“I don’t expect you to understand why I feel this way, but I honestly think that’s not something I have to worry about.”
“You guys bumped into each other just two weeks ago and you had sex once and now he’s just going to leave his wife?”
“We had sex four times,” I reply with a grin, but Kenny doesn’t look impressed. “I told you, it’s not that simple. We have a history.”
“Enlighten me. What is this history that makes the situation so complicated?”
I heave a deep sigh and stare at the ceiling as I begin. “I’ve loved him since I was eleven years old.”
“Holy pedobear. You two were together when you were eleven?”
“No. That’s how long I’ve loved him. We didn’t get together until I was eighteen. Houston’s sister was my best friend.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath as I try to keep my emotions in check. “Hallie committed suicide our freshman year in college and I ended up living with Houston the rest of the year. We broke up a week before summer break.”
“So you were there for each other at the most painful time of your lives, but the pain wasn’t enough to keep you two together?”
I open my eyes to look at Kenny. “I wish it were that simple.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the engagement ring. “He was really messed up by what happened to Hallie. He was the one who found her.”
“Holy jeebus. Look at the size of that rock. He gave you this engagement ring and you still broke up with him?”
“No. He gave me that ring last night. He never gave it to me when we were together. He broke up with me when he found out I was pregnant.”
Kenny shakes his head adamantly as he rises from the sofa. “Uh-uh, Rory. This isn’t complicated. This is Kardashian-level fucked up. You’re gonna need to get me a stiff drink if you expect me to listen to this.”
I laugh as I get up and head for the kitchen to get some tequila and lime wedges. I rarely ever drink, hence the easy buzz I got when Kenny and I went out last weekend. I think drinking is one of the things that reminded me too much of Houston. The tasting parties and the research trips to the pubs. Getting tipsy and having frenzied drunken sex was so common for us that just walking down the beer aisle at work can be a haunting experience.
Two hours and four tequila shots later, Kenny has heard the story of Houston and me. I’ve arrived at the climax where, apparently, Houston comes back into my life, gives me a very expensive diamond engagement ring, and tells me he’s going to leave his wife. And it all happens at the same time I run into a totally nice, unattached lumberjack I once knew in a past life.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” I pull my phone out of my pocket and Kenny lunges for it, but I hold it out of his reach. “I told lumberjack—I mean, Liam—I’d call him today. I have to call him.”
“Nuh-uh. You are not drunk-dialing him at eleven o’clock at night on a Monday. Give me that phone.”
I laugh as he struggles to take the phone from me, then I jump up from the sofa and race to the bedroom, laughing maniacally as I lock the door behind me.
“Nothing good can come of this!” he shouts at me through the door.
I dial Liam’s number, then I press my fingertips to my cheekbones to see how numb my face is. He answers on the second ring.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” I reply, trying not to laugh.
“I thought you’d forgotten about me.”
“Nope. Just got a little sidetracked. I’m drunk.”
He laughs. “You drunk-dialed me?”
“Yeah, sorry. I was drinking with my friend and I just remembered that I promised to call you today. I didn’t want you to think I’m flaky. I’m really not flaky, but I am forgetful. And both of those words begin with the letter F.”
He chuckles. “An astute observation. Other than getting drunk, what are you and your friend doing?”
“Exchanging sob stories.” I hear a soft barking noise in the background and I get really excited. “Do you have a dog?”
“Yeah, a shepherd mix named Sparky, short for Sparkle Motion.”
I chuckle at this reference to the movie Donnie Darko. “He must be a great dancer.”
“He is. You should see him go from a pirouette straight into a perfect Dirty Dancing lift.”
“I’d love to see that. Maybe he could teach Skippy a thing or two. I’m taking Skip to Wallace Park tomorrow. You should bring Sparky.”
Liam is silent for a moment, and when he finally responds his voice sounds a bit weary. “Rory, tomorrow’s Tuesday. I work tomorrow.”
