“What are you thinking?! You know, I left you alone for these last couple years for one reason. I wanted you to have a normal teenage experience and meet a guy with some kind of future who could give you everything you desire, everything you deserve. And you choose him?” His tone is admonishing. It pisses me off even more. Who is he to reprimand me? I’ve heard what he’s been up to lately.
“Look,” I try, “you don’t have to agree with my choices, but it really is none of your business. We’ve gone our separate ways, you and me. You’ve made choices as have I. I’m not too happy with the ones you’ve made either, but I don’t want to waste our time fighting about it. I haven’t seen you in forever.” That all sounded very reasonable to me.
He doesn’t agree, “That’s just bullshit,” he says in a calm, clear voice. I don’t remember him ever cursing in my presence before, especially not in anger. It catches me off guard. I open my mouth with a comeback, but he continues unhindered, “You need to call it off with that fucking child molester now!” He is pointing at the ground and looking up to the heavens for divine inspiration, I guess.
His words hit their mark. I feel as though he’s just punched me in the stomach; his summation of my relationship has taken my breath away. I open my mouth to defend him or myself or our relationship, but I realize that he’s dangerously close to the source of my own unease about my relationship. “You know,” I try again through gritted teeth, “he cares about me like no one else ever has. He doesn’t drop out on me. He doesn’t run around with other girls, getting drunk, getting high, fighting, getting arrested. He holds down a job and cares about me. Is that so bad?”
“Yeah, it’s disgusting. He’s twenty-fucking-six years old, Lorraina!” I back up with each of his hatred-spiked words, fighting the urge to cower. He keeps advancing, but his voice gets soft. “You’re a baby compared to him. A very sheltered one, I might add.”
“Oh, really. You think my growing up with my dad was sheltering, huh? You don’t know the half of it!” I turn to walk away, but he grips my shoulder and spins me back around.
“I mean sheltered when it comes to human nature, Lorraina. You are far too good a person to believe that he means you any harm, but I’m here to tell you that any MAN who would date a young GIRL has anything but good intentions.”
“He loves me. He wants to marry me one day,” I protest, and it sounds weak even to my own ears. He hones in this in an instant.
“What does your mom say?”
Oh! He’s got me there. I see in his eyes that he knows it, too. “She doesn’t know,” I whisper. More forcefully, I add, “And don’t be the one to tell her, OK?”
“I can’t stand by and watch him use and discard you,” he says resignedly while shoving his hands into his hair
I fold my arms across my chest and cock my hip.
“Well, you’re in luck!” I snap. “You don’t have to. We aren’t even a part of each other’s lives anymore. I don’t know anything about the man you’re turning out to be other than you are reminding me a lot of my dad, and you don’t know anything about me. We just need to wish each other well and forget about each other.”
My comment hits home. He knows that I value my dad about as much as I value pond scum. I regret it immediately. He nods his head and looks me up and down for a minute as though searching for something or committing me to memory. He jerks his head once in a final nod. “Alright, I’ll see ya around then.”
My voice turns apologetic as I watch him back away from me. I never wanted to hurt him. I try to move towards him. “Michael, I—”
He throws his hands up, warding me off. “No, it’s all good. Take care, Lorraina. See ya around.”
I watch him hop into his friend’s waiting car; and they speed off, leaving me standing in front of my work. I wipe angry tears from my face. Fine, if that’s the way he wants to play it. Then, fine.
Yeah, he tries to warn you and tell you that he left you alone for all the right reasons and you blow him off and talk to him like he’s garbage. You compared him to the absolute worst possible specimen of humankind that you’ve had the displeasure of knowing. You chose a complete loser over one of your oldest and dearest friends. Smart. Real smart.
I close my eyes and shake my head, trying to dislodge all these thoughts. I’d paid dearly for that choice, too. Would Michael forgive me for those choices that I made so long ago? How could he if I still hadn’t forgiven myself?
