Between Black and Sunshine (21 page)

Every morning I wake up in Clara’s bed, in a pair of Clara’s silk pajamas with her arm splayed over my stomach and her sleeping peacefully next to me, and I tell myself I have to go. Or I have to tell her the truth. But every morning she wakes up and smiles at me like she really cares about me. Like she really wants me here.

And I want someone,
I need someone,
to want me and care about me.

I don’t even ask her about Luca anymore. She left me once for an hour to go see him and she talks to him every day, always leaving the room so she can talk to him in private. I think she’s trying to shelter me from her loving relationship.

I know it’s insane- what I’m doing. I know if the voices were still living in my head that they would tell me how insane I am. But they’re not there. For three days my mind has been blissfully quiet. I tell myself this is part of the reason I stay too. If she’s with me then she’s not with him and I don’t have to live in the delusional world I’ve created where I stand in a corner and watch them live their perfect life.

“One more,” Clara says through her laughter as she walks out of the backroom to the counter where I’m helping her divvy up the week’s sales.

I look at the dress she’s holding up which is really just a flimsy piece of fabric held together by what looks to be chain link. “I’m not putting that on. What is that even supposed to be?”

She laughs again, hysterically this time. “A dress? I’m not quite sure. It was in the box Jerry dropped off earlier. If he thinks I’m putting this on a hanger to be sold, he’s crazy. But I want to see it on you.”

“No,” I tell her. I’ve been helping her in the store today and she’s been making me try on all kinds of uncomfortable dresses and shirts and skirts in order to entertain herself. Some of them have been way too short and tight but I put them on anyway, but if I put that thing on I will no longer be able to convince myself that she doesn’t have ulterior motives.

“Fine,” she says, coming to my side and leaning against me, holding the thing up so we’re both looking at it. “You want me to try it on for you?” she says in a flirty whisper.

Casually, I lean away from her and force myself to laugh like I think she’s joking, but I don’t. I don’t get it. She’s with Luca. So I don’t understand why she’s letting me stay here – giving all her time to me. I don’t understand her touches or the way she kisses me gently on my lips. I’ve really only had two real girl friends in my life – Callie and Piper, so I’m not an expert in the friend department but the way she touches me and pecks me on the lips before we fall asleep next to each other is not normal friend behavior. I’m pretty damn sure. “I don’t want to see that on anyone. You should put it back in the box.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “You’d be surprised what kinds of things people are into, Blanca. I think this dress could be pretty sexy… on the right body.”

She lifts her eyebrows and I turn away from her.

“Fine,” she says with a laugh. “It’s time to close up anyway.”

I take a deep breath and close down the spreadsheet on the computer while she locks up.

“I’m starving,” she says as we head up to her apartment. “You want to order in Japanese?”

“Sure,” I tell her as I take a seat on her sofa and she heads into the kitchen for a bottle of wine and our glasses. She’s in there for longer than usual. I can hear her on the phone ordering our food and then she tells me she’s going to change and get cleaned up.

I hate being alone here. Even if it’s only for a few minutes. That’s all it takes for me to start thinking about Luca. To start missing him and wanting desperately to start asking Clara about him. My mind immediately starts picturing them here together and the depression starts to creep back in.

“Hey,” I hear her say as her hand runs over my leg. I didn’t even realize she was sitting next to me. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

“Yeah,” I whisper, forcing a smile.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” she says and I can hear the genuine concern in her voice.

I obviously don’t talk about Luca with her, but I manage to nod my head.

“You know you can talk to me. You don’t have to feel embarrassed about whatever happened.”

I nod at her again.

“Did he hurt you?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say, my voice shaking. I haven’t talked about Luca with anyone, not even Piper.

“What happened?” she whispers.

“I don’t know. I thought we were happy. I really thought he loved me. But then I found out that he was with someone else. That he was cheating on her with me.”

“Hmm,” she says, like
of course that’s what happened. What else would you expect, you young, stupid version of me.
“Sometimes I think there isn’t one decent guy in this world.”

“But what about you? What about you and…Luca?”

“Yeah, he is decent. More than decent. He’s a great friend, but when we tried the whole relationship thing he turned out to be an asshole, just like the rest of them.”

Before I have a chance to process her words there is a ringing at the door. “Thank god, I’m famished,” she says, leaning in to kiss the corner of my mouth before standing. “I have to run down and get that, it’ll just take a minute.”

She’s gone and I’m trying to decide if I heard her clearly.
When we tried he turned out to be an asshole.
Is that what she said? What does that mean? I’m waiting anxiously, now, for her to return.

