Out Bad (13 page)

“Maybe you could show it to me sometime.”

He hesitated.  Taking her to his house might be a bad
idea.  If she hated it, he would want to rethink all his plans for the
future.  If she loved it… 

Well then he was going to have a real hard time keeping
himself from trying everything until he figured out how to get her there with
him.

“Sometime.”  He smiled at her as he pulled the keys
from the ignition and opened his door.  He took off for the passenger
side, getting to her door just in time to shut it as she got out.

Without the door between them, Gwen took a step forward and
rested her hand on his chest.  “Sorry.  I wasn't…” 

She looked down at her shoes for a second before looking
back up at him.  “Most men don’t usually do things like open doors for
me.”  A hint of regret flashed through her eyes.

“I’m not like most men.”  It was true.  In good
ways and bad, he seemed different from most men he knew.

“I know.”  She leaned up and brushed a quick kiss
across his cheek.  “Thank you.”

Gwen almost stopped on the sidewalk when she saw the look on
her sister’s face as she opened the door.  Instead she smiled and forced
her feet to keep moving toward the porch.  Gabbi did not look happy.

 “What’s going on?” 

The accusatory tone in her sister’s voice did however, stop
her.  “Um.  We came to take care of the girls.”  Did she have
the wrong night?  “Aren’t you going out?”

"I meant--"

“Hey Gabs.”  Joe placed his hand on the small of Gwen's
back, urging her to continue up the front steps ahead of him.  He paused
as he passed Gabbi and gave her a quick hug.  Even having a man like Joe
wrapping his arms around her didn’t seem to budge her sister's sour mood. 

Gwen caught her sister whispering at Joe, but before she
could even try to make out the words, Heath bolted through the kitchen
doorway. 

“Gab, honey.  We are going to be l-", he stopped
mid-sentence when he saw the group in his living room.  His eyes bounced
between Gwen and Joe before finally landing, and staying on his wife. 

Was it really that big of a deal that she was here with
him?  Was it because it was Joe or would they have acted this ridiculous
over her showing up with any man?  She sighed.  The sight of her with
any man at this point probably would have elicited the same reaction.

“Hey Heath.” 

An awkward silence descended on the room as the four of them
stood staring at each other.  Obviously this was not what they were
expecting.

“Auntie Gwen!”  The sound of two small voices broke the
quiet of the room an instant before the boundless bundles of energy they
belonged to came running in like a tornado.

“Hey girls!”  She braced herself as they hit her legs,
both wrapping their chubby little arms around her.

“Gab, we have to go.”  Heath mussed each little head of
brown hair before thanking Joe and dragging his wife out the door.

Now at the bottom of a little girl pile on the living room
floor, Gwen tried not to be a little miffed over their reaction.  They
probably never expected to see her with any man, let alone their friend. 
A friend they’d been careful to never introduce her to.  Realization hit
her like a ton of bricks.

Maybe they didn’t want her to be with Joe.

The small pangs of hurt at their reaction quickly turned to
snarling flames of anger.  Why wouldn’t they want her to be with
Joe?  He owned a successful business, a home, and was easy on the
eyes.  They were his friends, obviously his past hadn’t been a big deal to
them.  Maybe it wasn’t.  At least until it hit a little close to
home.

Rolling a squealing three-year-old to her side, she looked
up to find Joe still standing quietly in the corner where he’d been since his
whispered conversation with Gabbi.  He was staring out the large front
window, his jaw set in a tight line, lost in his own thoughts.  What had
Gabbi said to upset him?

“Come on!”  Cassondra was on her feet, pulling at
Gwen’s hand.  “Let’s go play dolls.”

“
Wet’s
go play
dows
!” 
Little Caroline followed her big sister’s lead and grabbed the other hand, each
girl pulling with all her might.

“Okay.  Okay.  You girls get set up I’ll be in
in
just a minute.” 

Her nieces took off down the hall their gleeful laughter
bouncing off the walls.  She couldn’t help but smile at their
enthusiasm.  Those girls had brightened more than a few of her bad days
over the years. 

She sat up and started to push herself up.  Before her
ass even cleared the floor, Joe was at her side, helping her up.

Years of taking care of herself had her starting to tell him
she was fine to get up on her own, instead, she let him help her. “Thank
you.” 

