On His Turf (28 page)
“I can’t deal with this right now. I’m out of here!” he shouts as he steps around me. I don’t turn around to see him leave but I listen for the jangle of his keys and his heavy boots as he stomps across the floor and slams the door.
I’m left standing in his living room all alone and when I walk over to the sofa and sit down I find that I’m shaking like a leaf. I wait for a few minutes to see if he’ll come back but the condo is as quiet as a crypt so eventually I get up and head to the bedroom to pack my things.
I pull out my phone to call Leigh who I catch as she’s heading for lunch. I ask her to come and help me and she quickly agrees and doesn’t ask questions so I figure my voice must sound awful. After that I dial Matty and he answers on the first ring.
“I’ve been waiting all morning to hear from you!” he shouts into the phone, adding, “I thought it was best to get my ass out of there so you and jockstrap could have some privacy. How did it go?”
“Well…he knows,” I say and my voice wavers.
“And?”
“And I’m here and he’s not,” I shrug pathetically even though I know he can’t see me.
“Oh, honey.”
“It’s for the best. I’m just packing up now so I can head home.”
“Wait for me,” he says in a hurried voice.
“No, you rest. Leigh’s coming to help.”
“Then come straight to my place and bring your stuff.”
“Don’t you think we’ve had enough of each other the last two weeks?” I say through the tears that have started to fall.
“We could never get enough of each other, Carm. I want you here,” he answers.
“Thank you, Matty.”
“Don’t thank me. I promise you that I’m going to kill him when I find him,” he says venomously.
“No, you’re not. You’re going to hold back my hair while I puke, you’re going to help me tie my shoes when I’m too big to see my feet and you’re going to be the best uncle that this baby has ever seen, but promise me you’ll stay out of it where Shane is concerned,” I sob into the phone and he shushes me.
“Okay, Carm, I promise. Whatever you need. Now hurry up and get your butt over here so I can feed you ice cream.”
“Cherry Garcia?” I sniff.
“And Cheesecake Brownie. On a day like today you’ve earned it, honey.”
I end the call and pick up my purse from the bed to drop my phone in. I pack my gym bag and my suitcase and stuff the toiletries and dirty laundry into a garbage bag before dragging it all to the front door. Half an hour later the doorbell rings and I find Leigh waiting on the other side. I take one more look around the place that’s been my home for the last few weeks and suck in a huge breath as it hits me that it’s probably the last time I’ll ever see it. It’s my own fault really - I should’ve been more careful with my heart. There’s a reason that I don’t let people in. And right now the one person I thought I could open up to wants to be as far away from me as he can possibly be.
***
My feet are draped across Matty’s lap as I stare down at the half-empty carton of Ben & Jerry’s.
“Think about it, Carm. I’m not defending the guy or anything but it’s a pretty huge bomb you dropped,” he says. I clear my throat as I try to process exactly what he’s saying.
“And it’s not like you calmly sat him down and told him,” Leigh adds. “One of your piss sticks literally fell out of the garbage into his lap.” Once she dropped me off at Matty’s she refused to leave and now I feel like I’m in the middle of an intervention. Both of them are sitting there staring at me like I’m about to shatter into pieces so I dig in my spoon in and scrape around the sides of the container before responding.
“But to just run out like that? I never imagined he was that kind of guy,” I scoff before sliding another spoonful of cold sweetness into my mouth.
“I get that it probably hits a bit too close to home with your dad and everything,” Matty acknowledges, “but you two should at least try to figure this out.”
“We’ve been together like two months and we never even put a name to what this is so I don’t owe him anything,” I snap back.
“Yeah?” Leigh challenges, raising an eyebrow at me. “The fetus in your stomach says otherwise.”
“Since when did you get all responsible?” I glare at her and she sighs.
“Since I saw the two of you together. Face it, Caramel, you two are perfect for each other but you’re both too stubborn to admit it.”
“I am not stubborn,” I grumble and Matty starts howling. I drop the spoon and scowl at him until he’s done.
