For the Best (9 page)

Read For the Best Online

Authors: LJ Scar

Tags: #travel, #cancer, #dogs, #depression, #drugs, #florida, #college, #cheating, #betrayals, #foreclosure, #glacier national park, #bad boys, #first loves

BOOK: For the Best
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We made our way to the keg. Tanner pumped
then poured. I held tight to a water bottle I’d brought.

“Hanner…what’s up?” The voice was so
grating, and the guy was so disgusting. One of those types that had
been popular in high school but when you saw him a year after
graduation you wondered what had put him on that social level.

I felt Tanner’s fingers dig a little into my
side as he guzzled his first beer. “Hoping soon it will be my blood
alcohol content.”

They laughed, I didn’t. “Excuse me,” I said
extracting myself from the group to join the bathroom line that
snaked out of the laundry room off the kitchen. A tall guy in front
of me gave me shelter. I watched Tanner continue talking.

Once I finished, I looked around. Tanner was
no longer in sight. My skin became heated - crawling as if infested
as I wove through the crowd. He’d disappeared, possibly to find a
private spot with some other girl but more than likely he was
popping a few pills. The living room was wall to wall people, I
exited through the kitchen door that led out to the garage, skirted
around a single car and found a side entry door.

Underneath the garage lights, the line of
cars on the street and in the drive was heavy. I looked left and
right…made a decision.

Along the sidewalk I ran, and kept running.
Past the familiar roads leading to the beach, past the shops and
restaurants I hadn’t been able to afford in the last year. My feet
ached in my flip flops still I kept going until my old house was in
front of me. A fresh coat of paint, new landscaping and mulch...I
started to cry wishing I had put those needed touches into the
place. Minutes passed as I said goodbye.

Slowly, I walked the route I knew so well,
found my car where I’d left it in front of Tanner’s and slid
inside. I sent him a text wondering how long until my words were
read.

Chapter 14

 

June
July
August
September

 

 

Tanner

The night of my graduation, she’d
disappeared on me. I’d been so self-involved on top of being drunk
and high I hadn’t missed her until hours had passed. When I checked
my phone, I saw her message but the words didn’t compute.

Tanner, it’s over.

Peyton took the phone out of my hands and
giggled.

The next day the message was deleted. I
couldn’t completely recall what it had said.

I called. I texted. No response.

I dropped by her dad’s bearing flowers.
Lainey was the one who told me she was gone. Unbelieving I ran to
their shared room, looked…nothing. Not even her scent remained.

Frantic, I filled her voice mail box and
sent text after text. Two days later her cell digits became a
non-working number.

I went to Trev. She could give up on me but
not him.

 

Hanna

I had finished the warmer months
volunteering at the dog rescue. Once my money ran out I found work
as a waitress in a ski village where I moved in with three older
girls. They were fun loving, uninhibited and unwilling to show
restraint. So many overnight guests flitted through our rental that
I crated Gator when I was gone.

From encounters with friends of friends and
strangers I met Ansel. He stood out, not just because he had dark
blonde hair worthy of a rock star, green eyes like the sea, and a
lean body obtained from hours on the slopes.

“So Ansel…is it just a coincidence on your
first name mirroring another famous photographer?” I asked the
first time we met and he told me he was a photo journalist.

“My mother was a big fan of his, so I’d be
lying if I said no,” he admitted.

“She must have been pleased to see you
following in the footsteps of your namesake.”

He cleared his throat. “Actually, she died
when I was five.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “My style of photography is a
little less noble than Mr. Adams’.”

Pondering his last sentence I hesitated then
probed, “What do you mean my style? What kind of photography are
you into?”

“Mostly tabloids and entertainment TV shows.
Basically I stalk celebrities, heiresses, the occasional producer
and ex-girlfriend on the slopes for a living.” He smiled
mischievously.

I studied him. “Those magazines and shows
get sued frequently.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes. I’m under their
protective umbrella.”

“You know any good lawyers?” I asked.

“What kind?”

I considered my future - then told him my
story.

