Just Like Heaven (21 page)

But Rick didn’t want the same things. He missed partying with friends. He missed trying new things and having new adventures.
But
their definition of
new things and new adventures
were too far apart to bridge the gap between them.

Despite all of that, Nina
always
had
the impression that Rick had come to this conclusion after little thought and felt relief upon breaking off their relationship. So to see him turn back to her with a sullen expression and pain in his eyes, she felt a newfound respect for him.

For five years, she had misinterpreted the depth of his feelings, yet all she had to
w
as
raise her head and
open her eyes, and she would have seen the truth. D
oing so would have freed her
from
all
of torment
that she’d fallen for someone who didn’t care, who ha
d thrown her away like
a
bruised apple.
Imagine all of the
self-abuse
she could
have
avoid
ed
if she’d
only
raised her head and
opened her eyes.

It seemed that she had overestimated her own role in Rick’s departure. Of course, she’d felt him pulling away, and that, in tandem with checking out other women,
perhaps deliberately to turn her off and make her withdraw from him, made her conclude
that he was cheating on her.
In response, s
he
’
d
felt guilty checking his email and
his phone for odd phone numbers.
And after
he
caught
her in the act, neither of them mentioned it, but it remained a chasm that further separated them.

The picture on the screen started up again. This time, Nina
sat at a bar, an empty shot
glass beside her left hand while she
texted her on and
off boyfriend
,
Carlos Ruiz.
A formerly muscular man who had stopped working out,
Carlos had allowed
chubbiness to round
out what had been a
toned physique.
His pectorals now
sagged like the breasts of a 100-year old woman
. He often relied on his pudgy abs to
support a
dinner plate
,
rather than
allow
ing
a
table
to do the job
.
But it was his charm and unwavering confidence that made her overlook his physical shortcomings.

He served as
a
PR director for Nike
, or so he told her. A
lthough Nina had visited his
downtown
condo a han
dful of times, she never saw
any
project portfolios, client files or any
affiliation with the famous shoes and clothing titan
. She
only spotted
…shoes and clothes. For all she knew, he might have simply managed the
store in Gurnee, or even worked as a sales associate.

But she liked how he looked at her, by which she meant
to say
that, when beautiful women walked through his eyesight, his gaze never wavered; he continued looking at her with an earnest expression that ma
de her feel safe and secure. Of course, she enjoyed all of the nights they spent out on the town; fine dining, dancing
well past midnight, before
falling into bed. But
when it came to romance,
she liked the unsaid and the unexpected more than the familiar and predictable
: shoulder and foot massages
after a
long,
tough day
waiting tables and inconsiderate
drunks at the bar
, an inexpensive
but colorful necklace “
because
it
made me think of you,”
a candle
reminiscent of the one at the restaurant booth where they first met on a blind date, and countless other little treasures that always kept her off balance, while making her feel special.

At the bar, still
tapping a flat heeled shoe aga
inst the iron legs of her chair and glancing around the room,
Nina
ordered another shot from the bartender and waited.
Carlos had texted her
the night before,
asking her to
meet
him at
Sanitari
um, a
wide, two-story building erected in a tri
angle pattern with a bar on each
of three
floor
s
, surrounded by booths on all sides
.
V
intage signs from various beer companies were spread across the walls. Other than the circular lamps hanging from the ceiling, blue and pink neon lights cut through an otherwise dark ambiance, allowing customers the
opportunity to talk since the T
op 40 music playing through a decent sound system didn’t force patrons to raise their voices.

A we
ek earlier
, just as they finished their meal at a Red Lobster seafood restaurant, Carlos had grown so upset with her accusations of seeing other women that he launched to his feet, st
ood over her, and shouted that
he
“couldn’t trust someone who didn’t trust herself” before storming out of the restaurant and
sticking her with the bill.

Humiliated
by the
all of the eyes looking her way, Nina thr
ew down enough money to cover the bill and a tip then
rushed out of the restaurant to apologize. But Carlos had vanished.

So now Nina waited with an enthusiastic expression, scanning the vicinity for Carlos, as though expecting to see him approach her with an apologetic expression, one that transmitted nothing but love and adoration. She cleared the
text
message
s
he’d
w
ritten: “
where are you
?” and replaced it with, “I’
m
on the 2
nd
level
. Are you here yet?” Then movement to her left caught her attention.

Carlos, with a buxom blond hanging on his arm and batting eyelids at him as though she’d just captured the last man alive, strutted in her direction with a cocky grin, aided by a healthy dose of alcohol: whenever he drank too much, his eyes became glassy and that smarmy smile didn
’t fade from his face until
his buzz wore off, in which case he often got as cranky as a toddler with an attention deficit disorder, or
he passed out
.