“You honey are the definition of stubborn,” he says, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. “You can stay here as long as you like, Carm, you know that. And whatever happens you have me and you have Leigh and the three of us together will do a kick ass job of raising this baby. But I think you owe it to yourself and to Shane to tell him how you really feel.”
“Tell him what exactly?” I say, feeling defeated. “That I love him so much that it hurts and I don’t want to spend a second of my life without him, and oh by the way this pregnancy really was an accident and not me trying to trap you by becoming your baby-mama?” I sigh. “Sounds like a believable story to me.”
“God, are you always so self-deprecating?” Leigh asks, rolling her eyes. “You are a beautiful, talented, independent female who snagged the ultimate playboy without even trying to. Just own it already.”
“I wasn’t trying to
snag
anyone,” I frown and Matty chuckles, swinging my legs off of his lap. “I think that’s the point, honey.”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore!” I shout as a few more traitorous tears sneak down my nose. “You are my friends - you’re supposed to be on my side!”
At my outburst Matty leans over to plant a kiss on my cheek. “We are on your side but we also know what’s best for you even if you don’t. Just promise me that you’ll try to talk to him. And if you do and he runs out on your again then I will literally hunt him down and kill him.”
“Me too,” Leigh chimes in. “I’ll kick him in the balls wearing a pair of his cleats and see how he likes that.”
“Oh God,” I say, laughing through the tears. “The two of you are a dangerous combination. Alright, I’ll talk to him but not now. I can’t face him right now,” I say, sucking in a breath. “Give me a day or two and I’ll go and see him. Okay?”
As if on cue my phone vibrates across the coffee table with a text message and without even reading it I know it has to be him. I ignore it and seconds later Matty’s cell starts ringing. He turns it towards me and I see Shane’s number lighting up the screen.
“What do you want me to do?” Matty asks, his finger hovering over the lock button.
“Like I said I can’t do it right now. Leave it,” I beg and he looks me over once before nodding reluctantly.
“You can’t ignore him forever,” he says chidingly as he lets the phone go to voice mail. I get to my feet and place the ice cream container on the coffee table. I suddenly feel like I’m going to throw up and I’m not sure if it’s from the pregnancy nausea or the ball of sadness that feels like a weight in my stomach but I know that I can’t talk about this anymore. There are too many thoughts swirling around in my head to process and I need sleep.
“I’m going to crash in your bed,” I tell Matty. “I’m exhausted.”
“Get some rest then, honey, and you can look at all of this tomorrow with a fresh set of eyes,” he says.
I take a deep breath and give him a shaky smile. I know that Matty and Leigh are trying their best to fix the situation but the truth is that I’m pretty sure it’s beyond fixable and that no amount of rest or ‘fresh eyes’ will help. But they do have a point - it’s not just about me anymore and even if there’s no future for us he can have a future with this baby if he wants one.
***
Two days later I’m on my way to track down Shane at his place. I didn’t call first because the phone seemed a poor medium for what I have to say and his texts and voice messages stopped as abruptly as they started.
In between binging on ice cream and violent fits of crying I’ve had some time to think and what I’ve realized is that as much as I want to chase this story to Venezuela I want Shane and this baby even more. I love Shane more intensely than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life and I need to tell him that before he writes us off completely. Having some time to think about it I’ve also been able to consider things from his perspective; learning that your girlfriend is pregnant and leaving for a third world country in the space of mere minutes has to be a lot to digest. Yes, I am the one who tracked down the source and who should be in the throes of the investigation but I also want Shane to know that he is a priority right up there with my ambitions. I called Donovan this morning to let him know that I wouldn’t be joining him. He was disappointed and asked a lot of questions which I had to skillfully deflect but he did eventually agree to try to make it work another way.
It is early evening and the street in front of his condo is bustling with activity. The part of town Shane lives in has gone through a major gentrification recently so there’s no shortage of eateries, bars and live music venues all of which are hopping tonight. I park a few blocks down and half way to his building it starts raining hard which is unusual for this time of year. I get caught right in the downpour so my hair is soaking wet by the time I make it to the front doors.