“Oh, crap. Sorry. Sometimes I forget that not everyone works retail. Just forget I asked. I’ll let you go. You probably need to get to sleep so you can wake up early. Sorry.”
“Wait. Don’t hang up. I’m just… Ah, fuck it. I’ll meet you at the park tomorrow at ten a.m. But you’re really drunk right now, so I’m calling you at nine a.m. to remind you, ’kay?”
Suddenly I feel a little sick to my stomach as I realize Liam is going to skip work tomorrow to hang out with me. I want to tell him to just forget it. I don’t want to lead him on. But Liam was the one who said he’d rather be friends with me than risk getting hurt. I guess that means I’ll have to come clean with him tomorrow about Houston.
“Okay. See you tomorrow.”
I open the door and Kenny is wearing a look of disappointment. “You just asked him on a date.”
“No, I didn’t,” I reply, making my way to the kitchen to rehydrate with a glass of water. “I asked him if he wanted to meet me at the dog park. That’s not a date.”
“Don’t play coy with me, young lady. You can’t pass this off as a doggy playdate. That lumberjack thinks you’re interested in more than his dog.”
My buzz is wearing off quickly as I reach for a glass in the cupboard. “Even if that’s true, the point of this date is to clarify that. I can do it over the phone, but he’s the one who said he wanted to be friends with me.”
Kenny sighs as he leans against the counter. “Fine. But if you break his heart, make sure you do enough damage that he turns gay.”
I laugh as I fill my glass with water from the tap. “Now you’re into lumbersexuals?”
“Honey, a luxurious beard works wonders for oral sex.”
“Ew!”
“Don’t knock it till you try it!”
27. Houston
August 26th
* * *
The smile on Troy’s face tells me he’s very pleased with my plans. “You’re finally gonna do it?”
I take a long pull on my bottle of Barley Legal Double IPA. “I know. It’s been a long time coming, but I’m still nervous as fuck.”
Steve, the bartender in the Barley Legal pub, exchanges my empty bottle for a fresh, cold one. I nod at him and he goes back to pouring some pints for a group of girls who came in on one of those Portland brewery bike tours. Not that I don’t appreciate the extra business, but riding around on a bike while drinking beer all day sounds like a good way to get hit by a bus.
“So when are you gonna do it? Can I get it on video?”
I shake my head. “Tessa’s gonna flip. It might be a good idea for someone to be outside in case she pulls out a gun or something. I don’t know what the fuck she’s been doing behind my back, but I could totally see her at the gun range aiming at a poster of me.”
“Dude, she’s crazier than a coked-up raccoon. You’d better watch yourself.”
“I can handle Tessa. And she’s not crazy, she’s sick.”
“Whatever.” He takes a few gulps from his glass of double bock. “You didn’t ask me what happened when I ran into Rory the other day.”
“I assumed you were probably scheming to sway her in my direction. I didn’t send you there by mistake.”
“You fucking bastard.”
I shrug as I bring the bottle to my lips. “I need all the help I can get.”
“That’s what friends are for,” he replies.
“Interesting. When I was
with your mom last night, she said friends are for cock-gobbling.”
Troy strokes his chin as if he’s considering this. “That is interesting because your mom said friends are for enemas. Followed by sweet backdoor action, of course.”
“Of course.” I leave half my beer in the bottle and slide off the bar stool. “I’ll see you tomorrow, brother.”
“Good luck, man.”
It’s eleven a.m. when I leave the pub. As I open the door to get into the SUV, I spot a silver Lexus that looks like Tessa’s parked at the end of the block. I can’t be sure, but it doesn’t look like there’s anyone sitting in the driver’s seat. I shake my head as I hop into my car. There must be dozens of silver Lexuses in this area at any given time. I’m being paranoid.
I’ve only had one and a half beers, so I decide to drive by Wallace Park to see if Rory is still there with her dog. Seeing her will give me the motivation I need to break away from Tessa.
