Over the Hills and Far Away (NOLA's Own #1) (58 page)

Lightning flashed, tearing through the sky, and it was followed closely by furious thunder. The bathwater had grown cool.

“I’m fuckin’ starvin’,” he announced as we dried off.

“Me, too. What should we make?”

“Whatever you want,” he replied. “I can order delivery if you don’t feel like makin’ somethin’.”

“No, I prefer cooking,” I told him. “There’s a lot of food in this house. We should also check on Jason and make sure Sheri hasn’t accidentally poisoned him.”

Checking his phone, he found four missed calls from her.

“Hey, Sheri. You called?” he said into the phone. He was standing next to the bed in a pair of well-worn faded beige Dickies shorts—unbuttoned, no underwear, and displaying all sorts of pubic goodness. He looked at me and rolled his eyes at something she said. “Yeah, she’s talkin’ ’bout makin’ some food now. Give us, like, ten minutes and come over, okay?”

Hanging up, his eyes met mine. “Jason had the leftover chili and mashed potatoes from last night for breakfast, and she tried to make some of that juice you made yesterday, but she thinks she might’ve used too much ginger. I guess he had the shits after he drank it.”

“Well, it’s not like that’s a bad thing,” I told him. “Vicodin can stop up the intestines a bit.”

“You wanna make him some food?” he asked lightly, giving me the option of saying no if I really didn’t want to.

Admittedly, I was still a bit miffed at Phil but not enough to make Jason suffer through Sheri’s culinary mishaps. Plus, the memory of Phil lifting his friend into his arms came to mind and warmed my heart, making the irritation from earlier reluctantly melt a little. It was hard to stay mad at him after that.

“I don’t mind.”

The first thing I did was make Jason a strawberry-banana smoothie, which Sheri delivered like a scantily clad nurse.

I fried up the pork chops we hadn’t eaten on Saturday because we had been too naked to be bothered with making food. Boiling up some fusilli, I made a lemon-cream sauce with garlic and sautéed spinach in the leftover fat from the chops. There was enough for all three of us to have a decent meal and enough pasta for Jason to have a huge lunch.

“Holy shit, that smells incredible,” said Phil as he brought back Jason’s smoothie glass. He had followed Sheri to check on him and visit.

“Good. I was aiming for that,” I replied.

Phil copped a squat at the bar. A few minutes later, Sheri slunk in, taking the seat next to him so that she could face me in the kitchen.

Dumping the sauced pasta into a huge bowl, I turned to deliver the food onto the bar top. As I was doing so, I noticed both Phil and Sheri looked very uncomfortable. Phil almost seemed to be refusing to acknowledge her while she stared at her hands, nervously wringing them.

I had thought everything was copacetic between them again.

She had gone to the barbeque with Phil’s blessing, but thinking back on it, there hadn’t been much interaction between them that I had seen. They had talked several times on the phone yesterday, but it was only for Sheri to find out if we’d needed to get anything else. Unless it involved Jason, the two of them had barely spoken.

“What’s with the two of you?” popped out of my mouth as I sat across from them.

Phil’s spine stiffened while Sheri turned the color of a sunburn.

“What do you mean?” asked Phil, sounding testy.

“Well, you two are acting all weird. When I saw you guys a couple of weeks ago, you seemed to be really good friends. You guys
are
friends, right?”

“Yes.
Just
friends,” ejected Sheri, a guilty look creeping into her eyes.

“Where is this going?” Phil asked, looking alarmed.

Rolling my eyes, I replied, “For the love of all that’s holy, Phil. I know the history between you two—”

His head whipped to the side, and he glared at her. “What the fu—”

“Flipper told me,” I stated. “So, cool it with her.”

Eyes bulging, he snarled, “
Flipper
fuckin’ told you?”

“Yeah. I’ve known from the get-go. I’m a little surprised
you
never mentioned it but whatever.”
It’s not whatever. It fucking sucks!

Phil turned a bit red himself now.

“Why is it weird between you two?” I insisted.

“It’s my fault,” said Sheri quietly, staring at the pork chops. “I fucked up when I acted like a bitch to you that morning. I…wasn’t ready to share him with anyone, I guess. More than the others, Phil was my best friend, and when I treated you like that, I disrespected him.” She turned to face him. “I was scared I’d lose what we
did
have when she walked back into your life, that what we had would be gone, that I would be nothing to you. I was jealous.”

“She didn’t change how I felt about you, Sher. It never would’ve affected our friendship,” he told her, his voice a bit harsh.

“I know that
now
,” she stated, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “And it’s too late,” she said softly. “It really sucks. It
hurts
, knowing I lost my best friend because I was stupid and selfish, and I’m so very, very sorry about that.”

I ripped off a paper towel from the roll and handed it to her, so she could dab at her eyes.

Phil sighed. “It’s not too late, sweetheart,” he told her softly, looking to me for confirmation.

I nodded, letting him know I was cool with that. He pulled her into his arms, stroking her curly blonde hair, while she broke down into snorting sobs.

Well, lunch is ruined
, I thought wryly.

“I-I’m so sorry!” she wailed.

“Shh…it’s okay, sweetheart,” he said, rocking her a little.

Fuck it. I’m still pretty hungry.

I loaded up my plate and dug in. I was about halfway through my meal before Sheri stopped ugly-crying, and Phil let her go.

Phil served himself a massive plate and three chops, throwing me furtive looks here and there. Sheri put a little bit of food on her plate, and when she caught me glaring at her, she dumped another larger scoop of pasta on it.

“This is fuckin’ awesome,” groaned Phil. “Damn, I’m a lucky man,” he said, his eyes burning into mine.

Sheri giggled. “Kenna, how do your panties not catch on fire when he looks at you like that?”

