False Start (Love and Skate) (10 page)

“Yes. Thank you for everything.”

              “Anytime.”

             
I bolted.

             
I ran out of there like the chicken-shit jackass that I was.

             
How did one date turn into me thinking about her all the time and wondering what she approved of?

             
The only relationship I’d been witness to, except for the brothers, was where one partner was driven down into the ground on a daily basis, sometimes so deeply that not even love could throw her the rope she needed to climb out. Love was the rope that hung her. The noose around her neck was my dad and her constant need to take care of him. And it drove her to misery.

             
But it wasn’t me I worried about. It was her. I didn’t want her to feel stuck to a social hermit. I didn’t want the sludge of my poisonous dreams and anti-people tendencies to get in the way of her life.

             
God, she was perfect.

             
So effing perfect.

              I got home and showered. I laid in my bed later, just some pajama pants and a scowl. This empty space, the one I lay in and the one in my head—it was fickle and fine at once. I loathed the emptiness of the life with my father had caused me, everything all seconds of the day magnetically revolving around what he needed, what he was yelling, his meds, the locks on the doors. And though that part of me still raged for him to shut up, there was another part which felt completely guilty for feeling relieved by his death. When I came home that night, not even fifteen minutes both ways to the grocery store, and he was gone—I was relieved. What kind of person is relieved to think his father is dead?

             
A twisted bastard.

             
My phone buzzed, it was on vibrate.

             
I ignored it. Sometimes that was what I needed. Instead of continuing to fend off the thoughts of him, once in a while it was best to just let them flow, just roll around knowing there was cactus in those memories.

             
Minutes passed and the phone buzzed again. I picked it up and turned it off without even looking at the screen. After a few hours of tossing and turning I got up, threw on some jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie, hopped in my truck and drove to the riverfront. It wasn’t the safest place to be at night in New Orleans, but I needed the fresh air and I thought that maybe wearing myself out would work. I stopped at one of the piers and sat on the edge, legs dangling. I’d turned my phone back on in case I needed to dial 911. You never knew around the French Quarter.

             
It beeped again. I thought seriously about throwing it off the pier. Checking the missed calls and texts, there were three calls from Mad and one text from Hayes. It was the most recent. I hoped she was okay, texting me at two a.m.

             
Me: I’m awake. What’s up?

             
Hayes: What are you doing? Can’t sleep.

             
Me: Sitting on a pier on the riverfront.

             
Hayes: Which one?

             
Me: Behind Jax Brewery.

              She didn’t answer.

             
I let the cool air clamber through the negative spaces in me. If only my bed were outdoors or over a body of water.

             
“Hey.”

             
It turned around almost breaking my own neck.

             
“What are you doing here?” I barked at her. She just smiled and sat beside me, immune to my grumble.

             
“You said you were here. I remembered that it was a free country and came over.”             

             
“It’s dangerous out here.”

             
She shrugged and sat beside me, very close beside me, her thighs and legs lined up next to mine.

             
“Do you come here often,” she lowered the pitch of her voice.

             
“Hell yeah, two a.m. in a shady part of town? Best place to pick up girls.”

             
She laughed and nudged me with her shoulder.

             
“All this time, I thought it was the place to pick up hot guys.”

             
“Well, don’t let me get in your way.”

             
“You already know I think you’re hot. Don’t deny the infamous phone call now.”

             
“Are you kidding me? I recorded that call.”

             
“I’m sure you did.”

             
I looked out on the water. I guessed it was my turn to say something to her.

             
“I’ve watched you for a while at the bouts and stuff. I’ve always thought you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

             
That didn’t sound creepy at all, Rex. Good job, buddy.

             
Asshat.

             
“I know.”

             
“You know what?”

             
“You’ve been watching me. I may have been watching you too.”

             
“We’re just a bunch of stalkers, aren’t we?”

             
“Yep,” she squirmed next to me, “You left pretty quickly after I mentioned my parents. We don’t have to go. I mean,
you
don’t. I always go.”

             
Yep, I’m a jerkface.

