Deciding Tomorrow (30 page)

She narrows her eyes. “What about Brent?”

Cody glowers at his feet, scratching his head.

“Brent’s good, too,” I reply.

Shauna sits back in the sofa, propping a leg over her knee. “You know…” She crosses her arms at her waist. “You and Cody are the worst liars ever.”

“Hey, I’m not a liar,” Cody protests, elbows on his knees. “Where did that come from?”

“No,” Shauna states, “you aren’t a liar because you suck at it…and you know better. You can’t pull that shit on me.” Her head whips in my direction, fiery hair shuffling along her shoulders. “And neither can you, Ruby.”

“I’m not pulling anything,” I insist.

“I’m good,” Shauna mocks. “School’s good. Work’s good. Brent’s good. Let’s just add life is good, too, while we’re at it. I call bullshit.”

“Okay then,” I say with sarcasm. “Glad we figured out that I’m full of shit.”

“I didn’t say that.” Her face softens. “But something’s up.”

“What do you want me to say? Tell you how mundane my life is?”

“I don’t know, but don’t tell us everything is good when it’s obviously not. We’re your family, and we’re here for you. That’s what family does.”

I strum my fingers on the brown upholstery. “I’m just off, that’s all.”

“School or work?” she asks.

“No, those are fine and steady.”

Her eyes dart to Scarlet, who is still sleeping peacefully at her feet. “Is it seeing Scarlet? We never talked about that or what happened—”

“No,” I say in earnest. “I’m happy for you two and even happier that she’s doing so well.”

Cody gauges my expression and then takes Shauna’s hand in his. “Ruby is fine. Leave her alone.”

“Is it Brent?” she asks, completely ignoring Cody. “I know he left, and that must be hard. He was here for so long.”

“Yeah, it’s a little bit of that, I think.”

“But not all of it?”

I turn my attention to Cody, sensing his glare. “It’ll be fine.”

“You two get in a fight or something?” Shauna questions.

“No, not really. It’s nothing.”

Cody shifts his legs, propping one on a knee, and then he switches them around almost immediately. Something is eating at him.

“What, Cody?” I ask full of resolve. “Just get it out. I know you have something you want to say.”

He fingers his hair a few times. “I just had a feeling things wouldn’t be good once he left.”

“Of course you did,” I say. “You’ve had it out for him for years. It’s no secret that you don’t like him.”

“It’s not that I don’t like him.”

“Right,” I drawl, shaking my head.

“I’m serious. You know he and I used to get along just fine before. Actually, when you were in high school and all that shit went down with your dad, that’s when I started to like him. He was there for you. But when the shit really hits the fan, like it did between you two, he just doesn’t seem to know how to man up. Like now, here you are, alone again, and he’s off doing his thing. It’s the same song, same record.”

“This is nothing like that. You and I have said our piece about what went down between Brent and me back then. It’s in the past. I fucked up, and so did he.” I adjust the copper bangle on my wrist, the one Brent gave me for Christmas. “We’ve both had to deal with our decisions.” Underneath the cotton fabric, my fingers connect with the large scar on my left arm. “They left us both scarred.”

“No,” he objects, “it left you scarred.”

“Whatever, Cody.” I flippantly wave my hand. “Besides, Brent does know how to man up, as you put it, when shit hits the fan.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “I almost wish he didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” Shauna ponders, obviously hearing my last words. “What do you wish he didn’t do?”

“Don’t worry about it.” I rise from the seat and retrieve a glass from the cabinet before filling it with water. “You guys want to go and get a bite to eat?”

“Maybe in a little bit,” Shauna says. She shares a quiet word with Cody.

“Hey, Ruby?” Cody calls.

“Yeah?” I circle around, retaking my seat.

“What were you talking about? Before with Brent?”

“It’s nothing. It’s just something that happened while he was in Sweden, and he failed to tell me—that is, until his mother outed him.”

Cody cackles.

“What?” I ask, confused.