But he didn’t even notice her. Ev
en worse, the way he pressed this other woman
close, he had
no intention of seeing Nina tonight. A
nd then it occurred to her that he’d inadvertently texted her
when he’d probably meant to t
ext the girl on his arm.
Nina’s eyes drew inward and became moist as she watched Carlos walk right in front of her and glance halfheartedly at her before looking elsewhere, giving her the impression that
,
despite
having lavished
her with so much time and attention, Carlos had never really
seen
her. If he did, how could he look right at her, however fleeting, and not even recognize her.

Only then did she remember all of the last minute calls
and texts
, asking her to get together
. She’d always explained away each of these
instances as unimportant due to
his
un
predictable
work schedule. Now, seeing Carlos carrying on with another woman, Nina
looked
like the proverbial deer caught in headlights: eyes darting upwards with
shock,
frozen in fear.

Until she did what she’d least expected
.

“What the fuck!” she shouted, stunning a dozen people nearby.

Carlos swung around toward her, whipping his new girl in the same direction
but causing her enormous breasts
to bounce around under her polyester blouse as though mechanically inclined to jiggle in opposite directions at the same time.

“Nina,”
he said, lifting
his voice as though
suffering through puberty. “What are you doing here?”

“You texted me to meet you here.” She raised her phone to eye level, not in Carlos’s face but that of the girl beside him. “That’s his number.
But you can reach him at
: (847) IMA-DICK.”

“Oh, shit!” Carlos said
, cheeks growing red. “Shit.” H
e shook his head. “
I’m
just…”

“
A piece of s
hit?” Nina asked
, finishing for him.
“I agree.” She turned to the blond. “
And he doesn’t clean up after himself
.
Good luck with that.
” Then she walked away.

The picture paused on the b
lond turning her back on Carlos. His shoulders
slumped
, and his
eyes closed in disappointment, looking
like
he’d held a wi
nning lottery ticket only to be
informed that he held a counterfeit copy. 

“Impressive,”
Mei Lee
said, appraising Nina with a notched eyebrow.
“That’s growth.”

“Growth?”

“Compared to the other boyfriend, where you
looked like a
wallflower
that someone stepped on – even if he wasn’t rude or a backstabber.”

“How is that a good thing? I was angry, immature—”

“You stood up for yourself. That’s something to feel good about.”

“If you say so.”

“Ready for the next
one? The big finale?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Here we go…”

Nina stood on stage holding a microphone w
ith jittering hands as the arena
ligh
ts blazed
into her eyes.
She wore a blue polka do
t dress with navy blue flat
s.
Perspiration
dotted her forehead.
This American Idol audition occurred at the Scottrade Center in St. Louis in 2012. She’d taken a Greyhound bus for the 6-hour bus ride, arrived, and
immediately felt completely overwhelmed by all of the contestants, many of whom were more talented and more beautiful than Nina.

“Anytime you’re ready, honey,” said Steven Tyler, the Aerosmith front-man and judge of
the reality show
.

“Take your time,” Jennifer Lopez said. “Try to relax.”

Head lowered, taking a deep
breath and letting it out into the microphone, Nina nodded.

“You
give good blow a bad name,” said Tyler, a
former
cocaine addict.

Nina lifted her head and squinted at the lights. Sweat formed above her upper lip. She started singing
in a high-pitched squeal that made Jennifer Lopez place both palms against her ears. Steven Tyler looked as though someone blew onion breath into his face. Randy Jackson, the third judge, placed both hands together and let his head fall, shaking it.

“Sorry,” Nina said. She cleared his throat. “That was a warm up.”

“Really?” Tyler asked. “You just massacred Whitney
Houston
’s song as a warm-up?”

Lopez gave him a cold look. “Go ahead. Try again.”

Nina exchanged glances between Tyler and Lopez then looked out across the enormous venue. “Um…okay.” She bit her lower lip and kicked at the ground with her shoe, but it landed at an awkward angle. She tripped and fell, landing with a crash.
Her legs went up in the air, no doubt giving the judges (and cameras) a look beneath her dress.

Nina let out
a loud grunt. Her cheeks flared so brightly that it looked
like someone had
pressed a
pair of
scolding frying pans
against them
. One of the show’s producers turned to a camera man and drew a hand under his neck,
demanding that he
stop recording. 

“Oooh yeah,” Tyler said. “I’m standing at attention in more ways than one, and you didn’t even open your mouth.
”

Lopez looked disgusted. “That comment is nasty is so many ways.”