Stage Dive: Lick Part 29

I'd been avoiding seeing my parents since I got back. Easy enough to do considering I'd hung up on the lecture my father had attempted to give me the second day after my return. Relations had been frosty since then. The real surprise was that I wasn't surprised. They had never encouraged anything that didn't directly support the plan. There was a reason I'd never returned their calls when I was in Monterey. Because I couldn't tell them the things they wanted to hear anymore, it had seemed safer to stay mute.

Nathan had been running interference with the folks, which I appreciated, but my time was up. We'd all been summoned to dinner tomorrow night. I figured the text was my mother ensuring I wasn't going to try and wheedle out of it. Sometimes she sat up late watching old black and white movies when her sleeping pills didn't kick in.

I was wrong.

David: She surprised me when she kissed me. That's why I didn't stop her right away. But I didn't want it.

I stared at my cell, frowning.

David: You there?

Me: Yeah.

David: I need to know if you believe me about Martha.

Did I? I took a breath, searched deep. There was frustration, plenty of confusion, but my anger had apparently burned itself out at long last. Because I didn't doubt he'd told me the truth.

Me: I believe you.

David: Thank you. I keep thinking of more. Will you listen?

Me: Yes.

David: My folks got married because of Jimmy. Mom left when I was 12. She drank.

David: Jimmy's been paying her to keep quiet. She's been hustling him for years.

Me: Holy h.e.l.l!

David: Yeah. I got lawyers onto it now.

Me: Glad to hear it.

David: We retired Dad to Florida. I told him about you. He wants to meet.

Me: Really? I don't know what to say ...

David: Can I come up?

Me: You're here??

I didn't wait for a reply. Forget my pajama shorts and daggy old T-s.h.i.+rt, washed so many times its original color was a faded memory. He'd just have to take me as he found me. I unlocked the front door of our apartment and padded down the stairs on bare feet, my cell still in my hand. Sure enough, a tall shadow loomed through the frosted gla.s.s of the building's front door. I pushed it open to find him sitting on the step. Outside, the night was still, peaceful. A fancy silver SUV was pulled up at the curb.

"Hey," he said, a finger busy on the screen of his cell. Mine beeped again.

David: Wanted to say goodnight.

"Okay," I said, looking up from the screen. "Come in."

The side of his mouth lifted and he looked up at me. I met his gaze, refusing to feel self-conscious. He didn't seem put off by my slacker bedtime style. If anything, his smile increased, his eyes warming. "You about to go to bed?"

"I was just reading. Couldn't sleep."

"Is your brother here?" He stood and followed me back up the stairs, his boots tapping loudly on the old wooden floors. I half expected Mrs Lucia from downstairs to come out and yell. It was a hobby of hers.

"No," I said, closing the door behind us. "He and Lauren went out."

He looked around the apartment with interest. As usual he took up all the s.p.a.ce. I don't know how he did that. It was like a magician's trick. He was somehow so much bigger than he actually seemed. And the man didn't seem small to begin with. In no rush at all, his gaze wandered around the room, taking in bright turquoise walls (Lauren's doing) and the shelves of neatly stacked books (my doing).

"Is this yours?" he asked, poking his head into my bedroom.

"Ah, yes. It's a bit of a mess right now, though." I squeezed past him and started speed-cleaning, picking up the books and other a.s.sorted debris scattered across the floor. I should have asked him to give me five minutes before coming up. My mother would be horrified. Since returning from LA I'd let my world descend into chaos. It suited my frazzled state of mind. Didn't mean David needed to see it. I needed to make a plan to clean up my act and actually stick to it this time.

"I used to be organized," I said, flailing, my fallback position for everything lately.

"It doesn't matter."

"This won't take a minute."

"Ev," he said, catching hold of my wrist in much the same manner that his gaze caught me. "I don't care. I just need to talk to you."

A sudden horrible thought entered my mind.

"Are you leaving?" I asked, today's dirty work s.h.i.+rt clutched in my suddenly shaking hand.

His grip tightened around my wrist. "You want me to leave?"

"No. I mean, are you leaving Portland? Is that why you're here, to say goodbye?"

"No."

"Oh." The pincer grip my ribs had gotten on my heart and lungs eased back a little. "Okay."

"Where did that come from?" When I didn't answer he tugged me gently toward him. "Hey."

I took a reluctant step in his direction, dropping the dirty laundry. He pressed for more, sitting on my bed and pulling me down alongside him. I sort of stumbled my b.u.t.t onto the double mattress as opposed to doing it with any grace. Story of my life. Object achieved, he gave up his grip on me. My hands clenched the edge of the bed.

"So, you got a weird look on your face and then you asked me if I was leaving," he said, blue eyes concerned. "Care to explain?"

"You haven't turned up at midnight before. I guess I wondered if there was more to it than just dropping by."

"I drove by your apartment and I saw your light was on. Figured I'd send you a text, see what mood you were in after our talk today." He rubbed at his bearded chin with the palm of his hand. "Plus, like I said, I keep thinking of stuff I need to tell you."

"You drive by my apartment often?"

He gave me a wry smile. "Only a couple of times. It's my way of saying goodnight to you."

"How did you know which window was mine?"

"Ah, well, that time I talked to Lauren when I was first came to town? She had the light on in the other room. Figured this one must be yours." He didn't look at me, choosing instead to check out the photos of me and my friends on the walls. "You mad that I've been around?"

"No," I answered honestly. "I think I might be running out of mad."

"You are?"

"Yeah."

He let out a slow breath and stared back at me, saying nothing. Dark bruises lingered beneath his eyes, though his swollen nose had gone back to normal size.

