What Brings Me to You (5 page)

*****

              "Where do you live?"

              I sat on top of my sweaty hands in the passenger seat to keep them from shaking. I wanted to wipe them on my thigh but I didn't want it to be so obvious I was internally freaking. My shell could not crack, though the mushy interior was pushing on all walls like concrete against glass. I’d had these moments before but with Teddy every look, every touch, every heartbeat seemed to be magnified and every time I felt like this. Like I was going to lose the tenuous grip I had on reality. When you go through the kinds of things that I went through, there’s such a fine line between a great day and a
cluster fuck
, a line that I’d learned, in my own way, to skirt. Being with Teddy blurred that line so much, and I was on the precipice of a possible disaster.

              "Charley? Did you hear me?"

              "I...I don't...not yet, okay?"

              "What?" the look in his eyes was concern and question. There was something else, too. Something wonderfully warm and familiar like a quilt or a hug. It calmed me enough to tell him the truth.

              "I'm not ready for you to see my house, okay? Can you just drop me off right here?"

              "Charley, this is the middle of downtown Tampa. It's dangerous. I'm not letting you walk all the way by yourself," I wanted to cry with how nice he was being but I couldn't let him see my house.     

              "Just drop me off at the University campus. We're only about a mile from my place. I just...I'm not ready." The intent concern in his eyes wavered as he looked thoroughly conflicted, but slowed the car and let me out on the brick paved road of the University of Tampa. "Please be careful." He said.

              "Got it, boss." The physical distance between us seemed to bring back that apprehension, but I couldn’t let him see it after he’d reluctantly agreed to drop me off.

              "When will I see you again?" he asked through the open window of the passenger door, the concern in his voice audible.

              "Tomorrow of course." I smiled trying to bring some levity to the conversation. It didn’t work, but he drove away anyway.

              When I arrived at the house, almost twenty minutes later, Paul's car was pulling out of the drive. I hid behind the  azalea  bush of our neighbor's yard before he could see me. He seemed agitated, but then again Paul always seemed agitated. It was strange that he was home in the middle of the day, but sometimes he came home to eat lunch with mother. When I opened the door, mother was sitting at the counter in the kitchen with a cup of tea. She was dressed like she and Paul had come from the country club, she was in an ivory color accented with navy blue from head to toe, like a sailor’s rich sugar mama. For all the things I should hate my mother for, her looks are at the top of the list. My mother was a beautiful woman, even as she got older. She was always so stylish, even with three children, and her skin was flawless due to her stringent and unswerving night routine. I'm only four or so inches taller than her, but I've got broad shoulders and long limbs. If I wasn't so hippy, or if my mother would’ve allowed it I'd have been a great addition to a swimming team.

              Mother didn't look stereotypically Jewish, like Paul, especially since she kept her hair blond. She hadn't quite been waiting for me, I doubt she even knew I was gone, but she didn't look surprised when I came in the door. Mother, typically, was more laid back with me when it was just us, but she stayed on guard. This time she wasn't quite as relaxed. She didn't even look up at me before she gave me her standard greeting: "Charlotte, did you go to the beach like that?" That's mother.
You're leaving the house like that? You're going to bed like that?
     
Here we go,
I thought
.

              "Yes, mother."

              "Darling, you really need to think about your appearance."

              "What's there to think about, mother?" 
The fact that I’m a disappointment, obviously.

              "You need to cover yourself up, Charlotte. Showing all of that skin…it’s distasteful. You won’t attract any boy worth attracting looking like that"     
Please make this stop. Please. 
Thankfully, she didn't launch into her usual tirade but instead kept her eyes on her tea mug  as she pulled a white envelope from her purse.     

              "Something came for you."

              "What is it?"