Being with Rory two nights ago was like being myself again after five years of pretending to be someone else. I finally felt like I was living more than half a life. The worst part is that I didn’t even realize I was living in black and white until I bumped into Rory two weeks ago. Now I can’t get the color of her hair and the taste of her skin out of my head.
I want to carve out a place for her in my life, sow the seeds of trust, and watch our story grow. I want to stir up the ideas in her mind and drink in the tales she’ll tell me into the early hours of the morning.
I want to bore into her, physically and mentally, unearthing every glistening jewel of pleasure and pain. I want to take her to bed every night and worship at the altar of her hushed beauty. I want to lose myself in the luscious curves of her hips and the delicate scent of her skin.
I want to slide that ring on her finger and kiss her madly in front of hundreds of people. I want to have a family with her. I want to make her deliriously happy.
I turn left on Raleigh Street and quickly find a space for my car across from the park on the corner of Raleigh and 25th. I cross the street, trying to peek through the trees and the wire mesh fence surrounding the dog park, but I don’t see anyone. I head through the waist-high gate and I finally glimpse some people and dogs in the grassy open field. I spot the black Labrador first, which has to be Rory’s dog, Skippy. He’s playing with a tan dog that appears to be some kind of shepherd mix. My gaze follows the dogs as they run, tongues wagging, toward an area shaded by some trees.
I’m about twenty yards from the trees when the black Lab collides with Rory. She orders the dog to sit, but I quickly lose sight of what she’s doing when I notice the guy standing next to her. It’s the guy who went to her apartment the other night.
A roaring wave of jealousy swells inside me, flooding my veins with pure adrenaline. My fists are urging me to destroy him, the one thing standing between Rory and me and everything we’ve ever wanted. But my brain is yelling at me, Down, boy. Sit. Stay.
I approach slowly, consciously trying not to clench my fists so I don’t look too intimidating. Rory spots me when I’m a few yards away. Her eyes widen and she drops the dog treat in her hand, which the tan dog quickly snatches up.
“Houston?” she says, her voice breathy with shock.
She glances at the guy next to her and he refuses to look at me, but the sight of the muscle in his jaw twitching drives me over the edge. This asshole thinks I’m inconveniencing him? He’s the one infringing on my territory.
“Is there a problem?” I ask, my voice taut with tension.
Rory opens her mouth to respond when she realizes I’m not talking to her. “No!” she shouts, as if we’re two dogs who can be called off each other with a simple command. “No, this is not happening here, or anywhere, so just come off it.”
I tear my gaze away from the hipster lumberjack and look Rory in the eye. “We need to talk.”
I nod for her to follow me and she calls Skippy to join us as we walk a few yards away. “Houston, this is not what you think it is. Liam is just a friend.”
“It doesn’t matter what you think it is. What matters is what he thinks it is. And he doesn’t think you two are just friends.”
“You’re misreading this. Really.”
I gaze into her hazel eyes, searching for a trace of deceit, but Rory has always been the most honest person I know. She really thinks they’re just friends.
“I’m leaving Tessa tonight.”
She draws in a sharp breath. “Tonight?”
“Yeah. I need to know if you’re ready to do this. Just you and me. See where the story takes us.”
She smiles and nods as her eyes well up with tears. “I’m ready.”
I cradle her face in my hands and kiss her forehead. “I’ll tell you everything tomorrow.” I kiss her cheekbone and she grabs the front of my shirt. “Then I hope you’ll let me put that ring on your finger.”
She exhales a soft sigh into my mouth as I kiss her slowly. I let go of her face and smile when I see the far-off look in her eyes.
“How do you do that?” she murmurs.
I crouch down and scratch Skippy behind the ears as he licks my face. “Do what?”
“Make me forget where I am.”
I smile as I look up at her. “That’s because everywhere we’re together is the only place and the only moment that exists.”
28. Rory
August 26th
* * *
Houston laughs as Skippy shoves his head into his lap, begging for even more attention. I shake my head as I watch my boy hamming it up, then I glance over my shoulder at Liam. He has Sparky by the collar as the dog jumps up and down excitedly, eager to join his new buddy Skippy. I want to invite Liam and Sparky to come over, but I feel like it would be too awkward. And I don’t want to give Houston the wrong impression about Liam and me.
