186 Miles (3 page)

“Um,
I don’t know… like in a couple of weeks?”

“Well,
what about the fourth of July?  That’s just three weeks away and we’re having a
party.  Well, it’s kind of a party.  It’s like a neighbor barbecue thing or
whatever, but it should be fun.  Jack will be there.  You should come.  Stay
with us.” 

He
was talking
way
too fast. 
Was he nervous?

“That
sounds fun.  I’ll check my schedule and I’ll text you this week.”

“Please
come.  Don’t let me being an
almost
dick make you change your mind. 
Jack would love to see you.”

“Alright. 
I’ll see what’s up.”

He
gave me one tight, quick squeeze and exclaimed, “Fourth of July!”

I
did a fist pump.  “Fourth of July!”  It came out strained.

He
looked crushed.  He thought this was the last time we would see each other. 
His eyes were easy to read, even behind his big, clunky glasses.

“Drive
safe, Vince.  I’ll miss you.” 

I’ll
miss you?  What?  Go in the fucking house, Rachel
.

His
face got brighter.  “I’ll text you tonight.”

*

Three
weeks flew by.  I received at least a few texts every day from Vince. 

He
also filled my Facebook account with private messages and pictures of himself
out and about in town.  One in front of Shubas.  One in front of Alliance
Bakery (you
bastard
!).  A few inside of his apartment.

He
was showing me his life.  I couldn’t wait to visit. 

I
took off Friday after work and pulled up at his apartment just after 8.  He was
sitting on the front stoop, smoking a cigarette.

“Capri?”

“Oh,
God, I can’t believe you remembered my brand.”  I scoffed at him.

He
tossed a Camel at me and I took a seat next to him on the steps.  I placed my
bag at my feet.  He put his arm around me.  My head rested on his shoulder.

I
heard the door slam behind us.  “Rayyy-chel!”  Jack wailed in a sing-song
voice.

“Jack!”
 I popped up and swung an arm around his waist.  He squeezed me and said “You. 
Drink.  Now!”

Alright,
I guess we were drinking.

I
knew I should call Elsa.  Here I was, a few miles away.  I couldn’t explain
Vince just yet…
another time.

Vince
grabbed my bag and brought it up the stairs.  His apartment was big for the
city.  My old apartment in Bucktown was almost a thousand dollars a month and
it was half the size.  I couldn’t imagine what he must be paying.  He gave me a
quick tour.  Living room, kitchen, bathroom, his room, Jeremy’s room.  Jeremy
was “the roommate.”

Jeremy
was really tall.  And hot.  Like… crazy hot.  Shaved head, sleeves of tattoos. 
Lean, muscular body.  I knew this because he wore next to nothing.  Just
shorts.  No shirt, no shoes.  Just sitting on a couch, drinking a pint and
basking in his hotness.

“Jeremy,
this is my friend Rachel.”  Vince looked decidedly uncomfortable.

“Hey,
friend Rachel.” 
Oh my God, was he British?  Fuck.

“Hi,”
I whispered back.  My voice automatically slipped into Kathleen Turner
territory.  I knew that Vince picked up on it.

“Hey,
Rachel… let’s go get coffee, yeah?”

“I
just
got
here.”

“Yeah,
she just got here.” 
Yeah, definitely British.
  Maybe we
should
go get coffee.  Or an ice bath.

“Alright,
then do you want to go to the patio with me and Jack?  Catch up?”

“Sure. 
I missed you guys.”  I did. 
So much.

I
glanced back at Jeremy on the couch.  He was staring a hole through me.  I
don’t know if this was some sort of pissing contest, but I needed the discomfort
to end.

*

Vince,
Jack and I talked until almost three in the morning.  I missed this.  The last three
weeks had been sort of lonely. 

Jack
got up and grabbed his keys.  “I’m out, brotha.”

“You’re
leaving?”  I wasn’t sure I was ready to be alone with Vince just yet.

“Big
day of drinking tomorrow.  I need my beauty sleep.”  He patted his flat belly
with a thump.

“See
you tomorrow.”  I got up and squeezed into his side.  He kissed me on the top
of my head.  I noticed that he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring any longer, but
I hadn’t asked about that.

Vince
stood and pulled Jack into some sort of hug-slash-handshake and smacked him hard
on the back.  “Tomorrow, little bro.”

After
Jack left, I yawned and stood.  “Guess it’s time to hit it.  Where should I
be?”

“You
can just sleep with me.”  There was a long pause.  Smiling, he said, “Not like
that
,
honey.  Who do you think I
am
?”

“I
can just crash on the couch.  It’s not a big deal.”

“The
bed is huge.  You won’t even know I’m there.  I don’t want you to sleep on that
couch.  Lord knows what Jeremy has done on it.” 
Ooof.
 
Lord knows.

I
decided not to argue.  I was tired.  I grabbed my bag and headed to the
bathroom.  “Towel?”

He
threw one at me.  “And I got some of that soap you use.”

I
smiled.  “Aw, I was looking forward to keepin it old school.  Irish Spring!”

