Read Picking Up the Pieces Online

Authors: Elizabeth Hayley

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Sports, #Contemporary Fiction

Picking Up the Pieces (8 page)

             
Amanda gave me a confused glance as she eyed up her next shot. “But you’re my ride home.”

             
For a moment, I felt bad. That is, until Shane chimed in. “I’ll drive you. It’s no big deal.”

             
Thank you, Coach Shane.
“Perfect.” And it was. I could leave early without feeling bad that I’d ditched a friend, and Amanda could get some more alone time with Shane.

             
On my way. Be there soon
, I texted Max. And as I settled into the driver’s seat and threw my car into drive, I laughed. One of us needed to be saved at a bar again. And it felt good to be the one doing the saving this time.

Chapter 9:
Max

 

I was fidgeting helplessly, my eyes darting pensively toward the door every few seconds.
Where the hell is she?
She had said she was on her way over an hour ago. Silently cursing my decision to come down to the city early, I picked up my whiskey on the rocks and damn near drained the glass. She must've hit traffic. And as the nasally voice across from me continued to garble out sounds that my brain refused to process as words, I cursed every motorist between here and wherever the hell Lily was coming from.

             
My leg started jerking violently, making the chair I was sitting on creak loudly. I didn't care. The creaking was preferable to the high pitch nightmare that was
still
prattling on about God-knows-what. I rubbed my hand over my face wondering if this was my purgatory. Was this how I was meant to atone for being such a prick all of these years?

             
I lifted my glass to my mouth as my eyes glanced toward the door again. "Oh, thank you, Jesus."

             
"Huh?" the voice puzzled.

             
"Oh, uh, nothing," I said sheepishly. Then, bellowing across the bar and waving my hands like a lunatic, I yelled, "Lily! Hey, Lily, over here!"

             
Lily returned my wave with a smile and walked toward me. Why was she walking so slowly?
Come on, doll.

             
"Hey. Sorry it took me so long to get here. Traffic was—"

             
I interrupted her by throwing my arm around her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her temple. "No big deal, hon. I’m just
so
glad you're finally here." I threw my gaze
at the hyena across from me, hoping that Lily would understand the role I needed her to play. But all I saw on her face was shock.
Shit, I shouldn't have kissed her. I caused her to short-circuit.
"Lily, this is . . ." I hesitated. My mind drew a complete blank.
What the fuck is her name?

             
"Stacey," the hyena answered for me. "Men. Their attention is only ever on one thing."

             
Wait, was she intimating that I didn't remember her name because I was too absorbed in thinking about fucking her?
Gross.
"Sorry. Yes, this is Stacey and she's been talking to me for the past
two hours
about, well, everything you could ever possibly think of." I spoke with a smile, but it was tight and I hoped that Lily would see right through it. I studied her intensely, and it clicked.
She narrowed her eyes at me, and I felt an instant of fear. She wouldn't screw me over on purpose, would she?

             
Finally, Lily stretched out her hand. "Hi Stacey, so nice to meet you. And thank you for keeping Max here company for me." As she spoke, Lily poked her fingers into my ribs unnecessarily hard, which caused me to buck forward and wince.

             
Message received.

             
"Oh, so you two are . . . ?" Stacey inquired, surprise and disappointment showing on her face.

             
Worrying that Lily was beginning to feel bad for this harbinger of boredom,
I quickly interjected. "Yes, this is my girlfriend Lily. Remember, I told you I was waiting for her."

             
I shot a quick look to Lily and widened my eyes in an attempt to convey the level of crazy we were dealing with here. This bitch was a stage five clinger
if I ever met one. I had told her on at least five occasions that I was meeting my girlfriend, and she had pretended not to hear me every time. I had never quite seen anything like it: such complete dismissal of reality. It would have been impressive had it not terrifyingly reminded me of the plot of
Misery
.

             
Anger sparked in Lily’s features as she snapped at me. "No, I absolutely do not remember you mentioning anything like that."

             
Here we go.

             
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Stacey,” Lily apologized. "Max here is so forgetful sometimes. It's the syphilis."

             
Yeah
,
it's the . . . did she just say syphilis?

             
Stacey looked horrified as Lily continued, leaning in closer to the hyena as though she were imparting highly classified information. "Yeah, I'm actually not his girlfriend. I'm his nurse. His mind is deteriorating so rapidly, I don't even bother to correct him anymore."

             
"Oh, that's terrible," Stacey drawled as she put a hand to her chest.

             
Dramatist.

             
I tightened my grip on Lily's shoulder as a warning. One more comment like that and I would rip off her arm and beat her to death with it.

             
"I know. And the herpes is only making it worse."

             
"Okay, well I think that's enough of that. I have a table waiting for us, Nurse Lily. Shall we?" I glared at her as I spoke, wishing horrible things on her: male pattern baldness, impetigo, leprosy.