"I really am sorry Nate hit you."

"If I was your brother, I'd have done the exact same f.u.c.king thing." He braced his elbows on his knees, but kept his face turned toward me.

"Would you?"

"Without question."

Males and their penchant for beating on things, it knew no end.

The silence dragged out. It wasn't uncomfortable exactly. At least we weren't fighting or rehas.h.i.+ng our break-up one more time. Being broken and angry got old.

"Can we just hang out?" I asked.

"Absolutely. Lemme see this." He picked up my iPhone and started flicking through the music files. "Where are the ear buds?"

I hopped up and retrieved them from among the c.r.a.p on my desk. David plugged them in then, handed me an ear bud. I sat at his side, curious what he'd choose out of my music. When the rocking, jumpy beat of 'Jackson' by Johnny Cash and June Carter started I looked at him in amus.e.m.e.nt. He smirked and mouthed the lyrics. We had indeed gotten married in a fever.

"You making fun of me?" I asked.

Light danced in his eyes. "I'm making fun of us."

"Fair enough."

"What else have you got here?"

Cash and Carter finished and he continued his search for songs. I watched his face, waiting for a reaction to my musical tastes. All I got was a smothered yawn.

"They're not that bad," I protested.

"Sorry. Big day."

"David, if you're tired, we don't have to-"

"No. I'm fine. But do you mind if I lie down?"

David on my bed. Well, he was already on my bed but ... "Sure."

He gave me a cagey look but started tugging off his sneakers. "You just being polite?"

"No, it's fine. And, I mean, legally the bed is still half yours," I joked, pulling out the ear bud before his movements did it for me. "So, what did you do today?"

"Been working on the new alb.u.m and sorting out some stuff." Hands behind his head, he stretched out across my bed. "You lying down too? We can't share the music if you don't."

I crawled on and lay down next to him, wriggling around a bit, making myself comfortable. It was, after all, my bed. And he would be the only male who'd ever lain on it. The slight scent of his soap came to me, clean and warm and David. All too well, I remembered. For once, hurt didn't seem to come attached to the memory. I poked around inside my head, double-checking. When I'd said I was out of mad, it had apparently been nothing more than the truth. We had our issues, but him cheating on me wasn't one of them. I knew that now and it meant a lot.

"Here." He handed me back the ear bud and started playing with my cell again.

"How's Jimmy?" I rolled onto my side, needing to see him. The strong line of his nose and jaw was in profile, the curve of his lips. How many times had I kissed him? Not nearly enough to last me if it never happened again.

"He's doing a lot better. Seems to have really gotten himself right. I think he's going to be okay."

"That's great news."

"At least he comes by his problems honestly," he said, his tone turning bitter. "Our mother is a f.u.c.king disaster from what I hear. But then, she always was. She used to take us to the park because she needed to score. She'd turn up to school plays and parentateacher nights high as a kite."

I kept my mouth shut, letting him get it out. The best thing I could do for him was to be there and listen. The pain and anger in his voice was heartbreaking. My parents had their overbearing issues, certainly, but nothing like this. David's childhood had been terrible. If I could have b.i.t.c.h-slapped his mother right then for putting that pain in his voice, I would have. Twice over.

"Dad ignored her using for years. He could. He was a long-haul truck driver, away most of the time. Jimmy and me were the ones that had to put up with her s.h.i.+t. The number of times we'd come home to find her babbling all sorts of stuff or pa.s.sed out on the couch. There'd be no food in the house 'cause she'd spent the grocery money on pills. Then one day we came home from school and she and the TV were gone. That was it." He stared up at nothing, his face drawn. "She didn't even leave a note. Now she's back and she's been hurting Jimmy. It drives me nuts."

"That must have been hard for you," I said. "Hearing about her from Jimmy."

One of his shoulders did a little lift. "He shouldn't have had to deal with her on his own. Said he wanted to protect me. Seems my big brother isn't a completely selfish p.r.i.c.k."

"Thank you for texting me."

"S'okay. What do you feel like listening to?" The sudden change in topic told me he didn't want to talk about his family anymore. He yawned again, his jaw cracking. "Sorry."

"The Saint Johns."

He nodded, flicking through to find the only song I had of theirs. The strum of the guitar started softly, filling my head. He put the cell on his chest and his eyelids drifted down. A man and a woman took turns singing about their head and their heart. Throughout it, his face remained calm, relaxed. I started to wonder if he'd fallen asleep. But when the song finished he turned to look at me.

"Nice. A bit sad," he said.

"You don't think they'll be together in the end?"

He, too, rolled onto his side. There was no more than a hand's width between us. With a curious look, he handed me the cell. "Play me another song you like."

I scrolled through the screens, trying to decide what to play for him. "I forgot to tell you, someone was in saying they'd seen you today. Your anonymity might be about to run out."

He sighed. "Bound to happen sooner or later. They'll just have to get used to me being around."

"You're really not leaving?" I tried to keep my voice light but it didn't work.

"No. I'm really not." He looked at me and I just knew he saw everything. All of my fears and dreams and the hopes I did my best to keep hidden, even from myself. But I couldn't hide from him if I tried. "Okay?"

"Okay," I said.

"You asked me if you were my attempt at normal. I need you to understand, that's not it at all. Being with you, the way I feel about you, it does ground me. But that's because it makes me question f.u.c.king everything. It makes me want to make things better. Makes me want to be better. I can't hide from s.h.i.+t or make excuses when it comes to you because that won't work. Neither of us is happy when things are that way and I want you to be happy ..." His forehead furrowed and his dark brows drew tight. "Do you understand?"