheuses,thewordsandcadencealwaysexactlythesame.Idon’tknowwhy,butitalwaysworksontheBarretttwins;ithasforalltheseyears.WeblowoutmatchingangrybreathsandthenJamiebeginstolaugh.
“Iwasnearlyfullownerofthishouse,”Jamiesayswithagrin.He’srelieved—buthe’salsoajerk.
Tomgiveshimadarklook.“Areyoureallyokaynow,Darce?”
Ipullatmyshoe,whichissinkingintothemud.“Yes,Ijusthadafrightandittriggeredmeoff.Andyes,there’sroomforyouinourcemeteryplot.Openinvitation.”
“Gremlin,you’regonnakillmysister,”JamietellsPatty,andshestandsonherhindlegsandputshermuddypawsonhisexpensivetrousers.Heloveshersecretly.Heticklesbehindherearandhertonguelollsout.Thenheremembersthepants.“Down.”
“Youcameallthewayherebecauseyouhadafeeling?”
“Yes,mytwinsensesweretingling.You’reright,”Jamieadds,andIreallydon’tthinkhe’seversaidthattome.“Watchingthishappenthroughawindowisnofun.”
IpullmyrobetighterbutwhereverItightenit,itloosenssomewhereelse.Thigh,neck,overandover.Tom’scorrect.Myclothesdon’twanttobeclothes.Thememoryoflastnightshocksthroughme,andwemakepropereyecontactforthefirsttime.
Tom’sgotruffledhair,pinklips,anddilatingpupils,givinghimaway.Helookslikehe’sbeenrolledaroundinbedbyme.Helookslikehe’sbeenlickedandkissedandbroughttothebrinkbyme,overandover,minutesmeltingintohours,gaspingandgroaning,please,please.WhoevenknowswhatIlooklike.Probablyprettymuchthesame.
Tom’sattentioniscaughtonmyneck,thenhestaresupattherooflinewithgrimconcentration.
“Comeon,getdressed.Iwanttoseethehouse.”Jamiegoestothecarandtakesoutanovernightbag.“Thanksforpickingmeup.”
“Youknewhewascoming?Whatthehell,Tom.”
TompicksupPatty.“Ididtellyou.”He’ssoimpossiblycool,giventhecircumstances.“Iwasupprettylate,checkingonthewaterdamage,andsawthemessagefromMr.Impulsive.Youalwaysgottagetthered-eyeflights,don’tyou?”
“Cheap”isallJamiesays.
“Thetitleofyourautobiography?”Igrinwhenhisgrayeyescuttome.
“Don’tevenstartwithme.Whatthefuckwereyouuptolastnight?”Jamieputshishandsintomyhairandtouslesitwithexpertfingers.He’sdoingmyhairlikehis.I’mpathetic,becauseitfeelswonderful.“Igetthefeelingmybabysisterhasbeenexertingherselfhorizontally,judgingbythathickey.Areyousureyouweren’tchasingaguyupthesideofthehouse?”
“Ha,ha,”Irespond.
JamielooksatTom.“Thatwasoneofyourjobs.GetridoftheguysuntilIfindherthehusbandoption.Itakeityouweren’tinyoursecuritypostlastnight.Idon’tblameyou.”Hemeansthetentandtherain.He’slookingnowatthemudonmyshoes.“Seriously,gogetchanged.Thatrobeisgross.”Jamietakeshisbagandwalkstothefrontdoor,rummagingforhiskey.
Imanagetomakeithalfwaydownthesideofthehousebeforemyshoescompletelysinkin.“I’mbeached.”
Tompicksmeupwithanarmaroundmywaistandcarriesmethelastfewyardstomyprivatebathroom.WhenitwasdeliveredhedrewaladystickfigureonthedoorwithaSharpie.Ilovehimforit.Heputsmeonthemetalstairs,andPattyisstillonhisotherforearm.It’shonestlytheonlywaytotravel
Hisskinsmellsdifferentandlovely
“Thanks,”Isay.Therobehassprungopenindecentlyandhetriestopinchittogetherone-handedwithnotmuchsuccess.Thestairhasmeateyelevelwithhim.Liplevel.Ileaninbutheevadesme.
Hegivesup.“CanIpleasebuyyouanewrobe?”
“Thatwouldbeaveryromanticgesture.Makeitsomethingshortandsilky.”Igrinathisexasperatedexpression
“Shorterandsilkierthanthis?Please,don’twalkaroundlikethisincaseguysturnupearly.”
“Thiswasanemergencyandyouknowit.Don’tbetellingmewhattowear,Idon’tlikeit.”Ileanonthedoorbehindmeandbitemylip.“Hey.Wesmelllikeeachother.”
Heshushesmedesperately.Icrossmybarefeetattheanklesandlookathisbody,mybrainfullofgratefulthoughtsanderoticmemories,untilhefindswords.
“Youreallyneedtostoplookingatmelikethat.IdidwakeyouuptotellyouIwasleavingfortheairport.Wehadacompleteconversationaboutit.Youwerecomatose.”Hesmilesdespitehisstress.“Yousaid,Okay,Valeska.Gofetch.”
WehearJamie’svoice,echoingintheemptyspace.Hecouldbeonthephone,orjustaseasilytalkingaloudtohimself.
“Iswear,heeventalkedinthewomb.Tom,Icanbarelywalk.Everystep,Icanfeelyou.Mybodyisjust…squeezing.Nowthatyou’vebeeninme,allIcanfeelishollow.”
Hiseyelashesflutterandheswallows.“Ifhe’dgottenacab…”
“We’dbekissingonacloudinheavenrightaboutnow.It’sokay.We’lljusttalktohim.”
“What,now?”Panichashimcrazy-eyed.
Igointothebathroomandshutthedoor.“Yes,ofcourse,now.YouthinkI’mgoingtomissoutonmoreofwhatIgotlastnight,becauseofmybrother?I’msurprisedhowcalmIam,actually.”
IwashmyhandsanddrythemononeofLoretta’shandtowels.Mycosmeticbagishere,butIlookinthefilmymirroranddon’tneedit.I’msmokyeyed,withpink-marshmallowlipsandapurplemarkonmythroat.Boyhairandgirlbody.I’msexyashell.
“Thisisagoodlookforme.Couldyoumessupmymakeupformeeverymorning?”
Hesaysnothing.Ihopehe’sstillthere.
“Thiswasanicetouch.”Iopenthedoorandindicatemyneck.Iputmyhanduptoscrapehishairneater,buthestepsawayoutofmyreach.
“Wecan’tsayanythingtohim.Wecan’t.”
“You’reabigboy,”Itellhimsharply,eventhoughmyconfidenceisstartingtofalter.“I’mabiggirl.Noneofusareeightanymore.Let’sjusttellhimandworkthroughit.”Ilookupatthehouse.“Hemightbeglad.Hehatesmyusualselections.You’relike,thesupremeoption.”
MybrainmimicsJamiesoloudIflinch.Thehusbandoption.
“Listentome,”Tomsays,hisvoicelikesteel.“Heisnotgoingtobeglad.He’sgoingtocutmydickoff.”
“I’llprotectyou.Iabsolutelyloveyourdick.DidImakethatclearenoughlastnight?”
Hisexpressionsaysyes.“Ifwetellhim,therenovationisaguaranteedfail.”Helooksbackupatthehouse.Thefirstpinkraysofsunrisemeanthatthecrewwillturnupsoon.Tom’sgotevenmoreonhisplate,morerolestojuggle.Employeesandinvoicestopay.Inheritancestosecure.
“I’mhelpingyounow,dummy.We’reateam.”
“IfwetellJamiehe’llbeangryandhurt.Hethinksheknowseverything,butheneversawthiscoming.”
I’mremorseless.“Hecandeal.”
“He’sbeenworkinginthecityawhilenowandhesuspectseveryoneofbackstabbing.Exceptme.I’moneoftheonlypeoplehetrusts.Thesamewaythatyoutrustme.Completelyandblindly.”Hesoftensabit.“Youdon’tknowwhatthatkindofresponsibilityfeelslike.”
“Maybehe’sasecretromantic,”Itry,butit’sridiculoustothinkthat.
“He’llbesobetrayedhe’llfightusoneverything,onprinciple.Ifwewanttopaintthehouseblue,he’llinsistonpink.He’llwantthatwallputbackup.I’llhavetocanceleverysinglethingI’veordered.Thisistheonepersonwhowillmakemylifealivinghell.”
“MaybeI’llbethesecondone.”Igivehimanexasperatedlook.“I’dbettergetdressedsoIcansupportyouthroughthismentalandprofessionalcrisis.”
“Takethisseriously.You’regoingtogetforgiven,nomatterwhat,Princess.”Tom’seyesareangrynow.“Me,I’mcompletelyscrewed.”
TomputsPattydownandhookshisarmsunderme.I’measilyhoisted,likealittledogbeingcarriedoverthedirtyground.There’snoexertionevidentinhimasweroundthecornerofthehouse,passthefishpond,andtakethepathtomydoor.
“Youknowwhathe’slike.Please,Darce,wehavetokeepthisunderwrapsuntilthehouseisdone.Ifwecan’tgetagoodsale…”Hestopshimselffromsayingmore.
Heputsmedownoverthethresholdofthestudioandlooksatmyrobe,andIhaveneverseenamoreconflictedhumanbeing.HemustruethedayhewasfoundbytheBarretts.Myfeetareprincess-clean.Pattywalksinbehindus,muddyandmiffed.
“Youneverdidhavetocareaboutmoney.Ihavetocare.”
“Icare.WhydoyouthinkIworkatthebar?”
Hehuffsinsultingly.“Surelythatdoesn’tevencoveryourwinehabit.”
“Itcoversmyhealthinsurance,”Ifireback,angry.“YoureallythinkI’malazylittleprincess,leechingoffmyparents,don’tyou?Idon’ttakeacentfromthem.”
“Butifyouneededthem,they’dgiveyouanythingyouneeded.That’snotabadthing,”hesays,softer.“It’swhathelpsmesleepatnight.Youwillalwaysbetakencareof.”
It’strue.Belowmearemultiplesafetynets.IfIlosteverythinghere,I’djustgostayinoneofthemanyemptybedroomsatmyparents’place.MomwouldprobablybringmebreakfastinbedandopentheFrenchdoorssoIcouldseetheocean.
“Andyou’reabouttoinherit.Yourfinancialsituationislookinggood.Meanwhile,Ineedcash.”Aghostofasmileisonhismouth.“YouthinkIbreakmyselfonaworksiteforfiftyweeksayearlikethisjustforfun?”Heblowsoutalongbreath.“Idon’tthinkIcanhandleitifmybusinessfailsbeforeitbegins.”
Iwinceinsympathy.There’snowayI’dwanthimtolivewiththedreadfulmixoffailureandembarrassmentIfeeleverytimeIlookattheemptyscrewholesbymyfrontdoor.ThenIthinkabouthowthelastthreetimesI’vebeenimpulsive,ithasn’tworkedout.Tearingupthedevelopmentoffer,tryingtobuyJamie’sring.
Thegetinmeincident,barelyaminuteafterlearningTomwassingle.
“Okay.Okay.I’mwillingtowaitandgetastrategytogether.YouknowI’lldoanythingtohelpyou.StupidJamie.”Ilookintheneckoftherobeatmypiercing.Tom’sbroughtitalive.Thechafeofmysilkrobeagainstmyskinisunbearable.“Heliterallynevertakestimeoffwork.”
“He’shere,andhere’syourchancetobehisbestfriendagain.”
“That’syou,”Ipointout,andTomshakeshishead.
“Howdoyoualwayshaveitwrong?It’syou.You’rehisbestfriendandhe’sbeenmiserablewithoutyou.Ifyouguysdon’trealizeitnowandgetoverthislittlemeaninglessfightyouhad,itmightbetoolateforyouboth.Don’tthrowthatawayoverme.You’retwins.I’mthestrayfromacrossthestreet.”
“You’renot!”Icannowseethefullbreadthofwhathe’stryingtoaccomplishhere.Therenovationofthetwins’relationship.“Thisissoyou.Sacrificingandfixingandsteppingaside.Fadingintothebackground.Notonmyfuckingwatch.”
“Whereareyouguys?”Jamieisatthebackdoor.“Tom,whatthehelliswrongwiththekitchenceiling?”
“Thekitchen?”Tomisdismayed.“I’llberightthere.Please,Darce,”hefinishesinahush.“Pleasehelpmekeepittogether.”
“Givemeyourphone,then,”Isay,andheslidesitintomyrobe’sfun-sizedpocket.“WherethehellisthatguyChris?Hewassupposedtobeherebynow.ShouldIcallhimandkickhisass?”
“Iwouldbeverygrateful,”Tomsays,steppingafewpacesawayasthebackdoorbangsopen.Ittriggersoffasenseofdéjàvu.Ithinkwe’vealwaysstoodalittletooclose.
“Quitwastinghistime,”Jamiebarksatmeasheclattersdownthebackstairs.“We’vegotstufftodo.Ihopeyou’refixingthesestairs,Tom.”
WewatchJamiewalkaroundtothePorta-Potties.Heopensthedoortothemaleone.“Ohfuckno.”Hegoesintomine.
“That’smybathroom.NowIwanttocryharderthanever.”Iexhaleandputmyhandovermyeyes.
IwillmyselftotrustTomandseethisfromhisperspective.Iseeeverythinghehastolosemoreclearlythanmyownpotentiallosses.He’llalwayscarryme.He’llnevertripordropme.
ButIjustcan’thelpmyself.I’vefeltthiswaybefore,somanytimes.Myinsecure,spikyselfsays:“So,lastnightwasaone-off.”
“Ofcoursenot.Butaslongashe’shere,Ican’ttouchyou.Youcan’tlookatme.We’renot…anything.”
“Wow,sowe’renothing,”Imarvelinastagewhisperasthehurtbeginstoshimmer.“Funny,itdidn’tfeellikenothing.IfeellikeIhadeverygloriousinchofTomValeskalastnight.Repeatedly.Just…overandover,makingmecomemorethanIeverhaveinmylife.”
Mywordscauseachainreaction;mybodyshifts,hisshifts,andwelookatthebed.It’samessed-upwreck.Wewanttobeflatinitorbentoverit.Anypossiblevariation,wewanttobemoving,anddeep.
Iwouldhavesexwithhimonapencilsketchofthisbed.
Istandupontiptoe,grabhimbythescruff,andbringhismouthdowntomine.It’sinstant.He’sgivingmeeverythinginablink,anintensitysostrongIlosetheabilitytoseecolor.Ifeelasurfaceundermybutt;I’montheedgeofmyworkbenchandhe’sbetweenmylegs.Tenseconds.Iswearitwouldtakeanothertensecondsforhimtobebackinsideme.Iyankathisleatherbeltandloosenthebuckle.
“In,in,in,”Iorderhimwhenhechangestheangleofourkiss.Againstme,Ifeelatremorrunthroughhim.Lastnightdidn’teaseanythingbetweenus.It’smadeitworse.Somuchworse.
Nowhe’sfacingawayfromme,shouldersheaving.
“Shit,”hehuffs.“YouseewhatImean?Wecan’tdothisallovertheworksite.”
“Shit,indeed.”Iputmyhandonmythroatwheremyheartislodgedlikeafrog.“Ifwe’renotcarefulI’llbethreemonthspregnantwithyourgianttripletswhenthesoldstickergoesup.”
Hisshouldersshiverandroll.HeturnsontheballofhisfootandI’msurehe’sgoingtostepbackandfinishwhatwejuststarted.Hard.Everythinginhimisstraining.MyGod,hiseyes.Foronesecond,I’mterrified.I’veprovokedsomethingIdon’tknowifIcanhandle.
Buthe’sgotthewillpowerIdonot,andIwatchashepacksitalldownagain.
Icrossmylegsandtryinvaintopullmyrobetighter.“Youthinkyoucanstopdoingthattomeforanotherthreemonths?Youthinkwecanjustpretend?”
Hisbodysaysno.Buthereplies,“I’vebeenpretendingaroundyousinceIhitpuberty.Icandoafewmoremonths.Look,Ithoughtwehadtime,andIdidn’tsaymuchlastnight.”He’srueful.“DB,youknowyou’respecialtome,right?”
“Iknowyouloveme,”Ireplywithoutthought.Hebrokemyworldapartlastnight.Hisloveispressedintomyskinandkissedintomycells.“Howcouldyounot?”
Heburstsoutlaughinginresponse.“There’sthatBarrettconfidenceIlikesomuch.”Hetakesariskandstepsclose,pressingacarefulkisstomycheek.“Yes.Ido.Butyoudon’tknowhowmuch.”
Iputmypalmonhisjawandkisshischeekback.“Don’tworry.Iknowit.You’vealwaystoldme,onewayoranother.”
Jamie’sprobablytowelinghishandsdrybynow,orsnoopingthroughmycosmeticsbag.Maybedottingconcealerunderhiseyes.Iwouldn’tputitpasthim.
“Youdon’treallyknow.Princess,you’retheonegirlIneverinamillionyearsthoughtI’dget.”Hepressesakisstomytemple.“Holdonformejustalittlelonger.Please.”
WehearJamie’svoice—“TOM!”Thedoorslidesclosedbehindhimandhe’sgone.
Isitdownheavilyinhisofficechair.Whatisthisbeautifulcomplicatedthingweunfurledlastnight?Maybeit’snotabubblethatwehave.Adeflatingsilkhot-airballoonisfillingthisspace.It’severycolor;itcanfloatandtakeusplaces,butonesinglelooseseamcouldenditall.