I practice my speech in the elevator and I have it almost perfect in my head by the time I reach his apartment. I press the buzzer and when the door opens my jaw hits the floor when I see who is standing on the other side of it.
“Carmen,” Allison purrs my name, wearing a smug smile on her lips. I know that she damn well knows my proper name but I don’t bother wasting time to correct her.
“Is Shane here?” I say, swallowing hard as I try to remember Matty’s advice about trusting Shane before trusting someone I barely know, even if that means looking past her short pink silk robe.
“Sorry, he stepped out for a few minutes to get us some dinner. God knows we worked up quite an appetite,” she grins conspiratorially and a pained noise escapes my lips.
“You’re
here
with him?” I say, my voice leaving little room for interpretation.
“I’m here with him,” she nods as if it should be obvious. “After Marco told me about your little ‘side job’ I came to see Shane to tell him just how sorry I was. It’s just like I warned him all along - you are a liar and it took him finding out about your skanky past and this alleged pregnancy for him to finally realize the truth.”
“Which is?” I ask in a voice that is barely above a whisper.
“That you were never going to be good enough for him and that it will take a lot more than some poor-as-a-church-mouse knocked up little Latina to keep him happy.”
I rear back like she’s slapped me. “What?”
“The baby is probably not even his - if there is a baby,” she says cruelly. “Go home, Carmelina. Shane is done with ‘slumming’ it. It’s over.”
Before she can even close the door I’m running back to the elevator as fast as I can. My hands shake as I pull my cell phone from my pocket. I find the contact I’m looking for and press connect and after a few rings his voicemail comes through the line.
You’ve reached the confidential voicemail of Donovan Tate, features Editor with the Austin Observer. Please leave your name and number after the tone and I will return your call by the end of day or press zero and a representative would be happy to assist you.
“Donovan, it’s Carmelina,” I exhale the words in a rush of breath. “Can you call me back? I’ve changed my mind. I need you to book a ticket for me to Venezuela after all.”
When the captain announces our descent into Caracas and the plane starts to dip toward the Simon Bolivar airport Donovan slides open the shade to let in the too-bright sunlight. I lean over him and squint out the window to try and catch a glimpse of the densely populated valley below. Venezuela is more mountainous than I imagined it would be and the tall skyscrapers seem almost as if they are being held-hostage by the tightly packed tenements on all sides. From up here I think the shanty towns look like a bunch of scattered playing cards and as I crane forward to get a better look he chuckles.
“It’s probably wasn’t your first choice for a vacation spot,” he says.
I laugh awkwardly and sit back in my seat but I don’t respond. I’m too embarrassed to tell him that this it’s the only vacation I’ve ever been on having never traveled outside of Texas before. It’s not for lack of want I just never had the money or the opportunity to before. We land and exit the airplane and Donovan tells me that our Caraqueno tour guide will be waiting for us at the baggage area.
Once outside the airport the strong smell of exhaust hits me, followed by the loud noise of traffic and car horns. Our guide tells us that it’s rainy season which might explain why it’s so muggy and why there’s a light drizzle falling on us right now. I follow Donovan into the cab and watch out the window as he converses with the guide in Spanish. Apparently Donovan is fluent also and I silently wonder if I am the only person in Texas who doesn’t know the language.
As the car speeds along the modern freeway that bisects the lush valley I take in the colorful city that houses more than four million people. The tenements that were visible from the sky look so different up close. They are painted in shades of blue, pink and green and are balanced so precariously on the hillside that they look like they are resting right on top of each other. My first impression is that it’s a city of contrasts; both a forested valley and concrete jungle; an urban metropolis and a place of shanty towns. The taxi stops in front of a high rise hotel nestled at the foot of the Avila mountain range.
We enter the hotel and Donovan checks us in at the desk while our guide, whose name is Renzo, offers to take my bags to my room. I thank him at the same time my stomach rumbles. I clutch it and smile embarrassedly though I’m not surprised by my reaction since it was such a long flight. I’m also feeling pretty lightheaded so I excuse myself to sit down in one of the lobby chairs.