She opens the door, both hands holding white, plastic bags. I wait until she has them set down on the coffee table before asking, “You’re not with him anymore?”

She pauses from her task of unloading containers to look at me like she has no idea what I’m talking about. “Luca?”

“Yes, Luca.”

“God, no. That was so long ago. That was the last time I ever tried having anything more than casual sex with a man. He was the one who put me off of love… with men… forever. Talk about one fucked up asshole. Don’t get me wrong, I love him to death, but god was he a shitty partner.”

Are we talking about the same man? The man who made my world an absolute utopian dream for a week? What did he do to her?

“What do you want sweetie? Edamame, tempura? You like sushi right, you want some of everything?”

“Sure,” I manage to say. She hands me a plate and sets a glass of wine in front of me before joining me on the couch again; she curls up her legs so they are resting against mine. “What did he do to you?”

“Humph,” she utters a sound of disbelief. “Where do I start? First of all, you have to meet the guy to understand why the hell I let him into my life in the first place. He’s by far the most gorgeous specimen of man I have ever seen. I thought, if I can love again, it will be with this man. He started showing up at a bar that I hang out at and I noticed him right away- you would have to be blind not to. He noticed me too, I could feel him watching me but he never tried to talk to me. Then one night he practically dragged me out of there without so much as a, ‘what’s your name,’ although he already knew my name. He was, still is, living with my friend Rake.” She pauses to take another sip of her wine and to let out a long breath.

“Back then I was living in this shitty studio off of seventh, he insisted we go to my place and I was more than okay with that. That first night was great, well not all of it, but the sex was great. He was sweet and tender. He spent hours, it felt like, memorizing my body. The best sex I’ve ever had. But he was muttering something the whole time he was with me. I couldn’t make the word out and honestly I didn’t really give a shit what he was saying, but then he told me he loved me. When I asked him what the hell he was talking about he told me, I remember it like it was yesterday, ‘I’m sorry it’s just… Jude.’ I realized he was saying someone else’s name the whole time he was with me, like he didn’t even see me.”

My heart is racing, my stomach is churning. I set my plate down with shaking hands.

“You okay?”

“Yes, go on.”

“There’s not much to say, really. I mean, I should have kicked him out right then but seriously, you have to meet him to understand why I didn’t. I wanted it to work so badly that I told myself it was fine- he could pretend I was someone else and maybe I could be someone else and not the beat-down, divorced, bitter woman I was. I would be who he wanted me to be and maybe one day he would end up loving me. That lasted for about a week. You could just tell it was torture for him; being with me, trying to act like he cared about me, when clearly it was someone else he wanted. I was mad… furious… when he told me he couldn’t do it anymore. That he couldn’t attempt the relationship thing with me or anyone. I fought him though; I tried to convince him that we could work. There was a lot of back and forth. He didn’t want to hurt me, he wanted to be able to care about me, but he just didn’t. In the end we ended up becoming friends. And it wasn’t just me- he’s never been with anyone. I guess that’s some kind of consolation.” She lets out a sad laugh then takes a large gulp of her wine.

I can’t look at Clara, I’m afraid to move even. I want her words to be true and I feel like if I move this dream will be shattered. “He’s never been with anyone?”

“No. There’s some girl from back home - it’s Jude,” she tells me, raising her eyebrows. “He never brought her up besides that first night. But then the other week, the night of my store opening, he told me she was here, he called her ‘his girl’, he barely said ‘hi’ before rushing out to go get her. Apparently it’s always been her. But poor Luca, he managed to fuck that one up too. Luca has some issues, big ones, and he ended up hurting her.”

Tears fall slowly down my face. This moment, on her couch, listening to her tell me about myself, about how Luca has always loved me; that it’s always been me, feels unreal. Can it be real? Did he come for me that night? Did I misunderstand when I saw them together? Were they embracing as friends, did he even kiss her? Did I actually see him do that? Could all of this have been prevented if I would have just watched them instead of turning and running out of the store, falling and busting my leg open, healing on Anthon’s couch, my leg resting on his lap? Could I have prevented what happened to Anton?

A loud cry bursts out of my chest and into the air; the room is suddenly filled with my sobs.

“Blanca? Blanca, what’s wrong?” Clara has me wrapped up in her arms and I cry big, wet tears into her chest. “It’s okay,” she whispers, soothing me, rubbing her hand over my hair. “You’ll be okay. You’ll move on. You’ll find someone to love you. There are good people out there, sweetie. People who know what you’ve been through. People who want to make you feel good, not hurt you. It’s okay, Blanca. I’m here… I’m here for you.” She curls me up into her arms and lays us down on the couch. I fit my small body into her small body and let her sooth me. I let her rub my back and kiss my hair. I hurt for her and for Luca and Piper and Anton. All of the people I have hurt. I let her love me and hold me and I don’t tell her what an awful person I am.

