Love Exactly (4 page)

“I’ve known them since I was sixteen, and being the old thirty-something I am, they’ve seen me drunk more than once. I’m sure I’ve done things more embarrassing than a pink tutu.”

“But flip flops are just unbearable?” I teased as I leaned down to collect our coffee mugs.

He smacked my butt before jogging ahead of me and turning as he reached the door to the apartment.

“I’ll try them on—then we can argue about it,” he conceded.

“Damn right!” I commented as he held the door open for me.

When I woke up on the fourth day of his stay Evan was already dressed, sitting at the end of the bed, playing guitar and singing. I closed my eyes and took another deep breath as the sun began to wash over the bed with the melody of his unique voice. That was one of the reasons he had always been one of my favorite singers—he had a voice that no one else could imitate. It was high, with a whine, and although his range wasn’t amazing, the emotion within it and what he did with his talent was. I opened my eyes as the sun touched him, bathing him in a yellow light that backlit the scene perfectly. He was playing with his eyes closed and smiled as he felt me moving but stayed as he was while I grabbed the camera on my desk. I snapped one picture and put it back on down before crawling up behind him and wrapping my arms around his shoulders.

He turned his face so I could kiss him.

“Good morning,” he said as his hands came to a rest on the strings of the guitar.

“It really is,” I replied, kissing his neck. “I could think of no better way to wake up.”

He put the Ibanez on the bed and pulled me into his arms, his kisses telling me he felt the same. The sun warmed my skin just as his kisses did, and I waited for the dream to fade; fortunately, it didn’t.

“I can’t believe it’s almost over,” he sighed as his lips moved away from my neck and he buried his face in my hair.

“Your life isn’t
that
bad,” I teased, pulling away and looking into his face. The usual five o’clock shadow was there, but as I said the words I watched his vein which led to his tattoo covered collar bone pulse in irritation.

“This sort of thing isn’t supposed to work,” he replied with his voice muffled in his arm as he looked away from me.

“You mean you being famous and me being utterly and desperately normal.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Evan,” I climbed out of his lap and forced him to face me, “you’re doing what you love. Please, don’t let me spoil that. That’s the last thing I want…”

“You’re not spoiling anything…I just wish I could take you with me,” he answered with a shrug.

“I’m sure you’d get sick of me quicker than you think,” I teased, and he rolled his eyes in response.

“What worries me is what people say…in the media…the photo shoots…the music videos. I don’t want you to ever get the wrong idea.” He swallowed as his hand reached out to touch my cheek. “I want you to trust me.”

“You haven’t given me a reason not to.”

He retracted his hand and ran it over the stubble of his chin. “I know it must be hard for you, though.”

“And it’s not hard for you?”

He nodded. “You’re right.”

“Always…remember I’m always right,” I answered.

He took a deep breath and that coy, half-smile came over his face. “Just do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Don’t watch the music videos.”

“I like watching you perform shirtless—you would deprive me of that?”

One of his eyebrows arched and he stood, pulling me up and putting me in my computer chair before yanking his shirt off with a wink. He spun around, grabbed my hair brush from the nightstand and jumped onto my bed.  I gawked at him as he started to sing and gyrate his hips with a self-satisfied look on his face.

“What?”  He paused. “You don’t have a video camera?”

I started laughing as he began to sing again, over exaggerating his movements as he sang the lyrics to the rather sexual song. I stood up, starting to sway my hips as I walked up to him, and his face reddened as he watched me. His voice remained even as I climbed up the bed and ran my fingers over his sculpted shoulders and chest. When I kissed his neck his voice faltered and he started laughing.

“You don’t have a video camera?” he teased and I bit him in response. “Hey, watch out—I like that sort of thing.”

I rolled my eyes and smiled up at him. “I do enjoy staring at you shirtless.”

He sighed as a thought struck him. “Does it bother you other women do too?”

“You had to mention that?” I retorted. I suddenly felt deflated.

He tilted my chin up. “You’re the only one I think of shirtless.”

I choked and shook my head. “You haven’t seen me shirtless.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I have an imagination.”

“It doesn’t bug me as much as I thought it would,” I explained. “I know none of them can do this.”

I leaned up and kissed him as I let my hands slip down the muscles of his smooth back and into his jean pockets.

“Mhmm,” was his mumbled reply through his lips.