“You’re such a hypocrite.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Hey, I got your back, always, but let’s be honest. You weren’t exactly forthcoming with Brent about what happened in Florida until I let that cat out of the bag.”

“Yeah, thanks for that by the way.”

“Oh, you’re welcome. You can cut the guy some slack for not telling you all his little secrets at once. You aren’t exactly known for it yourself.”

“Since when are you on Brent’s side?”

“I’m on no one’s side. I’m just calling it like it is, and maybe you need to look in the mirror about that one. Besides, what kind of trouble could a goodie-goodie like Brent get into? The guy seriously is so freaking straight. Did he lose his cell phone case? Butt dial someone past his bedtime? Forget to pay to get his shoes shined one week?”

“Cody!” Shauna scolds, slapping his bicep. “Stop it. That’s just moronic.”

He rubs his arm at the point of impact. “Really, what was his big secret? Don’t keep me guessing. I could have a field day with this one.” He’s in a good mood, taking fun jabs at Brent. “Does this have anything to do with getting his hair gel stuck on his cleats? He should know not to comb his hair with his shoes, right?”

“You’re ridiculous,” I mock.

“Tell me. I need to know before I start on bubble gum and beer pong.”

We stare at each other, him waiting for me to budge.

He lifts his brows. “Forget to wax his car?”

“Are you done yet?”

“No, but I’ll shut up if you tell us.”

“I guess I can tell you. It’s not a secret,” I say, focusing on my lap. “If you dig deep enough, you can find the details about it online. There’s not much because he was just starting out, but it’s there. I just didn’t search hard enough before.”

“What is it?” Shauna gently asks, scooting to the edge of the sofa. “Is it something really bad?”

“No, I guess not, but I still can’t believe he did it.”

Shauna and Cody wait, patient and attentive.

“There was a girl…I guess many actually based on what I found. Brent created quite a reputation for himself over there.”

“What kind of reputation?” Cody questions.

“The kind where people know you like to hang out in women’s beds.”

“So, he slept with a few chicks?” he asks.

“I get the feeling that it was a little more than a few.”

“Oh, Ruby,” Shauna consoles. “That must be hard to hear about.” She places her palm on Cody’s knee. “But we all have a past, and we all make bad choices.”

“It’s just…” I sigh. “It’s not just that though.”

“What is it?” Shauna pushes.

“Is he still dating one?” Cody asks, accusatory.

“No, nothing like that. I think I’m the first person he’s been with in a long time, maybe even since he came back to the States.”

“Why would you say that?” Shauna ponders.

“Because of what happened.” I glare at Cody. “I have a feeling you aren’t going to like him much at all once I tell you.”

“He knocked someone up, didn’t he?”

“No, but it seemed that way.” My forefinger drifts back and forth along the Latin phrase engraved on my bracelet. “And Brent didn’t deny it.”

Like reciting a script, I continue on and share everything about Brent, Christina, the baby that ended up not being his, and his part in their lives. Every word comes off my lips, releasing my jealousy and longing that has been bubbling inside and waiting to burst.

When I’m finished telling them all I know, I tuck my feet under my legs and wait for Cody’s reaction.

“I don’t understand the problem,” Cody states, sitting back against the cushion.

“What?” I ask, surprised. “That’s all you have to say? No Brent’s an idiot, or how could he?”

“Well, fucking around with a shitload of girls isn’t exactly the most admirable thing a guy can do, but”—he snickers—“he’s not the first one to do it.”

Shauna elbows him. “Not helping.”

“Ow. Hey, it’s the truth though.”

“But what about Christina?” I muse, still astonished by his lack of anger. “Don’t you think it’s a little weird he would blindly take care of them like that?”

“Actually”—Cody focuses on Scarlet—“I think I like him better because he did do that. I might have underestimated him.”

“What?”

His expression softens. There’s content devotion in his eyes, like Scarlet claims him and his decisions. The small sleeping being, innocent and pure, holds so much power over the beast that is my cousin.

“It takes a lot to take care of a family,” he continues. “Most guys would run away from something like that, but Brent didn’t. I think you’re looking at this all wrong.”