Butstill,Ineedtolearntobeanoptimist.Afterall,Tomdidn’tendthingswithmejustnow.Heaskedmetowaitforhim.Helovesme.Istretchluxuriouslyintheknowledge—he’smine,he’sgoingtobemineforever,untilhedies.
AsIturnoverthatlastlittlepartoftheconversationinmymind,Irealizesomethingthatmakesmefeelsick.
I’vemadethesamemistakeaswhenIwaseighteen.Helovesme?Iknow.
Idonothingbuttake,take,take.InevertalkfeelingswithamanI’vehadsexwith.Mybrainjustdoesn’ttakethatlogicalpath,toreplyinkind.
“Ohfuck,”Isayoutloud.Pattytiltsherheadatme,hearingthedesperationinmytone.“Patty,Ididn’ttellhimIlovehimback.”Chapter20
IeavesdropasItreadsoundlesslyintothebackhallway,twosteamingcoffeemugsinhandandPattyjoggingalongahead,oblivioustothetroubleshecausedmethismorning.
“So,didshefreak?”Jamiesays.Theroomechoes,thankstoTom’sexecutivedecision.
“Yes.I’mnotdoingthatagain,”Tomreplies,andthere’sthesoundofbricksbeingmoved.“Shekickedmyass.Seriously,whydidIlistentoyou?”
Jamierespondslikeit’sastupidquestion.“Becauseyougiveheranythingshewants.Ifyouaskedherfirst,shewouldhavemadethosebigeyesatyou,andyou’dberebuildingafireplacethatyouknowwillcostusmoneyinthesale.Comeon,theplacelookshuge.She’llgetoverit.”
“Yeah,Iknowtheeyesyoumean.She’sgoodatthose.”Bricks,agrunt.“Idothinkthewallcomingoutwasthebestthingfortherenovation.Butshe’snotsomethingforustogetaround.”
“Shekindofis,”Jamiesays,wickedasusual.
Tomrepliesinagrowl.“She’spartowner.I’mneverdoingitagain.Move,Patty.”
“Okay,”Jamieagreesafterabeat.“Bettertellheraboutthediningroomnow.”
Exasperation.“I’mnottellingher.I’maskingher.”
“Askingmewhat?”IwalkinlikeI’vegotimpeccabletiming.“Well?What?Chriswillbehereinfifteenminutes.HowdoIlook,boss?”IsmilewidelyatTom.“I’mfinallyinuniform.”
“Alittlebig,”Jamiesaysdismissively.
Igivehimadarklook.“Truly’sgoingtoalteritforme.”
TomstaresatmyValeskaBuildingServicesshirtandIthinkheburstsabloodvessel.Orchokeshimself.Somethinginstantandpainful.It’sahugefluorescentpoloinafabricblendIdon’treallycarefor.It’sunbuttonedattheneckandthetopofmybraisshowing.ThisbraisatenontheRichterscale.Iamabadperson.Ashewatches,Igatherthehemandknotitatmyhip.
“Looksfine,”Tomsaysrobotically,butI’mhonestlysurprisedhedoesn’tjustwalkover,pickmeupoverhisshoulder,andcarrymeout.
“Who’sChris?”Jamiehatesbeingoutoftheloop.“Why’shearrivinginfifteen?”
IhandthesecondmugI’mholdingtoTom.“He’sreinforcingthefoundationonthedownhill-slopeside.Andhe’slate.Itoldhimtobringusdoughnutstoapologizeforhispoortimemanagement.”
“Ineedthatsobad,”JamietellsTomwithaslighttremorinhisvoice.Heholdsouttwofingersforthecoffeemug.“Gimme.”
Sugarismybloodtype;caffeineisJamie’s.It’sthecrutchthatkeepshimuprightandfunctioning.Tomjusttakesasipinresponse.Highfive.
Jamiehuffs.“Where’dyougetthat?”
“Shehasacoffeepotinherbedroom,”Tomsays,thenfreezeslikehe’sbusted.
“Okay,thirtyseconds.”Jamiemakesabeelinetothebackdoor.“There’dbetterbeathirdmug.”
“Couldn’tcoverthatwithmakeup?”Tom’slookingatthehickeyonmyneck.“I’mgoingtohavetodealwithguyslookingatthatallday,thinkingaboutyou.”Amemoryeclipseshiseyesblack.Hepresseshisthumbagainstitandnodoubtfeelsmypulse.“That’sminetolookat.”
Ican’tstopmyselffromtiptoeinguptopressakissonhisjaw.Hisstubbleislikesugarcrystalsonmylips.He’sforgottenmybrother.He’sforgottenanyonewhoisn’tme.
“Letthemlook.Iknowwhogaveittome.”
“They’llknow,too.They’renotidiots.”Helooksatthebackdoorandhisnextwordsarebarelyaudible.“Ican’tbelieveJamie’snotpickinguponit.Yourclothesfalloffaroundme.”Hisfingernaildragsacrossthecorporateembroidery.“AmIacompleteanimalforlovingmynameonyourchest?”
“You’vealwaysbeenacompleteanimal,Valeska.I’llexplainittoyousometime.”Itiptoeuptohisear.“WhenI’mwearingthisandnothingelse.”
I’mwastingtime.Ionlyhaveaminute.I’venevertoldamanIlovehim,andthisistheonlyoneI’mevergoingtotell.HowdoIdothisright?
“Hey,whatyouweresayingbefore…”HowdoIframeit?I’mscaredI’mgoingtoopenmymouthandscreamitinhisface.Iswallowandhuffoutabreath.“Iwantedtotellyouthat—”
“Iknow.”HecutsmeoffeasilyandIsinkdownfrommytiptoes.Heknows?Orhedoesn’twanttohearmycringeworthyattemptatadeclaration?HeknowsI’memotionallystuntedandistryingtospareme.Howembarrassingtonotbeabletomatchhissoftnessanddepth.
Herunsahanddownmycollartotidyitbutendsuppullingmecloser.Hebendsdowntoinhaleatmyneck.“Alexbetterhavewashedthisshirt.”
“Hedid.Ithink.”Thisiswhatiseasybetweenus.Thelust.
Thethoughtofanotherman’ssmellonmehashimboilingdownintohisbaseself.It’spalpable;theairsnapselectricandI’mdesperateforhishandsonmyskin.He’shardagainstme.Ifwewerealone,he’dputmeagainstawallandhimselfinme.
WehearmybrothergrumblingandTomputsafewfeetbetweenus.
“Idon’tknowhowyou’rephysicallycapableofthis.”Ilookatthefrontofhispants.“Whatdoesittaketowearyouout?”
He’sstilllookingathisnameonme.“Probablyimpossible.”
Oneofmykneesunlocksatthethought.“Anyway,whatthehell?Notadropfromthemassiveholeintheceiling,butthekitchenhasawaterzit?”Ipointupattheheavybrownbulgeonthekitchenceiling.
Tomshrugs,unfazed.“Welcometomylife.”
“Icountedfourcondomwrappersonthefloor.I’mimpressed,Darce.”JamieboomsitsoloudIheartheflapofpigeonsontheroof,andPattyyaps.
Tommeltscleanthroughthefloorboards.
“Itwasnearlyfive,”IwhispertoTom.“But…priorities.”Irememberhishandtwistingmyhair,tuggingonmyscalp,beggingme.Darce,Darce,no,okay,yes.
Ialmostfeelbadfortormentinghim.Hiscoffeeisspillinginathinstreamonhisboot.Footstepsclompupthebackstairs,heavierthanminebutthesamecadence.ThescreendoorslapsandJamie’sback.
“Christonacracker,notevenI’mthatprolific.I’dgivehimahighfiveifIwasn’tbeatinghimup.Nowonderyouwerenearingtotalheartfailure.”Jamieshamblesin,coffeeinhand.“Betterletherrecoverthismorning,Tom.”
“Yeah,Tom.Maybeyoushouldgoeasyonme.”Isipfrommyhighlyappropriatemug.
Iknowthiswholesituationishigh-stakesserious,butI’mhurtingfromholdingthelaughin.“Thevirginityshipsailedmanymoonsago.Idon’tgetwhyyou’retryingtobesomachoandbrotherly.It’snotimpressingTom.”
“Hey,Idon’tseethismysteryguyhererightnow,doI?”JamiegivesmealookandmiraculouslyIdon’tcrackunderit.“Anyguywhojustwalksoutonyouafterthatkindofeffortisapieceofshit.Can’tyoufindsomeonewhotakesyououtforwafflesthenextday?”
“Hedefinitelywould.He’sjust…busy.Wait,isthatwhatyoudo?”Ineveroncefoundagirlhavingbreakfastinthiskitchen.MaybeJamie’sgottenromanticsincemovingtothecity.
Jamieputsahandonhiship.“You’redamnrightIdo.AndI’msureTomwouldtreatawomanbetterthanthat.Whatwouldyoudoifyousawsomeguysneakingoutofherroomintheweehours?”
Tomlooksintohiscoffeemug,thinking.HecaneasilypassthistestofJamie’s.Hiseyesmeetmine,andthey’rebrutalhonesty.“I’dfuckhimup.”
Igivehimawitheringlook.
JamienodsatTom,satisfied.“Justgetsomeonedecent,Darce.TomandIwanttogetwastedatyourweddingandgrindonyourbridesmaids.”Hebeginsdancing,slowandsensual,withhismugheldinfrontofhim.Hefiguredoutwhenhewasfiveyearsoldthatwomenloveaguywhodancesandit’sservedhimwell.
“Checkoutthisbodyroll.”
It’sagoodone.Hedoesn’tevenspillhiscoffee.TomandIlaugh,whichonlyencourageshim.Thisiswhathappensatparties.Jamiegetscarriedaway,there’saringofpeopleclappingaroundhim,andheendsupkissingagirlagainstawallnearthebathrooms.
Ishakemyhead.“IfyoudoasurprisechoreographeddanceatmyweddingI’mgonnakillyou,Jamie.”
“Hewould,”Tomagrees,hiseyesfond.Helovesmyridiculousbrother.
Jamie’sgrinning.“I’lldoone,withyourhottestfriend.Whoisshe?”
“Youknowwho.”Iwaitandwait,untilI’mforcedtosupplyit.“TrulyNicholson,fromhighschool.She’ssuchagoddamnpeach.IfIwasgay,ortheboytwin,I’dmarryher.”
Jamiecoughswetly.Ithinkheprefershiswomenalittlesparse.Nowthefunisgone.
“So,wewanttotellyou…No,wait.Tom,youdoit.You’regoodataskingherthings.”Jamieregardsmethoughtfully.“Ibetshe’dsayyestoanythingyouaskher.”
“I’dsayyou’reright,”mymouthsayswithoutmypermission.Mytoesarecurlinginmyshoes.
Tomrebootshismainframecomputerduringalengthysipofcoffee.
“Nowthatthisisgone,”hesays,meaningthewall,“Ithinkweshouldturnthediningroomintoathirdbedroom.Thisisatwo-bedroomcottage,whichisn’tasappealingforafamilybuyer.Ifwewanted,wecouldmakeitthemasterandaddasmallensuite.Anextraroom,anextrabathroom.”
Jamiefinishesthethought.“Extrabucks.Alotextra.”
“Sure,”Isay,andfinishmycoffeeinonehotswallow.
“Wait,what?Youjustagree?”JamietagsalongbehindmeasIgointothekitchen.
“Whatdoyoumean,doIjustagree?I’mthereasonableone,whenI’maskedcorrectly.”IgiveTomalookandhecringesinapology.
Therearestilltilesonthewallwherethecounterusedtobeinthekitchen.Igetthecrowbarandpopthemoffwithneatlittlemovements,becauseI’mashow-off.
IsaytoTom,“It’sagoodidea.Butifwe’regoingtocutbackalltheshrubs,headlightswillshineintothatroomatnight.We’llneedsomegoodblinds.AndIwantthefireplaceintherekept.Evenjustfordecoration.”
“Okay,”Tomsays.He’sgotanoteofdisbeliefinhistone.
“Wait,wait,wait.We’reallagreeing?Thisplacewillbedoneinnotime.”Jamielooksatthecrowbar.“Givemeago.”
“No.”Itrytoholdontoitbutit’snouse.Mybrotheristhemuchbigger,muscledversionofme.Heplucksitoutofmyfistwithtwofingers.Ilookupaboveus.“Thiswaterdamagelooksbad.”
“Tom’llfixit,”Jamiesayswithoutanythought.Everysingletimewesaythingslikethiswithsuchconfidence,thepressureonTomjustgetsworse.
“We’llallfixit,together.”Iputmyhandonhisphoneinmypocket.IwonderwhatelseJamieandIcandotohelphimbreatheoutalittlemore.
“You’renotdoinganymorework,”Jamiesaystome.“Youwereaghostbarelyhalfanhouragoandyou’vebeenupallllnightlong.You’refired.”
“Itookmymedication.Tom,I’mfinenow.Tellhim.”
Jamietapsthecrowbarinhispalm.“No,youtellhimabouthowyougotdizzyinthebathroomandpracticallycollapsedafteradayofnofood.Youwereallwhitefromlowbloodsugar.Mymolegavemetheupdate.”
“Ididn’t.”Ilookbetweenthemboth.“Tom,itwasbarelyanything.”Tom’seyeschangeasmylittleheart-sizedbetrayalsinksin.
“EvenwhenI’mnothere,Iknowifsomethingmajor’sup.”Jamieshouldersmeasideandbeginssmashingtiles.He’sleavingbigshardsintactinsteadofpoppingthemoffclean.“I’mprotectingmyinvestments.”Mybrotherisperformingshoddyworkmanshipwithasmileonhisface.Whyshouldhedoanythingcarefullyorperfectly?Hewasbornmale.“Connections,plustwinsenses,equalsJamieknowseverything.AndIknowyouguysaregettingprettychummy.”
Idon’tletmyselfbataneyelash.“Letmekeeptrying.”
“No.”Tom’smadatmeforlying.“Nomorephysicalwork.”Pattyislookingatmeevenmoregimlet-eyedthanusual,balancedinthetriangleofhisarm.
“Great.Lessthanonehoursincemybrotherarrived,andI’mkickedoffmyownproject.”
Tomlooksathiswatch.“Inaminuteortwo,thatphoneisgoingtostartringing,andit’snotgoingtostop,believeme.I’vegotabunchofrentalequipmenttogetandquotesIhaven’tfinishedchasingup.Youknowthat’swhatIneedyoufor.”
“Andhey,shehasacoffeepot,”Jamiesays.
“You’renotfired,”TomsayswithaviciousglareatJamie’sback.“You’rereassigned.Focusonthesoldsign,notaboxofbrokentiles.Getbig-picturewithmehere,DB.”
Ineedtopullbackandreframeonthebigger,morebeautifulpictureofkissingTomValeskaeveryminuteofeverydayuntilwedieofexhaustion.There’snopointinscrapingoffthewallpaperifI’mtoodeadtohavehimafterthesalecheckclears.
TomisspeakinglikeJamieisn’there.“I’veneverrunmyownbusiness,butyouhave.That’swhatIneedhelpwith.ValeskaBuildingServicescannotfunctionwithoutyou.”
Theprotectivebeastinsidemecan’trefuse.“CanIhaveajobtitle?”
“DeputysitemanagerofValeskaBuildingServices?”Hehasasparkinhiseyeswhentheyflickdowntothepolotopthat’sdoingitforhimbetterthanastrappysetoflingerie.“Yeah,thatsuitsyou.”
“Hearthat,Jamie?Ijustgotapromotion.”IwonderifIsleptmywaytothetop.
“He’sgotasoftspotforyouaboutamillionmileswide,”Jamiegrumbles.“Andyoutakeadvantageofit,DeputyDarcy.”
IguessmymouthiscurlinginasmilebecauseTomgivesmealooklike,Don’t
“What’syournextflip?”Jamiedoesn’twaitforTomtoreply.“I’mbuyingthathousethestreetbackfrommyparents.It’snotbeachfrontbutstillagoodlocation,andsocheap.Whatadump.Ineedyoutogogetitinhabitable.”
“Maybe,”Tomhedges.Iknowhe’sthinkingabouthisbudgetmiscalculation.
“Afterthis,Tomisnotdoingusanymorefavors.”Itrytotakethecrowbarback.“He’sfreeandclear.”
Jamieismakingabrutishmessofthetiles.Hedecidesinhismindthathe’llconvinceTomandmoveson.Nexttopic.“IneedtoseewhetherIcangetthetimeoffforyourheartappointment.Givemethedate.”
“Howdoyouevenrememberthesethings?Youdon’tneedto.”
“Christmas,Easter,Darcy’sheart.I’vecomewithyoueverysingletimesincewewereborn,”Jamiesays,swingingthecrowbarathissidelikehe’sthinkingaboutbrainingmewithit.“You’veskippedtwoyearsnow.Thedamnthingisprobablyabouttoconkout.Evenifwearen’ttechnicallytalkingtooneanotherrightnow,I’mstillcoming.”
He’dflytomydoctor’sappointment?“Why?”
“I’myourwalkingtalkingorgandonor.I’dbettermakemyselfavailable.”
“You’vegotoneheart,youidiot.”
“Iknow,”Jamiesays.“I’mkeepingitwarmforyou.”
Myidiottwinstilllovesme.Ican’thelpit,IwrapmyarmsaroundhimandsqueezeuntilIfeelhisribscreak.Hedoesitbacktomeandnowwe’relockedinaclassicBarrettstranglehold.Tighterandtighter.
“Ow,ow,”IcryasmybootsleavethefloorandJamiebeginsshakingmearoundlikeadog.“Toomuch,Jamie,down.”Pattyisjumpingaroundbeneathmytoes,barkingandnipping.IhearTomlaughing.Lifeisgolden.I’mgoingtoliveforever.