Chapter Twelve
Don’t Look, Just Leap
I gather my belongings and move over to the stools at the counter so that I can be closer to Michael. He’s playing an infectious melody that I find myself humming. He raises his brow at me and smiles into the microphone, closing his eyes and reveling in his song. How did I ever resist him? Was he always this confident and self-assured? I think there were bits of him that were but not quite like this.
I take out my journal and jot down the names of the songs he’s played during his second set, making myself a soundtrack for our first night together. It reminds me of the few gifts he gave me back when we were friends. He’s only ever given me three presents. Two of which were mixed tapes that he’d made while I was in eighth grade. They’d burned along with the rest of my things, however. The other was a tiny little pewter cross hanging on a strip of leather that he used to wear. I knew where that was even though I hadn’t looked at it in forever. Maybe I could make some kind of gift for him from this soundtrack.
He opens his eyes and sees me sitting at the bar. He looks relieved. I wonder if he thought I was leaving. I’m not going anywhere. Realization dawns on me, I don’t ever want this night to end. I don’t want for another day that he’s not a part of. I ignore a nagging little thought that chants something about me being the obsessed one.
“Can I get you anything else?” The server asks, pulling me from my musings.
“Oh, no,” I say, “I’m good.”
“Well, just let me know.”
I try to pull him into a conversation. “So are you and Michael friends, then?”
“Yeah, we hang out.” He offers me a huge grin and his hand. “I’m Jason.”
I shake it and grin. “I’m Lorraina.”
“How do you know Mike?” He asks.
“We went to school together. We were good friends before I went away to college.” I have to bite my lip quickly to keep from shouting that he is the love of my life, but I was too stupid to do anything about that before and am here to rectify that tonight!
“Oh, yeah. Well, he must really like you. I’ve never seen him act so…not tortured. Sorry, that’s the best way I can describe it,” he finishes with a shrug and continues wiping the counter down.
I feel so “not tortured” myself. “I really like him,” I admit with a sigh.
“Good, I get good vibes from you. And Mike is good people. He deserves someone good.” He gives me a smile.
I smile back at him. “He really is a good person,” I agree.
I turn my attention back to Michael and enjoy the rest of his playing. He wraps up his second set, thanks everyone for coming out, and starts to pack up his guitar. I’m nervous. I wonder what we will do. Does he already have plans? I hope not. I don’t want to share him.
He comes over and leans on the bar. He picks up a coaster and spins it quickly like a top. “They’re closing. Do you have any plans tonight?”
Oh, yes. I certainly do.
“Um…No, what about you?”
“I do, unfortunately.” He’s looking down so he doesn’t notice my crestfallen expression. I quickly rearrange my face, hoping for a neutral look. “I have another gig in about thirty minutes. My band is playing at Grey tonight; it’s the new club at Starlight Casino. I’ll probably be there until around one or two.” He looks up and his face holds a look of disappointment.
This makes me smile a little. He doesn’t want to leave me either. I’ve never been to a casino, though. “I could wait for you, but that’s really late for me to be out,” I say hesitantly. Obviously, I’m old enough; but I just feel intimidated for some reason.
“I know. It’s not a bad scene
, though, if you’d like to go with me.”
“I don’t know,” I hedge. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
“I’m off tomorrow until my gig here at seven,” he replies quickly.
I don’t want to wait until tomorrow to see him; I suppress the urge to stamp my foot like a petulant child. “Well, could we do something tomorrow then?”
Please say yes, please say yes.
“I would love that. I’ll give you my number so you can call me when you wake up.”
“OK.” He grabs a napkin and writes his number down for me. I tuck it inside my journal.
“I’ll walk you out,” he tells me. He settles his business with Jason while I pack up and ready myself. Jason waves goodbye to us.
This sucks, I think.
He walks me to my car, mentioning a few different things we could do tomorrow. I’m not really hearing him because I am nervous about how to say goodbye to him. I came here hoping for…for what? I don’t know. I just know it wasn’t a goodbye, even a temporary one.
