Read A Way to Get By Online

Authors: T. Torrest

A Way to Get By (4 page)

   He shrugged. “I’d hardly call them romance novels. And for the record, my favorite books are mysteries. But yes, they kept me entertained.”

   I was stunned. I had no idea what to make of him. “
You’re
a mystery, Wilson Edwards.”

   “Well then there now. I suppose that’s a valid assessment.” He gave an exaggerated scratch to his chin along with an adorable grin which had me giggling all over again.

   I couldn’t believe it. When Eddie was being real, he was the sweetest guy I’d ever met. The false bravado he put me through all evening was worth it to get to this guy who was underneath it all.

   “Favorite movie,” he asked, getting back on topic.

   I’d gone from put-off to angry to turned-on to surprised over the span of one night with my unpredictable date. Now, all I was feeling was… happy. Our eyes met in anticipation of more than just my answer to his question.

   “This one.”

   Before I could stop myself, I was tipping my face up to his. Eddie took the cue and met my lips with his own. This kiss was much sweeter than our first. I could feel his restraint, his attempt to keep his hands clasped against his sides, his unwillingness to scare me off again.

   Even still, my heart pounded inside my chest. His mouth was soft yet insistent against mine, his breath tickling against my skin. He tasted so good, like Butter Rum Life Savers on Christmas morning. I breathed in, a shaky inhale that absorbed the pine needle scent of the surrounding trees.
My hands reached out blindly toward his and I twined our fingers together.

  
He pulled back, breaking our kiss, a satisfied grin spreading across his features. “This is, by far, the best birthday ever.”

  I was still trying to get my racing heart under control as I stared at him in shock. “It’s your birthday? And you chose to spend it with me?” I suddenly felt guilty for being so argumentative all night.
Then again, that was before I knew what a nice guy he could be.

  
He put a hand at my neck, his lips doing that crooked smile thing again. “I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather spend the night with.”

   
I didn’t get a chance to chastise him for his leading comment, because Anthony’s voice piped in before mine could. “See, Gin? I knew they’d be perfect together.”

   Eddie and I both turned toward our friends. Virginia looked out of breath—yet relieved—while Anthony looked rather composed—yet smug. “When you stormed off, Ginny wanted to chase after the both of you but I convinced her to give you a little alone time.”

  
My best friend and I caught each other’s eyes as Eddie threw an arm around me and shot back, “So why are you bugging us now just when things are getting good?”

CHAPTER 6

Half a Mile Away

 

 

BRENDA

Monday, September 22

1980

 

D
inner at Tony and Ginny’s. Great.

   I knew they’d try and stop this, but I also knew there wasn’t anything they could say to change our minds. Eddie and I needed to do this. We’d tear each other apart otherwise.

   I sat down on the edge of the bed to put my heels on, but I lost my balance and sank into the mattress with a squish. The stupid waterbed. I don’t know what the hell Eddie was thinking when he bought the damn thing.

   A few years back, the two of us were getting ready to go out for our customary anniversary celebration at The Plaza. No matter how bad our financial situation got, we’d always manage to pull it together enough to hit New York City for a few drinks. I’d throw on a pretty dress; Eddie always wore his suit.

   That year, though, we had a slight excess of cash. Unbeknownst to me, Eddie had been saving up for a couple of years. Had I known there was any extra money socked away, I would have used it to pay for school or found some other just-as-good place to invest it. But apparently, Eddie had other ideas.

   He’d been sitting in the living room with ants in his pants and I didn’t know what the heck was going on. Sure enough, the doorbell rang and Eddie jumped up to answer it. He was met with a couple of Sears delivery guys hauling in box after box, and Eddie directed them to our bedroom. The only thing we had in that room was our bare mattress on the floor and a few laundry baskets that held our clothes, so it was no problem for Eddie to clear a space for my present.

   It was a sweet gesture, really. And trust me, we made good use of the thing. But every time I went to lay down on that damned waterbed, I couldn’t escape the feeling that I was laying across my abandoned college degree.