             
"Yes, let's," she replied with equal agitation. Then
she turned toward Stacey and hugged her. "Thank you so much again. The last time he was left alone in the city, we found him in an abandoned building with no pants. Or underwear." She hissed out the last sentence, leaving the implication of her words hanging heavily in the air.

             
Stacey's mouth fell open as we marched off. I was as appalled as Stacey, though obviously for different reasons. Lily, however, wore a smug smile on her face.

“Jesus Christ, Lil.
Was all that really necessary? What if she blabs that shit to the papers?” We turned around a corner to where the band was setting up. As soon as we were out of Stacey’s line of sight, Lily rounded on me swiftly and punched me in the gut. Hard
.
I let out a sputtering cough, wheezing from the force of the blow. “Holy fuck!” I yelled when air returned to my lungs. “What the hell was that for?”

Lily stepped directly into my personal space, a place I was none too keen on having her since she’d assaulted me seconds before. But she was staring at me like she was debating what to do with my body, so I quickly decided that the best
defense was a good offense. “Did I tell you that your shirt really brings out the green in your eyes? Because it does. Really.” She was still staring me down, clearly trying to get herself under control before she spoke to me.
Shit
.
Compliments almost always worked.

“You motherfucker.”

So much for control.

“Tell me you did not drag me away from my friends so that I could save your ass from a woman.”
She stopped and awaited my reply. When she didn’t receive one, she continued. “You’re not saying anything. Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I also take back the CrossFit comment.
It’s clearly doing wonders. You look beautiful. I didn’t think you could get any more gorgeous, but let me tell you—”

“Max, stop complimenting me for Christ’s sake.
It’s cheap and meaningless when you do it to try and fix a situation
you
fucked up.”

“But you hit me.
Can't we be even?”

“Even?
Did you smoke crack earlier today? You told me you had an emergency—”

“I think I said it was
sort of
an emergency.” She reeled back to hit me again, so I threw my hands out to block her. She had really grown violent over the past few months. “Okay, okay, you’re right. It was a dick move. But, in my defense, did you
see
that woman?” I shuddered at the memory.

“Yeah, I saw her.
What was wrong with her?”

“What was wrong with her?
She looked like a Furby.”

Lily’s mouth drew up into a smile, but she quickly repressed it.
“Oh, stop. She did not.”

“Now who’s smoking crack?
And you
hugged
her. I’m surprised you didn’t get a rash from her five o’clock shadow.”

Then
Lily turned serious. “Max, listen to me. Don’t ever do that again. I was panicking the whole way here. And you took advantage of the fact that I’d hurry down here to help you. I want to be here for you. I want to be your friend. Because despite my better judgment, I missed you over these last months. But if you pull some dumb shit like this again, I will be burying you in an unmarked grave in a pet cemetery. Got it?”

“Yes, Miss Hamilton,” I replied in
a monotone. But when she started off toward the exit, I quickly followed her, grabbing her arm. “Wait, wait, I’m sorry. I was just kidding.” Pulling her back in front of me, I released her arm and blew out a breath. “I promise. I won’t do anything like that again. I apologize for making you worry.”

She thought for a moment, probably trying to figure out whether or not she believed me.
In the end, she must have decided that she did. “Okay, apology accepted.”

“Thank God,” I sighed.
“Now, you ready to hear some music?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied with a wry smile.

We walked closer to the stage. The band was still setting up, so the crowd hadn’t followed us into this section of the bar yet. Standing there in a comfortable silence, I took in the sight of her. I hadn’t been lying. That green shirt highlighted the subtle sparkle in her eyes I’d noticed the first time they met mine in that airport. And those tight white pants fit
her lean legs perfectly. I suddenly wondered if Lily knew how beautiful she was, if she’d appreciate hearing it. But I shook off the thought, figuring that she’d love to hear it. Just not from me.

“So, she talked your ear off for two hours, huh?”
she said slyly as she cocked her head in my direction.

“Two horrendous hours.
I was nice at first. That was my undoing. Once I realized that she was never going to leave me alone, I had to call in the cavalry.”

“Why didn’t you just excuse yourself and then find a new seat?”

“I did. Twice! She followed me both times. I made a valiant attempt at listening to her for about three minutes. But then she started talking about her porcelain doll collection and I panicked. That’s when I moved the first time. I lasted almost four minutes the second time. And then came the story about having her grandmother’s ashes sitting on her nightstand beside her bed. That’s when I knew it was time for escape number two. But she sniffed me out like a bloodhound and started jabbering again. That time I didn’t even try and listen. I just tried to keep calm and wait for you to get here and save me.”

Lily was no longer trying to hide her amusement.
She smiled widely as she visualized the scene in her head. “It couldn’t have been
that
bad.”