“Well,
there’s that too.”  He pulled some folded sheets from a laundry basket and
started to make up our bed. 
Our bed. 
Gah.

After
washing my face and brushing my teeth, I dug around in my bag for clothes to
wear to bed.  Already, I was regretting my decision on what I had packed.  I
had a white tank top and light pink cotton shorts.  They were
short.
 When
I packed, they seemed the most unattractive choice of my sleepwear.  At home,
Ryan liked me to wear lingerie.  He bought me tons of it.  Since I couldn’t
wear that with Vince, I chose those stupid shorts.  I pulled at them, but that
only made my midriff show.  Not to mention that my tank top did very little to
hide my headlights.  
Ugh.
  I automatically crossed my arms over my
chest. 

Damn
it, Rachel.  Make better choices next time! 

I
turned off the light and headed towards Vince’s room.  He was already in bed. 
No shirt.

Fuck,
fuck, fuck, fuck.

I
climbed in and faced the door.  “Goodnight.”

I
felt his fingertips trace the tattoo on my back.  “Whoa, woman, why haven’t I
seen this?” 

It
was a tree.  Thin, delicate branches spanned the width of my shoulder blades. 
The trunk, heavy with roots, ended just under the band of my shorts.  It took
four sessions.  Painful, but worth it.

“I
don’t know.  I was wearing something that covered it last time, I guess.”

“Good
God, how far down does this thing
go
?”  He pulled at my tank.

“Good
night
,
Vince.”  I smiled towards the door, closing my eyes.

I
heard him inwardly growl and click the light switch.  “Night, Punk Rock Girl.”

*

Vince
took me everywhere on Saturday.  The building party was that night, so we
shopped.  Food, alcohol, string lights.  We spent much of the day back and forth
to the apartment.  We hung lights, we set out metal tubs, we talked and
laughed.
 A lot
. 

The
night came too fast.  I wasn’t done being alone with Vince.  I knew that once
his friends showed, he wouldn’t have as much time to spend with me.  It was 6 pm
when the first guests arrived.

“I
promise I won’t leave you.” 

“It’s
fine, Vince.  I’ll meet people.  And I already know Jack and Jeremy.”  That
last part stung.  I could see his face visibly change when I mentioned his
roommate.

“Well,
I won’t leave you, so it’s a moot point.”

“You
said moot.”  I smiled at him.

He
started to make his way to the door after hearing the bell.  He gave me a soft
swat on my backside as he walked past.

Oh.
My. God.

Vince
had
a lot
of friends.  Before long, the patio was filled with people and
music.  I sipped a drink and tried to fit in.  I talked to Jack a bit, but he
also knew most everyone, so it was difficult for me.  I was typically shy at
these things.

I
took a seat in a metal rocking chair near the gate.  I set my beer on the side
table and fished in my pocket for a cigarette.  Jeremy came and sat next to me.

“Can
I get one of those?”

“Yeah,
sure.   I keep meaning to quit, but I just can’t.” 
Oh God, I was
blabbering.

“Eh,
I only smoke when I drink.  So, I end up smoking a lot.” 
That accent was
going to kill me.

I
smiled and handed him the lighter.

“So,”
he continued, “I hear you lost your husband.  That sucks, right?”

“Right
you are.”  I tried to lighten the mood with my flip comment.

“And
that’s how you met these guys?”

“Yep. 
They stayed and helped with stuff at my house for a few days after the
funeral.”

“Well,
that seems… generous.”  He paused. 
What did that mean? 
I ignored his
remark.  It seemed cold; I was suddenly uncomfortable.

“Wanna
do a shot?” 

“Oh,
no.  That’s okay.  I’m not very good with shots.”  I wasn’t lying.  I did two
shots last year at our friend’s wedding and Ryan had to carry me into the
house.

“Ah,
come on, lady.  One shot.”  Jeremy started to reach for a bottle hidden in the
planter next to us.  “Secret stash.”

Jagermeister. 
Goddamn it.  My Kryptonite.

“One. 
That’s it.”  I caved.

“Atta
girl.”  He poured us two shots.  “What do we drink to?”

“Um,
Fourth of July?”

Jeremy
barked, “Ah, yeah!  Independence!” He tossed back the brown liquid.

I
took mine and sipped it like a princess.

“No
wonder you’re no good with shots.  You just gotta spike it.  Go on then!”

I
“spiked” it and winced.

As
soon as I put the glass down, I looked up.  Vince was at the next table.  His soft
brown eyes were glued to mine.  I wanted to look away, but I didn’t.  I just
stared back.  Finally, he came over.

“Hey,
pretty.” 
Yes, definitely a pissing contest.

Jeremy
stood.  “Well, I’ll let you two have at it.  Later, lovely.”   Vince sat down
in his now empty spot.

“Sorry
to leave you.  I got all caught up with these people.  I’d rather be with you
though.”  He laid his hand on top of mine and gave a gentle squeeze.  Just as
soon, he pulled it away.