“Sendmetheappointmentdetails,”Jamierepeatsasheputsmedown.He’sflushedpinkandsmiling.I’msureI’mthesame.
“WhatifI’vegotsomeoneelsetocome,too?”MaybeTom’spresenceintheappointmentwillhelpthedamnthingbeatproperlyforonce.
“Who?Mr.Hickey?Introducehimtome,andI’llconsiderit.”JamiegrinsoveratTom,willinghimtojoininonthemessing-with-Darcygame.Hepushesmebackoutofourhug,butnotinameanway.“Ididn’tknowyoufinallydisclosedyourlittlecardiosituationtoaguy.Mustbeserious.”
“MaybeIwillintroduceyou.You’lllikehim.”
“Idoubtit.Haveyouseenthisguy,Tom?Letmeguess.He’sforeverseventeen,withashankinhispocket.”
Tomcan’thelphimself;helaughsoutloud.Jamieisgratifiedandbeginshackingawayattheremainingbitsoftileonthewall.
“I’mgoingtointroduceyoutoaguyIworkwith.Arealadulthumanmale.That’llbeanoveltyforyou,Darce.”JamiegrinsatTomtoseeifhelaughsatthatone.“HisnameisTyler.”
“Saynomore.Hesoundsrepulsive.”
“It’snothisfaultthathisparentsnamedhimthat.He’stall,likeswalkingandanimalsandallthatshitchickslove.Hehasamotorcycleandthelooks.”Heturnstometoimpressthatveryimportantsellingpoint.“Amotorcycle.”
Behindhim,Tomcrosseshisarms.
“He’sdownthiswayforaconferencenextweek.I’vegivenhimtheaddress.He’sgoingtopickyouupandyoucangoforaride.Onhismotorcycle.”ToTom,Jamiewinksconspiratorially.“Oneofmyfoolproofplans.”
Ikickmybrother’sshin.“No.Ifheturnsup,I’mgoingtoturnthegardenhoseonhim.Quitmessingwithmylovelife.”
“Lovelife?Love?”Jamiechortles.“You’veneversaidthatwordinyourlife.Lovelife?Morelikeyourvigoroussexlife.”Hereachestowardmynecktopatatmyhickeyanddoesn’tnoticehowTom’schangingbehindhim.“HopethatfadesbeforeTylergetshere.”
“Noplans.Forgetitwiththatguy,”Tomadvisesmybrother,hisvoicedippingdownintothattonethatmyovarieslike.“WhatdidIjustsay?I’llfuckhimup.”
“Notrequired,”Isay,andmaneuvertheconversationswiftlybacktomybrother.“Stillwiththatbeautifultallgreyhound?”
“Rachel?Ibrokeupwithher.Shekeptdraggingmepastjewelrystorewindows.I’vegotmyeyeonsomeoneelse.”Jamierealizessomethingandhismouthdropsopen.Ihopethat’swhatIlooklikewhenIsmile.“I’dprobablybetheonedraggingherpastajewelrystorewindow.”
Forjustonemoment,he’sfilledwithstained-glasscolorandhiseyesbrightentocornflowerblue.IwishIhadmycamera.Thenherememberssomethingandresumesahalf-heartedchippingatthewall.
Iexhale.“Well,I’mgladshe’snotgettingLoretta’ssapphire.Thankfuckforthat.Idon’tsuppose—”
“No.Sheleftittome.Itisformybride.”Jamiesaysmybrideinastupidfalsettovoice.Heavenhelpwhoeverheeventuallydecideson.
“Atleastletmewearit.Orlookatit.”
AccordingtoLoretta,thesapphireturnedblackfrombeingburiedinaflowerpotduringthewar.Whichwar,I’mnotsure.Isitthetruth?Notsure.Myfavoriteringintheworldisnowlivingafateworsethanaflowerpot’s:It’sinJamie’ssafe.
“Nameyourprice.”Ijustcan’tshutmymouth.“I’mguessingacoolbillion?”
He’llneverbudgeonthis.“I’mgonnaneedthatringoneday.Thetwinsaren’tgettinganyyounger.Timeforustofindacoupleofunluckyvictimstodealwithourbullshit,forlife.”
“I’msureyourbridewouldprefersomethingfromTiffany.Letmehavethering,please.Imight…Imightnotbearoundthatlong.”IletmyvoicegofeebleasIplaythecrappy-heartcardandJamieseesrightthroughit.EvenTomhalflaughs,hispossessivebristlingeasingoff.
Isighandgiveup.“Makesureshe’ssomeoneIwon’thate,sittingtherewearingmyringwhenweallgoonthatcruisewhenwe’reeighty.She’llcomedrinkwhiskeyOldFashionedswithmebeforelunchandmaybeletmetryiton.”
IfTomhasawifeandit’snotme,I’lllureheroutofhiscabinatnightandhoistheroldbonesoverboard.
“We’regoingonacruisewhenwe’reeighty?Can’twait.I’mgoingtobesoloaded.”Jamiesmiles,positivelyromanticabouthisfuturebankaccount.Thenherememberssomething.“Don’tgetyourhopesup.ShethinksI’manightmare.Butyeah.She’dday-drinkonacruiseshipwithyou.”
It’sasorepointandIreally,reallywanttopressit,becauseJamieisactuallyhavingtodosomechasingforonce.Iloveher,whoeversheis.“Well,soundslikeshe’sgotyournumber.What’shername?”
“Nope.”Hisearsarered.Frustrationgetsmerightbythethroat.JudgingbyhisbodylanguageandthecrowbarinhishandI’dbetterleaveit.Once,Ikneweverysinglethingaboutmybrother.HowcanIgetbacktothatplaceifheforevershutsmedown?
IwonderifTomknows.Heshakeshisheadwithashrug.
“Can’twaittogoonthatcruisewithyouandyourelderlyhusband,Tyler,”Jamietries,butIwavehimoffwithascowl.
“So,we’reagreed,thisisabedroom?”Tomisintheentrancetothediningroom,andalsohisownpersonalhell.Iknowwhathe’dwhisperaboutTyler—inthedark,rhythmicallyknockingtheairoutofme.Thatfuckercannothaveme.
He’sbucklingsomethingaroundhiswaist,slow,likeit’srevenge.It’sanhonest-to-goodnesstoolbelt.There’sahammerononeside.ItsitslowonhishipsandIcan’ttakeit.
Everythingboilsupinsideofme,andthefloorvibratesundermyfeet,mybonesshake,myheartbumps.ThestitchesunraveloutoftheshirtI’mwearing,myheartunspoolslikecottonandIcan’thandletenmoresecondsofnotkissinghim.Iputmyhandonmyhickeyandbitemylip.IclencheverythingsoIdon’tmakeasound.
HeconvincedmelastnightthatI’mbeautiful.Fromthelookinhiseye,Iconvincedhimhe’sasexualgenius.Thefaintestsmirktoucheshislips.“Darce?Youwantabedroom,right?”
Icoughtoclearmythroat.“Makeitaroomfitforaprincess.Wallpaperandafireplaceandafour-posterbed.Makesomeonefallinlovewiththatroom.”
“Sure,likeit’ssoeasy,”Jamierepliestomewithsomesnarkinhisvoice.“He’snotyourslave.”
“Oh,’causehe’syourslave?”Tom’sphonebuzzesinmypocket.“Tom,it’syourmom.Gosh,prettyearlyforher.”Ihandhimthephone.ThenIroundonmybrother.Thatfamiliarfeelingisintheair.ABarrettBattle.
“So,yougotTomtoknockdownmyfireplace.”Iknowthisiswrong.Thiswon’tleadtoanythinggood.ButIhavetostartgettingJamieusedtothefactthatTomisgoingtochoosemeoverhimfromnowon.
“ItoldhimItrusthim.Isn’tthatwhatyoudo?Trusthim?Whynotnow?”Jamieplantshisfeetrightwherethefireplacewasandholdsouthisarms.“Theroomishuge.There’ssomechanceofmakingitlookmodernnow.”
Tomisspeakinginsoothingtonesonhisphoneandslipsoutthefrontdoor.“He’sgoingtocrack,”IsayasIwatchhimleave.“Howmuchmorecangetpiledonhim?I’mtryingtohelphim.”
“You’renevergoingtohelphim.Ever.You’reamonkeyonhisback.”Jamiehopesthathurt.Whenitdoesn’t,hetriesagain.“He’sonlyherebecauseIaskedhimtobe.”
“He’sonlyherebecauseI’mhere.”I’vejustblurtedthewrongthing,andthistimeJamiedoesn’tmistakewhatImean.HelaughsandlooksmeupanddownlikeI’mnothingspecial.
“Whodoyouthinkyouare?”Heasksitsweetly.It’sthosesamewordsheusedinourbigfight.ThewordsthatechoinmyheadeverytimeItakeoutthetrashatthebaroropenaboxoffiftynoveltymugs.
“WhodoIthinkIam?I’mDarcyfuckingBarrett!”
Jamielaughsnow.Myshortcharadeisover,clearly.“Youthinkyouhaveachancewithhim?”
Mytemperisaneruptingvolcano.“Idohaveachance!”Ipointatmyneck.“That’shis!He’sminenow!”It’ssosatisfying,watchingtheairleaveJamie’sbody.It’sluscious.I’vewon.“He’smine.Helovesme.I’mkeepinghim.”
“Keepinghim,”Jamiesplutters.“Keepinghim?You’resleepingwithTom?Darcy,whatdidwetalkabout?”
“Youcan’tstandtoseemehappy.”
“Oh,andTomlookssofuckinghappy,”Jamiecounters.“Didyouatleasthandlethemorningafterlikeagrownup?”Heseestheminutehesitationinmeandswoopsonit.“Youjustdidwhatyoualwaysdo.Youenjoyedyourself,didzerofeelings,andyou’regoingtobegonethenexttimeaflightgoesonsale.”
“NotthistimeIwon’t.”Ievensurprisemyselfwithmyintensity.Jamieblinksandbacksup,buthequicklyrallies.
“Onlybecauseyouhavenopassport.Everfindthatthing?”
“Give.It.Back.”
“Idon’thaveit,”Jamiesays,andhe’stellingthetruth.Helooksoutthefrontwindow,distracted.“Seriously,Darce,why’dyouhavetopickTom?He’swaytoogoodforyou.Youtookadvantageofhim.He’ddowhateveranyoneaskedhim.”
“WellIaskedanawfullotofhimlastnight.”
“See?Compareyourselftohim,wouldyou?He’snothingbutgoodandhonestanddeservingofahappily-ever-after.You’rejust…”Jamierackshisbrain.“You’rehumanflotsam,youknowthat?”
Thephrasehangsintheairlikeagong.
“Whatdidyoujustcallme?”
Jamierecoversseamlessly.“You’retrashcomparedtohim.”
“No.Callmewhatyoucalledmethefirsttime.”Ifeellikemyveinsarefullofhotwater.“Youcalledmehumanflotsam.Humanflotsam.”Iadvanceonhimandhebeginstobackaway.ImagesofTruly’sphoneflashingwithrepeatednotificationsbeginstomakesense.Herblush.Heravertedeyes.ThewayshechangesthesubjectfromJamie,everytimewithoutfail.“How?Howdidyougettoher?Trulyisyourworksitemole?”
Ipickupabrickandthrowitathim.Ithitsthewallandtakesachunkoutofit.Jamiebendsdownforabrickofhisown.Nowit’son.It’sWorldWarIV,withbricksinsteadofadinnerset.
“IcantalktowhoeverIwant,”heyellsbackatme,andthrowsthebrickpastmyhip.“Idon’thavetofuckinganswertoyou.”
“She’smine.Myfriend.Mybestfriend.”
“Well,he’smine.”Wecirclearoundeachother,furious.Thisisthefightthatwenevergottofinish.AthintrickleofwaterrunsbetweenusbutIbarelyregisterit.AllIcanseeismybrother’sfuriousface,redembarrassedears,andthesheenonhisbrow.
Iscreaminfrustration.“How?Tellmehowyougother.Explainittome.”Ipickupanotherbrickandweighitinmypalm.Iimaginethrowingitathisfaceandit’svivid.“Youcouldn’tjustleavethatonepersonalone.TheonepersonIwantedallformyself.”
“She’smyfriend!”Jamieroars.
“No,she’snot!”Ithrowthebrickandittakesadevastatingchunkoutofthefloorboard.“Justbecauseyouthinkyou’reGod’sgifttowomendoesn’tmeanshe’llfallforit.”
Thatknockssomewindfromhissails.Irememberwhathesaid—ShethinksI’manightmare.“I’mtellingthetruth,Darcy.She’soneofmybestfriends.We’vebeenemailingeachother.”Ilaughderisivelyatthat,butJamiesilencesme.“Ineededawaytokeepaneyeonyouafterourfight.IemailedherfromtheUnderswearswebsite.Shereplied.Ilikedit.”
Iadvanceonhimwithmyhandsoutstretched.I’mgoingtokillhim.Andher.Andeveryone.“Jamie,youlittlefuckwit.”
“Stopit,”Tomsaysfromtheopendoorway.He’sgothisphoneinhishandandagrimnessinhisexpression.“Stopit,bothofyou.”Helooksup.Thetarpcoveringtheholeintheroofisleaking.“Ileavetheroomfortwominutes,andthis.”Heseesthenewdamagewe’vecausedandthebrickinmyhand.“Whathaveyoudone,Darcy?”
“Heknowseverything.Thatwe’retogether.You’remine,onehundredpercent.”
Tomjustwalkstomeandtakesthenextbrickfrommyhand.Andhedoesn’tsayanything.
“Well?”Jamiesnaps.“Well?”
“Ican’tdothisanymore,”Tomsays.He’scoldandfurious.Somethinginsidemebeginstoslide.
“Justtellhimthatyouloveme,andwe’retogether,andwe’llgoupandfixthetarpandstackthebricks.Tom,tellhim.”
“Iaskedyouforonething.Don’ttellJamieuntilthehouseissold.Threemonthsofwaitingforme.Butthatwastoomuchtoask.”
“I’vewaitedmywholelifeforyou.”Ibitemylip.Iputmyhandoutforhimbuthestepsoutofreach.“I’msorry.YouknowwhatI’mlike,Ijust—”
Tomglancesathiswatch.“Yeah,Iknowwhatyou’relike.Iaskedforthreemonths.Youlastedthirtyminutes.”Herefusestotellmybrotherthathelovesme.
“Hello,I’mrighthere,”Jamiesayssarcastically.“Youwantedtolietome?”
There’smoretothis.“Shutup,Jamie.Whatwasthatphonecall?What’shappened?”Istepintohimagain.
Tomexhalesandcloseshiseyes.“Mymomisbeingevictedaswespeak.Just…furnitureandcatsandshe’shysterical.”
Ihatehowmyhandsarenotregisteringonhim.“ThisearlyonaSunday?”
“Herlandlordisajerk.Ineedtogetthere.”Theangerisdullingawayintoafrighteningflatness.
“Look,”Jamiesays,flickinghiseyestominewithalarm.“Wegotoutofhand,likewedo,butwe’llfixthis—”
“We’llgonow,”IinterruptJamieurgently.“We’llallgoand—”
“Aldowasright.”Tomislookingupattheholeintheceiling.“I’mnotcutoutforthis.I’mnottheboss.I’mthemuscle.”
“You’redoinggreat,”JamieandIsay,practicallyinunison.
“Iwouldn’thaveevenmadeitthisfarwithoutDarcy.Ican’tmanagethephoneandthesite.Thatmuchisobvious.Howunprofessional,right?Enlistingtheclient?IneversawAldodothat.”
“Aldohadyoutodelegateto.Youcan’tdelegatetoyourself,”Jamieargues.
Tomisunswayed.“Sodon’tyouthinkthat’sgoingtobeaproblemwhenImovetothenextsite,andwhenlifegetshardagainforyouandyouleave?”Helooksatme.
“You’vegoteverythingwrong.I’mnotgoinganywhere.”Ilookatmybrotherandwidenmyeyes.“Helpme.”
“Let’sjustrelax,”Jamiesays,attemptingTom’sspecialtoneandfailingmiserably.
Tomputsahandonhiship.“Enoughlies.Jamie,Ifuckedupthebudget.”
“Fuckeditup,how?”Jamie’seyessharpen.MoneyishisAchilles’heel,andit’spinching.“Howmuch?”
“Myentirefivepercent,probably.Iusedanoldspreadsheetfortheproject.Ididn’tupdateitwiththenewrateIpromisedmycrewtomoveoverwithme.Plusthemotelcostsforthecorethree.Ijust…fuckedup.”Heliftshisarmsanddropsthem.“Acompletelystupidsimpleerror,andIwastoodistractedtonoticeit.Sothereyougo.Somemoreammunitionforyoutobringupoverandover,fortherestofyourlife.Haha,rememberhowTomcouldn’tswim?RememberhowTomscreweduphisfirstsolojobever?”
“Iwanttoseethespreadsheet,”Jamieordershim.“Now.Wehaveacontract—”
“I’mwellaware.”Tomturnshiseyestomine,andthere’sastarknessinthemnow.“AndI’vebeenlyingtoyouaboutsomething.”
“Idon’tcarewhatitis.”Iwillnotbreakunderthis,whateveritis.“Idon’tcareifshe’sstillgotherring.Iftheweddingisbackon.Ifyou’realreadymarried.Itwon’tstopmefromlovingyou.”
Hesilencesme.“I’vegotyourpassport.”
Everythingdrainsoutofme,andmyAchillesislancedcleanthrough.“What?”