My hands shake as I try to keep my truck on the road. It’s been an intense couple of days. My mind is one hundred percent occupied with Jude but it’s a problem that I don’t have a solution for yet, so I’m trying to clean up my other messes until I find the courage to face her. I can’t stand the image of her looking at me with hate in her eyes. I don’t want to hear her say that she cannot forgive me; that she never wants to see me again.

My first non-Jude mess was Miles. He wouldn’t pick up my calls so Rake finally had to do my dirty work for me. He somehow convinced Miles to meet me and Rake at Daddy O’s; the diner down on sixth. He sat as far away from me as possible in the small booth and wouldn’t look me in the eyes.

I told him that I had been seeing a psychiatrist almost every day and that I was bipolar. It’s still difficult to think that word, much less say it. But I did, because I want Miles to understand that I know I fucked up and I’m trying to get better. I told him that I was on medication and that every minute of my life was spent trying to get better.

That’s great,
he told me,
I’m glad you’re doing so great. That your life is going so well for you.
My life’s not going so well, but I got his point- I don’t deserve to get better and at least I’m not Anton.

I apologized for all the shitty things I have ever done to him, and I meant it. But he just nodded and refused to look at me. I hope the guy can forgive me someday, but I’m not holding my breath.

Considering how things went with Miles, I don’t have very high hopes for today, in fact I’m scared shitless. But when I called Anton, prepared for him to hang up as soon as I told him who I was, and he ended up telling me that he would like to talk to me too, I was shocked, to say the least. I didn’t really want to do it at his house, where I beat the shit out of him, but I wasn’t going to argue when he suggested that I come see him.

As shitty as this is, I’m still holding onto some anger towards the guy for being with Jude. Clara’s been hung up with her new
friend
Blanca and hasn’t been back to visit Anton so I don’t know what the deal is. I suppose there is a chance Jude will be sitting next to him on the couch when I walk in… holding his hand, there to support her man.

I have a strong sense of déjà vu as I walk up to the front door with just a screen separating his air from my own. I knock and he says, “Come in, it’s open,” just like before.

I really don’t want to do this.

I open the door and make my way to the living room. I know that Anton’s on the couch, same as before. I can see him in my peripheral vision; I can also see that he’s alone. But I can’t look at him yet. I’m staring at the carpet where there is a faint, rust-colored stain. When I realize it’s blood- blood that I spilled from his body, I gag.

“Oh, shit. You aright man?” Anton stands but doesn’t come to me.

“Jesus,” I say, still not looking at him. “How the hell can you stand to have me here, after what I did to you?” I make myself look at him now- at the bruises that have not healed, at the bandage near his right eye, at his expressions that seem lack-luster and look like they take some effort.

“Well, I’m not thrilled about it, to be honest. I really don’t like you for what you did to Jude.”

Oh shit, here we go. “Listen, Anton, I have some things I need to say to you, I just… would you mind if I just say them first, before we talk about Jude?”

He lets out a long breath and takes a seat on the couch. “Go ahead,” he tells me.

“I’m sorry, for what I did to you. When I came here that day I was just trying to find Jude. I figured I’d find her here and I thought I was prepared for that. I thought I had gotten all my anger out before I came to your house. But I guess seeing you two together in real life wasn’t something I could prepare for...”

“Luca, can I just…”

“Hold on man, please. I’m almost done. I’ve gotten help since I attacked you. I’m not cured or anything. I mean, what I have can’t be cured – I’m bipolar. I was having a manic episode when I attacked you I was blacked-out. I don’t remember it. But I’m on medication now. I see my psychiatrist almost every day. I’m trying, man, to get better so that what I did to you never happens again. I’m sorry as hell that I did it to you. No one deserves that. You should have pressed charges. You must be one hell of a decent guy to have not done that. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I just want to let you know how sorry I am… for what I did to both of you.”

“I don’t know what to say to you, Luca. I don’t know you, I’m sure you’re a decent guy. Clara seems to really like you and I know that Jude loved you once, too.”

The fact that he said
loved you once
, does not escape me.

“I’ll heal… I’ll be fine. I get that you didn’t realize what you were doing to me or Jude… that must be awful to lose control of yourself and not remember what you’ve done.” He shakes his head like
he
feels sorry for
me.
“I’m not a grudge holder, at least when it comes to myself. I forgive you, for what you did to me.”