 

Tanner

College…not as liberating as I would have
hoped. So much of what I thought my “adult” life would be like was
the unenlightened creations of some guy who I no longer had much in
common with.

I didn’t pledge like Didge. My classes were
generic pre-reqs aimed towards some major I couldn’t seem to
choose. I had no idea what I wanted out of life anymore. If I knew
where Hanna had gone I would have chucked my whole education and
went to find her just to have a goal again.

She was always in my thoughts. Past events
weighed heavy on my mind. Halloween was no exception.

Last year, we’d done a haunted house with
some friends. She was in front of me. I was holding her by the
waist as blinking strobe lights brightened black lit glow in the
dark images, an occasional grabbing ghoul, and decapitated bodies
catapulting our way. One scene was a hospital room with a sparsely
haired middle aged woman hooked up to IVs. Open sores oozed from
her body. I didn’t recognize her but she must have known us because
she rose up and looked straight in our direction screaming, “Hanna”
over and over again.

Hanna started crying, sobbing actually right
there. I led her down a corridor the haunted house had labeled wimp
escapes.

There was no consoling her that night. In
hindsight, I could say it was another night of hundreds I’d just
made her feel worse.

 

Hanna

Thanksgiving came. I worked late into the
small hours because I got double pay and big tips from tourists who
felt sorry for ruining my holiday.

Coming home, I noticed the remnants of a
celebration. The kitchen counter was littered with baked on food
pans and empty bottles. The lingering smells of turkey and stale
booze overwhelmed me. In my bedroom, I discovered Ansel clad only
in boxer briefs under my covers. Moving in closer, his tainted
breath could have peeled the paint from my walls.

I nudged him to wake. “Ansel, get up. I’m
not sharing my bed with you.”

He garbled some words.

My body was spent. I couldn’t stand on my
feet another minute. Begrudgingly, I joined him in bed. He was so
toasted it was doubtful he’d be able to move must less make a
move.

The next morning I felt him stir. I opened
my eyes to find him staring down at me. My heart clenched and his
expression said volumes. I jerked away as I fully recalled our
night together, how tenderly he held me, how I’d caressed his body
in the safety of the darkness. I could still feel him, the weight
of his arm slung casually across my stomach in the night, the heat
of his thighs brushing mine.

“Don’t go all shy on me now.” Hushed words
followed a smile.

I jumped from the bed we shared, righting my
clothes. I could feel my face warming as I flushed, and felt sudden
anger. “I don’t appreciate coming home to find some drunk guy in
his underwear in my bed.”

“First, I didn’t plan on crashing here.” He
pointed to Gator lying in the floor. “I took the dog for a walk,
then came back to wait for you to get off.” He ran his hand over
his face. “Second, I’m not a stranger. I’m sorry I invaded your
space but I’m more sorry that I fell off the wagon.”

Hesitantly, I asked, “Are you an
alcoholic?

He nodded. “A recovering one.”

Why was a sucker for guys with
addictions?
I thought. “I didn’t know.”

He stayed in bed following my movements. “I
didn’t tell you.”

Forcing myself steady, I sat on the edge of
the bed. “Alcohol is everywhere. Is it hard?”

“Only in certain aspects. I can take a beer
or a glass of wine and stop. But in the midst of a party, hard
liquor becomes my weakness,” he admitted his expression remorseful.
“Sorry, I stepped over the line.”

A guy apologizing, this was new for me. I
relented, “I was sober. I let you cross it.”

He smiled. An awkward silence settled
between us.

Finally, he said, “My dad’s buddy – the
lawyer I recommended. He told me you’d been in touch.”

“I was.”

“You want to fill me in?”

I threw him his pants and shirt. “Yeah, get
dressed. You can treat me to breakfast since I gave you a free
place to stay last night.”

 

 

 

 

Tanner

One day at the beach I learned Trev wasn’t
the only person Hanna had remained in contact with. I recognized a
dog she used to walk.

I approached the guy attached to the leash,
a twenty something surfer who looked less than pleased with the
antics of his Rottweiler carrying a discarded, barnacled boat
bumper in the grip of his jaws.