“IfounditthenightIarrived.Itwasontopofthefridge.Outofyoureyeline.”Thefaintesttingeofasmileisonhisface.“Iputitinmypocket,andIkeptit.IhadamillionlittlemomentsIcouldputitsomewhereyoucouldfindit,butIdidn’twantto.Iwantedtokeepyouhere.Soyeah,”hesaysashewalkstowardthebackdoorwithPattyathisheels.“I’mnottheperfectpersonyoubothrequiremetobe.”
Thescreendoorslaps.Igotochasehim,butJamiestopsme.
“Lethimcooldown.Lookwhatyou’vedone.”Hepassesahandoverhisface,rattled.“Whatthehell?”Helooksatthebackdoor.
“I’veneverseenhimlooklikethat,”IgoagainforthedoorbutJamiehookshisarmaroundmywaist.
“Letmego.”
“No,Iwon’t.”Jamie’sholdingmesohardithurts.“IfIletyouwalkout,that’sit.It’sgoingtobeyouandhim,versusme.You’rebothgoingtocompletelyforgetaboutme.”
IwouldreplywithsarcasmbutIhearthefearinhisvoice.“You’renotgoingtobecutout.Nothingchanges,exceptformeandTom.”
“IfIfindoutthathe’sjustbeenhangingaroundmeallthistimetogettoyou,Idon’tknowifIcanhandlethat.Thatguyismyonlyrealfriend.”Jamie’sbodyisdefensive—armscrossed,loomingoverme,buthiseyesarelikehe’sascaredkid.
“Ofcoursethat’snottrue.”IputahandonJamie’selbow.“Let’salljusttalkaboutit.Youstayhereandmanagethesite.I’llgowithTomandgethismom.”
“Okay.TakehertoMomandDad’s.”Hethinksofsomething.“I’msettlingsoononmyinvestmentproperty.I’llrentittoTom’smom.”Jamienoticessomethingoutthefrontwindow.“Thefoundationguyishere.Withdoughnuts.”Heopensthedoorforhim.“Yeah,comein.Hi.We’rejustinthemiddleofacrisis,but…”
JamieandIspendaminuteortwotryingtofakeitthatwe’vegotittogether.Chrismarvelsattheholeintheceiling,andwepretendthatit’snobigdeal.Wedon’thaveagaping,terribleholeinthecenterofouruniverse,leakingrainliketears.
“I’llgogetTom,”Itellthemboth.Iwalkdowntomybedroom,buthe’snotthere.Iwalkupthesideofthehouse.Iamsteppingalongsidetheprintsleftbymyheelsthismorning.Howfuckingtypical.Ikeepwalkingthesameimpulsive,selfishpath.
Tom’struckhasreversedalmostoutofthedrive.I’mrunning,butI’mnotfastenough.Itry.I’vechasedhimasfarasthecornerofSimonsStreetwhenIloseallpower,andinhisrearviewmirrorifhelookedhe’dseemedoubledover,cursingmyheart,cursingmyself.
ButIfeellikethistimehedoesn’tlookbackforme.
***
AFTERTWODAYSwithoutTom,Iamastone-coldwreck.
“He’llbebacktomorrow,”Jamietellsme,buthisusualconfidenttoneisslipping.Hehandsmeamugoftea.“Drinkthis.”
“Ican’t.”Itwistaroundonthefrontstepsandputitdownwithaslosh.“Ican’t.”Thesunsetissoakingeverythinginobnoxiouslyprettycolors
“You’regonnahavetoeatordrinksomething.Andsleepatsomepoint.Yourhair’sgonnagograyatthisrate.”Jamieslapsmymedicationbottleinmyhand.“Takethem.”Hesitsnexttomewithagroan.He’stiredafterlivingtwodaysofTom’slife.“Ican’tbelievehowmuchshithedealswith.”
Jamiewentintorecoverymodeafterhescoopedmeoffthepavementandmyheartregainedtheabilitytopump.Hehalfcarriedmeinside,satmeontheclosedtoiletlid,andcommandeeredColinthemomenthewalkedin.
“I’lldoubleyourdailyratetobesitemanager.Tom’sgotanemergency.”
“Done,”Colinsaid.There’snoItoldyousoglintinhiseyes,onlyconcern.“Okay,boys,setup,andI’lltaskChris.Power’sofffromninesharp.”WithColin’sexperience,Jamie’sbulldozerwill,andmyphone-answeringskills,therenovationhascontinuedtotickalong.
“Weneedhimback,”Igroandesperately,mashingmypalmsagainstmyclosedeyes.“Webrokehim.”Ihearacarengine.Isitup.Itdrivespast,andIexhaleandputmyheadinmyhands.“DidyoucallMomandDad?”
Jamiehashisarmaroundmyshouldersnow.
“Tomwasthereyesterday.Hedroppedoffhismomarounddinnertime.She’sintheirspareroom,theniceonethatopenstotheocean.She’sokay.Thereareidenticalcatseverywhere.”JamietakesouthisphoneandshowsapicturethatMomsent.Thereareblackandwhitecatsonthebench.Thecouches.Thewindowsillsandontopofthefridge.“Mom’skindoflovingit.ShecallsthemallMr.Tuxedo.”
There’sanothershotofTom’smom,Fiona,wavingatthecamera.Thesmiledoesn’treachhereyes.Itremindsmeofwhenwegaveherourwelcomebasket,allthoseyearsago.
“Idon’tcareaboutcats.Wheredidhego?”
“Momdoesn’tknow.Shesaidhebarelysaidanythingwhilehewasthere,andsaidhehadtogetgoing.Hedidn’tstaythenight.Shetriedtomakehimstay,buthewasjustbackinhistruck.Heapologized,butshedidn’tknowwhatfor.”Jamiehesitatesonsomething
“Tellme.”
“HeleftPattywiththem.”Hewrapshisarmtighteruntilwe’rehiptohip.Together,weshiverthroughallthescenarios.
“Idon’tcarewhathedid.”Ifoundmypassportonmypillow.IwouldputthatthinginthetoastertogetTomback.“Hereallythinkswe’llneverforgivehim.Overmoneyandapassport!”
“It’snotahardleaptomake,”Jamieadmits.“We’rebothpsychopathsabout—”
“Moneyandfreedom.Iknow.Iknow.Ihateus.”Ihangmyheadbetweenmyknees.“Ican’tbearthis.He’sjustdroppedcompletelyoffthegrid.”
“Itsucks,doesn’tit,”Jamiesayswithoutanyaccusationinhistone.He’sgentle.“Thisiswhywegethurtwhenyoudoit.”
“Iwon’tanymore.”Iswallowabiglumpinmythroat.“Ifyoucandealwithme…”
“Yeah.You’restaying.”JamiepatsmyhandandthentakesTom’sphonefromme.“YouknowwehavetotryMegan.”HesaysthiswithanapologyinhisvoicethatI’veneverheardbefore.“Wegotta,Darce.I’mrighthere.”Hekeepshisarmaroundmeashedials.
“Darcy?”Megansayswhensheanswers.
“DarcyandJamie,”JamiesayswhenIhavenovoice.“IsTomthere?”
“Okay,sohetoldmewhattosaywhenyoucalled.Firstthing:Don’tpanic.No,wait,thatwasadviceforme.Secondthing:TellDarcythatwe’renotbacktogether.”Meganexhalesnervously.“Hearthat,Darcy?We’renot.”
“Iheardit.”Myvoiceiscroaky.“Isheokay?”
“Heis.Hesaidheneedstimetothink.Hesaidhemadetwobigmistakes,andhe’smadeyoubothangry.”
“Hehasn’t,”JamieandIanswerintwinunison.
“That’swhatItoldhim,”Meganresponds.“Everyoneknowshowmuchyoutwolovehim.Youknowwhathe’slike.Sohardonhimselfifheisn’t…”
“Perfect.”Thehorriblewordsoundslikeacurseoutofmymouth.“Yeah,weknowit.”
“He’sbeenunderalotofpressureandit’sjustgottentobetoomuch.”
“CanI…CanItalktohim?”Iamsuddenlysickwithnerves.
“He’snotstayingwithme.Heonlycamebyto…”Shepauses.
“Pickupthering,”Jamiesupplieswithnotact.
“Yeah,”shereplies,softandsad.“Hesaidheneededitforsomethingimportant.”
“Megan,I’msorryIstaredatyouatChristmas.”Iblurtitout.“I’msorry.Ineverwantedyouguystobreakup,andIthinkyourskinisphenomenal.”
Shelaughs.Ihearthesoundsofchildreninthebackground.Likeshe’soutside.“Youdidstareatme,somuch.”She’snotresentful.“ButIstaredatyou,too.”
It’slaughable.She’saten.I’masolidsixintherightlight.“Me?Whywouldyou?”
Megancoversthephonereceiver.Sayssomethinglike,Inaminute,sweetie.Thenshesays,“BecauseIalwaysknewhowmuchhelovesyou.”
“Wegrewuptogether,”Isayawkwardly.IlooksidewaysatJamie,buthe’sneutralashelistens.“Ofcoursehelovesme.We’relikefamily.I’mlikehissister.”
“HecamealiveatChristmas,”shetellsme.“Ittookmeyearstoadmitittomyself,butifyouwerethere,hewaslitup.Andifyouweretraveling,hewasflat.It’sokay,”sherushestoassuremeasIbegintoobject.“Iknowthattechnically,Iwassecondinlinetoyou.”
“I’msorry,”Jamieinterjectsdesperately.“IjustthoughtifIintroducedyouguys,you’dhelphimgetoutofhisdepression.Whenyoulefthewasprettybad,”Jamieaddsapologeticallytome.“Meganistechnicallyperfectforhim.”
“No,I’mnot,”Megansays,andthehappysquealofakidnearlydeafensus.“I’mreallynot.ButDarcyis.I’msorry,guys,butI’vegottogo.”
“How’dyougetakidsofast?”I’mgladshejustlaughsinresponse.
“I’mdatingaguywhohasathree-year-old.I’mjustattheparkwatchingthemplayaround.It’sbeenquiteunexpected.Likefallinginlove,doubled.”Meganpauses.“Canyouguysletmeknowwhenhegetsback?Pleasegoeasyonhim.”
“Irealizedsomething.Tomhasneveraskedusforanything.Didyouknowthat?”Jamiesays,andlookstome.Irackmybrains.It’strue.“Nothing.Notaglassofwaterifit’shot.Notmoney,nothelp,nothing.Hejustdoesn’tknowhowtoask.”
“ThatwassomethingIhadanissuewith,too,”Megansays.
“It’seasy,”Icorrectthemboth.“Youjustforceitonhim,andhesighsandsaysokay.”
“Ithinkthatonlyworksifyou’reyou,”Jamiepointsout.“Andyes,Megan,we’llgoeasyonhim.There’snothinghecandothatwillmakeus…”Jamiecan’tfinish.Hisvoicehaschokedup.
“Stoplovinghim,”Isupply,strongandsteady.“He’smadeafewfuckupsbutthey’renobigdeal.Welovehim.Wejustwanthimback.We’llmakesureweearnhimthistime.”
Wehangupandstareatthestreettogether.Whenthenextcarapproaches,JamieandIsitupstraighttogether.Slumptogether.Forthefirsttimesincewewerekids,weleantogether.
“You’reright,Darce,”Jamiesaysafteranendlessstretchoftimehaspassedandwehavegoosebumpsandmosquitobites.“ThetwinsneedtoworkouthowwecanpossiblydeservesomeonelikeTomValeska.Whenhecomesback,wehavetobeabletoproveit.”
Ilinkmyarmintomybrother’s.“Howcanwepossiblydothat?He’sso…”Thewordperfectisn’tallowedanymore.Ilookupatthesky,andashootingstarstreaksoverhead,trailingdown.
Loretta’shere.Ifeelher.Iletthetearsrundown.“Imisshim.Imissher.”
JamieknowsexactlywhoImean.“Wehaven’tlosteitherofthem,notreally.They’rebothjust…takingaholiday.It’sokay.We’llmakeitright.”
“ButheleftPatty.”Ihavetomarvelathowmyheartcankeepbeatingthisslowandsteady,evenasIputmyfaceintoJamie’sshoulderandcry.
***
“IEMAILEDHIMtheappointmentdetails,”Jamiesaystomeaswetakeaseatinmycardiologist’swaitingroom.“Isentittohisoldemailaddress.Ibethestillchecksit.He’sgoingtomakeit.Iknowit.Todayistheday.”Stronger,heassuresme,“Hepromisedyou.”
Idon’trespond.I’mnotusingmyvoicealotlately.I’mjustafadedhalfperson,keptalivebyTrulyhand-feedingmecandyandJamiepouringwaterdownmythroat.It’sbizarreseeingtheminthesameroom.Theybustlearoundtogether,arguingandpushingandcajoling.Jamie’sright.Shethinkshe’sanightmare.Areallyhandsomenightmare.
Luckilyhehasn’tnoticedityet.
“I’msorry,I’msorry,”Trulyhadburstoutwiththemomentshewalkedintositonthesideofmybed,butIjustshookmyheadwearily.Whocares.Iknowwhatmybrotherislike.Whocouldresistreplyingtooneofhischeeky,funnyemails?Noone.Notasinglepersononearthwhohadmethimcouldignorehim.Ishouldn’tkeepholdingmyfriendstoastandardtheycan’tachieve.
Shehuggedmeuntiltheskywentblack,andJamieorderedapizza.IfIwasn’tsoheartbroken,I’ddigaroundintheirrelationshipalittle,butIcan’tdoanythingexceptholdTom’sphone,andcorrectmyselfeverytimeIfalter.
He’sgoingtocomebacktoyou.Hewill.
IwatchasJamieselectsamagazineforme.“GolfDigest,”hesays,tryingtomakemelaugh,andunfoldsitonmythighstoanarticle.“Comeon,Darce.Gottaworkonyourbackswing.”
“Fine.Butyouneedtoimproveyourselfaswell.”Ichooseamagazineforhim.“Learnhowtobakeaglazedham.”Thesedays,we’reallaboutself-improvement.We’redeterminedtomakeourselvesbetterversions.WebothfocusonourassignedreadinguntilTom’sphonebuzzes.Likealways,wejumpandscrabbleforit.
“It’samessagefromtherealestateagent.Margie’scomingatthree.Willwebebackintime?”
“Yes,andifnot,Colincantakeherthrough.”It’sbeentwomonths.It’shardtobelievethatwehaveafairlywell-formedhousetoshowanagent.Shewantstoprepareagameplan.Thedemandforpropertiesinourareahasgonered-hot.
“Twomonths,”IsaytoJamie,andheknowswhatImean.
Wesitandstareblanklyatthereceptionist’sdeskforawhile.Iturnmyheadwithefforttolookatmybrother.Mymirror.HelooksasbadasIdo.
“Yeah,welookshitty,”hesaysasherollshisfacetomine.We’rejusttwoblondcadavers.“It’sfuckingridiculous,isn’tit?”
“What?”
“Howwecan’tlivewithouthim.”
“Yeah.That’swhatI’mworriedthey’regoingtotellmeinthisappointment.I’magoner,Jamie.”Igroantiredlyandslipintoahalfsnooze.
Astheminutestickalong,Ihavetoacceptit.He’sgone.He’snotcomingbackformeandmystupidheart.Icheckthephoneinmyhandagain.Iwanttosqueezeamessageoutofit.Justonewordthathe’sokay,andIcangetmyselfhookedupandthey’llfindaheartbeat.
Thenameiscalledthatturnsbothourheads.“Barrett?”
“Wejustneedtowaitaminutelonger,”Jamiearguespolitelywiththecardiologist’sassistant.“We’rewaitingforourfriendtocometotheappointment,too.”
“I’llbringtheminwhentheygethere,”thereceptionisttellsus.“Weneedtokeeptotheschedule.”Defeated,theBarretttwinsskulkdownthelongwhitehallway.I’mscared.Myheartisadeadapricotkernel.They’llhavetosewmetoJamietoborrowhis,andwe’llhavetoliveasSiamesetwins.
Jamie’shandclosesonmine,andI’veneverbeenthisscaredformyself.“WhatamIgoingtodo?”Iwhispertohimasweareseated.“What?”
“Idon’tknow,”herepliestome,hushed.“Butyou’llbeokay.I’mhere.”
“DarcyBarrett,”Dr.Galdonsaystomewithaflourish.He’sknownmeforyears.“Ihavenotseenyourfaceinalong,longtime.”Hissmilefadesoffwhenthewittyrejoinderhe’sexpectingdoesn’thappen.Fromeithertwin.“What’shappening?”
“Justalittlebrokenhearted,”Isaylistlessly.“It’snotfeelinggoodinthere.”Ipointatmychest.
“Hmm,”Dr.Galdonsays,andItrytonotreadtoomuchintohisexpressionashechecksmybloodpressure.IknowIlookabsolutelyterrible.I’vegotbladecheekbonesandmyeyeballsarepermanentlypink.Tomthoughtmyclotheswerefallingoffbefore?Ilooklikeamopslidintoblackfabric.
“Let’sgetyouhookedup.”Ichangeintoagownbehindascreenattheendoftheroom.Dr.Galdonhelpsmesitupontotheedgeoftheexaminationbenchandwheelsovertheheartmonitor.Hestickslittlepadsalloverme,connectingthewirestohismachines.Thisusedtoscaremesomuchasakid.IthoughtIwasgoingtobeshockedtolife.Maybethatwouldbeagoodmoveformenow.
“Sheeatsnothing,forgetshermedication,it’sexpired,”Jamiesnitchesonmeinadullautomaticway.“Drinkstoomuch.Noexercisewhatsoever.Criesallday.Sugar,goodLord,thesugar.”