              "It's from Yale," and she slid the envelope over the counter without making eye contact. My heart fluttered in my chest. Of all the ones, this was the one I wanted to hear from the most and it came last. I just stared at the insignia in disbelief. In awe. I didn't want to touch it but I knew it'd traveled a great distance for me to open it. In that moment I longed for Teddy. I wanted someone to share the moment with, someone who really could be happy for me. It was a painful realization that no matter what was in that envelope, I'd never be satisfied. No one would clap for me. There'd be no parties for me. Paul wouldn't embrace me and call me his daughter and be proud of me. I'd always be a stain on the family name even if I got into Yale, which infuriated me.     

              "Charlotte, I thought we talked about this?" I had almost forgotten she was there. My head snapped to attention and she was looking at me. Not like I had just  received  a letter from Yale, but like I was a dense child who kept asking
Why? Why? Why?
when the only answer left is
just because
. I hated that look. I hated her, everything about the house, and everything about my life in that moment.     

              "We did mother. Ad nauseam. I know where I stand. Don't worry."

              "I just--," she stammered and looked at her hands. She was stalling. She wanted me to reassure her that I was okay but it wasn't, so I couldn't. When she looked up it wasn't love in her eyes but fear and I could bet my life on what the next words out of her mouth would've been, sure enough I was right:  "If Paul had seen it..."

              "Fuck. Paul." I ran up to my room, letter in hand without a backward glance, mentally kicking myself for losing my cool even for a second. I couldn’t give an inch. Not to her or anyone. I was already in a position of weakness, I couldn’t let them think I was weaker.

              It was anti-climactic. Opening  the letter. All the others had said the same thing, so I tossed it on top of the pile on my desk.

CHAPTER FOUR

Teddy

              She almost gave nothing away, and maybe if it was anyone else they wouldn’t have noticed. But I saw the look in her deep brown eyes when I touched her; they were hungry and vulnerable in a way that she hid so well everywhere else. I knew she felt it too and electricity of our combined attraction crackled between us. I liked seeing her in my car, curled up like she belonged there, eating cheap drive-thru food like it was caviar. It was such a turn on watching her eat. The way that she enjoyed food with sensual abandon betrayed her calm, collected façade. All I could think about was how voraciously she would devour me in the bedroom. If it was anything like the way she attacked a hamburger…I couldn’t even think about it without getting hard.              

              There was still that nagging part of me that knew something was off. The more time I spent with her, the more self conscious she was about her body, not less. The more she covered it up with wraps and towels. Not like that did much to hide how skinny she was. I thought at first it was because she liked it that way, but then she’d out eat me every time we went to lunch. And I made sure, from that first time on, I fed her often. I’d bring her food from home and we’d go out together, sometimes twice in one beach day. She never turned down food, which was so incongruous with the way she looked and carried herself.

              Still, I liked her. For the most part she seemed not to care whether I was around or not, unlike most of the clingy girls I’d been with. Maybe I liked her because I wanted, in some small way, to rebel against you, Lace. I wanted her to be my savior. I wanted her to show me that it was okay to walk away from a life that didn’t really feel my own; that I didn’t’ really belong or fit into anymore. I needed, more than anything, for her to tell me it was okay. Chewing my sandwich one day, the combined aroma of greasy fast food and her natural peachy scent filling the car and making me drunk, she broke our comfortable silence.

              “Teddy, I'm going to ask you a question and I want an honest answer."

              "Have I ever given you anything but honest?"

              "I don't think so, but I don't want you to start now, okay?"

              "Okay, just spit it out."

              "How long, realistically, can this, whatever it is with us, last?"

              "Well, when classes start I won't be able to hang out at the beach all day anymore if that's what you're asking. Are you trying to define us Charley?" She paused, considering.

              “We’re friends." She said slowly. “At least until classes start. Maybe not even ‘till then.”

              "You sick of me already?"

              "Getting there,” she said with this sexy smile on just one side of her mouth. “Look, the reason I ask is because I have a proposition for you."

              Finally!
I wanted to fist pump the air but didn’t want to jinx the moment. I knew she wanted me. I was already getting excited thinking about seeing her body; drinking in her skin with my tongue and my hands and my tongue. I was so ready. More than ready but I couldn’t let so I did what I did best with girls: played dumb. "Oh? A proposition?"

