Illusion (22 page)

             
When it's my turn, I stand up and grab at the ball he chose for me. Okay, so my fingers fit nicely, maybe I was looking at youth sized balls. Then "Oh," yeah, this ball is super heavy. I look at the number and it says it's fourteen. I turn my head and look at Brice who is trying very hard to hold back his laughter.

             
"Do not tell me that is too heavy for you. I see ten year olds use that size ball."

             
With a grunt, I pick it up and make my way to the line. I toss the ball down the alleyway and it goes straight to the gutter, rolling way too slow. I’m actually surprised it makes it to the end. When I turn back around, Brice is standing up and smiling softly at me. His voice is very amusing when he talks. "You're not a bowler at all, huh?"

             
"Uh, that is a negative."

             
He helps me the next time and my body heats under his touch. He adjusts my arm and wrist, making sure they line up a certain way, he then helps me pull back and shows me how my right foot should step behind my left. I didn't realize there was such a strategy when it came to something that I always thought was so simple.

             
I ended up knocking down seven of the pins. After I jump for joy, I give Brice a high five. I'm all smiles and excitement until he rolls and gets a strike. Of course he does. "Were you on a bowling league?" I ask him.

             
He shakes his head, completely amused once again. "No, I just know how to bowl."

             
I glare at him before taking my next turn.

             
He leaves me alone and orders some food. When he returns, he goes again, getting another strike, where I had only knocked down four pins.

             
By the fifth frame, I finally get my first spare. Brice looks just as happy for me as I feel for myself. He hasn't gotten another strike since the second frame, but I'm not sure if he is just trying to make me feel better. It does though, so I don't say anything.

             
His ticket number gets announced over the speaker and he leaves to get the food. I settle down at the table and wait for his return. He has a pizza, a basket of fries, and a pitcher of a dark soda pop. When he sets it down I can immediately smell the aroma of Root Beer.

             
My mouth is nearly salivating at the smell of all the greasy, delicious food. I thank him before digging in, then we both eat while letting our game stay paused half way through our first match.

             
When we finish our first round, Brice wins 163 to my 97. I try not to grumble about that fact, because it's obvious he goes bowling more often than he lets on. We play two more rounds and although I don't win any of them, my score gets better each time. Sadly, so doesn't Brice's, but not by much.

             
"We have one hour and seventeen minutes before Emi will let us back into your apartment." There is so much wrong with that sentence. "So what do you want to do?"

             
"I seriously have no idea. That was fun and I'm full. What else is there to do?"

             
"What else is there to do in New York City? Hm, I have no idea," he says completely sarcastic.

             
I reach over and punch his arm, which has him laughing even more.

             
"Fine, fine, I'll find something more for us to do... again." He looks over and smiles. I smile back.

             
We drive until we're in a more beaten down part of the city. It kind of gives me the creeps but I don't say as much. When we get out of the car, he walks over and takes my hand in his. I'm glad, because I feel less likely to get mugged by someone. There is a red brick building with graffiti all over it. A wooden door in the middle of it with a neon sign blinking above it. "S" is all the sign says. Weird.

             
He opens the door and pushes on my lower back to have me go first. I unenthusiastically do as he silently directs and find it to be a hole in the wall type bar. I turn towards him when we're a few steps in. "My doctor wants me to stop drinking, at least for now."

             
"That's fine, we don't have to drink."

             
"But we're in a bar, and we just ate, so?"

             
He nods his head towards a table and starts walking, not answering me. Not wanting to be left alone, I quickly follow behind him and slide into the wooden bench seat that isn't nearly as uncomfortable as it looks. Seconds later a lady walks over and hands us two glasses of water and a basket of pretzels. There is a small dip inside the basket that looks somewhat like creamy mustard.

             
"They make their own pretzels, they're really good. That's a concoction that I've yet to figure out but it's both spicy and sweet. I think you'll enjoy it a lot." So he comes here often? That is just strange.

             
I dip a pretzel into the sauce, and oh my ever loving God it's one of the best things I've ever tasted. I'm about to have a food-gasm right here. When I open my eyes, after a long moan I didn't mean to do, Brice is staring at me with a dropped jaw. I clear my throat and grab another pretzel, pretending that did not just happen.

             
His lips pull into a smile but he doesn't say anything as he eats his own pretzel. They’re soft and remind me of the ones you get from a street vendor, only smaller, and better. The sauce, like he says, is both spicy and sweet. I’ve found my new favorite snack, that much is for certain.