I stood in my driveway for far too long after I watched Evan speed off in the rented black Audi. I was avoiding the one thing I knew I should do, and despite myself, wanted to do. I signed up for the instant-press site that allowed me to write anywhere, anytime online as Evan hovered over my shoulder, but now I couldn’t bring myself to go inside and hit the “Add Chapter” button.

“So,” my dad began rounding the corner, covered in dirt and grime, “who’s the new boy toy?”

“Looks like you’ve been obsessing over the garden again,” I said, looking him up and down with a smile.

“Looks like you still think you can fool me. Who is he?” he asked with a nod over my shoulder in the direction Evan had driven away.

I faced my palms to the sky as I shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dad shook his head at me as he wiped his hands on his pants. “I may spend most of my time in the garden or in board rooms, but I’m not dumb. I saw the Audi he had the last time he was here. Obviously, a rental, so who is he?”

“A friend,” I replied, crossing my arms.

“Come on, Ems, you’ve got to give me more than that,” he replied as he wiped some sweat from his brow.

“You look thirsty,” I said, nodding over my shoulder. “I’ll get some ice tea—meet me at the dock?”

He smiled at me. “That’s my girl.”

I rolled my eyes at him before I went into my apartment to get us some drinks. I made sure to find the largest glass I had for him, knowing Dad, he’d drink it in two gulps.

I tapped him on his shoulder when I got to the dock where he already had his feet in the water.

“Thanks, dear,” he replied as he took the supersized glass and gulped down half.

I laughed as I slipped my shoes off and sat to dangle them into the water.

“So…”he began.

“We’re dating…please don’t tell Mom. She’ll blow it out of the water and ask a thousand questions—”

“I won’t tell Mom, as long as you tell me a little bit more about him. I haven’t seen you bring home a boy…in a very long time,” he paused as he thought of the time. I figured that he realized it was never in reality.

“He travels a lot for his job, which explains the rental car. We met over coffee and hit it off,” I shrugged in a nonchalant way that made my dad scoff.

“
You
don’t just let anyone
in
. There has to be more to it than that,” he observed as he drained his glass.

I took his cup from his hand and poured some of mine into it before handing it back and answering, “He’s making a really big effort, and it’s hard because of his traveling, but he really does try.”

“You deserve someone who’s as thoughtful as you are,” he nodded to his drink before taking another sip. “He seemed a different type than the usual.”

“You mean he’s not scrawny?”

My dad let his shoulders rise and fall, a smirk on his face. “Maybe a little bit.”

“He’s not the usual, but isn’t that what makes a person special?”

“I sure hope so,” my dad agreed. “How long have you been seeing him?”

“We met a few months ago, but with his schedule this is only the second time I’ve spent with him.”

My dad’s eyes widened. “He spent quite a few nights this week.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head. “He spent them on the pull-out.”

When I opened my eyes his hands up were up. “I wasn’t judging. That’s your business.”

“With the music festival on the coast there weren’t many hotels, and it was a last minute decision. He ditched a work obligation to come see me,” I explained, and I knew from the smile spreading on my dad’s face there was a blush on my cheeks.

“So what does he do?”

“He’s a singer in a band.”

“Oh, hot stuff,” he teased as he began to chew on a piece of ice.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“How’s work going?” he changed the subject, knowing I was becoming uncomfortable with divulging so much about my somewhat relationship.

“Eh, a lot of stupid assignments…nothing all that interesting, well besides the music festival. I think work heard rumor of my dating a famous person, so they want to see if I can get any hot topics, which I can’t. Evan stays out of the media the best he can,” I explained.

“I can understand that one,” my dad retorted.

“So how’s your work?”

I knew the people my dad managed where often a handful. He was on the board of directors for some project in town, and every year around this time the employees would start asking for raises, better healthcare, and bigger pensions.

“We had someone ask us for a six dollar raise. They demanded that or a 6% cut in health insurance costs.”

“Nice, I wish I could get health insurance…let alone a six dollar raise,” I replied with a shake of my head.

“With your new sugar daddy you won’t need a job pretty soon if you play your cards right,” my dad joked, making me laugh.

“Yeah, you know me—I’m all about stealing the money. That’s how I got hooked up with that ride,” I fired back, nodding over my shoulder at my beat-up Honda.

“I thought loud exhausts were the in thing?”

I stood and held my hand out for him. “I got the hole in the exhaust welded, you didn’t notice?”