              "Yes. I think we've got a really unique opportunity here. I mean, our relationship is temporal at best. And even if it weren't, I don't think being long term friends is in the cards for either of us because, frankly, I think you're a pain in the ass and I know that the feeling is mutual."

She had a point, sort of.
Get to the propositioning already, please. I could take you right here on this beach. With my tongue. Did I already mention that?
"Go on."

              "So I propose that we dispense with the nonsense and just be real. You clearly need someone in your life willing to call you out on your bull.”

              “Oh and you don’t?”

              She smiled. “Maybe I do. This agreement would work both ways.”

              “So total honesty.”

              “Total and brutal. Yeah. Deal?” I looked at her like she was crazy, but her face said she wasn't kidding, which gave me pause. I hadn’t been truly honest with anyone, especially myself in a long time. Somewhere in me I knew that it could only end badly, but I couldn't say no. I wasn't ready to give her up. I rationalized that brutal honesty could actually be good -I could tell her how much I wanted her and could honestly claim her body. I knew it was flimsy but, I needed to be around her. She was drug. A fixation. An escape from my life.        

              "Deal." We shook on it and that same electric feeling charged up the air in the car between us like the last tiem I’d touched her. Her skin was supple and warm and I found myself running my hand along the inside of her wrist long after the handshake should’ve been over. Her pupils dialated and her breath quickened, but before I could fully enjoy what my touch could do to her she broke contact.

              "Good.” She cleared her throat and rubber her wrist where my hand had been. “Me first: who's the girl?"

              Shit. Play dumb.
"Who?"             

              "Her." She said as she tossed a photo in my lap.   
Goddamnit! How did this end up back here? I thought I got rid of everything!
    I could feel my jaw clenching which was an immediate tell and she picked up on it right away. I was already resenting this brutal honesty pact.

              "C'mon, Teddy, quit stalling. We said brutal honesty so just tell me."

              "Ex," That goddamned picture. I was going to kill you, Lacey. Or your mother. Probably both.

              "That's bullshit. C'mon Teddy, don't lie. If she's your girlfriend you can tell her not to worry about me. Obviously I pose no threat to her."

              "She's just an ex."

              "How long did you date?"

              "A while."

              "Was it an amicable parting?"

              "Mostly."

              "So, you're still friends?"

              "Sometimes."

              "Sometimes? What does that mean?"

              I didn't want her to know that I was still sleeping with you, Lace. That the first thing I thought of when she tossed that picture in my lap was angry-fucking you for planting it there. I didn't want Charley to see me for what I really was. What I really am: an asshole. If she knew, I'd most definitely be in her "bastard" camp of men. A guy who used a woman for what he could, and then discarded her. I was like that because of you, Lace. How could I connect with any woman in any real way when I was sleeping with you? Charley couldn’t see me like that. I liked that she liked me and thought I was decent; honest. I wanted her to imagine I was in a committed relationship instead of having casual sex with someone I, for the most part, couldn’t stand to be around. At least in the situation of the former I was, to her, a decent guy. Maybe even a chivalrous gentleman. I didn't want to be exposed an asshole. Not yet. I couldn't lose her yet.

              "It means sometimes! Jesus, let it go."

              "Okay fine,” she huffed and lifted her burger to her lips. I loved watching her take a bite so I inclined my head to look at her. Just before she did she stopped. “Just one more, what's her name?"

              "Lacey. Lacey Cramer."

*****

              There are a lot of things I wish I'd have done before you died, Lace. Least of all was stay together. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I could be the good guy, be the hero and make everyone happy by giving everyone what they wanted and denying myself what I wanted. In the end, the exact opposite turned out to be true. I know it’s irrational, but because I took it upon myself to be the arbiter of everyone’s happiness I now blame myself for everyone’s misery.