“Houston, I know you’ve already met Liam, but can I please reintroduce you?”
He takes a deep breath before he stands up, glances in Liam’s direction, then flashes me a reluctant smile. “Anything you want.”
“Thank you.”
I tear my gaze away from his gorgeous face and turn back to Liam. I wave at him, but he doesn’t notice me. I take a step toward him and suddenly I’m knocked onto the grass face-first.
“Tessa! What the fuck?” Houston roars.
It takes me a moment to realize I’ve been hit in the head with something. I reach up to feel the back of my head, but I’m yanked backward by my hair. The whiplash cracks the joint in my neck, then it’s over as quickly as it began and I’m lying facedown on the grass again.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Houston’s voice sounds panicked, but I can barely hear it over the sound of Skippy and Sparky’s barking.
“Is that her?” a shrill female voice echoes inside my skull. “I knew you were cheating on me!”
“Rory, are you okay?”
I turn my head toward Liam’s voice and Skippy’s tongue sloshes across my nose several times. “I think so.”
“It’s over, Tessa. Let it go.”
Houston’s words make my chest ache as Liam helps me sit up. I can’t help but be reminded of the time Houston whispered those same words in my ear. If anyone knows how this woman feels right now, it’s me. If she didn’t knock me over the head, I might actually empathize with her.
When I’m sitting up, I finally see her. Her blonde shoulder-length hair is as wild as the look in her eyes. She’s breathing heavily, seething with anger as she brandishes a steel thermos in her right hand. I rub the back of my head, wincing at the sharp pain.
Houston is standing like a six-foot-four wall of muscle between me and his wife. He looks back at me over his shoulder, a worried expression in his blue eyes. I gasp loudly when his wife takes a swipe at him with the thermos.
“Watch out!” I scream.
She hits Houston square in the side of his head and he curses as he covers his ear.
“Call 911,” I urge Liam, but he’s already on it.
“Let it go, Tessa,” Houston repeats the phrase, and I finally understand he’s referring to the thermos, not the marriage.
I’m sure he could easily take it away from her, but he probably doesn’t want to be seen in public struggling with a woman. That could easily be misconstrued if a stranger were to stumble upon the scene.
She throws the thermos at Houston’s face and he catches it in his right hand. “It’s all your fault. Everything is your fault!” she shrieks. “I hope you’re happy knowing you killed your baby.”
She takes off running toward the street and Houston drops the thermos onto the grass as he takes off after her. My heart is pounding so hard, my fingers are going numb. I grab Skippy and pull him into my lap so he doesn’t chase after them. And so I can hug him.
“Should I go after them?” Liam asks, holding his phone to his ear in one hand, his other hand clenched around Sparky’s collar so he doesn’t bolt after Houston and Tessa.
I nod as I stand up so I can grab on to both Sparky and Skippy. Liam takes off in the same direction as Houston and Tessa, his phone still pressed to his ear. But seconds later, everything seems to stop. Sound. Time. My heart. Everything.
The sound of tires squealing is followed by a loud crash.
“NO!” Houston roars so loudly, his cry ruptures the silence.
Liam picks up his pace toward Raleigh Street and I let the dogs pull me after him, though I almost don’t want to know what we’ll find. I think I’m going to be sick. But I keep putting one foot in front of the other until we’re at the fence surrounding the dog park. I take the dogs through the gate and they whimper as they try to pull away from me. Their instincts kick in as they sense someone needs their help.
A leaf falls off a large elm tree and flutters across my line of sight. Only then do I realize I’m crying. I move forward slowly toward the space between my Toyota and Liam’s truck. The first thing I see is an Asian woman standing on the sidewalk across the street. She’s covering her mouth and staring wide-eyed at something on the other side of the truck. Skippy, Sparky, and I squeeze through the gap between the vehicles and the scene is laid out before me.