“Okay,okay,”Dr.Galdonsays,stickingthelastofthepadstomychest.Iswivelandliedown.“Don’tgetherallriledup.”He’sbeeninthevicinityofoneofoursnippylittlejoustsplentyoftimes.Again,hefallssilentwhenIdon’treply.
Littledoesheknow,theBarretttwinshavestoppedfighting.
Ittakestoomucheffort,andbesides,weneedtoclingtoeachothertostayafloat.Withoutourperfect-for-usbuffertolevelusout.Iheartheupwardinflectionofabeepandweallwatchasmyheartbeginstosquiggleandbumpalongonthescreenwithalltheenergyofadyingtadpole.IhearabuzzingandforasplitsecondIthinkit’sthesoundofmeflatlining.
“Letmejustgetthis,”Dr.Galdonsays.“I’vegotanemergencycall.Justsittight.”Heleavestheroom,andIremainlyingdown,lookingatthelinesonthescreen.
Bleep-bloop.Bleep-bloop.
“Thesolicitorsentthepaperworkthrough,”Jamiesaystobreakthesilence.“Itcamebycourier.He’sgonnakillus.”Headdsthatlastpartoncheerfully,likehecan’twaitforthemomentthatTomshakeshisheadatwhatwe’vedone.
“Yeah.”Isighheavily.“Icanhearhimnow.Idon’tneedyourhelp—”
Jamiecutsin,mimickingTom.“Idon’tneedathirdofthesaleprice”
“Idon’tdeserveit,”IcontinueinTom’stone.“I’mnotaBarrett.It’syourinheritance,notmine.”Irubmyarmsandtrytonotwatchthemonitor.“Buthedoes.Andhe’sgettingit.Thankyou,Jamie.It’stheperfectwaytoshowhimthathe’simportant,andequal,andthatwelovehimforever.”
“Hedidn’tinheritathing,andIdidn’tthinktwiceaboutit.”Jamiehasbeenbeatinghimselfupoverthis.“AllIthoughtaboutwasmymoney.Nothim.Hewaspracticallyherthirdgrandchildandhegotnothing.Thisisjustmakingthingsright.”
“Canyougethimtosign,though?He’ssoproud.”
“WhenIfindhim,”Jamiesayswithcompleteconfidence,“Icangethimtodoanything.Evensignthatdocument.”
“Whenyoufindhim.”Iexhale,Jamieexhales,andtheroomfallssilent.It’simpossibletofindsomeonewho’shurtandhiding.Ishouldknow.I’vebeendoingitforyears.WhoknowswhereonearthTomcouldbe.
“OnceIgettheall-cleartotravel,I’mgoingtogolookingforhim.”
Jamiedoesn’tforbiditorsayit’sastupididea.Allhesaysis,“Wherewillyoulookfirst?”
“Notsure.I’lltaketheNorthernHemisphere—”
“AndI’lldotheSouthernHemisphere.”Jamiesmilesatme.“We’llfindhim.We’reverydeterminedindividuals.Twoblondartillerytanks,rollingout.Coveringeverysquareinch.”He’stryingtomakemesmile,butI’mdistractedbyafeeling.
I’vegotavibrationinmybones.I’vegotashiveronthesolesofmyfeetandanupwardtrickleinmyveins.Onthescreen,myheartrateispippingupward.I’mstartingtogetwarm.
“God,areyouabouttoblowup?”Jamiestandsandlooksatthescreen,makingaface.“Whatthefuckishappening?I’llgogetDr.—”
Thedooropens.
“Inhere,”thereceptionistsays,andDarcyandJamieBarretthavetwinheartattacks.
TomValeskaalwaysarrives,exactlywhenweneedhimmost.
He’sstandinginthedoorway,hisbrowcreasedandhisT-shirttoolooseonhisbody.Onefootisslidback,likehe’sreadytomakehisescape.“Thankyou,”hesayswithhisautomaticpolitenesstothereceptionist.HiseyesdartbetweenmeandJamie,fastanddesperate.He’sflushedandsweating.He’sthemostbeautifulpersonI’veeverseen.
“Hi,”Isay,tetheredinplacebymyheart.“Youcame.”
JamiejoltsoutofhissurpriseanddoeswhatIcan’t.HewalkstoTomandputshisarmsaroundhimandsqueezes.“Youcame,”Jamieechoes,andwon’tletthehugend.“You’rehere.You’reokay.”
“OfcourseI’mokay.Areyouokay,Darce?”Tom’seyesareonthemachinebesidemeandthewiresfeedingoutofmychest.He’sneverseenthisbefore,melyinghereinagown,hookeduptoamachine.It’sconfronting.Itrytopullthemoff,butthey’restucktoowell.
“I’mokay,”IsaywiththelastpuffofairIhave.Ipullmyselfuptositontheedgeofthebench.Theairisfilledwithbeeping.“Comehere.Pleasecomehere.”Myeyesarefulloftears.
JamiereleaseshimandTomstepsbetweenmyknees.Theentireworldfallsaway.Heputshisfingertipsintomyshaggyhairandtipsmyfaceup.
“What’shappenedhere?”hesaysinasympathetichuskyvoice.“Youlookterrible,beautifulDarcyBarrett.”
IpressmyfaceintohissolarplexusandIfeelhiswarmhandsonmynape.Hethreadshisfreearmthroughthewiresandcupsmyback.I’mcarryingthesensationofthissqueezearoundfortherestofmylife.
“Tom,areyouokay?”
“I’mokay,”Tomsays.“I’msorry,guys,”hetries,butwebothshushhimdesperately.Jamieisfeelingleftoutandsqueezesontotheexaminationtablebesideme.We’rejusttwolittleblondbirds,lookingupatTomlikeweneedhimtosurvive.Ohwait.Wedo.
“ButIcompletely—”hetriesagain,andweshakeourheads.“Ijusttotally—”
“Wedon’tcare,”Jamiesays,silencinghim.“Wedon’tcare.You’reback.That’severything.Pleasemakemysisterstayalive.Byanymeansnecessary.”
“Whatdoessheneedtostayalive?”
“You,”Jamiesayssimply.It’soneword,butit’sapowerfulone;Tomlooksathimsharply,likehecan’tbelievewhathe’sheard.
“You,”Iecho.“Wherethehellhaveyoubeen?”
“IthoughtI’dfuckedupbeyondforgiveness.SoIjustdrove.IguessIjustlefttown.MaybeIamlikemyfather.”Tomsighsandrubshisface.“Maybethat’swhatI’vebeenscaredofmyentirelife.ThatI’mlikehim.”
“You’renot,”Icounter.Irubhisforearm.“Isthatwhyyou’vebeentryingharderthananylivinghumanbeing,yourentirelife?”HeshrugsandIknowI’mright.
“YouleftPatty,”Jamiesayswithalittleaccusation.“Wethoughtyou’dgoneanddrivenyourgorgeousassintoacanyon.”
Tomlaughs,evenashishandssmoothoverme,calmingtheterrorthathastheheartmonitorsqueaking.“Pattyneededabeachvacation.Oldgirllookedallwornout.”
“Ditto,”Igroanashisnailsscratchingentlecirclesonthesideofmyneck.“Tom,Inearlydiedwithoutyou.Dr.Galdonisabouttoconfirmit.”
“Yeah,whereishe?I’llgogethim.”Jamiewalksoutwithafrownonhisbrow,closingthedoorbehindhim.Holycrap.Hejustleftaroomsowecouldbealone.MyheartispippingsomuchthatTomlookssidewayswithconcern.
“Settledown.”Hiswarmpalmsareonmyjaw,andhe’sdrinkinginmyface.Aperfectkissispressedontomymouth.It’ssoftandkind,likeafriend.“Idiedwithoutyou,too.”
“We’vedonesomuchwork,”Isay,tryingtobringhimbackagainforalongerkiss.“Waittillyousee.”Heevadesmylips.
“IcannottellyouhowsorryIam,”hesayswithawince.“I’llfixeverything.Iwon’tsleepuntilit’sperfect.”
“Idon’tmeanthehouse.It’sfine.Colin’sbeenthesitemanager,andI’vebeenhisdeputy.Jamiecutabunchofcostsandthebudgetisontrack.Silly,”Iadmonishhimgently,rubbinghimonthearm.“Wecanfixeverythingforyou.”
“That’sallyouguysevertrytodo,”hegroansguiltily.
“WhatImeantwasthatJamieandIhavebeenworkingonourselves.We’vebeenrenovatinginhere.”Ipickuphispalmandpressitagainstmyheart,overthemonitorpads.“Wearegoingtobeworkingonourselvesforalongtime.Tomakesurewenevermakeyourunawayagain.Wheredidyougo?”
“IthinkIpretendedyouweresittinginthepassengerseatbesideme,andIjust…drove.We’vebeenalotofplaces.Wetookthebackroads,stayedincheapmotels,andonereallyexpensiveone.Thebeach.AreallygreatdinerthatI’mtakingyoutoforreal—”Hisglowfadesout,likehe’srememberingit’simpossible.
“Takemethere.”
“Butaboutyourpassport—”
“Don’tcare.”Imanagetogetahandbehindhisneckandpullhimdown.Myheartisabouttoturninsideoutwhenwekiss,ourmouthsopen,andwetasteeachotheragain.He’ssweeterthansugar,moredeliciousthananythingI’veeverexperienced.Myeverybirthday-candlewish.
“Butit’sunforgivable,”hearguesbackasheliftshismouth,andendsonasucculentbiteofmylowerlip.“ItwastheworstlieI’veevertoldyou—”
“Whenyousaidyoucouldn’tdothisanymore?Thatwastheworstlie.Itwasalie,right?”Igaspwhenhishandscupmythroat,warmer,tighter,andthenextkissiselectric.I’msurprisedIdon’tblowuptheheartmonitor.It’stongueandbitingandexhalingandwanting.Somuchwanting.
“Youstillwantme?EventhoughI’mascrewup?”heasksasheliftshishead,andthere’sthatdark,dangerousglintthatonlyIcanrecognize.Everyoneelseseesamild-manneredsweetheart.Butrighthere,inthesemomentsbetweenus,he’smyValeska.TheoneI’vealwaysneededbesideme,everystepthatItake.
“Onehundredpercentmine.”
Heconsidersthat,thenmaybeheremembersthedesperatehugthatmybrothergaveme.Hetipshisheadtowardthedoor.“Betterlethimhaveonepercentofme.”Hesmiles,andIlaugh.
“Okay.Ninety-ninepercentmine.That’sgotaniceringtoit.NeversaythatI’mnotopentonegotiation.Now.I’mgoingtotellyouexactlyhowmuchIloveyou.”
“Ialreadyknowhowmuch.”
Ishakemyhead.“Youcan’tknow.Ihaven’ttoldyou.”
“Youhavealwaysmademefeelit.Always.”Hiseyesburnwithintensity.“It’showIcanwatchyousmileatgood-lookingdeliverydrivers.Nostrangerisgoingtotalktoyoufortwominutesandtakeyouawayfromme.Youwouldn’tallowit.”
He’snotindulginghimselfinmalearrogantbullshit.He’sdoingwhathedoesbest:He’stellingthetruth.
Hekeepsgoing.“It’swhyyou’vetreatedmealltheseyearslikeprotectingmeisyourjob.Andnooneelsehasevertried,bytheway.EveryoneelsethinksI’mcompletelyfine,butyou’vealwaysknownthatIneedyou,ineveryway.You’vefeltit.”
Inod,mybreathstuckinmythroat.
“You’veneverdatedanyoneyoucouldlove,becauseyoudidn’twantanythingtothreatenhowyoufeelforme.YouwerealwaysaloneattheChristmastable,lookingatmeandMegan,witheyeslikeyouwerewaitingformetogetittogetherandrealize.Sittingoutsidealoneonthebackstairs,lookingupatthestars,waitingonme.”
He’stouchingmenow,slowandeasy,likeI’mananimalhecouldstartle.“You’veavoidedmeforyearsandtraveled,becauseitwastoomuchforyou.You’rescaredtodeathbecauseapersonlikeyouonlylovesonce.Andit’sme.”
Hiswordsshockthroughme.Hishandsareonmywaistandhesqueezestopromptananswer.“AmIright?”
“Ofcourseyouare.Nowkissme.”Thisoneisasweet,gentlething,untilIruinitwiththeslideofmytongue.Hegrumblesawarninginthebackofhisthroat.Mmm,Imissedthatalphabass.
Hebreaksusapart.“InevertoldyouhowmuchIloveyou.HowdoyouthinkIfeel?Tellme.”
Ihavenoexperiencewitharticulatingfeelings,letaloneanythingthisaliveandprimal,butIhavetotry.ThismustbehowLorettafeltwhensheturnedoverthefirsttarotcard.Useyourintuition,she’dinstruct.Feelthetruth.Ipressmypalmagainsthisheartandhisfingersslideintomyhair.
“YousleptinabunkbedinJamie’sroom.That’soneofthewaysyou’vehadtoworkhardforme.Puttingupwithmybrother,justtosleepawallawayfrommeandputyourtoothbrushnexttomine.”
Henodswithasmileandamemoryinhiseyes.
“Yousleeponthegrassoutsidemywindowjusttobeclosetome.”
“More.”
“WhenwehugatChristmastimeyoubreathemein,andyouholditin.Whateveritisyoulikeonmyskin,it’sdeepinthecavemanbitofyourbrain.”
Ihavenoideawherethisweirdtruthiscomingfrom,butI’mright.HedropshisheaddownandonmyshoulderIfeelthepullofairintohisnostrils.
“Evenmore.”Hesaysitasheexhales.Bothofusaregettingoverheated.Idon’tevenhavetosearchmyselftoknowwhattosay.Thesewordshavebeenonthetipofmytongueforalifetime.
“Anotherman’sdiamondonmyhandisyourworstnightmare,andforyearsyou’vebeenjoltingawakeoverit.”Ifeelatremorrunthroughhisbody.NowIhavetosaythereallyhardthing.
“Puttingadiamondonanotherwomanmadeyousicktoyourstomach.Butlikeaniceguyyoucouldn’tadmitittoyourself,letaloneher,untilthewhitelacestartedcreepinginattheedgesandyousawmyinsanely-in-loveparentstogether.”
“Evenmorethanthat.”
“You’dkillforme.You’ddigagraveforme.”
Helaughs.“Yeah.Nowyou’regettingclose.”Wearekissingwhenthedooropensagain.
“Alrighty,”Dr.Galdonsaysashewalksin,andthencoughswhenwebreakapart.“Let’stakealookatyou,MissBarrett.”HeshakeshandswithTomandintroduceshimself.TomtakesaseatnexttoJamie.I’veneverseenanythingmorelovely;mytwofavoritehumanbeingssidebyside,andtheyloveme.
“Lookather,”Jamieremarks,jabbinganelbowatTom.“Gotyourcolorbackalready,Darce.”
“Iwasjustabouttoremarkonthat,”Dr.Galdonsayswithalaugh.Heconsultsthemonitor.“That’sthefastest-healingbrokenheartI’veeverseen.Onehundredpercentimprovementonhowitwasfiveminutesago.”Hissmilefadesashewritessomethingdownonmychart.“Butwedoneedtotalkaboutyourmedication,andweneedtodoanECG.ThereareirregularitiesherethatIhaven’tseenbefore.”
“It’sokay,justrelax,”TomtellsmeandJamiewhenwebothtightenup.It’sinthattonewecanneverresist.“We’llgetyoufixedup,Darce.Goodasnew.We’vegotacruisetogoonwhenwe’reeighty,”heexplainstothedoctor.“Weneedherthereforit.”
“Ithinkthatcanbearranged,”Dr.Galdonsayswithalaugh.“Aslongasshe’sgotsomeonelookingafterheruntilthen.”
“Shewill,”JamieandTomsayinunison.Justliketwins.
I’msoluckythattheroomfillswithit.Pip-pip-pip,myheartbeatslikeI’mgoingtoliveforever.Ineeditto.Chapter21
IaminmyownplaceofZen:MypassportisinmyhandandIamleavingthecountry.
Ilovethismoment—standingadriftinaseaofstrangers,mockingtheminmymindfortheirpashminasandfull-sizedpillows.Dotheythinktherearenopillowswherethey’regoing?Somepeopletravelliketheyhonestlybelievethey’releavingplanetEarth.
Marsdoesn’tsellsocksortoothpaste.
Icatchmyself;I’mjudgingpeopleandbeingnasty.That’snotthepersonIwanttobe.Imakemyselflosethebiggrayglareandtheforeheadwrinkle.
Ileanonthepillarbesidethefloor-to-ceilingwindowsandtrytoblockoutthenoise.Everywhere,moreandmoregroupsarefindingeachother,crowingwithexcitement,takingphotostogetherbeforedeparture.Agroupofyoungguys,dressedinboardshorts,straggleovertothewindowtolookoutside.Oneofthemlooksoveratmeandraiseshiseyebrowsinahey.
Icheckmywatch.Soonit’llbetimetoboard.
“Hey,”Tomsays,andwhenIlookupathimmyheartunfurls.There’snobetterwordforit.It’slikeatime-lapsephotoofaroseopeningwheneverIthinkabouthowheismine.So,allthetime.He’sgotbottlesofwaterforus.They’recoldagainstthesmallofmybackashewrapshisarmsaroundme,akneenudgingbetweenmythighs.Hegivesthegroupofboysnearbyadarklook,thenlaughsathimself.
“I’mbeingValeskaagain,aren’tI.”Gettingagriponhimself,heputsthewaterbottlesinhisbackpack.