             
“No, I want to. I won’t lie, you’ll probably dump me after I say something inappropriate, but if it’s important to you, then I’ll go.”

             
Looking at her next to me, she wore jeans, and a white almost see through shirt—and it was cold outside. One side of the shirt hung off her shoulders revealing a pale pink bra strap, decorated with lace. It made her shoulder look like a present begging for me to pull the ends of the bow and unwrap it.

             
“You must be freezing. Here,” I pulled my hoodie over my head and offered it to her. She took it and pulled it over her head just to get stuck. She cried out for help, muffled by the sweatshirt. While I helped her, pulling the hood back while she poked her head through, she giggled the whole time. Finally free of her bonds, she was still laughing and leaned against me, unable to sit up straight.

             
“That was an epic fail. I tried to pull that thing on all sexy and ended up getting stuck. I’m so awesome.”

             
I’d have to clear that little issue up sometime later.

             
“I’ll come on Sunday. What time?”

             
“Noon. And promise me you’ll ignore my sister. She’s a bit of a prick and she hates me. One day she’ll come around but for right now…”             

              I looked at her, thinking surely she joked.

             
“How could anyone ever hate you?”

             
“Right? My bubbly personality alone should make everyone happy.”

             
“It makes me happy. Or as close to happy as I’ve been in a long time.”             

             
A shiver rippled through her. My instinct took over and I pulled her, one hand on her hips and one on the outside of her thighs towards me. Then I wrapped my arm around her. To my great surprise Hayes leaned into me, resting against my side, both of us sighing. Her head was right under my chin and the smell of her hair infiltrated my nose. You’d think the girl would smell like cakes but it was so much more than that. It was wedding cake.

             
“It’s a perk,” she laughed and my torso bounced with hers from the giggle.

             
“What is?”

             
“The way I smell. I always smell like cake.”

             
“You do. And you’re sweet like cake. You probably taste like cake too.”

             
She shivered again, but I was sure the cold wasn’t the culprit.

             
“You’ll have to let me know,” she said through a yawn.

             
I should’ve let her go. I should’ve insisted she go home, but I couldn’t bring myself to move my arms. She fit perfectly against me.

             
I pushed my luck and touched her hair. It was everywhere after the hoodie fiasco but nothing could take away from its softness.

             
“I like the purple.”

             
“Thanks, you’re gonna put me to sleep playing with my hair. My mom used to do that at night. She’d come in my room and I’d tell her about my day or whatever while she played with my hair.”

             
I chuckled imagining a tiny Hayes with frilly pink sheets and pillows telling her baking woes to what seemed like a caring mother. My mom was always too exhausted from taking care of my dad to read to me or anything extra. She basically just passed out after my dad would take his night pills and go to sleep. I wasn’t angry at her—she did the best she could.

              Again, Hayes’ life was perfect next to mine.

             
“Well, feel free to tell me your troubles and I’ll keep doing this.”

             
“My best friend and her husband are fighting—they might split. Colt, that’s her husband, won’t let her spend the night at my house anymore even though he works offshore and doesn’t come home for weeks at a time. And my sister is married to a twit. And I really suck at skating. I think they keep me on the team just to be nice. Now it’s your turn.”

             
“I thought this was about you.”

             
“It was. Now it’s about you. Nellie says you’re a hard nut to crack.”

             
“I swear Nellie Black has the biggest mouth.”

             
“So tell me. Tell me what bothers Rex Macon.”

             
“How’d you know my last name?”

             
“I asked Nellie the other night.”

             
“And you? I don’t even know your last name.”

             
“Madison, and you changed the subject.”

             
Hayes Madison—even her name was pristine. Good grief, I was so beneath her. But I wanted to sit there with her, no one else but the river to hear my confessions. Maybe she’d figure out how wrong I was for her. Because
she’d
have to move on from
me
. It was too late for me to let go.

             
“I’m terrified of you.”

             
She turned her head to look at me. The lights on the pier shone in her sapphire eyes. Her cheeks showed the beginnings of a blush. I touched it lightly with the pads of my fingers and she sucked in a hiss through her teeth. That must be something she likes.