   I dislodged myself from the confines of my squishy prison and stood up to check my reflection in the wall mirror. I didn’t know why I felt the need to get all dolled up, but something about looking my best always gave me a boost of confidence.

   Smoothing my hands down the front of my red wrap dress, I was thinking about how unfair it was of me to wear the thing. It was always Eddie’s favorite dress on me, one which was never worn for more time than it took for him to rip it off my body.

   I hadn’t seen him in over a week, ever since he packed his bags and moved out. The original plan was that he’d sleep in Virginia and Anthony’s guest room but he must’ve come up with a different arrangement at the last minute. I had no idea where he’d been spending his nights. I’d already started to get paranoid that he found some hot-to-trot
hussy’s place to crash. The thought made me physically ill.

   Maybe I was overreacting. Eddie probably just didn’t want to deal with the pressure of our friends’ unyielding questions, as evidenced by the fact that as soon as those two got wind of our separation, they immediately stepped in to play Marriage Counselors. I felt pretty guilty going into the night knowing there was nothing they could say or do to repair things.

   The divorce was
going
to happen.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 7

Pressure

 

 

EDDIE

Monday, September 22

1980

 

 

S
o I was wearing a suit. So what. Is it so wrong that I wanted to make Brenda drool? She bought the damn thing for me, the only expensive suit I owned. Dark, charcoal gray, suitable for weddings and funerals, which were the only two places I’d ever need to wear it. Although, I guessed it worked just as well for torturing my soon-to-be ex-wife.

   The separation was her idea, after all. Of course it was.

   I would have been perfectly happy living out the rest of my days wrapped up in her arms. But when you have a marriage where only one person is invested in making it work, it
can’t
work. No matter what I said to convince her otherwise, Bren dug her heels in and refused to budge.

   “We’re doing this,” she finally said. Just like that. Like it wasn’t even worth talking about anymore. Just pulled my ratty old Samsonite out of our closet and asked me to start packing.

   I guessed it was her decision to keep the apartment, too.

   The irony is, after all her talk about never having any money, I’d holed myself up at The Norman Inn
.
The place was an overpriced, brand new, luxury B&B but I didn’t feel the least bit guilty charging my credit card to pay for the extravagance.

   The money would be there to cover it soon enough.

 

 

* * *

 

 

   The smell of onions and boiled meat punched me in the face as I walked through the front door of Tony and Ginny’s house. It was the kind of food-perfume that was strong enough to permeate any porous substance within a twenty-mile radius. Although, if I’m going to be honest, my mouth was already watering for the pot roast I assumed was on the menu. I also assumed I was going to have to get my suit dry-cleaned in order to abolish the smell.

   Their house was a simple, brick, cookie-cutter cape right down the street from the restaurant; their neighborhood was a suburban paradise. The men who lived there worked nine-to-five jobs while the women stayed home with their two-point-five children, tended to their gardens, and had a hot dinner waiting on the table when their husbands got home from a long, hard day.

   In other words, picture-perfect enough to make me want to barf.

   Tony and Ginny broke the mold, though. Restaurant hours were hardly nine to five, and while Ginny enjoyed cooking and gardening, she had no children to tend to. Not yet, anyway. But I knew Mrs. Leone had been pressuring them to tell her “some good news” practically since their wedding day, and I could only imagine there’d be a dead rabbit soon enough. In the meantime, she staved off the lonely evenings doing volunteer work for the church.

   The very church where Bren and I were married.

   “There he is!” Ginny offered with a huge smile as I entered the kitchen. Under the circumstances, she was trying her best to be cheerful. Too cheerful, if you ask me. Nevertheless, I slipped an arm around her waist to kiss her hello. Ginny was a lip-kisser, and we’d known each other for so long that I didn’t even find it odd anymore. I didn’t think twice as I went to plant one on her, only for her to offer me her cheek at the last second.

   Huh.

   For all her theatrical joyfulness, I got the impression she wasn’t feeling quite so affectionate toward me that night. I wanted to scream
It’s not my fault!
but I couldn’t open that can of worms. Yes, Ginny was my friend. But she was Brenda’s
best
friend. I knew where her loyalties needed to lie.