“Everydayofyourlife.Everythingokay?Youseemnervous.”ItughisT-shirtstraighteronhistorso.Anelderlywomannearbythinkstoherself,Luckygirl.That’stheeffectthisfaceandbodyhave.It’ssomethingyoucan’targuewith.I’mgoingtofindhimhotwhenI’meightyyearsold.
“I’mfine,”Tomsays,buthe’sjittery.“Ijusthadasurpriseforyou,butitmightnotworkout.”Hecheckshiswatchrobotically.
“Hey,Idon’tneedasurprise.”Iputmyarmaroundhiswaist.“You’reokay.”Isuccumbtoheadysmugnessashedropshisheadandputshisbrowtomine.Isthereanythingmoreobnoxiousthanblissed-out-in-lovepeople?Don’tcare.
Iputakissonhismouthandhishandtightens,lowdownonmyback.Then,becausewe’reagainstapillar,heabandonshisgood-boysideandtakesmybuttinonehandandsqueezesuntilIsqueakupontiptoes.
He’sdistractingme.Ican’tworkoutwhyhe’sflustered.
Itrytokeepmyfocusashekissesundermyear.“Thekitchenwasdeliveredthismorning.”IamremotelysupervisingTom’steamastheyrenovateJamie’sbeachsideinvestment,justdowntheroadfromMomandDad.“Jamie’ssuchahard-ass,insistingonanoutdoorcatrun.”
“Didn’tItellyou?Igothimtoagreethatonecatcanbeinsideatatime.”Tomlaughsupattheceilingandhishandstugmeeventighteragainsthisbody.
Wewillalways,alwaysbelikethis.Getinme.
“Wow.That’sahugeconcession.Beproud.”Irunmyhanduphisback,admiringthemuscle.“Bythetimewe’rehome,you’regoingtobemovingherintothelasthouseyoueverhaveto.”JamiegaveMrs.Valeskaanopen-endedlease.IfTomwantedtobuyit,hecould.“We’reallorganized.Nothinglefttostressabout.”
“Andyou’reorganized.”Tomreturnstome.“Yougotyoureditsin.Anyword?”
“Myagentsaidthatthey’retryingtodecidewhichimagewillbeonthecover.”Myunexpectedbookbabycamekickingandscreamingintomylifeafewmonthsago.Turnsout,myphotographsweregood.Betterthangood.Myfirstphotographicartbook,Devil’sEnd,isdueoutinaboutsixmonths.Plentyoftimeformetostartmynextsubmission,TheHouseofDestiny,chroniclingtheevolutionofLoretta’scottage.Allthoselittlephotosofmossybricksandwallpapercracksactuallyamountedtosomethingbeautiful,anditmeansmychildhoodmemoriescanliveon.Iwanttogivethisbooktomyparentsontheirweddinganniversary.Whoknewhavingagoalcouldkeepmyheartbeatingsowell?Thenewmedicationdoesn’thurteither.IsworetoDr.GaldonthatI’dcareformyheartfromnowon.
Tomnudgesmeuntilthepillarchillstheskinbetweenmyshoulderblades,andbendstokissme.Ifeelpeoplestaring.I’mgettingusedtoitbynow.We’rejustsofuckinghot,itmakesmelaugh.Takealook,everyone.LookwhatIhave.Lookwhat’sallmine.
Webreakapartjustasit’sgettingsociallyinappropriate.“Allthesepeoplearesoold,”Tomsaysinbetweenbreaths.“Wedon’twanttogiveanyofthemheartattacks.”
Dozensofeyesavertfromusaswefacethewaitingcrowds.Theolderwomen,thosewithwhitehairandwalkingsticks,don’tevenbotherlookingawayfromus.
“Theyreallyareold,”Iagree.IwonderifTom’scheckedhisbankaccountyet.I’mgettingthejitters,too.Ihatehavingsecretsfromhim,butthisonewastoomuchtoresist,andmybrotherwasfartooclever.
“What’dyouexpect,choosingatriplikethis?”
Iremembersomething.“Igotyouapresent.Somethingamazingtotoastthehousesale.”Idigaroundinmybackpack.“Ican’teventellyouhowhardIfoughtforthis.Someassholewastryingtooutbidme,rightdowntothelastsecond.”Itugoutthebottleandpresentittohim.
“YougotmeabottleofKwench.”Helaughsandstudiesthelabel.
“It’sworthmorethanabottleofCristalchampagne.Ifit’snotfizzy,I’mgoingtobefurious.”
“YouknowIlovedKwenchbecauseitwasthedrinkyourparentsgaveme,thefirstnightIhaddinneratyourplace?Ihopeitwasn’ttooexpensive.”
“I’mrichnow,remember?”
Helaughsatthecarelessnessinmytone.“It’sthesettlementtoday,right?Yourmoneyshouldbethrough.Goodtiming.”Hemeansbeforeourtrip.
“Yeah.”We’redistractedforasecondbyanoverheadannouncement.Boardingwillbesoon.Itmakeshimmorenervous,hishandssqueezing.What’styinghimupinknots?
Herefocusesonme.He’sgoodatthat,makingmefeelliketheonlyone.“Sadaboutthesale?”
“No.Itwasperfect.Istillcan’tbelievethehighestbidderwasafamilywithtwins.ItwasourlastsignfromLoretta.Youdidanamazingjobonthefinalfitout.Itturnedout…”Idon’tusethewordperfectanymore.“Sowell.I’mproudofyou.Iknowitbothersyouthatyouweren’tthereforthefirstbit.Butyou’vegotalifetimeofhousesaheadofyou.”Ithumbthroughmybankaccountapp.Mybig,incrediblegiftoffreedomfromLorettahascleared.Somuchmoney.MorethanIcaneverpossiblydeserve.
“It’sgonein.”Iholdituptoshowhim.
Tomlooksattheamountinmyaccount,andlikeIknewhewould,hisbrowfurrows.“That’snotright.”
“Yeah,itis.Hasyoursgonein?”Ikeepmyfacecompletelyneutralashetakesouthisownphoneandlogsintohisaccount.ThenIseehisface.Heholdshisphonenexttomine;wehavematchingdeposits.Downtothecent.
“Whatdidyoudo?”hestarts,butIjustlaughandkisshim.
“Youreallygottareadthethingsyousign,”Ipointouthelpfully.“That’simportantasabusinessowner.”
“No,Darce,”hegroans.“Thisisn’tright.”
“Itisn’tonlyright.”Idecidetomakeanexceptiontomyruleandusethatforbiddenword.“It’sperfect.It’sabigsliceofcake,cutintothreeportions.Youdeserveit.You’refamily.You’remyfamily.”
“Youdon’tknowwhatthismeans,”hegroans,puttingahandonhisbrow.Idoknowwhatitmeans.ItmeansthatTomValeskadoesn’thavetostruggleandgrindanymore;hismomtakencareofandhecanbeselectiveonwhatheflipsnext.ItmeansthatTomhasalifetimeofpossibilities,thekindthattheBarretttwinshaveenjoyedsoeffortlessly.
He’sjustgettingreadytoscoldmewhenhe’sdistracted.“Ohwait,here’syoursurprisecomingnow.Butseriously,Darce.I’mmad.”
Ifollowhiseyelineasweseesomeoneforcingtheirwaythroughthecrowd.Forasecond,myeyesplaytricks.IlookupatTomwithafrown.
Heexplainsnervously.“Igotyousomething.Asurprise.Twosurprises.I’mnotsureifyou’regoingtobehappyaboutoneofthem.”
Iseewhathemeans.
Throughthecrowd,Jamieisweavinghissuitcase.“Excuseme,”hesaysloudlytoachattingcouple,andtheyjumpapartinsurprise.Plowingthroughtous,hescreechestoastopandlooksathiswatch.“Damntaxidriverhadabsolutelynoidea.”Helooksatmelikehe’safraid.ThenhelooksbackatTom,downtothebottleofKwenchinhishandandbooms,“Darcy,itwasyoubiddingagainstme?”
“Itwasyou?Christ,Jamie,IpaidthroughthenoseforthatdamnbottleofKwench.”Istarttolaugh.“Whatthehellareyoudoinghere?”
“Wejustthoughtitwouldbefuntotakethecruisetogetherwhenwe’reunderthirty,insteadofeighty,”Tomsays.Icanhearthenoteofuncertaintyinhisvoice.Inallofournakedbedtimewhisperingsandtripplanning,itwasalwaysonlyus.
Us,kissinginthesunonloungechairs,theoceanstretchingaroundustouninterruptedhorizons.Us,face-firstinthebuffet.Alone.
“Iwillnotgetinyourway.I’vegotmyowncabin,obviously.”Jamiegrimacesatusbothasthethoughtpassesthroughhishead.“Ifyouguyswanttoliearoundsmooching,I’llsitbymyself.Actually,I’llalwayssitbymyself.Youwon’tevenseeme—”
HestopstalkingwhenIputmyarmsaroundhimandhug.
Ifeelthetensionfalloutofhim.Mybrother?He’shalfofme.AndIloveTomsomuchforinvitingmytwintocomewithus.It’stheonlywaytoshowhimhe’snotcutoutofourlivesandthathewillalwaysbewithus,floatinginapoollikewhenwewerekids.
“Thanks,Darce,”Jamiesaysabovemyhead,andIfeelhisemotion.Nothinghastochange.Noonehastoloseanyone.Thenheruinsthemomentlikeonlyhecan.
“Youwouldn’tbelievehowmuchmycleanerischargingtohousesitmyapartmentandDiana.It’sextortion.DidyouknowthatcatisawakebetweentwoandfourA.Meverymorning?She’skillingme.Maybemytenantcanownsevencats.Bytheway,takealookatthis.”Jamieholdsuphisphone.MomhassentapictureofPatty,sunbathingonabeachtowel.It’sniceshe’sgettingherownvacation.
Iwon’tletJamieoffthehook.“Nope.Dianaisyours.Everyevilgeniusneedsafluffycattostroke.”Igivehimafinalsqueezeandreleasehim.WhenIlookup,mybrotherislookingatthecrowd.
“Wait,isn’tthat—”
“MysecondsurpriseforDarcy.”Tomtucksmyhairbehindmyear.
“Holycrap,”Jamielaughs.
Throughthecrowd,Iseemysecondgift.It’sTruly,andshe’sgotasuitcasebigenoughtostuffadeadbodyinto.Shehasheart-shapedsunglassesontopofherhead.Shecan’tgetthroughthisthrongofpeople.Shestandsontiptoe,waves,andmakesafrustratedface.
“Here’sthegirlwho’sgonnadrinkwhiskeywithyoubeforelunch,”Jamiesays.Hiseyesarethatbrightcornflowerbluethatbelieshisexcitementandpleasure.IthinkofhimdraggingTrulypastajewelrystore.Ican’tbelieveI’madmittingit,butIthinkJamiewillgethiswayoneday.
“Tom.”Iwanttocry.“Tooperfect.”
JamietransfersmeintoTom’sarms.“I’llhelpher.”Hewalksthroughthecrowd,liketheblondartillerytankthatheis,andextricateshersuitcasehandlefromhergrip.Shetakesitback.TheyargueandJamiebeginstotrytocharmherintoabettermood.Hisfingertiptoucheshersunglasses.Hishandcupsherelbowandsqueezes.Shelaughsoutloud,unwilling,andwhenthemusicthey’repipingthroughthecruiseshipterminalchanges,Jamiebeginstodance,sillyandmock-sexy.
There’schemistryoozingoutoftheminpinkclouds,andnowTomandIaren’ttheonlyhotcouplethatpeoplecan’ttaketheireyesoff.
Tom’sgentlyamused.“Ireallyamasmartguy.”
JamieandTrulyassemblenexttous,andagainIfeelalittlebitoftheirvulnerabilityastheybothstareatTom’sarmsaroundme.Theyfeellikethey’reintruding.
“Mybestgirlishere.”IleanintoTruly.“How’sHollyworkingoutforyou?”Ourjointresignationstothebarwassuchahigh-fivemoment.HollyandIwalkedoutofthatplacesidebyside,boughtacakeandateitonthehoodofmycar.
“She’sfabulous.”Trulysayswithakissonmycheek.“Ioweyoubig-time.Remindmetoshowyoumygarmenttechpackslater.I’mgettingcloser.”Herdreamofupscalingherbusinessissoclosewecantasteit.
“Whenthathappensforyou,I’llbeabletodiehappy.”Ismileather.
“Youcanlivehappy,”Tomcorrectsme.“Hey,didyoubringthatthingIaskedyoufor,Jamie?”
Mybrotheristakenaback.“Youwanttodothathere?”
“Nomoresecretsfromthispointforward.”Tomtakesoutavelvetjewelryboxandmyheartdropsoutofmybody.ButbeforeIcanprocessit,Jamiedoesthesame.Theyswapboxes.IrecognizetheonethatisnowinTom’shand.
“Isthat—”It’sLoretta’ssapphire.Iknowit.Thepatinaontheoldleatherboxisasfamiliartomeastheskinonmyhands.“Tom,gimmeit.”Ijumpforitbuthe’sholdingitabovehishead,andhe’ssix-six,stretchedupforever.
“Youswapped,forMegan’sring?Oh,pretty.”TrulylooksintheboxJamiehassnappedopentoshowher.“Butthat’stackyofyou,”sheamends.
“Tacky?How?Igotagooddealonthis,”Jamieprotests.“Theclarityandcutonthisarephenomenal.Tom’sgotgoodtaste,”hefinisheswithhisusuallackoftact.
“Butthisbelongedtosomeoneelse,andshelovedit,”Trulychideshimsoftly.“Whoeveryoumarryonedaywillhavesomeoneelse’sringonherhand.”
“That’snotapracticalwayoflookingatit,”Jamiearguesback.“Darce,stopjumping.”HestuffsMegan’sringinhispocket.“Nowyou’vemademethink,”hesaystoTruly,grouchy.“Tom,maybeIwanttoswapback.”
“Sorry,adeal’sadeal.”Tomiscompletelyunrepentant.He’scrowdedmeagainstthepillaragain.Behindmyeyes,everytimeIblink,Iseesapphires.Blacksapphires.Refracting,darkandmysteriousandbrilliant.Iwantthem.Ineedthem.
IwantthenameValeskaonmesobadIcouldscream,andIthinkheknowsitfromthewayhe’slookingatme.
“Oh,that’sus,”Jamiesaysasboardingisannounced.“Let’sgoandgetelderly.”HegathersupTruly’sbagandbeginstoherdhertowardthegangway.
“Iwantit.”ItouchmyfingerstothesquarelumpinTom’spocket.
“Iknow.That’swhyIdidadealwiththedevil.”Hiseyesshineinamusementaspeoplebegintostreampastus.Thesoundofathousandsuitcasewheelsisdeafening.“Now,areyousureyouwanttoliveinatentwithmewhenwegetback?”
“Verysure.I’mdeputysitemanager,afterall.Ineedtobeonhand.”
Hestillcan’tconceiveofit.Tohim,princessesdon’tsleepontheground.“Becausethemomentwefindahousethatyouwanttokeep,I’llmakeityourhome.Everythingyouwantittobe.It’llhaveaphotographystudio,and—”
“Comeon,guys,youcanmakeoutontheboat!”Jamieturnsandshoutsatus.“We’regoing.”
“Iwantit,”Irepeat.Imeanthehouse,thering,andhim.Thefuture.“IloveyouandIwantit.”
Tomleansdowntokissmypout.“Haveyouearnedit?”
Ifalter.Ishakemyheadautomatically.“HowcanIpossiblyearnyou?”
Heremovesmytremorofdoubtasonlyhecan.“Youearnmedaily.Comeon.YouknowIgiveyoueverythingyouwant.Justrelax.LetmespoilDarcyBarrettalittle,fortherestofherlife.Letmegetatasteofthatfeeling.”
AllIcansayis,ittastessweet.Acknowledgments
Thankyoutothefollowingpeoplefornotbludgeoningmetodeathduringtheprocessofwritingthisbook.
Myhusband,Roland,alwaysrespondedYoucanwhenIwailedIcan’t.Thanksforbeingrightandforsupportingmewhenwritingunexpectedlychangedmylife.Mymother,Sue,ismynumberonefan.Mypug,Delia,ismysecondbiggestfan.
TaylorHaggertyfromRootLiteraryismyagentandmylighthouseacrossthesea.Shehascheeredmeonwithunfailingpositivity.HarperCollinshasbeensopatientwithmeasIfoundmyfeetagainaftertheunexpectedsuccessofmydebut.CarrieFeronismyeditorandhercalmconfidenceinmehasmeanttheworld.
Thankyoutomyfriends,butthesetwoinparticular:TinaGephartmessagedmeeveryafternoontoseeifIwashavingagoodwritingday.Spoiler:Iusuallywasn’t,butTinawouldstillcheckinthenextday.Thankyouforbeingafriendandmentor.ThankyoutoChristinaHobbsforthatlongSkypecall.Ipickedmyselfupofftheflooronelasttime,andnowIgettowritethis.
TheFlamethrowersareagroupofwonderfulreaderswhofoundTheHatingGameandlovedthehelloutofit.Iwrotethisbookforallofyou.P.S.Insights,Interviews&More…*
AbouttheAuthor
MeetSallyThorne
AbouttheBook
BehindtheBookEssay
ReadOn
99PercentMineEpilogue:1PercentMore
TheHatingGameEpilogueAbouttheAuthorMeetSallyThorne
SALLYTHORNEistheUSATodaybestsellingauthorofTheHatingGame.Shespendsherdaysclimbingintofictionalworldsofherowncreation.ShelivesinCanberra,Australia,withherhusbandinahousefilledwithvintagetoys,toomanycushions,ahaunteddollhouse,andtheworld’ssweetestpug.