             
I look around and see a stage only a few feet off the ground with one lonely stool and microphone placed on it. So it's like an open bar? I wonder if anyone will be singing tonight. Brice pulls out his phone and looks at it, then slides it back in his pocket. "It'll be starting in approximately two minutes."

             
I don't answer, I just stare at the stage as someone approaches it. They do a mic-check and a stage light turns on. The guy looks to be maybe fifteen and he clears his throat in the microphone. "Hello everyone, I'm Ted." People's fingers start snapping instead of clapping.

             
Weird, once again.

             
He grabs onto the microphone, standing up and speaking softly. "Living in a lost soul, I was living out of control. Not sure if I should hide, not sure who was on my side. Falling further down, deep inside the ground. Living life all wrong, but wanting to be strong. There was something in her smile, I wanted to stay a while. She turned and left me there, I could do nothing but stare. The pain broke me deep, I couldn't even sleep. She wanted me no more, a hole in my heart it tore. I felt the pain, the sting, the emptiness inside of me. She is now a ghost to me, it's more than I should see. The pain she caused deep within, I'll never see her face again."

             
In so many ways that poem made no sense whatsoever but in so many ways I felt completely connected to this guy I've never seen before. And a poem? I thought he'd be singing. No, he spoke with deep emotion and sorrow while looking off into space. Nothing was written down, so he obviously memorized that. It was beautiful in the strangest of ways. More snapping of fingers go throughout the place and I find myself joining in.

             
When he is off the stage and a lady probably in her thirties makes her way up, I turn to look at Brice. He looks unsure about this. "What is this?" I point towards the stage.

             
"It's poetry slam."

             
"Huh?" I have heard about it before but I never knew it actually existed. I thought it was something someone made up in a movie or book, but it's real. Wow. And it's beautiful.

             
"I thought it was something you'd like to see. Don't worry, I don't read any and you don't have to either. Just listen to the things people say and the deep emotions in their words. I have a feeling you'll connect to some of them."

             
My heart warms so much at his thoughtfulness. I smile at him, thanking him silently, and turn towards the stage. The lady is walking off and I didn't hear what she said but I snap my fingers alongside everyone else.

             
When our hour is up, Brice asks if I want to leave. I tell him no and he laughs as I continue watching these people pour their hearts and souls out onto a crowd of people they don’t even know. It's one of the most therapeutic things I've ever witnessed. Brice ends up leaving his bench seat and climbs in behind me in mine. He wraps his arms around my waist and I find myself leaning back into his chest. We remain this way together for another forty minutes when I decide I'm exhausted.

             
Brice walks me to my apartment door and runs his hand down my cheek, until it's resting on the side of my neck. "Thank you for everything," I tell him.

             
He smiles sincerely at me. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself this evening. I’ve got a few things to do tomorrow, so I'll see you Monday."

             
I bite down on my lip to try and not show him the disappointment I have over not seeing him tomorrow.

             
He exhales a small breath and looks like he is debating something within himself. Finally his eyes lock into mine and he quietly asks, "can I kiss you?"

             
I nod my head, not willing myself to speak.

             
He leans forward and lightly brushes his lips along mine. It's soft and sweet and feels so nice. When he pulls back, he is still only a few inches from my face. He has his eyes closed and I can see a hint of a smile. When he finally opens them, he looks directly into my own. "Goodnight." His voice soft.

             
"Night," I tell him. His eyes watch my face for another minute before he takes a step back. He runs his hand through his hair and smiles awkwardly before he turns and leaves. I stand here dumbfounded until the door behind me opens and Emi pulls on my arm until I'm in the apartment, nearly falling down.

             
She is all smiles. "So tell me, how was your night?" It's like she already knows how incredibly perfect it was.

             
It's been exactly four weeks since I've seen Harvey, and still no word from him. Which means it's also been exactly three weeks since my mini date with Brice. We ended back up at the bar with the poetry slam last weekend, and we ate our dinner there. Before we went there, he brought me to a small concert in the park. That was hard, reminding me of Harvey, but having Brice there made it easier.

             
The weekend after our first date, he came over and brought take-out for Emi and I, and the three of us watched movies. He ended up falling asleep on the couch and I let him stay there, and the next morning he cooked us breakfast before he took off.

             
Today he is bringing me to a friend's house, someone we work with but I don't know well, at a large barbeque they're having. I guess there will be swimming, horse shoes, and lots of food. I'm so very nervous about the situation, but at the same time, pretty excited.

             
We're still nothing more than friends. I'm still not ready to take that step, and thankfully this time Emi isn't pushing me.

             
Where I still haven't heard from or seen Harvey, the more the reality of the situation sinks in. It's a painful reality, but I've lived a lot of pain and have surprisingly made it through. This time I’m making it through with the help of Emi and Brice. Even Meghan and Ryan occupy a lot of my time.