“How so?”

“What Cody’s trying to say,” Shauna interrupts, taking his hand in hers, “is that instead of focusing on the fact that it wasn’t you, maybe you should see how much of a man Brent really is.”

“He is a good man,” I reply. “I’ve always known that.”

“Then, that’s all that matters.”

She’s right. It really is.

THIRTY-SEVEN

Tidying up my section in the restaurant, I get ready to check out for the evening. It’s been a long, busy Saturday night full of overly demanding patrons.
It must be the weather.
It’s been dismally cold over the past few days.

Now, we’re closed, and I’m ready to go home, but I’m not sure why. There’s no urgency to be home or to leave here. It’s more just a feeling that I need to take the next step. Every day has a checklist of events, and I’m marking them off, hoping to escalate to the next day. No day is different from the last. They all run together without much purpose.

Venturing to a bussing station on the side of the restaurant dining room, I once again review the text between Brent and me from this afternoon. We spoke this morning, but as his training camp is getting more intense, our moments to actually talk have been dwindling. We seem to be texting more than anything. Our relationship has been minimized to words on a screen, and the human part of us is getting harder to find with each passing day.

Tonight is his team’s first friendly game, a scrimmage against Portland, in L.A. I can’t even watch him play since it’s not being televised here, making him feel even farther away. So, I rely on the only communication we have—digital letters on a phone. It’s all I have of him.

Brent: I’ll be in Mexico City on Tuesday, and then we play away next weekend. Maybe you can come out after that?

Me: I think that will work.

Brent: Call me tomorrow, and let me know.

Me: Will do. Good luck tonight.

Brent: Thanks. Love you, and miss you.

Me: I love you, too.

We’re in different cities, separated by thousands of miles. A couple living apart never grows because they live in a realm of postponement, stuck in that last interaction.

My life can currently be separated into two categories—one, the space in time where my heart flutters out of contentment and love, and two, those moments devoid of the one person who can make everything feel right with his presence.

The hours pass by vacantly without him, yet time stands still because only the time with him is worth counting.

After seeing Cody and Shauna, I realized how ridiculous I was being. My love for Brent was never a question, but the nudge toward acceptance and even more so understanding how wonderful Brent is became apparent. He truly is a man of strength and character. But with him leaving on a sour note, even with phone conversations, we aren’t in a solid place like we once were. So, I wait until we’re able to see one another once again, and I hope that the sight of his face, the feel of his hand, and the taste of his lips on mine will allow any lingering tension to dissipate.

I shove away my phone and touch base with the closing server, so he can review my section. Once he gives the approval for me to go, I tuck my hands into my apron pockets and tread slowly toward the kitchen. There’s no rush to be anywhere. There’s no rush to do anything.

“Hey, Ruby,” Carl calls as I pass the lounge entrance. He waves me over to the nearly empty bar. “Look at what’s on.”

Curious, I step in to see what all the fuss is about and sidle up against the granite.

“They’re showing clips from tonight’s friendly,” he says, tilting his head toward the flat screen.

On the television on the wall above the glass shelving filled with bottles of spirits, fast segments of soccer players running along the field and making plays are being shown in succession.

“I didn’t think it was being televised here,” I say, leaning over the partition.

“It wasn’t, but they’re showing highlights now.”

Together, Carl and I silently watch the clips from the evening’s soccer scrimmages, one after the next, touching on plays and final scores. The final match is Brent’s team.

The station highlights several plays with him at the forefront and commentary including catch phrases like, “player to keep an eye on,” “high scorer,” and “league commodity.”

The sight of his body in motion is nothing short of spectacular. He emulates speed, grace, and lightning fast reflexes. It’s easy to see, even for someone like me who hasn’t followed the sport in years, that Brent dominates on the field.

“He’s really fast,” Carl comments, entranced.

“It looks that way.”

The program cuts away to dual newscaster commentary where they state that Brent’s team will likely be the leader for the season based on the first round of friendlies, but there’s still time for improvement for other teams before the season starts.