Discovergreatauthors,exclusiveoffers,andmoreathc.comAbouttheBookBehindtheBookEssay
Theysayifyoustareintotheabysstoolong,theabyssstaresintoyou.Well,I’mheretotellyouthattheabyssthey’retalkingaboutisablankMicrosoftWorddocument.
WhenIwrotemyfirstbook,TheHatingGame,Ididn’tevenknowIwaswritingabook.Haha,Ithought,grinningtomyselfasItappedawaywheneverIfeltlikeit.Howenjoyable,howdroll!HowdidIdoit?Whoknows,butit’sprintedwithacutecover!Whatwasnext?.
IopenedanewdocumentandIstared
Pictureme,proppedupinbedlikeBethMarchfromLittleWomen,slowlyfadingawayfromSecondBookSyndrome.Myexpertnursesduringthiscrisisspoon-fedmebroth,andassuredmeitwasaverycommondisorderfornewauthorsandIwouldsurvive.Ididn’tbelievethemandhonestlythoughtIwasagoner.Idoubtedmycreativity,talent,andskillsointenselythatInearlygaveuproughlyninety-ninetimes.
ButIlovedmybooktitle.Itgavemegoosebumpsonmyforearms.99PercentMine.I’dsayittomyselfuntilitbecameamantrasynonymouswithDon’tgiveup.TheoutsideworldfadedawayandIbegantolaughatmyselfagain,asItyped.Haha,howdroll.
IlearnedaveryhardlessonthatI’msharingwithyounow.Thatimportant,impossiblethingthatyouhavenearlygivenuponninety-ninetimes?Finishit.Whetherit’sasuccessorafailure,noonecantakeyourTheEndprizeawayfromyou.Finishingisthemostimportantthingthereis.It’sproofofhowhardyoutried.Thisbookisprintedwithenvironmentallyfriendlytear-basedinkthatIcriedintoavat,butIwouldn’tchangeit.
Thefirsttimearound,IwasastonishedtorealizethatI’dwrittenabook
Thissecondtimearound,IknowIwroteabook.Iwasthereforeverysingleuglygrittymomentofit.Whetherit’sgoingtobeasuccessornotisbesidethepoint.Ifinishedsomethingthatwasimpossiblyhardforme.
Iwouldnowliketothankeveryonewhoaskedmehowtheycouldreadmorebyme.Readerseagerlysearchedformybackcatalog,andthenwerestumpedtofindoutTheHatingGamewasallshewrote.Tothankthemforwaitingforsolong,Iamsohappytoincludetwoadditionalpieceshere.
Thefirstisaglimpseintothehappily-ever-afterofTomandDarcy.I’vecalledthispiece“1PercentMore.”Ireallyfeltthatafteralifetimeoflovingeachother,theydeservedthisextramoment.
Andthesecond—containingmorespoilersthanIcancount—istheshortepilogueIwroteforTheHatingGame.ThisisthenumberonethingI’maskedfor,overandoveragain:more.Therehasalwaysbeenmore.IwroteanepilogueinmyoriginaldraftofthebookandI’vealwaysknownhowthingsturnedout.Atthetimeofpublication,wedecidedtoendthebookwherewedidsothatthereadercouldimaginetheirownending.Iamhappytonowsharethisextralittlesnippetwithyou.
It’sonelastpeekintothatworldbeforeIsaygoodbyetoit.LucyandJoshchangedmylife,andIamverygratefultoeveryonewholovedthem.ReadOn99PercentMineEpilogue:1PercentMore
Igetdressedaloneinthedawnlight.Myshortsfromyesterdayaren’ttoodirty,soItugthemon,alongwithmyValeskaBuildingServicesshirt.It’ssosplatteredwithpaintandgroutthatit’sclosetoretirement.Inthetightconfinesofthetent,Iworkmybootsontomyfeet,pullmyhairbackintoashortponytail,andwalkthroughapuffofperfume.
Thesedays,Isleeplikethedead.IwakelikeIwanttoliveforever.
We’reinaniceneighborhoodatthemoment.Asalways,wehavetheworsthouseonthebeststreet.Igothroughtheemptymasterbedroomtomyfavoritebathroom.It’sgottobethebestoneTom’severdone.Thelightinghechosemakesmelovehimmore;it’ssoflatteringmyskinlooksalmostiridescent.I’vegotcandy-pinkcheeksandmylipsarekissstained.AnightwithTomValeskaisthekindofcosmeticthatcan’tbebottled.
I’mmorebeautifulthanI’veeverbeeninmylife.IknowitbecauseTomtellsme,andwhereverIgo,peoplefallinlovewithme.Iwalkaroundinacloudofsexandhappiness.I’vegotagratefulsqueeze-acheinmypelvisandalightwithin.EvenColinhastoldmeIglow.
EveryseconddeliveryguyasksmeifI’mfreetonight.Ilaughandsay,Noway,areyoukidding?I’mbusytonight.Tomoverhearsandsmilestohimself.Thenlaterhe’llsayinmyearsomethinglike,DB,I’mplanningonbeingextremelybusytonight.Thenhe’llwalkoff,hisphonewillvibrateinmypocket,andI’lldobattlewithmyactiveimagination.TheguysarecheekywhentheygrinatTomastheypackupintheafternoon.
Haveagoodnight,boss.
We’repotenttobearound.EveryonecansmellthepheromonesmixingintothechlorineonTom’sskin—histestosterone,passion,andobsession.Nomatterwhereweare,whatnewcrewsareputtogetherforourhouses,Tomreclaimsmeashisincalmandsubtleways.Inreturn,I’mshameless,pushinghimagainstwallswheneverIhaveachance.Wefogupbuildingsiteswithoutevenlookingateachother.
BecauseofthiscloudI’menvelopedin,I’minspired.Everything’sbeautiful.Mycamerahasearnedmeanicknamewiththeguys—thePaparazzi.TomtoldthematoneofourpizzaFridaysthatIhaven’tbeenlikethissinceIwassixteen,andit’strue.I’minlovewithTom,butI’malsobackinlovewithmycamera,andit’sforeverthistime.
Tomsubmitstomyobsessionwithhisfaceandasthesungoesdownwesit,kneetoknee,inthegardenofwhateverhousewelivebehind.IusemyfavoritelensandItakephotosofhisperfectface.Hiseyeschangewitheveryblink.Thesephotosaremyfavorites,andIshoothimcompulsively.
Hewantsme.Heneedsme.Hebreathesforme.Icaptureitall.
Ilookaroundthebathroom.It’shonestlyperfect.Whoeverbuysthisplacewilllovethefittingshechose.IthinkIadmiredthissinkatashowroominanoffhandway—Howgorgeousisthis?ThenthenextthingIknow,it’sbeinginstalled.Ibuffmyfingerprintsoffthefaucet.Iswear,witheachhouse,Tomoutdoeshimself.Iknowwhathe’sdoing.He’stryingtofindmydreamcombinationofpaint,fittings,flooring,andaddress.
Ugh,thelightinginhereissodamngood.Ikindofhatewhoeverbuysthishouse.
There’samugthatsays#1ASSHOLEonthemarblekitchencounter,andit’ssteaming.Tom’slaptopisbesidethemugandIbegintogothroughouremails.There’sonefromashippingcompanyweuse.
“They’reclaimingthefrontwindowpaneloninsurance,”Isay,notraisingmyvoice.Ican’tseehim,buthe’sgottobeclosebybecausePattyishere,asleepinasunbeam.She’salwayswithinafewfeetofhim.“Apparentlyitwasbrokenbeforeitgotoutofthestate.”
“Mmm-hmm.”He’snotpleased,whereverheis.“Canyoucallthesupplierand—”
“Makesomeoneapologizeprofuselyandgiveusapartialcreditonournextorder?Alreadydidit.”Isipmycoffee.
“Damn,you’regood.What’sthedealwiththefloorsanding?IthoughtitwashappeningonFriday.”
“Itis,butunlessIdoitbeforeIgotothestudio,we’dbebetteroffrentingthesanderonMonday.Idon’tthinkIcansandanentirehouseinonemorning.UnlesswegetAlextohelp.”
“He’son—”.
“Oh,yeah.”We’reincreasinglyusingshorthandwitheachother.AlexisgoingtobeupontheroofinstallingthesolarpanelsonFriday.He’sbeenpromotedfromgeneralshitkicker.Itrytorearrangetheremainingteaminmyhead,butnothingworks.
I’doffertoreschedulemystudiotime,butIknowTomwon’thearofit.Besides,I’vegotareallyinterestingelderlyladysittingforaportraitwithme.She’satarotreaderthatItrackeddownwithanoldaddressbookofmygrandmother’s.That’sanotherseriesI’mworkingon:allportraitsoffortune-tellers.Thisyear,I’mgoingtoenterthesameportraitcompetitionIwonallthoseyearsago.IwanttoseeifIcanre-peakmycareer.
“Thefloorsaren’tgoinganywhere,”TomsayslikeheknowswhatI’mthinking.“Theycanwaittogetsanded.Youstillwanttheoriginalfloors,right?”
“Yeah,Ilovethem.”Idon’tknowwhatthesefloorboardsare,buttheyfeeljustrightwhenIwalkwithbarefeet.Woodfromamagicforest.
Iopenthekitchencabinetnearestmeafewtimes—silent,sturdy,andimpossibletoripoffintheheatofpassion.Thehandlefitsjustrightinmyfingers.I’mhavingaweirdsenseofdéjàvu;thishouseismoreperfectthananyotherwe’vedone.
“Howarewegoingtotopthis?There’snowaywecandobetterthanthisplace.”Hedoesn’treplybutIfeelhispleasureatthiscommenthumthroughthewall.
Isipmycoffeeandchangeafewpricesfromsuppliersinourmasterspreadsheet.It’ssadthatIgetatinyadrenalinerusheverytimeapricecomesdown.Imustbemybrother’ssisterafterall.It’safurtherrushtoknowthatIamgoodatthis.So,somuchbetterthanmytwinwouldbe.
Ihitsave.“Canyoubelievethatguygavemesuchagooddiscountonthesandstonepavers?”
“Yes,Ican,actually,”Tomsays,withanedgetoitthatmakesmegoinsearchofhim.Iwalkintothelivingroomandfindhimatthetopofaladder.He’sgotascrewdriverinonehandandthebaseoftheuglylightfittingintheother,whichhedropsonthefloor.It’sdestinedforthetrash.“Youwereverycharming.”
Itakeanothermouthfulofcoffee.IknowIshouldn’t,butIlovethisgame.“I’macharminggal.”
“Heprobablywouldhavegiventhemtoyouforfree,ifI’dgivenyouanotherfiveminutes.”Hegivesmeaglancethatisequalpartsamusementandirritationbeforestretchinguptopresshisthumbtothecrumblingscrewholesintheceiling.He’llpatchandsandthem.Youwon’tbelieveitnow,butaftersomewhitepaintit’sgoingtobeaperfectceiling.
“Ithinkyougetoffonflirtingwithguysinfrontofme,”headdsoffhand.
Iletmyeyesdriftuphisbody.IknowwhatIgetoffon.I’veseenhimstandoneveryrungofthatladderbutitwillalwaysaffectmethesameway:ahotfeelinginmythroatandawateryweaknessinmythighs.Whenhestretchesup,IcanseeasliverofthewaistbandofhisUnderswears.Thatsliverisn’tenough.
Amemoryfromlastnightdropsthroughmybodylikeacoin.Ripplesspreadthroughmystomach,shimmeringdown.
“Ihadagoodtimelastnight.”Wedidn’tdoanythingoutoftheordinary.Weatedinner,wipedthemarblecountertops,unzippedourtent,andtookeachother’sclothesoff.
Heburstsoutlaughingatthesincerityinmyvoice.“Iknow.Iwasthere.”He’sgoingblackeyedashelooksdownatme.Iwonderwhatmemoryiscausingthat.Isthesorenessinmymusclesfromlastnightorthenightbefore?It’salljustanendlesschainofnights,blurringtogetherinthelushestwaypossible.
Ishrug.“Youweredefinitelythere,underme.Onme.Behindme.That’swhyyoudon’thavetobejealousofguyswhosellpavers.”
“Jealous?”There’sadeeptimbretohisvoicethatsomethinginsidemealwaysrespondsto.Thatrippleinsidejustgetsdeeper.I’mintrouble—orinluck.Let’sseewhich.Icheckmywatch.Thecrewisduesoon.
Hestepsdowntothefloor,picksmeupbymywaist,andeasesmebackuntilmyfeetsteadyuponthebottomrungofthestepladder.Itgetsmeclosertohismouthlevel.Ifeelthecarehetakeswithme,evenashiseyesturnalittledangerous.“YouthinkI’mjealous?DB,they’realljealousofme.”
Hetakesmyhand,twistsmysapphireengagementringstraight,andputshislipsonmine.
Myworldturnsgold.
Throughoutmylife,Tom’sbeenrighttherewhenI’veneededhim,hiseyesnarrowedinearnestthoughtasheassesseshowtohelpme.Translatethattooursexlife.I’veneverbeenabletotestmyphysicallimitswithanotherman,butthisoneknowsme,AtoZ.Rightnow,there’sascrewdriverinhisfistandIfeelitagainstmyback.Itmakesmesmile.
He’sthehottestkindofcapable.
Sometimes,whenhe’sespeciallyinventive,myheartcannotkeepup.He’lleaseoffuntilourmovementsarelanguid,andhe’llholdmetogetheruntilmysystemrebootsandwecanresume.Andweresumeplenty.Henearlykillsmeandthat’sokay.Isurvive.
SometimesInearlykillhim.That’smyfavoritethingtodo.
Hebreaksourlipsaparttoask,“Whenarewegettingyourbedoutofstorage?”
Ishrugandinresponsehebitesdownonmybottomlipuntilhefeelstheshivershakemybones.It’salittlereprimandfordraggingmyheelsonthisdecision.
Wetwistanotherscrewintothislust.Ifeelahandslidingupmyback,tracingoverthestrapofmybraforafewshiveringseconds.
“Mostgirlswouldbesickofbeinginatentbynow.Notyou.”
“Iwonderwhy.”Ibalancebetterontheballsofmyfeettotiptoehigher.Iputmyhandintothehairathisnapeandencouragehimtomovecloser.“Tentsexisjustruiningmeforanyotherkind.”
“I’mserious,Darcy,”hesighswhenIallowhimabreath.Thenwe’resinkingbacktogether,histongueagainstmine.Hetriestoeaseusintosomethingslower.“Isthisgoingtobeourhouse?Youjusttoldmeitwasperfect.”
Iendthekissandlookaround,pretendingtoconsiderit.“It’llshapeupprettynice,”isallI’llsay,coveringthespikeoffearinside.Tentlifesuitsme.AmIthekindofpersonwhocanhaveahouseforever?Whatwouldthatfeellike?WhenIinheritedthecottagefromLoretta,ithadabuilt-inexpirationdate.
EversinceTomputthisringonmyfinger,he’sbeenchallengingmetoaddressmyfearofforever.Myheartconditionhasbeensostable,I’mbeginningtothinkIcan.
“DoyouthinkIcandoit?Liveintheoneplace?”
“Ido.”Heleansmeagainsthim.“Ithinkwebothcanlearntogether.”Irememberbelatedlythathe’sgotjustasmuchtofeelinsecureabout.He’smovedaroundworkingonhousesforyears.Ifeelhishandputthescrewdriverintothetightbackpocketofmyshorts.Thenhesqueezeshard.Ilikehisgrunt.
Itrytoexplainmyself.“It’smywanderlust.IthinkIwasacircusworkerinmypreviouslife.Ijustlovepitchingthattentsomewherenew.”
“Thiscanhardlycountastravel.”Hegetsthatworriedlookinhiseye.He’sparanoidthathe’sstiflingmyinternationaltravelaspirations,buthejustdoesn’tgetit.I’vealreadyseeneverycorner,bar,andbackalley.Thenoveltyofthesemicro-journeysfromhousetohousehasbeenadelight.
OnedayI’lltakeTomtoallmyfavoriteplaces.It’soneofmydaydreams,workingouttheshortlist.It’sokaythatweneedafewmoreflipsdonefirst.
Hekissesmycheekbone.“Everytimewebuyaplace,Ithink:Thisisit.She’lllovethisone.Thisisourhouse.Andthenyousellit.”He’smelancholynow.“Twohousesago,youcouldhavehadahomestudio.IsawyourfacewhenyoustoodonthatItaliancarpet.Then…sold.”Hesighs.
“We’rehouseflippers.”Ismoothhishairdownwithmyfingernails.“Yougotmeaddicted.Idon’twantittoend.”
“Isthatwhatyouthinkwillhappen?Thatitwillend?”
“You’llmovetothenextflipandbeinthetentwithoutme.”
“YouknowIcan’tdothiswithoutyou.We’llchoosehouseswithintraveldistanceandbehomeeverynight.”Patiently,hehammersdowneveryconcernIhave.“Chooseahouse.”
“Why?”I’mjustplayingalong.Iknowwhybynow.
“SoIcanmakeityourdreamhouse.”
“IthinkthattentiseverythingIeverwanted,”Ireply.Westareintoeachother’seyesandtheedgesoftheroomstarttodarkenandfadeoff.“Ioncehadanimpossiblethought.Idecidedthatifyouweremine—”Iswallowmywordswhenhetipsmyjawtoonesideandbeginstokissmyneck.It’snotfair.HeknowsIshort-circuitfromthat.
“IfIwasyours,”hepromptswithasmileinhisvoice.