“Because it turns on the damn sprinkler system,” flew out of my mouth before I’d even thought the words through.

I went seriously red while Sheri laughed her head off.

Phil grinned and winked at me.

Sheri ended up polishing off an entire pork chop and all of her pasta. “That was delicious, Kenna. Thanks so much,” she said. Then, she scurried off with Jason’s serving of pasta.

Phil demolished everything left, inhaling four chops on his own.

We cleaned up together, but the silence between us was strained. At first, I thought it was because
he
was uncomfortable since I knew about what Sheri used to do for him, but—

It’s
me
.
I’m
uncomfortable and not because she used to give him head, but because he didn’t bother to fess up and tell me himself. He seemed genuinely pissed that someone had told me about it, that I knew about it at all. He’s told me himself that he’s done a lot of fucked-up shit, and I don’t expect him to lay it all out there—not all at once, in any case. But damn, he should’ve come clean after the night of the barbeque.

An odd pain constricted around my heart, and suddenly, I really felt the need to be alone. I needed the quiet solitude of my own head, and I couldn’t achieve that here where
his
energy dominated everything.

“Um…” I hummed, my brain wondering in which direction I should go. After the Cowardly Incident, being completely honest and open with him was really the only way to go with this.

“What?” he asked.

“Look…I just need some alone time right now. I’d like to go home and just let my brain settle for a bit. Plus, I have to throw in a load of laundry and do a little housework anyway. I’ll be back in a little while.”

His eyes bored into the back of my head. I could
feel
them, and I sensed a thread of panic wiggling its way into my heart. That was
him
. I could sense his worry.

“Kenna…” his sad voice said softly.

“It’s not…I’m a little overwhelmed right now, okay? I want to be honest with you, and I don’t want you to freak out. I just need a little space. Can you give me that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that. Some space to clear my head. I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

“Why are you feeling overwhelmed?”

“Because…I don’t know what it is I’m feeling. I know I’m upset. I’ve been upset since the bathtub—”

“I said I was sorry,” he told me, his voice hushed. He maybe sounded a little hurt, too.

“I know, and I know I forgive you, but…I just need to figure some shit out for myself right now.”

I turned and looked into his eyes, and the sadness in them punched me in the gut.

“All right,” he said softly.

Leaning and going up on my tiptoes, I pressed a tender kiss to his lips. “I’ll be back soon.”

Grabbing my bag, I headed out the back door and trudged through the wet grass. My chest ached, and my eyes prickled the whole way home as I fought the urge to cry.

Once I was in my house, I was a little better. Without him contributing to the energy levels, it gave me a little peace to be able to think with a clear head.

The bottoms of my jeans were soaked, and my flip-flops were slick beneath my feet. I dropped my footwear out on the back porch next to the door, and then I stripped out of my pants. Heading upstairs, I grabbed my laundry basket and threw on some shorts. Then, I traipsed out to the utility room located adjacent to the kitchen, and I started a load of clothes.

Back up in my room, I put on some soothing meditative music, pushing the Repeat All button on the CD player, and I copped a squat on the bed with a big bag of weed and rolling papers. I broke up the chunks of green over a piece of notebook paper before rolling it up into joints.

I enjoyed these sorts of tasks. They made me feel productive without using too much thought, allowing me to think about what was really upsetting me and what I needed to do to work through it.

Why does it bother me so much that he didn’t tell me about him and Sheri?

Because if he could keep something as insignificant as that from me, then only the gods know what else he is hiding from me.

Should I expect him just to tell me everything—all at once, up-front?

No. We’re learning about each other, getting to know one another. Some things should come in time when we’re more comfortable in the relationship.

But when Jason said that shit at Phil’s dad’s place, the next thing Phil should have done was confess that it was more than a one-time deal.

But why be upset about this? I wasn’t upset when Sheri fessed up. And it’s not like they’d ever do it again…right?

Because…I am jealous.

Well, I’ll be damned
, I thought, feeling as though I’d been slapped with that revelation.

All this time, I had been trying to convince myself that I was totally cool with the knowledge that my man was a bit of a slut. In actuality, I was jealous of every woman who had laid her hands on him. It was a sneaky, subtle sort of jealousy, too. It wasn’t the kind where I wanted to gouge out eyes and rip out clumps of hair.

It was just…bitterness.

And it was slowly poisoning me.

Slipping the joints into my case, I kept one particular fat one out and sparked it up. Lying back among the pillows, resting the ashtray on my stomach, I just let the music suck me down in it. I got about two-thirds through the spliff before stumping it out and placing the ashtray on the nightstand.

I’m not ready to go back yet,
I thought.

Once I did, I would have to talk to him about it, and I didn’t want him to feel worse about himself. He already felt as though he’d betrayed me—which, in my own rational thinking, I knew that wasn’t the case. There had been no commitment between us then, and our only promise had been a soul-shattering kiss.

Closing my eyes, the music took me lower, deeper, sucking me in and down, down, down. My body gradually relaxed, fluidly syncing with the rhythms of space and time. I could see why Mom had loved to hang out with the Collective Psyche. These guys were pretty chill…sucking me down, further and further…tossing me down the Rabbit Hole.

I love that I’m visiting when the sun is out like this. My eyes are closed, but I can feel the warmth of the light on my face. I don’t need to be able to see to know where I am. I can feel the soft grass beneath my rear, the sweetly scented breeze fanning my face. The last time I was here, it was night…dark. It was a little terrifying.

A little terrifying? My arms were rooted into the ground since the night Mom died!

Slowly, I open my eyes and allow them to adjust to the dazzling display. The flowers here are the same Technicolor I see when I look at Phil. They’re everywhere, huge blooms exploding open and releasing my favorite musky, spicy scent.

I wish I could get the backyard to look like this for real.