             
“Why are you terrified of me?”

             
“I don’t know. It feels like maybe you could be the one to break me, chisel through the concrete and get to me. Who knows—maybe I’d just let you through without the chisel.”

             
She sighed and resumed her former place. But after another yawn, I prompted her, “Come on, Sleepy. I think you need to get to bed. Plus, it’s cold. I don’t want you to get sick.”

             
“Yeah, I need to get home. I’m keeping this—just so you know,” she pointed to my hoodie.

             
“Good. I’ve got plenty.”

             
“Ok, well goodnight or good morning. I’ll see you soon.”

             
“Yay,” she jumped up and down, “babies!”

             
“Bye, Hayes.”

             
“Bye,” She walked away and then turned before she was out of sight, “By the way, you’re killing me by not kissing me. Just so you know.”

             
“I’ll keep that in mind.”

             
“Yeah.’ She waved and was soon out of sight.

Falcon

My heart was now happily crowded with four beautiful women. My wife, my mother, and the two tiny girls we’d all waited so long to hold.

             
She was crying again and worried didn’t begin to cover the emotions I felt about it. Reed wasn’t a crier normally. I expected it during the pregnancy but two days after the birth of our girls, I wasn’t ready to hear her whimpers almost twenty four hours a day.

             
Everyone had finally left and the babies were asleep.

             
“I need a shower, but damn it all to hell if I feel like taking one.”

             
I lay next to her, “I’ll run the water. Why don’t you take a long, hot bath?”

             
“What if they wake up,” she asked looking over at the bassinette in the corner of the room.

             
“Then I’ll deal with it. Really, Poppy, you’re wound tighter than a spring. You’d feel better with a bath.”

             
“Okay,” she got up and started to take off her robe and then stopped.

             
I thought maybe she’d forgotten to get her clothes, “I’ll get your clothes.”

             
“No, it’s fine. I’ll get them.”

             
She reached into her dresser and got clothes out. I went into the bathroom, turned the water on, pouring tons of the orange/honey bath beads she liked in. She still hadn’t come into the bathroom.

             
“Reed?”

             
“Yeah,” she came in, stiff, standing by the door.

             
“It’s ready.” I stalked over to my beautiful wife, even in her sleepy, worn out state, she exuded love. I reached out to the belt of her robe and pulled the ends.

             
But she snatched them from me, almost mean.

             
“Can I get a little privacy?” She asked in a stale manner, not cold, just empty.

             
“Sure, I’m sorry.” I left the room. She was acting a little off kilter. But then again she’d just given birth to twins, so I didn’t know if that was normal or what. Those damned pregnancy books didn’t say jack shit about that.

             
Veyda stirred in her sleep and I pushed the bassinette gently and she grunted. We hadn’t slept much, and I felt like I was a shadow dragging my real self around by a leash, making sure I kept up. It was late in the morning and we hadn’t eaten so I decided to make us some breakfast. I quickly heated up some breakfast casserole Journey had made for us and made coffee for me and tea for Reed. Holding the tea steady, I tip-toed back into the bedroom and turned the handle on the bathroom door. It was locked.

             
“Reed, I brought your tea.”

             
“I’ll be out soon, Falcon. Thanks.”

             
She’d never locked the bathroom door—ever. In fact, we were both convinced the twins had been made in that very bathroom.

             
Ella was due to come over that day and I knew she would see Reed and know something was up.

             
I hoped.

             
Rex called, wanting to see if he and Hayes could come over and see the babes, but I didn’t think it was a good day, so I asked if he could postpone.

             
Storey and Nellie came over sometime later and fed the babies bottles after Reed said she needed to take a nap instead of feed them. No one batted an eye when she announced it, so I thought it was fine. But she’d boasted to almost every person in hearing range how she was going to breastfeed her twins and how proud she was.

             
I did laundry and folded the tiny clothes, pretending not to be chomping at the bit, waiting for Ella to come. After all the laundry was put away and the twins were back asleep Ella came in. She checked on the babies and then asked where Reed was. I pulled her to the kitchen for some privacy from the gossip train.