“Idecided,ifyouweremine,”Itryagain,andmyvoiceisaraw,huskyoutwardbreaththathardenshisbodyandsharpenshisteethonmyskin,“I’dsleepwithyouinatent,allnight,asthewindhowledandtherainfell.Tobewithyou,I’dsleeponthegroundfortherestofmylife.”
“AndItoldmyselfthatI’dbuildacastlefortheprincess.”Hemovescloserstill,andthestepladderwobblesunderme.Idon’tevenfeelamomentoffear.He’llneverletmefall.“ThatwaswhatIpromisedmyself.”
“Idon’tneedthat,”Iargue,buthecutsmeoff.
“IpromisedmyselfthatwhenIwasjustakid.BackwhenallIknewhowtousewasahammer,IdecidedthatonedayDarcyBarrettwouldwalkintoahouseI’dmadeandshe’dlookatmelike…”Hetrailsoff,andhisexpressionturnswryandwistful.“Actually,howyou’relookingatmenow.”
“LikeI’vegoteverythingIwant,ifIhaveyou.”Imakesureheunderstandsme.“Iloveyousomuch.”
He’srestlessnow,tryingtoworkouthowtoconvinceme.“It’ssohardtospoilsomeonewhodoesn’twanttobespoiled.”
“Youspoilmeeverynight.”
Iputmyfingersonthebuckleofhisbelt.HisbottomlipdropsopeninsurpriseandIbiteit.Hishandtriestointerfere,tighteningonmine,butIjustkeeprunningmyfingernailonthemetal.Itseemstobeaconduittosomerawplaceoflustforhim,becausehecanbarelytolerateit.
“Youreallywantmetochooseahouse.”
“Yes,please.”Hesoundscompletelydesperate.Ilookaroundtheroom.It’sstillwaitingforawalltobemovedandthecornicingishideous,butthelightshinesinsopleasinglyandIlikethehedgeoflavenderhummingwithbees.
IthinkhowmuchIlovehim,andthenextbigwayIcanproveit.
“Thishouse,”Ifinallyallowmyselftosay.They’rewordsI’veheldinforweeksnow.Thedecisionfeelslikeakeyinalock.“Thisisourhouse.”I’vegotmyhandonhisjaw,tiltinguphisfacejusttolookathissurprise.“Location,size,thatlightinginthebathroom.Putmeinthatbedroomandneverletmeout.”
“Thisistheone?Yousure?”Hepauses,anewthoughtgivinghimpleasure.“ThisisthethresholdI’mgonnacarryyouover?”There’saflareinhiseyes;thatanimalinsidehimwantsnothingmorethantoaddasecondringofgoldontomyhand.
“Yeah,”Iassurehim,bracingforthekissthatIknowiscoming.It’sgoingtobesomethingintense,withallofhisheartandexcitementinit.Finally,TomValeskacanstopbeingthatboy,lockedoutinthedark,waitingtobefound.Whenhestartsworkagain,it’sgoingtobeanewexperienceforhim.It’sgoingtobesomethinghe’sneverfeltbefore,andI’msogladI’vegiventhistohimnow.
Thishouse?It’sTomValeska’shouse.It’sDarcyBarrett’shouse.
Holyshit,I’mlivingmyowndreamcometrue.
He’sgatheringmeupnowinbothhands,ignoringthesoundofcardoorsslammingoutsideandbootsapproaching.They’regoingtocatchuskissing,butthat’shappenedahundredtimesbefore,andbesides,thisismonumental.Professionalismbedamned;DarcyBarrettandTomValeskanowhaveahome.Hetipsmyheadback,readytoshowmehowhappyheis.
“YouknowI’llloveyouevenifyoumakemeliveinatentfortherestofmylife.Areyoureallysure?”
“Sosure.”Iclosemyeyes,andhismouthisonmine,andwearehappy.It’sjustassimpleasthat.TheHatingGameEpilogue
It’sareddresskindofday.
It’sFridayafternoon.I’msittinginmyofficeatBexley&GaminandIcanseemyreflectioninmyfloor-to-ceilingwindow.OutwardlyIlookremarkablycorporate,butontheinsideI’mforeveranimmaturelittleweirdo.IcrossmylegsandbegintoplaytheMirrorGamewithmyself.TheStaringGame.EvenawhisperedHowYouDoingGame.It’sjustnotthesamewithoutmyopponent.
It’sbeenashittyday.IspenttheafternoonfightingavaliantbattleagainstMr.Bexleyoverelectronicdistributionroyalties,andthenIfoundoutthatthere’sabuginourlateste-libraryapp.I’msotiredIcanfeelmyownskeleton.Ineedtobelyingonmyperfectcouchbutit’snotgoingtohappentonight.It’ssoquietIcanhearthefluorescenttubesbuzzing.
Theelevatorbings.
Whoever’sjustarrivedonthetenthfloorneedstobekeptoutofmyofficesoIcangetthehelloutofhere.Scott,ourexecutiveofficer,isaprettygoodgatekeeper.Icanhearmuffledconversation,andthenthere’saraponthedoor.There’sonlyonepersonintheworldwhocanputsomuchshort,sharploveintoasingleknock.
“Comein,”Isay.Thedoorswingsopenandthereheis.
JoshuaTemplemanisdressedinblack.Everything,fromhisunderweartohiscufflinkstohistie,isink-blackmidnight.HeenjoysthedramaofitonaFriday,slidingintopeople’sofficedoorwayslikeDraculajustasthey’relooseningtheirtiesandthinkingabouttheirweekends.Allheneedsissomedevilhornsandapitchfork.Ifeelvaguelybadforwhoeverhe’sbeenterrorizingtoday.
Heleansagainstthedoorjambandwe’replayingtheStaringGameforaminuteuntilhisdarknavyeyesspark.“Shortcake,”hebreatheslikehecan’tbelieveI’mreal.“Imissedyousobad.”
My.Heart.Bursts.
Istandupandgotohim.Hepicksmeupofftheground,kissingmyjaw,mycheekbones,hisfingersstrokingmynape.HeturnsmeinacircleandIcrossmyanklesprettily.Thetirednessfallsoutthroughmyfeetanddissolves.
He’shere,andI’mlitup.It’sthekindoflightthatneverfades.
Peopleintheoppositebuildingmightbeabletoseeus.Motoristsatthetrafficlightsbelowcanprobablymakeoutthesilhouetteofaridiculouslylargemantwirlingaroundaridiculouslysmallwoman.DuringoneslowrevolutionIcatchsightofHeleneandMr.Bexley,standingnearScott’sdesk.They’realllookingatuslikewe’rethemostgorgeouslysillycoupleintheworld.It’saccurate.Weare.
HeleneglancesatMr.Bexleywithawryexpression,andIswearIseealittlemomentofconnectionbetweenthem.I’vebeensuspectingitmoreandmore.Iknowlove-hatewhenIseeit.
IspeakintoJosh’sneck.“Ihatenotbeingabletostareatyourprettyfaceallday.”
Ibreatheinhisaddictive,perfectscent.Deciduoustreesinthesun.Evergreentreesinthesnow.Apencilsharpenedtoarazorpoint,pressingintofreshwhitepaper.
“It’sagainstHRpolicytostareatyourcorporaterivalallday.”
Ihughimharder.“WhoseHRpolicy?”
“Oneofthem,I’msure.I’lllookitup.”Joshsetsmedownandkissesmycheekagain.Oncehestarts,hecan’tstop.
IntheelevatorI’llwipeoffmyFlamethrowerlipsticksoIcangetmyproperhellokiss.IfI’mluckyhe’llhittheemergencystopbutton,althoughwe’vebeenpissingoffthesecurityguardswiththat.
ItreatmyselftoanicesqueezeofhistorsobeforeIrememberthedoorisajar.“Whohaveyoumadecrytoday,Overlord?”AttheSandersonChristmasparty,Ioverheardhisnicknameandhadtolaugh.Heearnedit.
“Nobody,”hetellsmewithadorablesincerityandablink.“Notasingleperson.I’machangedman.”
I’mtryingtoteachhimhowtobemoreapproachable.Moreunderstanding.Morelikeme.
AtthefirstSandersonChristmasparty,Istoodaloneandawkwardforanexcruciatingtwominutes,duringwhichtimeIwasthesubjectofspeculation.Ifeltlikethewordhowwassaidalot.Icouldheartheirdrunk,high-pitchedwhispers.Shelooksnormal.Sweet.Sosmall!Howdoesshecopewiththat…monster?Weshouldrescueher.
Maybehekeepsherchainedinhisbasement.
IwavedlikeadorktoshowthatIwasnotshackledandwasthereofmyownfreewill.Theyshrankback,thenfelltotallysilentastheirchieffinancialofficer,akatheOverlord,approachedmewithaglassofwine.Hiseyesweresoftwithtendernessandmyheartstoppedbeatinguntilherestarteditwithakiss.TheOverlordsnuggledmeintohisside,fittingustogetherjustright.Hardandsoft.Darknessandlight.Goodcop,badcop.
Iregisteredthejawsdropping.He’ssmiling!
He’stheOverlord,hecallsthemhisUnderlings,butIcanseethelittlesignsthathe’sgettingbetteratthis.Atalotofthings,actually.
“Didyourememberyourdad’spresent?”
“Yep.We’dbettergetgoingifwe’regoingtomaketheparty.MindyandPatrickhavebeentextingmeobsessively.Don’tbelate,don’tbelate.”He’ssarcasticbutIknowhowmuchthismeanstohim.
“Yep.We’dbettergetgoingifwe’regoingtomaketheparty.MindyandPatrickhavebeentextingmeobsessively.Don’tbelate,don’tbelate.”He’ssarcasticbutIknowhowmuchthismeanstohim.
Igivehisarmastrokeandasqueeze.“Wewon’tbelate.”
Ican’tlieonthecouchtonightbecauseI’mneededinPortWorth.I’mJosh’slittleluckycharm.WhenI’mthere,heandhisdaddon’tfight.Luckilyforthemboth,I’malwaysthere.
“Gotquiteacollectionbynow,Shortcake,”Joshsays,lookingattherowsofMatchboxcarsontheshelfbehindme.HeforgetsourhurryandtakesaredVolkswagenbeetleoutofhispocket,slidingitintooneofthegaps.
“Mytoyshavegivenmeareputationforbeingquirkyandapproachable.”
“Noonewouldguessthisstrawberry-sweetexteriorhidesacompletehard-ass.”
“Ilearnedfromthemaster.I’mknownforbeingfirmbutfair.”
“Mmm.Tellmemore.”HelovessittingatmydesktolookateverythingIsurroundmyselfwith,andhelowershimselfdownintomychairlikeit’samilkmaidstool.Hiseyesarelitwithacreepykindofdevotionashelooksatthecastleofbooksagainstthewall,andtheSmurfhiddeninoneofthebattlements.Hefindsmybottleofperfumeandsmellsthelidashestrokesmycomputermouse.
“That’swhereyou’vebeen,”hesaysinascoldingtonetothecardiganslungonthebackofmychair.Hefoldsitintoabreadslicesquareonhisknee.
I’veturnedhimintosuchatotalfreak.
I’manevenbiggerfreakwhenIvisithisoffice.IoncetouchedthespeeddialbuttononhisphonemarkedSHORTCAKEjusttomakemycellphonering.ThenIwasjealousofmyself.That’sasensationIfeelalot.
HowamIlivingthislife?HowdidIwinsomuch?
Likehecanreadmymind,Joshpicksuptheframedphotographonmydesk.It’sustogetherinthestrawberryfields.Oureyesaresummerbright,andIamsittingbetweenhislegsleaningbackagainsthim.Aroundusisacarpetofgreen,studdedwithred.Thepictureisatinybitcrookedbecausemydadwasalittleoverexcitedbythesecrethewaskeeping.
Fiveminutesafterthisphotowastaken,Joshsaid,“Hey,it’sanoldSmurfinthedirt.”
Heknewnothingwouldmakemedroptothegroundfaster.Iscratchedfranticallythroughtheleaves.Where?Where?WhatIfoundinthevinesatSkyDiamondsStrawberrieswasaTiffanybluebox.ThenIrealizedhewaskneelingdown,too.
Lucyblue.True-loveblue.
Evenashesqueakedtheboxopenandbegantospeak,Iwasdimlyawareofcheeringfromthehouse.Myparentswerespyingfromtheofficewindow.
AfterIbrushedthesquashedberriesfromthebackofhisT-shirt,IlearnedthatJoshhadbecomeanexpertindiamonds.Carat,cut,color,clarity.Heshiveredwithdelightashedescribedstaringatimperfectionsthroughaloupe.Icouldjustimaginehislasereyescrumblingstonestoash.Thewayhetellsit,hesearchedthroughapileofworthlesspebblesuntilhefoundsomethingworthyofmytinyfinger.Itellhimit’stoobig,toomuch,tooperfect.Hejustlaughsandsays,Iknow,thenmakesmeforgetwhetherwe’restilltalkingaboutthediamond.
Ithinkmycheeksaregoingpinkrightnow.Whenhelooksmeintheeye,hesmirks.He’sdefinitelyamindreader
“Weneedavacation,”hedecides,hisfingerstraighteningtheterra-cottatileIuseasacoaster.IgotthattileinTuscany.“I’mtakingyouback.Cheeseandwineandsleepinginthesun.”Hiseyesfollowthelineofmydressdownmybody.“Reddressesandchampagneandcarbohydrates.”Apause,andthere’salittlevulnerabilityinhisexpressionnow.“Ididn’tgocrazyanddreamitall,didI?”
“IhavefrequentlyassuredyouthatI’mreal.”Itakehishandinmineanduseittopinchmyforearm.“Iwasthereforeveryincrediblesecond.Ialwayswillbe.Now,quittalkingaboutcarbohydrates.You’returningmeon.”
Helaughs.“We’dbettergetoutofhere.”HegrabsmycoatandwalksouttochatwithHeleneandMr.Bexley.
IlogoffandlockawaythestackofslushpilemanuscriptsI’vebeenreadingasmyownlittletreat.Ilockmydoorandjustwatchhisreflectionbouncearoundofftheslick,glossysurfacesthatmakeuplevelten.TheonlythingbetterthanhavingoneJoshishavingahundred.
IlookattheplaqueonmyofficedoorasIlockit.Itsays,ChiefOperatingOfficer,andusuallyithasmegrinninglikeadork.Butrightnow,I’msmilingoversomethingelse.
ThegoldringonJoshuaTempleman’slefthandhassetoffashoweroffireworksparklesinthishugeblackprism.EachtimeIfocusononeparticularreflection,itfracturesanddoubles.It’sakaleidoscopeofhislovearoundmenow.Thereareahundredgoldrings.Athousand.It’sstillnotenough.Iwanttospinaroundwhiletheycirclemelikefireflies.That’showhemakesmefeel,everydayofourlife.
It’swonderful.It’sprimal.It’snothingshortofamiracle.
MynameisLucyTempleman.PraiseforTheHatingGame
“‘Hatingsomeonefeelsdisturbinglysimilartobeinginlove,’saysLucyHutton,whocan’tstandfellowexecutiveassistantJoshua.There’sonlyoneplacethiscouldgo…butit’sgoodfungettingthere.”
—People
“Fivefeettallandatotaloddball,[Lucy]carriestheplotbybeingengaginglyself-deprecating,quick-wittedandfunny….ThechemistrybetweenLucyandJoshuaisalsogratifying,withbothseeminglikefullyconceivedcharactersratherthanpassivestereotypes….It’s…avibranttakeonanoldstandard.”
—TheNewYorkTimesBookReview
“Ifyoumissromanticcomedies,thekindthatweresofunny,youwouldpay$15toseetheminthetheater…thisnovelwillmakeyouveryhappyindeed….TherisingtensionandThorne’sbitingdialoguewillmakeyouwishfortheromanticcomediesofdaysgoneby—orjustmorebookslikethisone.”
—NPRBooks
“SallyThornesatisfiesheartslongingforlaughterintheirlovestories….Theirbattleofwitsistremendouslyfun—acerbicandsexyandfilledwithtension.Theresultisawicked,wittyromancethatwillcapturereaders’heartslongbeforeJoshuamanagestocaptureLucy’s.”
—SarahMacLean,NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthor
“BepreparedtoplaytheCharmingGamewithSallyThorne.TheirrepressibleLucyandherstarchy,growlycounterpartJoshuawillwinyouoverfromtheopeningpage.”
—JaneLitte,DearAuthor
“Someofyoumighthavetraveledtothebeachforthesolepurposeofescapingtheoffice,butwethinkthisfunnyandromanticworkplacecomedyjustmightchangeyourmind….Weknowyou’llfindtheirstoryentertainingandsexy.”
—BookishAlsobySallyThorne
TheHatingGameCopyright
Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentsareproductsoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiouslyandarenottobeconstruedasreal.Anyresemblancetoactualevents,locales,organizations,orpersons,livingordead,isentirelycoincidental.
P.S.?isatrademarkofHarperCollinsPublishers.
99PERCENTMINE.Copyright?2019bySallyThorne.AllrightsreservedunderInternationalandPan-AmericanCopyrightConventions.Bypaymentoftherequiredfees,youhavebeengrantedthenonexclusive,nontransferablerighttoaccessandreadthetextofthise-bookon-screen.Nopartofthistextmaybereproduced,transmitted,downloaded,decompiled,reverse-engineered,orstoredinorintroducedintoanyinformationstorageandretrievalsystem,inanyformorbyanymeans,whetherelectronicormechanical,nowknownorhereafterinvented,withouttheexpresswrittenpermissionofHarperCollinse-books.
FIRSTEDITION