             
I finally broke apart and told Meghan everything. She held me tight while I cried in her arms one Sunday, and it felt great to know I have a friend that isn't a male and isn't related to me. It's been a while since I've had that, since Tabby moved to Florida. I always have been surrounded by wonderful, loving people, but most of them were mutual friends of Kirt and I, and I separated myself from almost all of them we he passed away.

             
I ended my weekly sessions with Dr. Ross, now I’m just going to attend sessions once every three months. I finally got switched onto another medication but only take a half dose instead of a full one. I'm learning to exercise, drink more water, get more sunshine, and all those things he told me to do. The only thing I don't get much of is some quiet time a half hour a day.

             
Emi found a job last week though, so she has been gone a little more often. She is going to have to work every other Sunday, receiving every other Friday off, but she seems to like that idea. She went on one date last Saturday with someone Meghan hooked her up with. I love seeing her making a life outside of me in the new city. I feel proud of her.

             
Gohn, the guy from work, lives in Manhattan and has the smallest backyard of all time. There are over twenty people here when Brice and I arrive, and more to come, including Meghan. He has one of those four feet tall blowup pools, and it's more meant for the young children some people brought. The horseshoe pits are a lot closer than they should be, and they're not even barbequing outside. I have to laugh at what my imagination cooked up and what is the reality in the situation. Most people are hanging out inside unless they're watching after their kids, playing horseshoes, or are smoking cigarettes. I have no reason to be outside, so Brice and I stay indoors and chat with others we work with.

             
I feel guilty because I don't know half the people that are here, yet they're almost all employed at In-and-Out. It's obvious that I need to start communicating with more staff. Quite a few people come up and talk with me and I have conversation with them as well, but I don't know them nearly as well as they know me. In fact, most of them I'm unsure of their names and they come up and ask, "How are you Zoey?" or say, "Zoey, it's nice seeing you outside of work."

             
When it's time to eat, Meghan finally shows up, and Brice, her, and I all sit around a large white plastic table that is placed in the dining room. We talk amongst ourselves for the most part, sometimes including someone nearby, and I find myself laughing a lot. It's better than I was expecting it to be for sure.

             
Gohn asks if we want to stay for the adult’s only after party, while those with kids leave. Apparently they're having drinks and playing cards, which does sound fun, except Dr. Ross still doesn't want me drinking anything. I tell Brice he is more than welcome to stay and play, I can catch a cab home or I can have Meghan bring me home, since she doesn't want to stay either. He claims he'd rather just have a relaxing night with me. It makes me smile, but I don't let on just how happy it makes me.

             
We say bye to everyone and I give Meghan hugs. She is staying a little later than us but not too long. I think she has a crush on one of the guys that are here, but he has a four year old daughter, so that kind of surprises me. She seems young to be interested in a single dad, but I guess we all mature at different ages. Looking at her, she looks younger than she is though. She turned twenty two at the beginning of the year, but still looks like a teenager, so when you think about it, she isn't too young at all.

             
Since it's still early, Brice asks if we can park his car near the apartment and walk somewhere to find something to eat for supper. Of course I agree to it. It's a beautiful summer evening, with just the right amount of breeze flowing through the air. The sun is still up, but it's mostly blocked by buildings, and it causes a breathtaking view when you're looking at the buildings just right. Everything about this evening is relaxing and blissful.

             
Just as we're walking into a pizza joint, I see those gray eyes that I've thought of almost every single damn night the past four weeks. I know it, because they remind me so clearly of Kirt. I can't get those eyes out of my mind. Except, he doesn't look the same, oddly enough. My vision of him in my head has changed what he really looks like. When he looks back at me, it's like a punch to the gut. How can he look at me like that? Like he doesn't know who I am, like he isn't sorry about the pain he has caused.

             
It angers me, it saddens me, and it confuses the hell out of me.

             
"What's the matter?" Brice whispers when I don't enter inside the pizza parlor. I just stand here and stare at the asshole who made me believe I was crazy. Who just up and left one night, never to say goodbye. The guy who I started falling for, that I thought felt the same, then disappeared without a trace. Who disconnected his phone and made it nearly impossible to find. Maybe I should have tried harder. I went to a doctor, I switched medications, I had a massive break down and got depressed all over again, but I never thought to search for Harvey.

             
Maybe I wanted to believe that it was an illusion. Maybe my mind told me to give up on him. But now that I'm staring at him, I can't imagine why. I want to slap him in the face, I want to scream at him, I want to ask him a million questions. I want him to suffer the same way I have been.