   Her husband, however, was strictly on Team Eddie.

  
At least he’d better be.

   Tony barreled through the back door, greeting, “Hey man,” before rifling through the fridge. He came up with two bottles of Lowenbraü and handed one to me.

   “Thanks. Hey, sorry, I didn’t even think to grab a bottle of wine or something.”

   Tony waved me off. “Nah. You never show up empty-handed. I think we’ll give you a pass. We’ve got plenty here.”

   “Yeah. I guess I was distracted tonight.”

   Ginny shot her husband a quick, worrisome glance. We all knew why I was distracted. It was the whole reason I was there, for godsakes.
May as well address the elephant now; it’ll be stampeding through here in a matter of minutes anyhow.

   “How are you with all this, Eddie?” Ginny asked with legitimate concern.

   Before I could stop myself, my voice barked out, “How the fuck do you
think
I am?”

   There was an awkward silence as Tony slowly put his beer on the counter, crossed his arms, and shot a warning look at me. “I’ll give you exactly ten seconds to apologize to my wife.”

   I ran a hand through my hair as the air drained from my body. Just because Bren was tormenting me didn’t mean I needed to be rude to Ginny. “You’re right. I had no right to speak to her that way.” I turned toward my childhood friend and offered genuinely, “I’m sorry, Gin.”

   Ginny met my eyes in empathy before wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. “It’s okay. We’re all feeling a little uptight about this whole thing.”

   I hugged her back. “Yeah, well, my
pants
are feeling a little uptight. Jesus, Ginny, when did your tits get this big?”

   I shot a wink at Tony who just dropped his head chuckling. This was the kind of relationship the four of us have always had. You can’t grow up together for twenty years without busting a few chops.

   In any case, my comment succeeded in jogging Ginny out of her anxiety and brought us back to our normal banter. She pulled back laughing, then smacked me across my arm. “You’re so bad, Eddie!”

   I wiggled my eyebrows at her blushing face as my teeth made a welcome appearance. It was the first authentic smile I’d cracked since Bren and I separated.

   And then it immediately disappeared as she walked through the door.

   Like me, Bren didn’t bother to knock before swooping into the house, and the sound of her footsteps coming closer caused a panic to shoot down my spine. Trying to appear casual, I took a huge swig off of my beer… but I almost choked on it when I saw her rounding the corner.

   The Fucking Red Dress.

   Jesus. Looked like Bren was pulling out all the stops for the occasion. She knew it, too.

   “Hi guys,” she chirped, as if tonight were no different than any other Fab Four Monday night get-together. She kissed Tony and Ginny hello but stopped short when she found herself face to face with me. There was a tense second where I thought she might have actually come in for a kiss—pure habit, mind you—but I halted her advance when I saluted her with my bottle instead. “You’re looking good tonight, Bren.”

   She flipped her perfectly-coiffed Farrah curls over her shoulder and returned formally, “You too, Eddie. I always said you looked great in that suit.”

   There was a quick spark in her eyes which made me want to haul her into my arms and drag my lips against hers. Take her into that back bedroom and strip that fucking dress off her perfect body, run my mouth along every inch of her, not stopping until she was screaming my na—

   “Can I get you a drink?” Tony asked, breaking my train of thought. Good thing. I was three seconds away from getting a hard-on in his kitchen.

   Bren tore her amused gaze from my face and answered, “I’d love a glass of wine if you’ve got a bottle opened. Otherwise, I’ll have a beer.”

   Ginny grabbed a wineglass from the cabinet next to the sink. “Of course we’ve got a bottle opened! What do you think
I’ve
been drinking all night?” When she went to pour some out, all of two drops of Bordeaux found their way into Bren’s glass. “Oops. Anthony, I think you need to uncork another one. This one must’ve sprung a leak.”

   For the second time that night, an easy laugh was shared between us.

   Just like old times.

 

 

 

 

 

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