He joined me and we began the short walk back up to the house together. “I did notice. It was starting to be a real hassle with you coming in at all hours of the night in that thing.”

“I know 6:00 p.m. Is so late for you old people,” I returned the joke.

He handed back my cup before pulling me into a dirty, sweaty hug.

“I’m glad to see you happy, Emma-bear.”

Instead of writing I sat looking at the laptop screen, tapping my foot to the music and surfing the internet radio station. All I needed to do was type; it should be easy, yet it wasn’t. I realized I had built up so many layers of defense over my pain I didn’t know how to write anymore, let alone what to write. How do you overcome something like that? The therapist I had seen for two sessions told me I needed to grieve. I hadn’t understood her then. What was I grieving about? Eric and I were done. He couldn’t hurt me anymore, or so I thought.

I could see my reflection in the screen of the computer and hit the button to change the brightness so I couldn’t see myself. While I watched my image fade into nothing, I realized I had had something to grieve about, but denied it. I said it out loud to Evan, yet I hadn’t listened to myself.

I had lost me, but how do you grieve for yourself?

Even now as I accepted it, I still I had no idea how to cope. My parents seemed to know who I was; Evan seemed to know who I was. Still, I sat staring at the white screen and wondered why I didn’t know the Emma they knew.
 
How I could find my way back?

I’d been in the darkest corners of my mind. I’d fought against doubt, insecurity, and I’d put up a shield even I couldn’t get past. I knew who I was not, but that didn’t help me to know who I was.

I put my head in my hands as the soothing song on the radio sunk into my soul and when I looked up I typed three words:

I am me

It was the truth, and it didn’t really matter what it meant because it just was.

I continued to sit staring at the cursor blinking behind the ‘e’, but was interrupted by the sound of feet coming down the stairs from above. I wasn’t surprised when my mom popped her head around my bedroom door.

“What you doing?” she asked with a smile.

“Nothing,” I turned in my computer chair to face her, nodding over my shoulder. “Just trying to write something.”

“Any luck?”

“Not really,” I replied, and turned my wrists over to look at them.

Mom walked in and flopped on my bed. “Any plans for today?”

I traced the vein popping out of my wrist and smiled as I thought of Evan.
 
Then it occurred to me.

“I was thinking about going to get a tattoo,” I said, looking up at her. “You want to come?”

Her mouth dropped open a little and she stared at me, puzzled. “Huh?”

“Tattoo.
 
You game?” I repeated as I turned to my computer and typed in the search box.

“Since when do you want a tattoo?” Mom asked, standing and hovering over my shoulder.

“I’ve been thinking I’d like one right here,” I answered, pointing to the wrist I had just been staring at. In truth I hadn’t really been thinking about it. I’d been thinking about Evan and his tattoos, and then suddenly I felt the need to mark myself as well. “It won’t be anything too big or gaudy.”

“It better not be. I kind of like the way your father and I created you.”

I looked away from the computer and up at her to gauge her seriousness, but she was smiling.

“You mad?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s your body.”

“Nothing big— I promise,” I replied.

“I know just the place,” she responded as she reached over and shut my laptop screen.

“You what?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I know somewhere. You know what you want?”

I nodded and she went towards the door.

“Let’s get going. I’ll call on my way there to make sure they can fit you in.”

I didn’t know how she knew the tattoo place, and I wasn’t really sure I wanted to find out. I followed her up the steps into the house where my dad sat with the laptop, glasses perched on his nose. He looked up and smiled.

“Where are my girls off to in such a hurry?”

Mom stopped for a moment like she hadn’t expected him to be there before she shrugged, “To see Tom.”

“Please get something better than a unicorn this time, mhmm?” he muttered as his eyes went back down to the laptop and he started typing.

“Uh? A unicorn?” I repeated.

Dad didn’t look up; instead he shook his head and began typing with one finger.

“I always wanted a unicorn, so I got one,” Mom replied as she grabbed her hand-felted purse and went to the door.

I stood in the middle of the living room staring between the two of them in shock.

Dad looked up, “What’s wrong, dear?”

I opened my mouth and then closed it, unsure what to say.

“Are we going or not?” Mom asked from behind me.

“Don’t get something stupid like your mom, okay?” Dad added before continuing his haphazard stabbing of the keyboard.