             
All the hard work of moving on and healing, all the time I've taken out of my life, the work I've missed, the pain I caused Emi and Brice and Meghan, even my parents, all the things he has caused me over the past four weeks comes rushing in and nearly knocks my breath out of me.

             
Brice pulls on my arm, trying to get my attention again, but I can't stop staring. Harvey doesn't look remorseful or caring at all, he actually looks at me like he has no idea who I am, and that hurts, a lot. Something inside me snaps as all those memories of my pain and suffering come flowing through me at a rapid speed. I walk towards Harvey the same time he turns and starts laughing with some brunette in tight jeans.

             
"Harvey," I yell out. He tenses and looks back at me, looking... confused. Instead of questioning things, I continue my tread and when I reach in front of him, with all the anger I have embedded within myself, I slap him across the face.

             
His hand immediately covers the spot where my hand imprinted itself upon his cheek and his eyes darken as he stares at me. His breath immediately starts to quicken and he looks pissed. Good! He needs to be pissed. He needs to show me some kind of penitence for his actions. "What the fuck, bitch!" he yells at me.

             
That's my undoing.

             
"Excuse me?" I get on my toes and push my chest into his. "Fuck you, and everything you did to me. You're a sick, sick asshole, and I cannot believe I ever trusted you. I hate you Harvey, do you hear me, I hate you!" I shove my hands into his chest but he doesn't budge.

             
"You're a fucking psycho, get the hell away from me."

             
"No! You don't get the right to call me anything! Do you understand the pain you caused me?" My voice starts to falter as tears form in my eyes. I can no longer yell, instead I start whispering out in a hoarse voice, full of all the emotion consuming my body. "You fooled me. I thought I was healing and you go and hurt me in the worst of ways. No goodbye? Really? Why? Why would you do that to me?"

             
Arms wrap from behind me and Harvey's eyes leave mine quickly to find who I assume is Brice. He is trying to pull me away but I fight him as I wiggle out of his embrace. Harvey speaks to him. "Good, get this bitch away from me. She needs to be locked up or something. Get a muzzle on her, too."

             
All I can see is red.

             
Before I know what is happening, Brice's arms are off me and he is tackling Harvey to the ground. A gasp leaves the brunette as I just stare. My body is shaking and I'm not sure what I'm feeling more of; anger or confusion or sadness. It's all too consuming and I'm not sure how much more I can take.

             
The girl with the dark hair looks at me as Harvey and Brice are completely battling it out. She screams at me. "Who are you and what the hell is this all about? Take your sorry ass away from us and leave. That is my husband you're attacking and this is all bullshit!"

             
Husband? Did I just hear her right? "Excuse me?" I ask deadpan.

             
She steps closer and gets eye to eye with me. "I don't know what your problem is, but you need to get this douche bag off my husband, and get the hell away from us and out of our lives. Who the hell do you think you are?"

             
I don't answer her, instead I look down at the guys literally beating the shit out of each other. "Stop," I yell, "just stop it!" They don't. "I said stop!" I don't think they even hear me. I pull up on Brice's shirt and as his face snaps towards me, Harvey gets a good punch, landing Brice on his ass.

             
Harvey goes to punch Brice again and I slap him once more. "You're married?" I scream at him the same time he turns his anger towards me. "How dare you! This doesn't make sense!"

             
He starts breathing even heavier through his nostrils as blood drips from his swollen lip. His left eye is already closing shut and turning purple, and he has a large scratch down the side of his jaw. I'd feel bad for him had he not hurt me so badly. He was a great, wonderful, terrific guy while we got to know each other, but now that I know the truth- now that I know the real Harvey- I hate him. I completely despise and loathe the so-called man in front of me. It all makes sense now. I didn't make him up, he was married so he hid things from me. He lied to me, he tricked me, he fooled me. He embarrassed me. He didn't help me heal at all, he just tortured me even more.

             
"Who... the... fuck... are... you?" he seethes out through gritted teeth.

             
"I'm the girl you destroyed! Don't play this game with me." I break out in tears, not wanting to but not able to control them. My body is shaking out of control and he pulls his wife close to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, comforting her. It's so surreal I don't even know what to think of this.

             
Brice comes over and my heart thumps extra hard seeing the bruising and blood all over his face. I'm not sure who got the better of the other. Brice has a large cut on his eyebrow and he has blood coming from his nose. It looks as though besides some bruising his eyes and lips are fine. I don't think he has a broken nose. I’m pretty sure he won that fight. Regardless, he defended my honor, and that makes me so happy.