I must’ve responded in a positive way because he seems not to notice my distractedness. He grabs my hand again as we reach my car. I latch on to his hold. “Lorraina, I can’t tell you how good it was to see you again.”
I smile up at him, “I know. I feel the same.”
That was eloquent, I chide myself.
I’m just reeling.
“I’ll be waiting for your call in the morning.”
“Is eight too early?” I ask.
“Nope, sounds perfect.”
“K. Until then.” We hold hands for another moment. He picks up my hand again and brushes it with a soft kiss. He turns to go and I want to say something clever and memorable, but I can’t muster anything. When he looks back at me, I manage a little wave.
With a sigh, I get in my car and fire up the engine. I watch him as he jumps into his Jeep, gives me a final wave, and heads out. I watch his Jeep pull out, thinking even his mode of transportation is sexy. I don’t know too much about cars, but I know it’s an older model Jeep with big tires, dark navy, and chromed out. It fits him even though it’s not what I would expect for him to drive, but Michael is nothing if not unexpected.
I lay my head on my steering wheel. My eyes puddle up. They are tears of joy. He seems very open to me. I hope I’m reading him right, though; there wasn’t much time for talking.
I look at the clock on my dash. It’s only nine. That’s too early to go home. I guess I could go to Ginny’s and hang out. Then, at least I wouldn’t be telling a complete lie to my mom. I put my car in gear and make it out on the highway.
I replay the entire night again. I smile. I think it was a success despite having ended earlier than I’d hoped. I can’t believe how unsure of myself I am around him. The stakes are just so high, though; and I don’t want to loose him again. I don’t think I could bear it.
I put my turn signal on and merge with the traffic flow. I’m glad I know these roads so well as I am completely consumed with thoughts of him. I guess I need to decide where it is I am actually going: home or Ginny’s?
He has four jobs and school? He seems consumed much like me. Why is working so hard? Is the temptation of his former life that strong that he needs to work like a dog? Is he trying to bury himself in work like I’ve buried myself in school? What or who is he running from?
I park my car and look up at the flashing lights before me. I laugh at myself. How did I know I would end up here? I never had any intention of going home or going to Ginny’s, did I? I bite my lip. Should I go in? I’ve never been in a casino before.
Ugh!
If I don’t go in, I’m afraid I will lose whatever momentum we’ve established this night. I think, too, that he would see this as a sign of my pursuit. Will he be flattered or repelled? Only one way to find out.
Chapter Thirteen
Rolling the Dice
The noise and the smoke are the first things I notice about the casino. There are flashing lights everywhere. Some people look ecstatic. Others look downtrodden. It’s a stark dichotomy. I make my way to the marquee, looking for directions to the club that Michael’s playing in. I think I can find my way there after studying the map for a few minutes. I walk towards the escalator, flashing my ID as I pass the security guard. I hope I look acceptable to enter the club. I went to a couple of clubs while I was in high school with
him
, but that was so long ago.
I find the club. It sounds like there are lots of people and the music is very loud. Quite different from Mona’s.
Michael’s band is playing a Southern Rock classic. It’s one of my favorites. Maybe, I think, all the songs he’s playing are becoming my favorites because I love to hear him play so much. I giggle at myself.
I stand back for a few moments and take in the crowd. Not surprisingly, they are really enjoying the band. The dance floor is pretty packed, but I’m able to gain an unobstructed view of the stage where I can watch Michael for a few unbeknownst minutes. His stage presence is completely different from his unplugged performance at Mona’s. His dark hair is damp with sweat, which makes me realize he’s really been working the crowd. As if to provide me with evidence of my guess, I watch him stride to the edge of the stage and lean into the crowd punctuating each beat with a shake of his head. He pull
s back up, stretching his powerful neck and holding a long note. I notice the female fans’ collective disappointment at having lost the moment to pull him down further to them.