“Listen, I’m not sure if you saw the white string of spit on the side of her mouth, but I saw it.
I also had to keep dodging it as it flew out of her mouth randomly like a slingshot. So don’t tell me it wasn’t that bad. I lived it and I’m telling you that my life was in mortal danger back there.”

“Whatever you say,” she said smiling, flipping her chestnut hair over her shoulder as she turned her attention back to the band.

I gazed at her a moment, appreciating the simple beauty that encapsulated Lily Hamilton.
I wasn't sure how many more times she'd forgive me after I screwed up, but I was glad that she hadn't given up on me yet. And as the smile spread across my face, I realized that her inner beauty may be even more alluring than the
outer beauty.

As the rest of the night passed, I found myself wishing that I could freeze time. Being friends with Lily was easy. Natural.
And for the first time in six months, I started to feel a little hope that my life wouldn't be shitty forever.

 

Chapter 10: Adam

 

As October passed, my schedule began to calm down a bit. I only had to check in periodically at the new home site because the guys seemed like they were finally able to function without my constant supervision. And Eva managed to get into the groove of the school year. She decided to play volleyball and seemed to have a handle on her grades. We’d gone to a few Sixers games together, but I had to admit I was thankful when she went to a dance and a few sleepovers. It gave me some time to do my own thing.

When Halloween arrived, I was glad Eva had decided against the Miley Cyrus costume she’d originally planned. When her friend Christina suggested that she and a few of her friends dress as the
Pretty Little Liars
, I couldn’t have been happier. I knew it would be a significant improvement on her first choice. Well, maybe
significant
isn’t the correct term.
Slight
might be more accurate. It certainly beat the image that had haunted my nightmares for the past few weeks: one that involved my scantily clad thirteen-year-old daughter prancing around the neighborhood with a shaved head and a sledgehammer.

I’d let h
er stay out later than usual because the girls had planned to go back to Christina’s with their candy and watch a movie. I knew she was growing up, and this would be one of her last years trick-or-treating, so I wanted her to enjoy the time with her friends. But like any concerned father, I waited by the door until Christina’s mom dropped Eva off a little before 11:30. As she skipped through the door wide awake, I’d pretended to be asleep on the couch so she wouldn’t know I’d been waiting up for her.

A while later, I heard her settle in for the night, and as I crept to the top of the stairs, I couldn’t resist peeking in her room to see her sleeping peacefully.
Now I could do the same.

***

The next morning, as usual, I packed Eva’s lunch and said goodbye as she left for the bus. I planned to head into the office for a bit to do some drawings, and wanted to go to Eva’s volleyball game after school. With my laptop bag and a bottle of water in hand, I headed out the door.

For weeks, I hadn’t managed to get to the coffee shop before work, but since I had a light day ahead of me, I decided a relaxing morning was in order as well.
I would enjoy a cup of coffee and read the paper quietly—something I hadn’t done in a while. As I entered, I realized just how much I’d missed the smell of freshly ground coffee beans. Since I wasn’t in a rush, I figured I’d wait until the line died down a bit before I ordered. So I swiped a newspaper off the rack by the door and settled myself into a high-top table by the window.

As customers made their way through the door, the crisp autumn air
mingled with the warmth of the coffeehouse. I paid little attention to what was happening around me, happily engrossing myself in the paper for a few minutes until I glanced up to see that the line had gotten considerably shorter.

I wasn’t much of a coffee snob,
but for some reason I had the urge to try something new. My eyes stayed fixed on the menu above the baristas’ heads—a menu I wasn’t at all familiar with because I never deviated from my usual order. As the line dwindled, I inched my way closer to the counter and studied the choices before me: lattes, macchiatos, cappuccinos, espressos. I had no idea what to get. But when my turn came and the barista stared at me for a moment, I knew exactly what I wanted: the usual.

“Large hot coffee, two sugars, right?”
the barista asked, sliding the tall cup my way.

I was immediately confused.
I didn’t even recognize the small blonde girl working today. There was no way she would have recognized
me
, let alone know what I wanted to drink. “Right, how did you . . .?” my voice trailed off.

“I didn’t,” she replied with a shrug.
“But
she
did.”

I spun around in the direction of the doors and stretched my head around the line behind me to look out the glass.
I barely heard her when the girl at the counter told me my coffee had been paid for too. I’d been too captivated by who I’d seen outside.

Just as she’d gotten into her car, my eyes locked with Lily’s for a split second.
A second that seemed both too long and not long enough. And as I watched her drive away, I was surprised by my first thought:
I didn’t even know she knew how I took my coffee.

 
I put the cup to my lips and let the smooth familiar taste slide down my throat, thinking that despite my fleeting craving for change, I ultimately always came back to what I already loved.

 

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