She expected him to let go once she was on her feet, but the
warmth of his hand continued to heat her skin through her sweater.  He
looked as if he wanted to say something. Before she could find out, their
private moment was shanghaied by two loud little girls with armfuls of
Barbies
in various stages of dress.

“Are you coming?  We’re ready.”  Cassondra jutted
her lower lip out as she held up a doll with long blonde hair, shiny gold pants
and no shirt.  “This one’s you.”

Joe eyed the doll as the little girl shoved it in her
hands.  “You have a side job I should know about?”

“Very funny.”  She smoothed the matted clump of hair
hanging to the dolls unnaturally bodacious butt.  “Do you have a doll for
Joe?” 

“Caroline has his doll.”  Cassondra turned to her sister. 
“Give Uncle Joe his doll.” 

She gently helped the smaller girl pick a doll out of the
five she had wrapped in her arms.  It was a brown haired version in a
fluffy pink ball gown and matching pumps.  She held the doll up as high as
she could to Joe.  “We kept her the same, just like we promised.”

The idea of Joe sitting on the floor playing dolls with the
girls was not hard to imagine.  He might look a little intimidating at
first, but it didn't take her long to realize regardless of, or maybe because
of where he’d been, the man was one of the gentlest she’d ever met.  It
did however surprise her just a little to discover he had his own doll. 
In the puffiest, pinkest,
sparkliest
dress she’d ever
seen.

Joe took his doll and spun her slowly, inspecting. 
“She’s almost as pretty as you two.”

The girls giggled as they each grabbed one of his big hands
and drug him down the hall to their room leaving Gwen to follow behind. 

As much as she loved sitting on the floor playing with the
girls, Gwen found herself standing at the door watching as all three sat on the
floor and reenacted fairytales. 

Joe was right.  He wasn't like most men.  He was
different from anyone she'd ever met.  Never had she imagined to find a
man she could tolerate, let alone someone like him.

She blinked quickly, stopping the tears edging her
eyes. 

Watching him with the girls was bringing up feelings she’d
ignored and shoved away.  Her throat grew tight as a longing she’d
convinced herself she didn’t have, tugged at her. 

A man like that needed to be a father.  And a
husband. 

What would it be like to have a husband?  What would
Joe be like as a husband?  She imagined he was the kind of man who would
do whatever it took to take care of his family.  Provide them with
everything they needed and wanted.  Not just in a financial sense, but
every sense. 

Joe turned to her, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes
sparkling like the night sky as the girls pranced around him, using their
miniature brushes to assault the shiny waves of his hair. 

“I think Auntie Gwen needs her hair done too.”  He
winked at her as the girls abandoned him to drag her into their makeshift
salon.

Ten minutes later the girls had moved onto coloring at the
kitchen table while Gwen sat on the couch with Joe behind her carefully
unwinding her hair from three different Barbie brushes.

“Why are they only stuck in my hair?”  One brush
dropped softly into her lap.  She felt his gentle tugging move to free a
brush on the other side of her head.

“Your hair is quite a bit softer than mine.  These
little teeth grab right onto it.”  Another brush joined the first.  

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

The third brush made a soft plastic click as it fell onto
its two friends.  “I like taking care of you.” 

He ran his hands through her hair working out the tangles
caused by the brushes.  She closed her eyes, enjoying his touch as it
continued long after the last snarl was gone, and wondering if he would ever
let her return the favor.

 ****

Gwen sat at the high top table beside the bar as she waited
for Gabbi.  She checked her phone.  Fifteen minutes late wasn’t
actually late for her sister.  She had always been late to everything,
even before she became a mother.  The addition of children added another
ten minutes. Five minutes later, she came breezing through the door of their
favorite lunch spot in jeans and a t-shirt, her hair waded in a bun on the top
of her head. 

Gwen had always been inwardly critical of her sister’s lack
of self-maintenance.  After yesterday she had decided to at least forgive
the bun.  It wouldn’t surprise her to discover Gabbi wore it like that to
hide patches of missing hair that had fallen victim to a cheap tiny plastic
brush.

She reached the table and slung her gigantic bag over the
back of the chair across from Gwen.  “Hey.  Sorry.” 

 “Not a problem.”  She sat as Gabbi ordered a
drink, the pit in her stomach growing with each passing second.  Her
sister had been pretty insistent on getting together.  And that was before
she knew about Joe.   

 “What’s up?”  Gwen tried to keep her voice
casual, but she wanted to get the ball rolling.  Find out why she was
here.