             
“Ella, I need to talk to you. Reed’s been crying all the time. She doesn’t leave the bedroom, hasn’t since that one time. She won’t let me get near her, not that I’m trying anything, but I want to kiss my wife. She is refusing more and more to nurse the babies, which is fine. I don’t care if she never breastfeeds them again. But that’s what she wanted. I don’t know what to do. Please, if she needs to go to the doctor and get some medication or whatever—we’ll do whatever.”

             
“I’ll go talk to her and check her out and see. Every mother has a little baby blues.”

             
“Okay, thank you.”

             
She went into the bedroom and I made not so subtle hints that I wanted my sister in laws gone. Nellie was pissed, but she’d get over it. This was my wife.

             
Not even fifteen minutes later, Reed emerged, dressed in yoga pants and one of her favorite hoodies. Her hair was combed and braided in a way I’d never seen it, which led me to believe Ella had done it. They went outside together and Reed didn’t spare me a glance.

             
I took the opportunity to get into the bedroom and change the sheets. Then I opened all the windows just to get some fresh air in the room. Maybe she’d just gotten tired of being cooped up all the time. But it had only been a few days.

             
I grasped at all kinds of conclusions—and came up empty handed.

             
I ran through a quick shower and changed into jeans and a very worn Full Metal Jacket t-shirt. I didn’t even bother with the Mohawk. Going into the living room, I sat in the recliner next to the babies and began to doze off when Reed and Ella came back in. Ella said her goodbyes to Reed, who somehow had managed to look like a new person in just a short amount of time. Ella then patted me on the shoulder and cooed over the girls one more time before heading out the front door. Reed sat down on the arm of the recliner, but I didn’t budge.

             
For the first time, I didn’t know how to act around my wife.

             
“We need to talk.” She whispered. It had been so long since she whispered to me. There was no need, I knew all her secrets—or so I thought.

             
“Talk.”

             
“Ella thinks if this—funk or whatever continues I need to see a doctor. But I swear just getting dressed in real clothes and walking outside worked wonders. She also said I’m not eating enough. It’s just…” She slipped down slowly and sat in my lap, which was more contact than we’d had in days. “It’s just a lot harder than I thought. Those damned books suck. They didn’t tell me I’d feel like dragging sludge. And the breastfeeding—it makes me feel like a cow, just here for the milk and nothing else.”

             
“Poppy, you are everything. It’s a miracle. You gave birth to our babies and then you can feed them without any outside help. Don’t you know how amazing that is? I feel like a helpless twerp here, just trying to do whatever. Hell, I’m just trying not to kill anyone.”

             
She threw her willowy arms around me and I could feel her smile against my neck.

             
“And I feel weird,” she secreted in my ear, “I’m like a mother now. But I’m also a wife. It’s a strange thing. I wanted kiss the hell out of you this morning in the bathroom but then my boobs are full of milk and it kinda ruined it for me.”

             
I chuckled. She always did have a way of saying things so they were funny.

             
“It’s only been a few days. Give yourself a break.”             

             
She gasped and pulled away from me, “That’s the other thing. I think I had this ideal of what it would all be like and it’s just effing not.”

             
“How about this? We just take everything one minute at a time. We do what we can and we’re gonna have to lower our standards on some things. I’m off indefinitely, so we have time. We’re not perfect, no one is.”

             
She leaned over to look into the tiny sleepers next to us, “Are you sure? I see two babes who are just about as perfect as can be.”

             
“They’re just like you, Poppy. They’re sweet and beautiful. But I mean it, we’ll do whatever we have to so that you’re well.”

             
Settling against me again, she sighed. “You know how stubborn I am. Ella practically read me the riot act for not telling you.”

             
“She should. We both know where secrets get you.”

             
“Yes. Secrets get me a new house and a new car and wait, secrets are bad. Secrets are very, very bad.”

             
“Don’t joke.”

             
“Okay, now kiss me, Husband, before those babies wake up.”

             
And I did. It was more than kissing my wife. It was kissing the woman who’d made a pair a full house. There was no better gift she could ever give me.