              I don’t want to say I hate you because I was taught not to speak ill of the dead, but I really wish I’d have told you that to your face when you were alive. When we were kids, I liked the cat and mouse game with you, but it got boring and then, when I learned the truth about love and about you, I stopped caring. Cared even less when I knew you were sleeping with someone else, I actually, for a minute, felt bad for whatever poor miserable bastard had ended up with you.

              I remember our last conversation so vividly. There are so many things I wish I’d said to you before you died, Lace. I don’t know why I didn’t. I read somewhere that love and hate are two sides of the same coin, so  maybe somewhere down deep I loved you. I don’t really know. If I’d known that they were going to be my last words to you maybe they would’ve been more profound. Maybe I would’ve  told you the truth of how I felt. It was 10:30 on a Thursday.

              "Yello?"

              "Teddy, it's Lacey."

              "I know, Lace. What is it?"

              "I just wanted you to know I'll be heading out of town for a bit.”

              “And I care because…?”

              “Ugh, stop being an ass. You know I can’t tell anyone else and I need you to look after the place while I’m gone.”

              "Oh? Why can’t you have Rosalita do it?

              "If you must know it’s because I don’t trust that wetback with my things when I’m not there. She does not have a key, and she will certainly not be going through my mail”.

              "Well aren’t you sweet.” I hoped she could hear my eyes roll through the phone. “So, are you going for business or pleasure?"

              "Teddy--"

              "Hey, it’s not an unreasonable question. Besides, you called me. As my
wife
I think I ought to know the details."

              "Jesus, Teddy you're really impossible."

              “Are you going with 
him
?" I didn’t really care. Actually it was just a fun way to torment you because you hated discussing him with anyone, least of all me.

              "Oh for Christ's sake. If you must know, yes. We've been working on this, erm, 
partnership
  for a very long time and we're presenting it to the rest of the board."

              "Have a nice time. Are you traveling together?"

              "Jesus, Gunther! Yes. It doesn’t make sense to take two vehicles."

              "Don't call me that."

              "Someone is a little testy."

              "Vehicles?"

              "Yes. All the head honchos are at a resort in Cocoa for some retreat. He's got to demonstrate with the equipment there as part of a spa package. It’s too short a trip to take the jet."

              "You mean it’ll be more fun to drive.” She was silent on the other end of the phone. “So you’ll be staying together too, I presume."

              "Yes as a matter of fact."

              "Is that for economic reasons, too?"

              "Are you jealous or something, Teddy?"

              "Hardly. I’m just curious to know if his wife is okay with this cozy little arrangement."

              "Why do you care?"

              "Why don't you?

              "Because I'm a FUCKING BITCH! Is that what you want to hear?! Does that make it all better?”

              “Whatever, Lacey, I honestly don’t care what you do, but, you’re messing around with someone’s marriage--”

              “We’re married, too, Teddy.” You seemed softer then for a beat. Almost like the girl I used to know and that pissed me off more than anything because I knew it was an act.               That you were trying to play me.

              “Yeah well it’s different with us and you know it,” I said the contempt flaring in my throat.

              "Listen, this has been a treat, as always, but I have to go. He’ll be here any second."

              "Someone is going to get hurt, Lace.” I was half teasing you. I mean, I knew you were headed for disaster. But if I’d known it was going to be that night, if I’d known the level of catastrophe…shit…I don’t really know what I’d have done differently, or if it would’ve mattered to you anyway.

              "Goodbye Teddy." You hung up without waiting for a response. I think it was better that way.

*****

              Here’s the moment I knew I was in trouble. She was on her back cackling like a hyena, getting sand in her hair. I don't think I'd ever heard anyone laugh that hard, especially at my expense.

              "Gunther?! Your first name is Gunther?!"

              "Shut up." You know how much I hated when people made fun of my name, right?  But her doing it was
nice
. I was glad to see her smile. It brightened up her already gorgeous face. She could keep laughing at me if it made her look like that, if it allowed her to drop her defenses for a moment.