 “That’s what I'd like to know.  I was going to
ask you why you've been acting weird, but I guess now I know.”  Gabbi
leaned forward.  "Joe?  You couldn't give me a heads up about
that?"

"What did you want me to say?"

Gabbi threw her hands up.  "I don't know.  At
least tell me.  Give me the chance to talk to you about it."

"We're not in freaking high school.  We don't need
to sit and braid each other's hair while we talk about the boys we're
dating."

"So you're dating him?"  Gabbi rubbed her
temples.

“I don’t really know.  It’s been kind of a confusing
few weeks.”  She used her straw to stir the ice in her glass, sending it
swirling through the water like a cyclone.

Gabbi sat across the table silently.  Her face
unreadable.

"I kind of expected you to think it was a good
thing.  That I was finally moving on."  Gwen's voice caught just
a little.  She sipped at her water hoping to calm the muscles of her throat
as they started tightening up.

"I don't know that you're ready for that Gwen."
 

Gwen looked across the table.  "That's not for you
to decide.  I'm a big girl.  I can handle myself."

"You're not the only one I'm worried about
here."  Gabbi crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat.

"It's really none of your business."

 “It is!  Joe has been through some really awful
things in his life.  Things that would shock you-"

“You mean prison?”  The fact that Gabbi knew more about
Joe than she did and was throwing it in her face, annoyed the piss out of
her.  She wanted to be sure it was clear she wasn't as in the dark about
Joe's life as Gabbi might think.

Gabbi
snarked
.  “No.  I
don’t mean prison.”

The waitress arrived to set Gabbi’s drink on the table, effectively
hitting the pause button on their conversation.  “You guys ready to
order?”

Gwen’s stomach growled.  Her appetite had grown with
her aggravation at Gabbi for being more worried about Joe than her own damn
sister.

“Yup.  I want a burger with everything but cheese, and
fries.”  She paused.  “Please.”  She handed her menu to the
waitress.  “And can you bring me a Coke when you have time?”

She looked back to find her sister staring at her with her
mouth hanging slightly open.  “What?”

Gabbi drew her eyebrows together as she handed her menu to
the waitress.  “I’ll have the same.”

As soon as the waitress stepped away, Gabbi leaned halfway
across the table.  “What in the hell is going on with you?”

“I’m hungry.”  Christ.  Couldn’t a girl forgo a
salad without persecution?  “You ordered the same damn thing.”

“Yes, but I always order that kind of shit.  You
don’t.  I haven’t seen you eat anything besides a salad in years.”

“I eat soup.”

“The kind you eat is just wet salad.  First you start
acting weird, then you show up with Joe.  Now you order lunch like a
teenage boy.  What the hell Gwen?”

“Why is how I’m living my life so upsetting to you? 
You never seemed to have much to say about it before.”  It was one of her
favorite things about her sister.  She didn’t meddle in her life. 
Apparently she was saving it all up.

“What was I supposed to do?  You moved away.  You
cut me out.”

"And now that I'm back you want to make up for lost
time?"

"No.  I just want you to be happy.  But I
want him to be happy too."  Gabbi shook her head.  "I just
don't think you two are in the same place right now.  He's
different.  He lives a different life than you.  Wants a different
life than you have."

Gwen slammed her hands on the table and leaned in. 
"What kind of life is it you think I have?"

“You have everything Gwen.  The job, the house, the
car, the,” Gabbi gestured to the purse slung over the chair beside Gwen,
“handbags.”

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”  That
was all just stuff.  Shit to pass the time, fill the void.

“Then enlighten me.”

Gwen stared across the table at her sister and thought of
all the things she'd really wanted in her life.  Her throat
tightened.  She took a sip of her water to try to calm the muscles and
give herself a second to try to get it together a little bit.

“Everything else I wanted was dead.”

Gabbi fidgeted with the wrapper of her straw, obviously
uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken.  Normally Gwen
would have backed off, happy to avoid the discussion as well, but lately she'd
been feeling anything but normal.

They'd never discussed Jason's
death. 
Not when it happened, not at the funeral, not in the years since. 
Emotional expression outside of bickering was not an encouraged activity in
their house growing up and it carried over into their adulthood. 

Her family had hugged her and told her they were sorry, but
that had been the extent of emotional support she'd received.  After that,
no one brought it up and neither did she.  Life went on.  Sort of.