“My girlfriend used to walk him.” I pointed
to the beast.

“Hanna,” the guy said her name like they
were good friends.

“Yeah.”

“You been out to Utah to visit her?”

I blinked hard.
Utah...why the hell was
she there?
Trev had said when she called she’d talked about
heat and red rocks. I’d assumed she was in Arizona. “You wouldn’t
know her new number would you? We kind of parted on bad terms.”

The guy seemed to consider me for a minute
then said, “Next time she calls to check up on Bowzer I’ll ask her
to call the guy who still refers to her as his girlfriend.”

As he disappeared down the beach, I cursed
Hanna for being more concerned about a dog than me.

Chapter 15

 

 

Hanna

I hadn’t grown attached to Utah. Ansel was
another matter. The desire I felt the night he passed out in my bed
I brushed off…it was for the best. As for him, he never made any
overt signs of affection. I took it to mean he wasn’t interested –
at least beyond friendship.

With a little convincing from him, I moved
closer. Over the internet, I found an efficiency unit an hour north
of Ansel’s place in Los Angeles. He’d landed me an interview with a
winery. I traded one service industry job for another.

He and I killed a lot of time together -
mostly in LA at his apartment. Nights were spent talking, him lying
on one end of the sectional in his apartment, me on the other. We
shared similar stories of love and loss. He listened without
judgment when I told him every sordid detail of my relationship
with Tanner, and all the heartbreak of my mom and dad. He told me
about an old girlfriend who had done him wrong and about being
raised by a single dad. We kept no secrets. We had no
illusions.

 

 

 

Tanner

Spring semester was better than fall. Still
no closer to knowing a career path my courses were basically all
major generic. Routing her own destiny outside of classrooms made
me jealous of Hanna.

Eight months with no word other than the
bits I’d pieced together from Trev. He kept her Christmas postcard
taped to his dresser mirror like a badge of honor. I dreamed about
heading out to Utah, but I feared she wouldn’t want me or worse she
had found someone else.

For Valentine’s Day, she sent Trev a shot of
her hand holding out a heart shaped shell. In the background were a
beach and a turbulent sea. She’d written.


Tell Tanner the waves in
California are gnarly and I’m still afraid to go out past the
breakers.

Probably I read too much into her words but
the fact that she thought of me and let me know where she was made
me feel a little lighter.

Close to Easter I saw Lainey for the first
time on campus. Of course, all I wanted to know was anything to do
with Hanna.

“She hired a lawyer. He is collecting unpaid
child support for Hanna as well as his legal fees.”

I blew air from the breath I held. I
admitted, “Her dad hadn’t paid child support since our junior year
of high school.”

“Even so it doesn’t change that he and my
mom are about to blow a gasket.”

“Why? He can afford it.”

She shook her head. “Support wasn’t ever
calculated correctly in the first place. It was supposed to be
based upon his income including IRAs and stock options. Since he
dropped her from his insurance there is some legal clause about
insurance premiums. The amount he owed was huge times 18 months of
being a deadbeat dad. He says the payoff is $17 grand.”

So Hanna was exacting some monetary revenge
on her father. “I’m not feeling much sorrow for him.”

She looked down and fingered this machine
distressed hole in her designer jeans. “It is really hard seeing my
mom get down.” She batted her eyes up at me.

Uneasy, I responded, “Lainey, when you’re
feeling bad for your mom do you ever muster any sympathy for what
Hanna has gone through.”

“She’s going to come out of this rich.”

I studied her.
Did she not understand the
pain Hanna had endured?
“Seventeen grand is not rich.”

“It is when you tack on the rest coming to
her. The lawyer my stepdad hired says her attorney has also filed
for refunds from the IRS because the early withdrawals from her
mom’s 401k were taxed at applicable income levels and a 10%
penalty. He said she should have qualified for a hardship case
because she needed to prevent foreclosure, provide tuition, pay
un-reimbursed medical expenses and she was terminally ill,
divorced, with medical debt exceeding her adjusted gross income.
Hanna has another $6k coming from that if it is accepted.”

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