“Sure, I’ll try not to,” I finally managed as I turned to follow Mom out to the car.

“So who’s this Tom guy we are going to see?” I asked as Mom dialed a number on her ancient flip-phone. She shook her head at me as she answered, “Hey, it’s Leigh Walker. Do you have an opening in say twenty?…Sounds great, see you then.”

She snapped the phone shut before putting the car in gear and explaining, “I always wanted a tattoo, when I hit fifty—I said to the hell with it and got one. Tom’s daughter is a patient at the office.”

“Is she a regular?”

“Well, she was having some distress in her abdominal region and it took a long time to figure out what it was. I helped them through it as any doctor would, but Tom thought I went above and beyond. He knew it was ridiculous to offer, but he said any time I needed a tattoo I could count on him. Now,” she paused and pointed at me, “I don’t get the tattoos all over the body thing—especially not those full sleeves. So, don’t get too into this, kay?”

I was still trying to get a handle on
her
having a tattoo, let alone the fact Dad didn’t seem to care at all.

“Sure,” I mumbled, looking down at the wrist I planned to mar with ink.

We drove in silence until we pulled into a large strip mall, and started to doubt myself as she put the car into park.

“Ready?” she asked, nodding over her shoulder at the tattoo shop with the neon
OPEN
signing teasing me.

I wondered if all tattoo places looked this shifty and how many of them Evan went to in order to get his series of markings.

“Leigh! It’s a pleasure to see you,” Tom greeted, holding the door open for us to enter.

Mom took the hand of the skinny, tattooed to an inch of his life, thirty-something year old and shook it. I found myself staring at his gauged ears, and I tried not to let the disgust show on my face. Now that was not something I liked to look at. I rationalized tattoos had their place, especially on Evan, but reminded myself to ask him just how many more he was planning on. I really hoped they wouldn’t extend up his neck like this guys.

 
Tom and Mom were now deep in conversation about some diet his daughter was on. It struck me he wasn’t much older than Evan, and this guy had a kid.

“So what are we doing for you today?” Tom directed the question at me, but I was so much in my thoughts I just shook my head in response. He tilted his head at me, stretching the tattoo of a demon so it looked like it was screaming at me. I tried not to cringe as he asked again, “Where do you want the tattoo, and what of?”

“Right, tattoo,” I said. “Uh, right here…a swirly heart.”

“Swirly heart?” he repeated, one eyebrow arching as the metal post lodged in it shined against the lights.

“Yeah.”

“Alright…how big?”

I showed him with my fingers and he nodded. “I’ll draw a few things up, okay?”

He walked back to the desk and grabbed a pencil before staring down at the paper with a blank expression. It felt like he had no clue what I wanted, and I saw the trepidation as he chewed on the eraser. He started sketching, slowly at first and then his hand sped up as a smile came to his face.

“Like this?” he asked as he came over.

I looked down and my breath caught in my throat. It was a set of hearts linked together by thin, but elegant lines.

“Exactly.”

“Love it!” Mom squealed, grabbing my arm.

“Speaking of love, are you still loving the unicorn?” Tom’s eyes went to Mom’s lower waist, and I thought I might die.

“Where
the
hell is this unicorn?” I gave in to my curiosity, unable to control it after Tom’s downcast stare.

Mom gave me a fake grin that showed all her teeth before tapping on her hip.

My upper lip arched in distaste.

“I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I’m sexy and you know it.”

“Oh, gag!” I yelped in response.

At some point in our conversation Tom had disappeared to his station and began setting it up.

“You ladies finished bickering?” he teased, and Mom and I had to stop glaring at one another.

“Ready?” Mom asked with a nudge in my back.

“Sure thing,” I mumbled back.

The truth was the tattoo
didn’t
hurt. It just felt as though someone was dragging a dull razor blade over my skin; what really got to me was the noise. It was a dull, but ever so constant buzz that just wouldn’t let up. It sent my hair at its end as I watched the ink seep from the needle into my skin. If Evan had sat through hours of this I really gave him credit. The hearts that now adorned my wrist only took twenty minutes, and I already had a serious migraine from the drone of the tattoo gun.

Tom rubbed some clear goo on my wrist, which I assumed was anti-bacterial before snapping his black rubber gloves off.

 
“All done! What do you think?” he asked.

“Perfect.” I smiled as I looked down.

I couldn’t wait to see what Evan thought about this.