“Thanks, Anton. Seriously, you’re a good guy; I can’t say that I’d do the same. And I’ll take care of your medical bills… I’ll have your carpet replaced.”

“They’re coming on Wednesday; I’ll send you the bill.”

“Okay. That would make me feel a little better.”

“Would you mind sitting down? You’re making me a little uncomfortable.”

I sit my ass down in the distressed leather club chair facing him. I take a deep breath knowing that the conversation about Jude is coming. He’s going to tell me she would like me to stay out of her life- away from her and Anton. And he’s going to do it with a look of pity on his face.

“Have you talked to Jude?” he asks, his tone even, not condescending.

“No, of course not. You should know that.”

“Why should I know that?”

Is he just being a prick? Does he need to hear me say the words? “Because you’re with her.”

He cocks his head and furrows his brows. “You still think that? I mean, I figured that’s what you believed when you beat the shit out of me, but… no one’s straightened that out for you yet?”

“What?” I ask, confused.

“I was never with her, obviously. I mean, she was with you. I’m fairly sure the only strong emotion she ever felt for me was disgust when I hit on her in class. It was never like that with the two of us.”

“What the hell? Then why wouldn’t she talk to me?  Why the hell was she here all cozy with you on the couch?”

“Jesus. No one’s explained anything to you?”

“No,” I want to yell the word at him, but I don’t want to get angry in front of Anton.

“That night… at Clara’s store opening.”

“Yeah,” I say, impatiently.

“Jude saw you there with Clara. Piper said Clara told them she had to go to her man and then she and Jude saw the two of you in the back corner. Piper said you were holding her and about to kiss her. That’s when Jude ran out of the store and… bit it on the street.” Anton cringes when he says these last words. “She fucked her leg up pretty bad. It was cut down to the bone, but she has a serious aversion to hospitals so I had to try fix it myself. That’s why she was here. Piper and I were taking care of her and her leg – both things were a mess.”

My body is vibrating. There are a million words running through my brain, but I can’t say them. Not until I get my body under control. I put my head in my hands and take a few deep breaths.

“Oh yeah, the reason you couldn’t get a hold of her is because she threw her purse against the wall outside of Clara’s store and smashed it. It’s driving Piper mad. That’s part of the reason I agreed to meet with you. Do you have another number for her? Piper’s ready to hire a private investigator.”

I look up at him now, completely confused. “What do you mean, another number? Can’t she just walk down the hall and talk to her?”

“No, man. Jude dropped out. Left Portland and went back home. Piper’s worried to death because her stepdad is apparently abusive? Piper’s tried every Jones within fifty miles of Mason City, but none of them are Jude’s house.”

His words sound like they are coated in mud, I can barely hear them. She went home? To fucking, Arnie? My skin is becoming hot, I can feel my heart rate rising, my breath’s quickening, my vision becoming blurry.
Hold it together, hold it together, you’re at Anton’s house, you have to help Jude, hold it together.

“The number would have been under Headstrom, Arnie Headstrom,” I whisper, pulling out my phone.

“Ah, makes sense,” Anton says.

I dial the number to Arnie and Patsy’s house. It rings four times before Patsy finally picks up.

“Hello?” She sounds as loopy as ever.

“Is Jude there?”

“Luca, is that you?”

“Yes, Patsy, it’s me.”

“How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” I say, losing my patience, “Is Jude there?”

“Well, no. She’s in Portland, at school.”

“She hasn’t been home at all?”

“No, not since she left. What’s going on?”

“Thanks, Patsy,” I say hanging up the phone. “She’s not there,” I tell Anton. “She hasn’t been home.”

Think Luca, fucking think. Where would she go?
“When did she leave, how long has she been gone for?”

“It’s been a couple of weeks, I think.”

Fuck.
I go back to my phone again and scroll through my contacts and find Callie’s name.

She picks up almost immediately, “Luca?”

“Hey, Callie.”

“What’s going on?” she sounds panicked already.

“Have you talked to Jude recently?”

“Oh, god. What happened? I knew something was wrong. She hasn’t picked up her phone in weeks… the last few times I talked to her she was so caught up in you and your little studio that I could barely get her attention… I just figured she was… preoccupied.”

“The studio…”

“What? What happened, Luca? Is she okay?”

“I don’t know, Callie. I’ll call you back.”

“Luca, don’t…”

I hang up on her while standing and heading out the door.
The studio
.

“Hey, where are you going?” Anton yells after me.

“I think I know where Jude is… I’ll call you when I find her…”